#the 'just shut it already' face and mouth expression

[amkyor]

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY ᡣ𐭩

Liquid Courage:

The night started innocently enough. Bakugo hadn’t planned on going out, but with enough badgering from Kirishima, Denki, and Sero—and even a rare push from Midoriya—he begrudgingly agreed.

It was supposed to be a chill night, a few drinks, and some catching up among friends.

But, somewhere along the line, a couple of drinks turned into several, and now Bakugo was utterly and completely drunk.

Kirishima, Denki, and Sero were having the time of their lives, laughing and joking around.

Deku, on the other hand, was trying to keep everyone in check, a task that was growing more impossible by the second. Bakugo, of course, was the wild card.

His usual confident, no-nonsense demeanor was completely replaced by someone much… looser.

“Hey, Kacchan, maybe you should slow down,” Deku suggested nervously as Bakugo threw back another shot.

“Shut it, Deku!” Bakugo slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at him. “I’m fine! I can handle my damn liquor.”

Denki and Sero snickered in the background while Kirishima patted Bakugo on the back.

“You’re a beast, bro!” Kirishima cheered, though even he looked a little concerned about the state of his friend.

Deku sighed, and just about as he was going to let it go, Bakugo stumbled, nearly knocking over the table of drinks.

Deku shot up, his heroic instincts kicking in. “That’s it. I’m calling her.”

---

You were at home, relaxing in your sweats and watching a movie when your phone rang. Seeing Deku’s name pop up, you answered with a confused, “Hello?”

“Uh, hi, sorry to bother you,” Deku began, his voice sounding strained. “It’s about Kacchan… He might have had a bit too much to drink.”

You blinked. “He’s drunk?”

“Yeah,” Deku admitted. “We’re at the club, and he’s, um… not himself. Can you come pick him up?”

You sighed, already grabbing your keys. “I’ll be there in ten.”

---

When you arrived at the club, you weren’t sure what to expect. But seeing Bakugo slumped over at a table, laughing loudly at something Denki said, was definitely not it.

His cheeks were flushed, his hair messier than usual, and he looked… happy. Almost giddy.

“Hey, babe!” he shouted when he saw you, throwing his arms in the air. “Look who’s here to rescue me!”

You blinked, stunned. “Katsuki?”

“That’s me!” he said, standing up with a wobble. “The love of your life, here in all his glory.”

Denki and Sero were howling with laughter while Kirishima tried to help steady Bakugo. Deku looked at you with a helpless expression, mouthing, “Sorry.”

You sighed and walked over, grabbing Bakugo by the arm. “Alright, big guy, time to go home.”

He grinned at you, leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Anything you say, gorgeous.”

Your face warmed as you led him out of the club, ignoring the amused stares from his friends.

---

The car ride home was… an experience.

“Katsuki, sit still,” you said as he shifted in his seat for the third time.

“But you’re so pretty,” he said, staring at you with wide, admiring eyes. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart fluttered. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not too drunk to know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said earnestly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the road. “Just… sit back and try to sober up.”

“But I wanna kiss you,” he said, leaning closer.

“Katsuki!” you snapped, pushing him back into his seat. “Behave.”

He pouted but stayed put, mumbling something about how unfair it was that you looked so good.

---

When you finally got him inside, you managed to get him to the couch. “Stay here,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m getting you some water.”

He saluted you with a cheeky grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

You were in the kitchen, filling a glass with water when you felt arms wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned your head to see Bakugo standing behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Katsuki, you’re supposed to be on the couch,” you said, though your voice softened at the sight of him.

“I missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck. “You smell good.”

You sighed, setting the glass down and turning to face him. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “And you love me for it.”

---

After much coaxing, you finally got him to the bedroom.

He flopped onto the bed, watching you with hooded eyes as you changed into your pajamas.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice softer now. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Your cheeks burned, and you shook your head. “Go to sleep, Katsuki.”

He reached out, grabbed your hand, and pulled you onto the bed beside him. “Not without you.”

You sighed, settling in next to him. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “Love you,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

You smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. “Love you too, Katsuki.”

Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and he was asleep, his usual gruffness replaced by a peaceful expression.

And as you lay there, listening to his soft snores, you couldn’t help but think that even drunk, he was still your Katsuki.

FANFIC RECOMMENDATION ᡣ𐭩

Adult Bakugo x Female Reader Fanfic

[lechrts]

Die For You. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Friend!reader

Summary: When he’s the only one that’s allowed to pick on you. (And unfortunately someone else picks on you, and it backfires.)

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer/s: fluff… kinda… defensive!Lando 👅. A tad bit of body shaming i fear …

Vera’s Voice! hi Enya. For U. i hope i did this justice.

The bar was alive with laughter and music, and you were perched at the counter, sipping on your favorite fruity cocktail. As usual, Lando couldn’t resist making a comment the moment he saw you.

“Another one?” He said, sauntering up next to you with a smug grin. “What is that now? Your third? Fourth?“ He grinned with a small pause.

“Be careful. We can’t afford to have you tumbling like a drunk mess in the streets later.”

You glared at him, already irritated. “I can handle myself, and this is my second drink. Thank you very much.” A scoff and eye roll emitted from your body.

“Yeah, right,” He replied, his grin widening. “Say that again when you inevitably start slurring your words and crying about how much you hate tequila.”

“Ha. Funny.” You deadpanned.

“I’m serious,” He pressed, leaning on the counter with a quirked brow and stupid smile. “You’re a lightweight. One more of those, and you’re topless on a counter.”

You scoffed, taking another sip of your drink just to spite him. “And I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“Maybe so,” He fired back with a sheepish shrug. “But I’m just looking out for you,” Another wink.

Before you could respond, one of Lando’s mates—you couldn’t remember his name, they weren’t that close honestly—wandered over, clearly overhearing the exchange.

“Seriously,” He said, his eyes scanning the glass in your hand. “Another sugary monstrosity? You know that stuff makes you bloat, right?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You froze, the insult hanging in the air as your self-consciousness surged.

“And for the record,” He continued, smirking like he’d just delivered the joke of the century, “It’s not exactly flattering. Just saying.”

Lando’s head snapped toward him so fast it was almost comical. But there was nothing funny about the deadly look on his face.

“What’d you say?” Lando’s voice was low and ice-cold, a tone you’d never heard from him before as her quirked a brow with a repulsed look.

His friend blinked, caught off guard. “Just telling your friend here that she’s gonna get fat if she continues drinking all that—“

Lando cut him off with a light shove, almost like it was a warning for him to shut up

“Relax, mate. I was just jok—”

“Yeah? Well, it wasn’t funny,” He cut him off sharply, now stepping forward to put himself in front of you. “Who even says that? You think that’s funny?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” The guy stammered, clearly starting to regret opening his mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lando snapped. “You don’t talk to her like that. Ever. Got it?”

“Alright, chill, mate. I didn’t know she was off-limits or whatever.”

“Off-limits?” Lando repeated, his voice rising. “She’s not off-limits, she’s just better than your pathetic attempts at humor. So why don’t you piss off.”

The guy muttered something under his breath before walking away, leaving the two of you standing in tense silence.

“Lando…” You started, but he turned to face you before you could say more.

His expression softened as he ran a hand through his hair. “I hope you don’t believe a word he said.“

You swallowed hard, still feeling the sting of the comment but touched by Lando’s protectiveness. “Thanks for…that,” You said quietly.

“I mean it,” Lando said, stepping closer. “I know I’m a prick but it’s all in good fun.” A pause. “I also never make comments about your appearance.. considering you’re gorgeous…” He trailed off, his sly way of sneaking in a compliment making you slightly blush.

You huffed out a small laugh, your lips twitching into a faint smile. “I don’t know what’s more shocking: that you just defended me or that you actually said something nice for once.”

“Don’t get used to it,” He said, his usual smirk creeping back.

“Of course,” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “Who else will tell me I’m stupid every second they can?”

“Only me,” He added, his tone more serious. “No one else gets to. Not like that.”

You looked up at him, his sincerity catching you off guard. “Deal.”

And just like that, the teasing and bickering was back—but this time, you couldn’t help but feel a little safer, knowing Lando had your back.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[sturnlsstuff]

NOT SO TOUGH | ghostface!matt

ghostface!matt comes to you for help after geting hurt on one of his "nights out".

— warnings; blood, mentions of murder & violence, cursing

requested by this person !! divider credits. @anitalenia

it was a quiet evening in which you finally found some time to take care of yourself, do skincare, watch your favorite shows and read a book. you were home alone, a week after finishing your finals at college, and you needed some relaxation and peace. you didn't think anything could destroy your alone time tonight.

until someone started banging on your door around midnight.

confused by someone visiting at such an hour, you get out of bed and lazily trudge to the door, first obviously checking who it was. a frown appears between your eyebrows and your heart skips a beat. you unlock the door, "matt? what are you—"

he practically pushes himself forward, almost losing his balance and leaning on your body for support. "fuck, sorry— are you... are you alone?"

"yeah," you kick the door shut with your foot, arm wrapping around his waist causing hiss to escape from his mouth. matt takes off his blood stained ghostface mask, tossing it to the side so you were able to see his face. he didn't look too good, blood dripping from his nose, hair messed up, dark circles under his eyes. your heart drops at the sight. "what— what happened?"

"fuckin' disaster, that's what happened." he retorts dryly, grimacing in pain as you start leading him to the bathroom. "i know is late, i just didn't really know where to go. i couldn't... couldn't show up like this at my place, y'know."

after helping him sit down on the closed toilet, you stand between his legs, grabbing his jaw and examining his face against the light to see better. he gently smacks your hand away, "is nothing, y'need to help me with this." he points at his black robe, only now it is noticeable that it was damaged, torn in some places and also bloody, your mind swirling with questions, assumptions and worries.

you help him untangle himself from the robe, several curses and painful groans filling the bathroom. underneath he had a black t-shirt through which you could also see the blood stain. you lock eyes with him, "matt. what the fuck happened?"

he rolls his eyes, trying to take off the shirt with which you're also quick to help. "i was out, doing my... stuff. had to take care of things, but it went slightly in a wrong direction—"

"slightly?!"

your eyes widen, breath catches in your throat as his bare chest is revealed to your gaze with numerous bruises forming on it and — what's worse, a cut on his rib from which blood was oozing out.

"yeahhhh... business problems," his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm, before he winces when your fingers brush against his bruises. his skin feels exposed under your eyes, and he can see that concerned expression of yours that you were giving him more and more often recently. he sighs, "it looks worse than it feels, i promise. don't worry 'bout it."

"i'm not..." you mutter quietly.

he smirks, blood from his nose begins to flow down his mouth and chin. "sure you don't, sweetheart."

"matt, you should see a doctor. i'm serious, this is...."

"be realistic," he scoffs. "i can't go to the hospital. it'd arouse suspicions. you gotta be my doctor for tonight." he cracks a little smile, his amusement making you annoyed.

"you're helpless."

"wooow, low blow, low blow—"

you quickly find the first aid kit and take a towel, soaking it slightly with water. standing between his legs again, you tilt his head back, starting to wipe the blood from his face. "so how did it happen? and i don't wanna hear any of this 'business problems' bullshit."

he sighs, eyes locked on your face. "my victim was such a fighter, apparently. didn't really want to die." his words makes a shiver goes down your spine, even if you were already used to his lifestyle. "there were two of 'em, wanting to make sure to leave me with a few gifts." once he sees the death stare you give him, he decides to push the jokes aside. "it was just a little harder this time. one of 'em punched me in the face with something, which explains this," he points at his face that was now clean. "if not my mask, i'd probably get my nose fuckin' broken."

"and what about this?" you urge him to lean back slightly and look at the cut on his ribs that is still leaking blood. it wasn't deep luckily, but looked nasty.

"the other one tried to defend himself with a knife and scratched me a little bit—"

"scratched you? jesus christ, matt..." you start cleaning the wound without warning, causing him to flinch and curse loudly. "oh, sorry— sorry..."

"be maybe a bit gentler, huh?"

you kneel between his legs, looking up at him with clear annoyance, "what's the problem, tough guy? i thought it only scratched you."

"oh, shut up..." he rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly, but then he groaned again as you continued to clean up the cut.

"not so tough now, hm?" you tease, but then gets more serious as the blood is still oozing out. "matt, you need to be more careful. and why the fuck would you even attack two guys when you're on your own? are you crazy?"

"hey, don't question my skills just 'cos i got hurt. it never happens, there always has to be a first time." he watches as you use a clean cloth, trying to stanch the gash on his skin. then you wrap the bandage tightly around his waist. luckily the wound really wasn't that big and didn't need to be seen by a doctor like you thought at the beginning. "besides..." he hisses uncomfortably. "i know what m'doing is dangerous and it's not gonna stop me. so quit worrying, m'kay?" he grips your wrist when you stand up, about to pull away. he pulls you to sit on his thigh, his hands finding its ways to your hips. "i'm serious."

"it's just... i never know what to expect from you," your arm wraps around his shoulder. "what if next time is going to be something worse? like..."

"m'good at what i'm doing, sweetheart. and you know it," he presses a small kiss on your neck, which breaks your attitude, causing to smile. "and to be honest? you're pretty good at being my personal nurse, so maybe i should start getting hurt more often."

"matt, don't even fucking joke like that," you reply, getting a chuckle in response which quickly turns into a slight cough and grimace, his chest and ribs in pain. "see? karma."

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[planetpedri]

hi Bae 🫶 i NEED prompt 4 “shut up and kiss me” for paul aron .. cause yknow me. maybe some friends with tension, constantly pranking/teasing/messing with each other?!?!2?3?? i luh yuh.

Electric love 𖦹 Paul Aron.

summary. you and paul had always toed the line between friends and something more with your flirtatious teasing and the such. today though, you both stepped one toe over that line until your bodies eventually lunged onto the other side.

word count. 860+

disclaimers. fluff, teasing, friends to lovers !

bea speaks. finally a paul req god bless!! hello ellis baef, i hope u like ^_^

The late afternoon sun lit the park a golden hue as you and Paul sat on the edge of the fountain, tossing stones to see who would make the biggest splash. This was a ritual you two had done since childhood, and it progressed into your adulthood somehow.

As per usual, your banter filled the air, the easy rhythm of teasing that had become natural between you two over the years.

“Admit it,” Paul said, flicking a pebble into the fountain. “You’re only here because you missed me oh so much while I was away.”

You scoff, leaning back on your hands, the warmth the sun caused against the tan stone of the fountains edge warming your fingertips. “Missed you?” Your lips curl, “You’re delusional, Aron. If anything, I came here to enjoy the peace and quiet until you showed up.”

“Peace and quiet?” He repeated, his beautiful blue eyes narrowing with mock offense. “You’ve been following me around since we were kids. You’d totally be lost without me.”

“Following you around?” Your mouth parts with a short laugh, “I think you’ve got it backward. You’re the one who can’t go more than a few hours without sending me something stupid or calling me to boast about the smallest of achievements!”

You push yourself back up to straighten your back, rubbing your hands together to get the small particles of dust off. “It’s exhausting, honestly.”

The blonde grinned, leaning in slightly. “You love it when I do that, though.”

“Not nearly as much as you love listening to yourself talk.” You shoot back, dipping your hand in the fountain water and flicking some in his direction.

He dodged it with ease, his grin widening. “Careful, loser, you’re starting to sound jealous.” His eyebrows wriggle accusatorially.

“Jealous of what? Your overinflated ego?”

The boy chuckles, his voice low and warm. “You know, if you weren’t so damn stubborn, you’d probably admit you find me quite irresistible.”

Your eyes rolled, but you couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened as he shifted closer, the space between you shrinking just enough for you to become adequately aware of how close he actually is.

“Irresistible?” You lift one eyebrow, “Please. If you weren’t such an ass maybe—maybe, I’d consider kissing you.”

Paul’s eyebrows raise shortly, he didn’t know kissing was on the table. His surprise quickly fades and a smirk grows on his lips, something else passing across his face but it’s gone within an instant. “Maybe? That’s the best you’ve got?”

You shrug, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest. “I don’t hand out things like that to people who think they are God’s gift to humanity.”

“Fair enough.” He says, his voice softening as he leans just an inch closer. “But you’re not denying that you’ve thought about it, y’know?”

Opening your mouth to argue, the words get stuck in your throat when you realize just how close he was to your face. The teasing glint in his eyes had changed into same expression you’d seen pass over him earlier—something softer, sweeter. It send a shiver down your spine.

Paul’s head tilted to the sigh, his breath fanning across your already warm cheeks, his voice hoarse and quiet now. “So, if I wasn’t an ass—“

“Paul,” you interject, the words coming out barely above a whisper.

His blue eyes blink, startled for a second as the teasing look shifted into one similar to worry. Had he read this all wrong? Was this not what you wanted? Because it is certainly what he wants. So, so badly.

The air was thick enough to cut with a knife. “Yeah?” He murmurs back, just as quiet, but still steady. His gaze flickers down to your lips for a split second before returning to your eyes.

The same eyes he could get lost in if you’d just let him.

You hesitate only for a second before letting out a small, exasperated laugh. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

His lips were on yours before you could take another breath. It was warm and urgent, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long—if not longer—than you had. His hand slid up your bare arm, coming up to cup your cheek, tilting your face toward him, while his other hand found its home on your waist, pulling you just a little closer so that your chests were touching.

His lips molded against yours, like they were meant specifically for you. Like they were sculpted just for yours.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. The Estonian boy was grinning down at you, his forehead resting against yours. “Does this mean I have to stop being an ass now, or do I get to stay as perfect as I am.”

Your eyes rolled, but the way you were so clearly fighting a smile gave yourself away. “Let’s not push it, Aron.”

His head tilts back slightly as he laughs, the sound warm and familiar and your heart lurches at the sound. He leans back down to kiss you again and your lips swallow his leftover laughter.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts!

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @wdcbox @spidybaby @joaoflms @be11ingham @sakashq @piastri-fvx

[starsturni]

use me*- chris

analysis: when having a casual hook up with chris, you start to wonder about how deep your feelings actually go.

song: 'i wanna be yours' by 'artic monkeys'

wc: 2k

warnings: cursing, SMUT (if not obvious), slight dumbification, spanking, oral (f recieving), talk of hook ups, p in v, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), degradation, aftercare, praise and size kink!

authors note: btw, i have absolutely no idea if someone else did this idea already, but if you did something similar please tell me!

i'm not even sure how it started. all of this, it went from longing glances and travelling eyes, to the slight touch of hands when you pass by.

there was tension, and we both knew it was there. we chose to ignore it, not wanting to ruin what we had.

i've known chris since preschool. although i'm close friends with nick and matt, something about chris made me want to stick by his side. he felt it too.

'we were practically conjoined at the hip', my parents always remarked. they were right, and i knew they were. but i never caved, always defending myself with a smile and awkward laugh. "no way!"

but now, it's something more than that. more than just an innocent friendship, friends don't make out.

friends don't hook up.

but here we are, chris ushering us into my bedroom, his lips latched onto my collarbone, sucking at it, leaving dark purple marks for the world to see. he shuts the door behind us with his foot, his lips never stopping their work

they inch up to my neck and soon my jawline, leaving soft wet kisses. i feel the back of my shins hit my bedframe, gently lowering myself onto the messy white sheets. my head hits the pillow, a soft whimper of surprise escapes my lips as chris follows me, his mouth trailing down to my cleavage, his soft lips feeling angelic against my tanned skin. "chris-" i say, a slight hint of a whine coating my tone. his thumb slips into my mouth, silencing me.

"shh, ma i know, no teasin' tonight.." he mumbles gently against the curve of my breast, his hands gently slipping under my shirt, cupping my chest through the lacy white bra underneath the silk feeling of my dress.

a soft moan escapes my lips, my eyebrows furrowing at his slow pace. "chris.." i say in a tone that speaks, 'stop messing around.'

he smirks, his eyes meeting mine "what ma?" he says, acting clueless to the way he makes my legs clench everytime his warm breath fans over my stomach. chris's right hand sneakily dips under my dress, two fingers swipe at my panties, collecting it's slick. i gasp softly, not expecting the touch.

i try to close my thighs up, but chris pries them open. "open up." he mumbles, looking into my eyes. he keeps the intense eye contact, his hand trailing down my stomach to my wet heat. he moves my panties to the side, his eyes landing on my folds. his warm breath meets my core, causing me to whine.

i gently buck my hips towards his face, desperate for any sort of friction. his palms grip my thighs tightly, pushing them down toward the bed. "quit it." he says with a dominance that could make me moan. i nod obediently, biting my lips to hold back a comment that could make the process of getting any pleasure even longer.

he starts with gentle kisses and bites down on my inner thighs, gently kissing above my needy core. he lays a gentle kiss on my clit, a whimper falls from my lips as a flash of pleasure shoots through me. "oh fuck- chris, please."

he smirks at my neediness, the cockiness of his expression is practically radiating off of him. "patience baby, patience." he finally reaches where i need him most, his mouth working magic on my weeping hole. his tongue flicks between my folds, dragging long slow stripes as his fingers curl and pump in and out of me, stretching me out in preparation for his lengthy cock.

as he works me out, he stares deeply into my eyes, examining the way my face contorts in pleasure, and how the pretty sounds leave my soft lips. "look at this fucking pretty pussy baby, you see that?" he mumbles against my cunt, the vibrations of his deep voice making the experience all the better. he fingers me more roughly, pumping them in more harder and faster. "huh? you see how dripping wet you are for me?"

i nod wordlessly, my eyes rollling back as i try to grasp onto the sheets below me. he pulls his mouth away abrubtly, his fingers stopping their rough movements. "fuckin' answer me with words."

"i-i see how wet i am for you, i love it so much baby." he smirks condescendingly, scoffing. "sit up." i quickly sit up on my knees, gnawing on my lip as my core aches with need, eager for attention. chris lies down, his hands grabbing my thighs, tugging my forward to hover his lips. i gasp softly at his dominance, but i don't make a sound about it.

he pulls me down to sit firmly on his face, as he starts working his mouth again. i throw my head back as his tongue slips inside me, his lips sucking on my bundle of nerves, all of his actions working beautifully together.

the room fills with the sound of slurping and moaning, the noises sinful, but feeling so good. "chris- please, fuck, l-let me move." to which my surprise, his hands let go, falling next to his head. i instantly start to rock, grinding down relentlessly against his mouth. as i grind down on his face, his hand lays a harsh smack against my ass, causing me to whimper. "f-fuck, feels so good."

his hands continue to leave marks against my ass, roughly spanking me.

as i start to grind sloppier and slower, chris pulls me off him by my waist, forcefully arching my back and stuffing my face in the pillows near my headboard. i gasp at his roughness, whimpering, "chris-!" my arms try to support me by holding myself up on my elbows, but chris rejects it as he grabs my wrists, pulling them behind my back as my face drops down onto the mattress.

he takes my wrists into his left hand, his right hand tugging down on his sweatpants, leaving them at his ankles while his feet kick off. his tip peeks out from the waistband of his boxers, a small patch of precum stains the grey fabric from his leaking slit.

he hisses quietly as he pulls down his boxers, the cold air hitting his hard shaft. he lines his tip up with my entrance, swiping it teasingly through my folds, but never once going inside me. i whine, wiggling my hips towards him, needy for some sort of pleasure. chris's hand lands roughly on my ass. "stay still. be a good little slut baby.."

i moan softly from the pain, tears brimming from the sting. "p-please, i need it." he spanks me again, his hands trailing up to grab my hair, roughly pulling it back. "what do you need baby? cmon pretty girl use your words, 'know you can.."

"mmph, fuck- need your cock so badly." he smirks, gently rubbing my red ass, his handprints marked all over it. "mmm, good girl.." he says, positioning himself to my sopping wet cunt. he uses a little bit of his spit, gently fingering it inside me as a natural lube, before then roughly slamming into me.

i moan out in pleasure and pain, feeling the way his cock molds into my stomach, stretching me out in such a way it feels good.

"o-oh shit!" i say, my face stuffed into the pillow, courtesy to chris. he pulls out almost all of the way, making me feel empty, just before slamming right back in, stuffing me. "fuck, you like that baby?"

i nod, moaning dumbly as tears fall from my face. "f-fuuuck, yes! it feels so good!" he chuckles before groaning, the sounds of my wet cunt filling my bedroom. "oh yeah, shit, like this pussy's made f' me..." as his words fill my ears, i feel a coil starting to tighten in my stomach. chris then pulls out, flipping me over so i'm laying on my back. he roughly slams back into me, pulling my left leg over his shoulder, his hands tightly holding onto my ankle as he pounds into me.

i cry out into the night air, my back arching off of the bed at how good chris can reach spots in me i didn't even know were in my body. his tip repeatedly taps my cervix roughly bruising it everytime. "fuuuck, your ex didn't fuck you this good, did he?" he says. i whimper out his name, my eyes meeting his. his right hand gently presses down on my stomach, looking at the way his girthy length has it's own outline inside me. it even makes chris let out a groan, his head falling back as his thrusts get even sloppier.

the coil in my stomach gets even tighter, as i can tell i'm about to release. "o-oh fuck, chris 'm gonna cum."

he smirks, his thumb coming down to my clit, rubbing quick circles onto it, mumbling nonsense as he almost reaches his climax. "oh yeah baby, just like that, go ahead. make that pretty noise." his words of reassurance making head swirl with emotion. "f-fuck, chris!" i moan out, as my back left off the bed, my back arching. the coil snaps in my stomach, my climax washing me over in an overwhelming state of euphoria. "c-chris!!" my legs shake, chris quickly following my release with his own.

he groans out, "oh fuck, shit y/n i'm cumming!" he moans out loudly, his thick warm spurts of cum shooting inside me, coating my walls. chris collapses onto me, him leaning on his elbows as to not crush me under his weight. we both lay together, still connected in a beautiful way.

he gently pulls out after moments of rest, him wincing as i whimper, my cunt still sensitive. "sorry ma. you did so good.." he says, gently running his fingers through my hair. "you okay? i didn't go to rough did i?"

i catch my breath, shaking my head as i swallow. "no, you-you did fine." he smiles, feeling reassured. "thanks, you did too..sorry if i was rough.. do ya' want me to get some water?" he says sweetly, his thumb rubbing subconscious circles on my hip. "if you could that'd be amazing baby..." i say, tired and fucked out.

he nods, sitting up. "i'll be right back." he gently kisses my hand, standing up and leaving my bedroom. as he leaves, i stare up at the ceiling, taking in deep breaths, contemplating everything that happened in the last 30 minutes.

what are chris and i?

are we just fuck buddies?

does he even feel the same as me?

as soon as he left, he arrives back, shutting the door behind him. he gently climbs onto the bed, holding the glass, "here ya' go..i even added ice." he adds, smiling, trying to get a reaction out of me. i giggle softly, smirking. "wow, so thoughtful of you." i take a sip, his eyes trailing down my figure.

as i finish my sip, i wipe my lips, setting down the glass on my nightstand. i gnaw on my lip softly, thinking. "hey, uh chris?" he looks at me with tender eyes. "hm?"

"uhm..what are we?" he seems to pause at that question, not really knowing an answer. "..well, what do you wanna be?" his question stumps me. i mean, i wanna be his. i wanna be called his girlfriend. i wanna be the one he wakes up to in the morning, not just someone he comes to when he's horny. but i'm not gonna say all of that. "..i don't know."

the lie makes my tongue thick and burn, fighting the urge to spill my feelings. "..i mean, i like you, alot y'know? like more then just a hook up." he adds on, his tone sincere. when he speaks, i feel shocked but relieved at the same time.

i look away, nervous. "..me too. i like you alot." he smiles softly, his earlier cockiness gone from his expression. "..so what are we?" i add, nervous for the answer he'll give.

"..well your mine, and i'm yours."

i'm actually kinda proud with this fic, cause i also got it two 2,000 words!! <33

-love, starsturni

currently tagging:

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[bradleysass]

Afternoon Surprise - Word Count: 760 - Starchaser

James Potter, ever the mischievous romantic, lay sprawled on the bed, utterly and unapologetically naked, save for the strategic placement of a fluffy throw pillow between his legs.

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. James Potter, ever the mischievous romantic, lay sprawled on the bed, utterly and unapologetically naked, save for the strategic placement of a fluffy throw pillow between his legs. His wrists were cuffed to the headboard, and a cheeky grin adorned his face.

“Brilliant plan, Potter,” he murmured to himself, smirking at the thought of Regulus's reaction when he walked through the door after a long day at work. He could already picture Regulus's carefully composed expression cracking, his icy demeanor giving way to heat and desire.

The sound of the front door creaking open brought James out of his daydream. His grin widened.

“Reg, love!” he called out, his voice dripping with anticipation. “I’ve got a surprise for you upstairs!”

There was a brief pause, followed by a muffled voice James didn’t recognize.

Oh no.

His stomach dropped as the unmistakable sound of Regulus chatting with someone else grew louder. Moments later, the bedroom door opened, revealing not just Regulus, but also Barty Crouch Jr., who stood just behind him, a curious smirk tugging at his lips.

Regulus froze, his sharp gray eyes widening slightly as they landed on James. For a moment, the usually unflappable Black brother seemed completely at a loss for words. Barty, however, had no such reservations.

“Well, well,” Barty drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe, his piercing gaze sweeping over the scene. “This is quite the domestic tableau. Do you always greet Regulus like this, or am I just lucky today?”

James’s face turned a shade of crimson that would have made a Gryffindor banner proud. He squirmed under Barty’s gaze, the handcuffs clinking softly against the headboard.

“Barty,” Regulus began, his tone low and icy, “you were just leaving.”

Barty’s grin widened. “Leaving? When the entertainment’s just begun?”

“OUT,” Regulus hissed, and for a moment, the room seemed to chill. Barty chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. But for the record, Potter, I approve. Very bold.” With one last amused glance, he sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, measured sigh. He stood still for a moment, visibly collecting himself before turning to face James.

“James,” he said slowly, crossing the room until he stood at the foot of the bed. His gray eyes bore into James’s, equal parts exasperated and amused. “What, exactly, were you thinking?”

James bit his lip, his embarrassment fading slightly as he watched the corner of Regulus’s mouth twitch upward ever so slightly. “I thought you’d find it romantic,” he said sheepishly. “You’ve had a long day, and I thought, you know, I’d spice things up a bit.”

Regulus let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “Romantic, he says. And what was your plan if I didn’t come home alone?”

“To be fair, I didn’t know you’d bring Barty over,” James shot back, his lips curving into a playful grin despite himself. “I mean, who brings Barty home unannounced? He’s like a feral cat in human form.”

Regulus arched an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know that Barty’s help with—never mind. That’s not the point.” He crossed his arms, though his stern expression was betrayed by the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “The point is that you’re handcuffed to our bed, naked, and Barty just saw you like this.”

“He didn’t see anything important,” James protested, wiggling slightly for emphasis, the pillow bouncing precariously. “The pillow did its job!”

Regulus snorted, the sound uncharacteristically light. He stepped closer, his cool fingers brushing James’s jaw as he leaned down. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, his voice soft and teasing.

“But you love me,” James quipped, tilting his head up to catch Regulus’s gaze.

Regulus’s lips twitched again, and he leaned in, brushing a slow, deliberate kiss against James’s mouth. It was a kiss filled with equal parts reprimand and reassurance, leaving James breathless.

“Unfortunately for me,” Regulus murmured as he pulled back, his tone warm despite the words, “I do.”

James grinned triumphantly, his hazel eyes sparkling. “So, are you going to uncuff me now, or are you planning on leaving me here all night?”

Regulus smirked, his fingers trailing down James’s chest. “That depends,” he said, his voice dropping to a low purr. “Did you learn your lesson about planning ridiculous surprises?”

“Absolutely not,” James replied without hesitation. “But you’ll love the next one, too.”

[strawberryforks]

Can you please write something for Tim Bradford where the reader is his rookie? Kind of like a grumpy /sunshine fic?? I just started watching the rookie and I'm literally in love with him😩

reckless smiles

warnings: probably swearing, mentions of DV & guns, other police stuff, nepotism (oops)

a/n: got you anon! hope this works! 🙈🙈 as always, asks are SO open! i’m working on a part two to the other TR fic i posted (per request) and if anyone likes this one there’s another small fic in this little mini series already written that i could post! it’s the call with barnaby <3 anyways, ENJOY!!

Sergeant Grey stands at the front of the briefing room. You’re sitting in the front row (like all rookies do), just happy to be here, beside fellow trainees Nolan, West, and Chen. “Rookies!” booms the sergeant, “today, we’re going to switch things up. Nolan you’re with Lopez, Chen with Bishop, West with me,” your face falls, smile collapsing completely, morphing into something else as you realize who's left to pair up with. Who you’ll be riding with today.

Tim Bradford.

Nolan leans over from his chair. He rests his hand on your shoulder while standing up and moving past you. But first, “You’ll be okay,” he assures—Chen, Bradford’s usual victim, doesn’t say a thing. Instead she shoots you a squashed smile and mouths “good luck,” you know you’ll need it but… but you’ll make the best out of it. Like always.

You steel your expression, trying to wipe away the upset that slipped onto your face momentarily. Despite Tim Bradford being the biggest asshole in the LAPD he’s your superior and you were raised to respect rank… even if you don’t respect the person.

“L/n, you’re with Bradford. Try not to kill each other. You’re good cops, we need you both.”

“She’s a boot. Hardly a cop,” Tim Bradford, asshole extraordinaire, chimes in.

“This batch of rookies is a good one and you know that. L/n is a legacy, top scores in the academy and a record number of arrests for her first year on the force. That’s not easily dismissable.”

Officers began to trickle out of the room, Lopez and Bishop were the first to leave, and then your friends—their rookies, Nolan and Chen, with.

“Feeding me to the wolves, West?” Jackson grins back at you, shrugs, and the door shuts behind him. Even Grey leaves, not wanting to be a part of this. The entire briefing room is empty save from you, Tim Bradford, and Smitty. Smitty, who has his hand inside a miniature bag of popcorn and his feet crossed at the ankles and stacked on top of the desk in front of him. He smacks loudly and Tim shoots him a withering glare. “Fine, fine,” he says, palms raised, “I’ll go. Just uh… tell me how it–”

“Smitty!”

He leaves the briefing room and then you’re left alone.

“Boot,”

“Sir,” you echo.

“I know you’re used to special treatment but that’s not how I work. I’ll be driving,” sure you (with your history) love to be behind the wheel but that’s not a problem, Tim doesn’t let Lucy drive either, it isn’t bias, just how he does things. “You do what I say when I say–none of that reckless idiotic behaviour I hear about from Harper. Just because she has unorthodox methods does not mean you should be copying them. You’re a rookie. Today, my rookie.”

“I don’t expect special treatment. And yes sir.”

Tim crosses his arms across his chest and tilts his head ever so slightly. He can’t figure you out–it frustrates him that he wants to. You’re always smiling and even now, looking at him with as close to a frown as he’s ever seen on your face, there’s something in your eyes. Not happiness but challenge, maybe? Determination. A sparkle that can’t be dimmed. Not with his shouting, not with his Tim-Tests. He almost takes it as a challenge. He almost tries to break you, to interrupt that inability to back down–the one he knows will get you killed.

The next week is awful but every day you show up to work with a smile (sometimes faux–but fake it until you make it and all that) and the drive to do better, to impress him.

You can’t.

At a DV call, the assaulted woman is terrified. Tim, he would leave that detail out, instead focusing on your shortcomings (how he had threatened to give you a blue page, how you sat there and took it: “I’d understand, is all I’m saying. If you need to put that blue page in my file, go ahead. And I know my lack of regret is not making this better for myself but… I’d do it again,”) that when the victim pulled a gun and pointed it at your head, after you arrested her husband, you decided to take away Tim’s shot. She was frantic and angry, losing her absolute mind, but moreover she was scared and when she pointed the gun at you–safety off, finger pulsing over the trigger because all of her was shaking. Tim had her in his crosshairs. You saw this and moved. You moved, knowing she would follow, and putting yourself at risk while making sure she couldn’t be killed. In your eyes, she was still the victim. She did fire her weapon. Into the ceiling, after you knocked the gun away.

Two similar incidents follow. Ones where you put yourself in needless danger.

You’re reckless. Impulsive. He’s seen you speed off duty, seen you sweet-talk the would-be arresting officer, give him your number and drive away scott free. All because of your smile, because of the twinkle in your eyes. The brightness, the innocent glow. Tim has seen you out at the club, drinking your bodyweight in booze, dancing and singing karaoke, and even a Clip Tok video of you soaking wet after diving into a partially frozen lake to rescue a dog. The public went wild over that one–Aaron Thorsen was in frame too, boosting the videos popularity. Tim could recognize the sentiment. It was great how determined you were, how kind you were, and the soft spot you had for animals and people alike but he was there and had hated every second of that terrifying call.

Tim corrects you, you smile and take it, switching your coffee into your other hand, handing the one you bought him over.

Tim shouts at you, that’s fine, you smile and take it.

That’s what you do, what you’ve always done: smile and endure.

“It’s downpouring, good thing our shift is almost over.”

“I’ve always liked the rain. It’s nice,”

“What part of getting rained on is nice, Boot? It’s basically the sky crying.”

“We need rain. If it’s good for plants it can’t be bad for us.”

“I find that logic flawed.”

“You find a lot of logic flawed, sir.”

“What was that?”

You tell him nothing, that you didn’t mean it, and your shift is over. Heading back to the station to grab your things you make your way into the locker room. Lucy’s there, pulling on her jacket and taking out her umbrella. “How do you do it, Luce?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Deal with Tim. He hates me. I try so hard and he just hates me,”

“I don’t think…”

“He does. You know he does. He hates me because of my last name, because he doesn’t think I’m a good cop. Because I smile. I don’t know what to do. No one’s ever hated me for smiling before…”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Just hang in there. We’ve only got a few months left before we’re P2s then Grey’ll let you ride with someone else, I’m sure. Maybe with me–how about it?”

You nod, and give Lucy a small smile. She sees through it, how tired you look, how defeated. She rests her hand on your shoulder. “I’ve got to get going. Jackson’s waiting for me–I said I’d cook tonight.”

“See ya, Luce. Have a goodnight and say ‘hi’ to West for me.”

“Of course.”

Lucy slings her bag over her shoulder and leaves the locker room. The door swings open a second time and in walks Tim. He’s silent as he walks over to you. As he mirrors your movements across the small room, grabbing his own things from the cubby space.

Hehearditallhehearditallhehearditall.

You paste a smile on, almost wincing as you slip past him and– “Boo–Y/n.”

Your back faces him and all of you wants to keep it that way. My shift is over–I don’t have to endure, you think, but then you hear your father’s voice. Hear his lessons on respect, on how things should work in the department, how to interact with coworkers, superiors–even the awful ones. You turn to him, you look up, meet his icy blue eyes and repress a shiver. You forget to smile. Your slips stay pressed into a small line as you look at him, realizing that you are too close. You’re too close and you should back up but you can’t. Your breathing heavily, you realize Tim is too. He’s looking down at you with melting eyes. The frost, the coldness, seem to fade away as his hand flys to the back of your neck.

Your tongue darts out, wets your lips, and then his press to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, your body reacting to his touch while your mind hasn’t caught up. TimBradfordiskissingme. MyTOiskissingme. Those thoughts are the only ones that make it through the fog. The questions are satiated by how he’s making you feel. His lips are warm and soft, like his breath, when he pulls away for a moment, eyes boring into your own. “Is this–”

“Yes,” you say. It’s okay. It’ssookay. Betterthanokay.You nod a few times for clarification and one of his large hands lands on the small of your back, pressing you to him, the other moves beside your head as he pushes you against the wall, caging you in.

You’ve never been more okay with being trapped. By him, by his mouth.

His kisses were talking and when they stopped, he was ready to.

Staring down at you with a fast beating heart (no match for the rate your own was thumping in your chest at) he smiled back, for once. It was infectious. A grin split your face and you felt blissful, for a moment. Like you and Tim were the only two in the world, like nothing else mattered, like you were floating in a bubble, transcending your problems and surroundings.

It was a nice bubble, “I don’t hate you.”

Until he popped it. Until he reminded you of what had just happened, of what led to this and the conversation you had with Lucy–the one he overheard.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” you blurt.

He raises a brow. His expression says ‘you don’t believe me? After that?’ and fair enough, because all you believe now is that you’re incredibly confused. Incredibly, very confused.

“You yell at me, you constantly talk about how I’m not ready to be a cop, you regularly threaten to give me blue pages and criticize what I do in my freetime–”

“None of that means I hate you.”

“It doesn’t make it seem like you like me! You get mad at me for smiling!”

“I don’t… okay, I get annoyed sometimes but it’s situational. When I’m reaming you out, you shouldn’t be smiling.”

“It’s that or cry! I don’t like being yelled at.”

“I don’t like when you put yourself at risk constantly. That’s why I yell, that’ why I reprimand you. You’ll make a damn good cop but no one wants you to make yourself a fucking martyr. No one wants you to put everything else–the job, a dog–above your own life! I get mad because I care,” he argues. Then lowly, “too damn much.”

“Bradford…”

“It’s Tim, to you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry anyone. I just…” you trail off, Tim still watching you closely. “I can’t not try to save someone. I became a cop to do good, to help people, not to hurt them, to shoot them, to arrest innocents and victims of circumstance. There’s enough awfulness in the world that I don't want to contribute. I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t want to be a cop but it’s what my family does–I like the job now, but the way I work it, you know?”

“I get it. I do. You just need to be more careful. You weren’t even on the clock on that call,”

You’re not exactly sure which call he’s referencing. You’ve intervened a few too many times when you shouldn’t have been on duty. It’s how you have (as said by Grey) ‘a record number of arrests for your first year on the force’ because you don’t let injustice slide just because you’re not getting paid. That, and because you’re ridiculously nosey.

“What call?”

“With the drug dealer and that stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you scold. “Barnaby is far from stupid.”

“Barnaby?”

“Yeah. He was a stray so I kept and named him. We trauma bonded–no way I was letting him go to a shelter after that.”

“No, no, that makes sense. I’m just wondering how the hell you came up with Barnaby.

You shrug; it’s a good name.

“Bradford!” shouts Grey, “you in there?”

Tim walks towards the door, shouting back and confirming his presence.

“My office! There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Alright!” Tim turns to you, he mouths his goodbyes and slips from the room leaving you incredibly confused.

[astro-stars]

pickup lines (X Riddle)

The rose garden of Heartslabyul was alive with the sounds of cheerful chatter, clinking teacups, and the occasional squawk from Grim as he vied for more tarts. It was another one of the Queen’s magnificent unbirthday parties, and as usual, the entire dorm was in attendance. Yuu sat comfortably at the long table, surrounded by the colorful chaos, sipping tea as they observed the festivities.

Riddle, ever the picture of composure, presided over the party with his usual air of authority, ensuring every rule was followed to the letter. His sharp gaze swept over the table, his expression softening slightly as he saw the others enjoying themselves.

Yuu’s eyes lingered on him. Riddle looked particularly striking today, his crimson hair catching the sunlight, his posture regal and commanding. Something about the scene made an idea pop into Yuu’s head, and before they could think better of it, the words were already tumbling out of their mouth.

“Hey, Riddle,” Yuu said, their tone light and playful.

Riddle turned to them, tilting his head slightly. “Yes, Prefect? Is something the matter?”

Yuu grinned. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

The table fell silent. Trey paused mid-slice of a tart, Cater’s camera hovered in the air as he blinked in surprise, and Ace nearly spat out his tea. Even Grim froze, a tart halfway to his mouth.

Riddle’s face turned as red as his hair. “W-What?” he stammered, his usual poise crumbling as he stared at Yuu in shock.

“Oh, you heard me,” Yuu said, their grin widening. “Or maybe you’re just too stunning to concentrate?”

“Prefect!” Riddle spluttered, his hands gripping the edge of the table as though to steady himself. “What are you talking about? This is highly inappropriate for an unbirthday party!”

“Come on, Riddle,” Yuu teased, leaning forward slightly. “You can’t tell me you’ve never been swept off your feet by someone’s charm before. Am I doing it wrong?”

Ace was beside himself with laughter, slapping the table. “Oh my Seven, Yuu, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Keep going!”

“Shut it, Ace!” Riddle snapped, his voice a pitch higher than usual. “And you!” He pointed a trembling finger at Yuu. “Stop this nonsense at once!”

“I’ll stop if you answer me,” Yuu said with a wink. “Is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

Riddle’s entire face was now a deep scarlet, and Trey quickly intervened, placing a calming hand on his dorm leader’s shoulder. “Easy, Riddle. I think the Prefect’s just trying to have a little fun.”

“Fun?” Riddle echoed, his voice faint. “This… this is beyond ridiculous! It’s…”

“Adorable?” Cater offered, snapping a quick photo of Riddle’s flustered face. “Gotta say, Prefect, you’ve got guts. This is pure gold.”

“Cater!” Riddle yelled, his composure slipping further.

Yuu chuckled, leaning back in their chair. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. For now. But you’ve gotta admit, Riddle, you’re fun to tease.”

Riddle buried his face in his hands, muttering something about decorum and maintaining order. Despite his protests, however, there was a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the party resumed, the dorm members couldn’t help but steal glances at their flustered dorm leader, the memory of Yuu’s bold antics adding a bit of extra cheer to the already lively celebration.

divider/border ; me :)

taglist: @lunasmisosoup @soramcduckahyucky

[reddevilmcnt]

"Now why would I bother playing matchmaker for you when I've already seen you speak to women?"

The words are dry, touched with that measured calm he so often possesses, but there, just barely, a flicker of amusement stirs across his face. Subtle, restrained. His lips don't part fully, the curve never quite reaching his eyes, yet it softens the hollow vacancy he so often wears, as if life briefly stirs behind the mask.

A man hollowed out by war. A dead thing walking. Smiling feels foreign now, unnecessary, as if the effort costs more than it gives. Even his family, though he loves them, often feels distant, the bond splintered in a way he can't name, like holding affection at arm's length for reasons he can never fully articulate. Perhaps that's why he imagines Arthur understands. Drowning the echoes of the past in drugs, in drink, in violence----- always violence.

But where Arthur and John became more savage, unraveling in ways loud and visible, Tommy went the other way. He shut down. Grew colder. Numb. His temper, though still alive, became a thing of patience... a beast concealed in silence, striking only when the moment was right. Calculated. Precise.

But tonight, with Eric, something shifts. He shows a rare sense of humor, and though it’s subtle, it transforms his entire face. It’s not much; a slight lightness in his expression, the usual internal anger and sorrow momentarily fading. The corner of his mouth lifts gently, just a semi-curled smile, revealing a softer side beneath the surface.

The thought of matchmaking never crosses his mind; there’s no reason to entertain it. After all, if he’s not going to gain anything from it, why bother? In the future, something might change------ Eric could be thrust into a position of power, some unforeseen responsibility falling upon him. That’s when Tommy’s loyalty and alliance might actually mean something. But for now, Tommy only sees a boy------ innocent, naïve, muttering about how he never considered touching another woman. Tommy doesn’t believe it, not really. Nonetheless, if Eric wants to keep retreating into his shell, hiding from what he’s too afraid to confront, who is Tommy to stop him? Inexperienced boys, after all, should hold little interest for him.

Once Tommy settles, his amusement still there but less overt, he drags the tip of his thumb slowly along his jaw, the cigarette cradled loosely in his hand. His head tilts, eyes narrowing slightly, when Eric dares to turn the question back on him. The lad does this quite frequently, asking Tommy things, always with that polite hesitation. It’s disquieting, because Tommy would’ve imagined someone like Eric to see him as nothing more than a grotesque monster, more nightmare than flesh and blood. And maybe, just maybe, there existed a grotesque, depraved part of Tommy that yearned for it------ a dark, visceral need to prey on the fear of someone more innocent, more untarnished than he could ever be. Maybe he thrived on that sick power, the thought of breaking something so beautifully innocent.

But still... there’s a part of him, buried deep beneath the cynicism and the deadness, that appreciates the unguarded recognition of the man he once was. Even if that man is long gone.

What type does he like?

Before the war, Tommy’s desires were simple, almost naive, and now it feels like looking back on another lifetime, another version of himself. In those days, he craved the warmth and affection of women, but his deepest loyalties lay with his closest male friends. That brotherhood, forged and solidified in the trenches of France, had been intense------ perhaps, even, he’d secretly longed for their affection too. But then he returned home, and everything was numb, everyone just a blur of faces. People were no longer people, just figures passing through a haze. At first, he desired nothing. Too drained, too haunted by the constant terror of those tunnels, the endless deaths, the shovels scraping against the earth. Night after night, the fear consumed him, only to wake up the next morning, sobbing silently in his bed.

As time wore on, his needs became mechanical. He turned to whores, pretty individuals who demanded nothing more than his money and his cum. It was easier that way, no expectations, no emotions, nothing to tether him to anyone. Still, if he were being honest, he wouldn't call that the only thing that caught his eye.

He was captivated by the beautiful and the untainted, those whose laughter flowed freely. Those unburdened by the brutal realities of this world and death. At times, he may have wanted to reach for them, to cradle their light, to feel their warmth. But then, having lived so long in darkness, he also found himself fascinated by the chaos within others. The madness that crackled in their eyes, the wildness in their souls------ it was as potent as any drug. To watch another living, breathing creature free in their own untamed mind, to see them flinch not at death’s embrace, could make him quite... ravenous.

He supposes there’s no easy answer, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path along his bottom lip before he pulls deeply from the cigarette. His eyes flicker upward to the ceiling, the smoke curling around his head like a halo, as the singer’s voice croons through the air, the question echoing in his mind, tangled in the music.

A complex man deserves to have complex desires.

"I like… whatever satisfies me for the night," Tommy mutters, opting for the most straightforward response, guided by his deepest instincts, though it only skims the surface. He craves a proper dalliance, something that will bend for him, take the brunt of his aggression, and then vanish into the night, leaving him alone until the next round is called. And he doubts his answer will surprise Eric, even though it’s not the full truth. After all, what about Thomas Shelby suggests romance?

His gaze shifts to the side as the waitress approaches, setting down his usual drink, a perfect amber liquid filling two crystal glasses. She obediently slides one towards him, head bowed ever so slightly. "May I get anything else for you, sir?" Her tone is soft, deferential. She knows his typical orders here, but she waits on him, as she’s been trained to do. For a brief moment, she forgets Eric even exists.

"I'm fine, thank you," Tommy rumbles, sending her off with a nod before his attention returns to Eric. Eric can order whatever he likes, of course----- Tommy won’t object. "So, how would you woo someone? Poetry? Letters?" That chilling, ghostly gaze fixes on Eric through the swirling smoke, dark brows knitting ever so slightly as he contemplates. "How do you hope to seduce someone when you have no experience in the art?" There’s genuine interest beneath the mockery, though, a faint curiosity... because, truly, Tommy would like to see it. If only for the amusement of it, of course.

... the silence is heavy with something he couldn't name. eric tugs lightly at the silk scarf, slender fingertips twining into the cool fabric. when thomas halts, eric does as well--always that perfect amount of distance between them. ( etiquette is the rules by which gentlemen abide. after so long, he would be utterly lost if he didn't follow--always hesitant. never wanting to seem too much or too little or rude or,

well. for him, it was a life-saving raft that floated by whilst he was caught in the middle of his family's turbulent air. )

his dark eyes rest steadily upon the other man, a question on the tip of his tongue--one that he swallows. the way thomas looks at him is unfamiliar. eric is used to being--treasured. babied and spoiled and treated like glass. even his father's voice would soften at the sight of him, a trait that his brothers never ceased to use.

( had asked his older brother, once, why that was the case. after a long pause, his brother had said there's something in your eyes before hurrying off. eric had waved the thought off, after a moment. his brother, at that point in time, had buried himself in theatre and elaborate spectacles. )

but the way thomas looks at him is--myriad thoughts flickering from behind an opaque veil. eric is the first to look away, lashes dipping to obscure the light of his eyes for a heartbeat. glances to the moon, instead, before returning back to thomas. ( even when he looks away, he is unfairly aware of the man--thomas' sheer presence buzzing at the edges of his consciousness. )

i wouldn't, the man says. a half-smile ghosts across the curve of eric's mouth--turning quizzical at the next phrase. among men like me. he's not quite sure what that means, though he recognizes the warning behind the words. eric is not so naive as to think thomas to be not as dangerous as he portrays himself to be. on the contrary, he's rather surprised that he hasn't been kicked to the curb and told, disdainfully, to find his way back home.

still, they revolve around the same darkness. eric, merely existing on the peripherals, as if only existent in the twilight hours where light kisses dark, and thomas--well. someone who is as used to being obeyed as he seems to be must find the dark underbelly of the world more familiar than the idea of peace. he's familiar with the men who live there. breaks bread with his brothers who come home, sometimes reeking of blood. other times, with icy glares that only melt after spending hours in front of the fireplace--after hours in eric's quiet company, curled up in the armchair with a well worn book.

he doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't. follows, instead, down a narrow staircase--the scent of smoke heavy in the air as his eyes readjusts to the dim light. he perks up, slightly, at the velvet song of the vocalist--wonder caught like gossamer in the way he blinks, soft and slow.

... he catches the way the host readjusts to the sight of thomas' face, and chooses not to question him. some things are better left unsaid. ( it's not that he doesn't like facing the truth, but--well. not everything has to be truth. sometimes, it's far easier to let dreams and mirror-gauze fall across jagged edges. far easier to be soft.

he remembers long nights spent at his younger brother's bedside. his little brother was swathed in red--and a cold frisson of fear had crawled down his back when he dropped to his knees beside him. easier to wipe away his sweat and hold him during his nightmares and not ask. )

eric sinks down into the booth across from thomas--turning his gaze to the low-lit stage and the singer who sang softly upon it. taps his finger to the beat, lashes drooping as he very steadily does his best to stave off the burning sensation of thomas' stare. ( though, if the tips of his ears are tinted red, no one but him and the shadows that encase him will know. )

when thomas leans forward, eric automatically follows--though his gaze averts slightly once he realizes what he's done. rolls his shoulders back and, once more, touches fingertips to his scarf. what sort of women do you prefer?

and eric--

--eric coughs, caught by shock and pressing his fist to his mouth. his dark eyes are wide, lips parting just slightly as he attempts to comprehend the question.

( then, the next phrase registers. )

immediately, his gaze narrows. catches himself in the middle of a poisonous retort--and softens, instead. allows his gaze to flicker back to the singer, exhaling before he responds.

"no one is beneath me," he says. a thief could just as easily gut him in the middle of the night as a nobleman would use rumours to ruin him. he's not in the business of turning a haughty glance to anyone that could hold grudges--especially with the weight of his family's name. so he is polite. so he is careful,

always three or four steps ahead, so that he could stay away from doing things like accidentally insulting a man's grandmother. ( ... he has seen what hunger does to men. though his father feeds him and his brothers are keen to protect him, he knows that he could not survive the way they do.

and is it a crime to want to live? he thinks not. )

"i've never thought about it," he says, softly. there were always more pressing things to think about--more indulgent things to do than to find an attractive dame for the night. "i don't really know who i would like. never tried, really."

but he's a romantic at heart, so he ventures, "someone i could woo, perhaps? why do you ask, thomas?" his lips twitch; he looks almost sheepish, a soft pink blooming underneath his eyes as he glances away. "surely you don't seek to matchmake me with another," a faint grimace. "i hear enough about that from my brothers."

slants thomas a faint glance--shifting back, the light of the stage reflecting in his dark eyes. he's curious, now. "and you, thomas? what type do you like? if--" gentle, "it isn't impolite to ask."

[arminsumi]

Betting your girl's mouth on a basketball game was crazy — and Suguru was all for it.

After taking a loss that may or may not have been deliberate, jock!Suguru wears a dirty grin on his face while watching you suck his best friends virgin cock like a good girl, loving the nasty wet noises you make while slurping up and down nerd!Satoru's pulsing shaft, slowly stroking himself to the sight of you on your knees, making cock disappear in your mouth like magic.

And Satoru — the poor boy — is losing his mind because he's never felt a woman's lips around his dummy big cock before. He used to tell you that sex is beneath him — now he's throwing his head back, gritting his pearly whites, curling his toes and biting his bottom lip 'till it's all red, totally surrendering to your little mouth — it's just so funny to you, 'cause he's been the know-it-all bastard telling you "... you're just Suguru's slut. If you paid as much attention in class as you did to my best friend's dick, maybe you'd amount to something. Do you even remember what we learned yesterday? Exactly. But I do — that's why I'm the top student and you're just — "

Bla bla bla... Satoru's now showing you how much precum his dummy big cock leaks — it's a sticky mess oozing out of his tip all over your quivering tongue. You looked up at him and winked, and he seethed inside because god he's hated you for so long but now your lips are wrapped around his cock and your mouth is taking him to heaven.

He's whining, biting into his fist, knees all wobbly. the texture of your tongue drives him nuts — then it clicks. oh, this is why my best friend is obsessed with his girlfriend. This is why he can't shut up and stop oversharing his sex life with me.

'Cause heaven really does exist on her tongue.

"fuck, slow down..." Satoru tries to ease his cock out your mouth, feeling his orgasm threatening to erupt at any moment.

But Suguru pushes you back down on his cock, filling your cheeks again, "nah, keep going baby, he's gonna cum — aren't you Satoru? You're gonna cum in my girl's mouth, huh? Come on, big boy, I know how long you've wanted this. Fill this little slut's mouth with your cum."

Those taunting words push him over the edge. His heavy balls tighten up as he feels you suckling his swollen head, and then white ropes come bursting out.

"Ahh—gh! Fuck... nn!"

Satoru's legs give out and he moans like you've never heard a man moan before, releasing all the cum he's worked up for you like he's been waiting years to do this. Actually, he has been waiting years — waiting patiently to find an opportunity to make your jaw ache and eyes well up with tears.

"Baby, you gonna swallow my best friend's cum f'me?" Suguru encourages, stroking his cock lazily against your cheek now.

He watches you compliantly swallow Satoru's seed, and Satoru twitches at the sight.

Huffing, Satoru comes down from his high and brushes his white wispy bangs out of his eyes. He's glaring down at your mouth.

"... still fucking hate you... " Satoru mutters to you in a voice still shaky with the after-effects of his orgasm.

"I still hate you, too." you smile back at him.

His heart flutters and bottom lip twitches. He can't stop staring at your lips, your eyes, your hips, your thighs.

"Ah, Satoru, quit your act — you're the one who proposed this idea in the first place."

You went red in the face. It was Satoru's idea? The mister goody-two-shoes, know-it-all, all A+++ report cards, 'sex is beneath me' Satoru?

"Huh? I thought this was your idea..." but before you can express your surprise you're already feeling Suguru nudge his cockhead against your lips.

"Sh sh, now it's my turn, baby. Open wide."

[tonycries]

BRAT!

Synopsis. Scream it! While he’s still asking nicely, that is…

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, getting reader to not be quiet in béd, CÚMPLAY, spítting, Sukuna’s second tongue, oraI (fem rec), pússydrunk boys, squírting, six eyes, face-sítting, pússy-slappíng, true form Sukuna, chokíng, markíng, exhíbitionism (Nanami), víbrators, dp, slight voice kínks, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Love y’all, have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Let it all out!

“Doll…” he drawls out, that tiny scar at the end of his smirk dragging roughly against your glossy pout. And when Toji’s given nothing more than a few of your muffled, bit-back whimpers, he’s insisting - begging, “My stubborn girl-”

Five thick fingers wrap delicately around your neck - jostling your fucked-out expression up to his greedy gaze, “Cat got yer tongue?” As if to fuck the answer out of you, his hips are ramming angrily, knocking rawly into your bruised g-spot. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hah- fucked dumb already? Wha’s the problem, ma?”

It’s been hours now, and Toji’s absolutely wrecked - blood thumping in his ears, broad chest heaving with short rasps, stars bursting behind his half-lidded eyes after each sloppy thrust. And, yet, he still has enough sanity left to notice when you’re biting down brattily on your knuckles, throat tight with all those sweet moans being held back. 

See, that’s when Toji gets impatient. 

“Fine- be as quiet as your pretty lil’ heart desires, then.” Your eyes are widening at the mushy twitch of his rotund tip - still leaky, still angry. “We’ll see how long that lasts, anyway.”

Just that dark little promise is enough to make you keen - and he’s chuckling, “Now now- what did I say-” Those soft pads of his fingers glide up in a gentle curve towards your lips - but the way he just shoves them inside is anything but. Rounded tips constricting into the very back of your throat, “Ya wanna be quiet? Then, commit to it like the big girl you are.”

Big fat tears spring up to your eyes when he’s hiking a powerful thigh up, pressurizing the ruthless pace of his achy cock even more. Bullying into your velvety walls like he was angry, knocking all the air in your lungs with every glide of his swelteringly hot head along your cervix. 

“Hngh-” you gurgle past his swirling fingers. Your nails piercing ravaged red lines where you’re gripping helplessly onto his wrist, “T-To-ah!”

There’s such a deafening squelch gushing out of your messy cunt when the mean digits on his free hand push down about halfway at your stomach, feeling for the branding little nudge of his fat cock. Toji’s mouth drops in awe at the milky white coating of his cum. Dredge after dredge soiling your inner thighs, forming a creamy little ring where he was pushing his thick hilt into you over and over-

“Shit-” his Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy gulp. Mindlessly, he’s falling down onto his elbows in exhaustion, bending you in half like a little ragdoll underneath him. “N’ suddenly I’m the one speechless, doll- Hahah-”

The heavy thwack! thwack! thwack! of his still painfully-full balls make your head spin, and Toji’s drinking in your little gasps like a starved man. Slow, languid, eyes drooping shut. “S’this why- hngh- s’this why my girl’s bein’ so quiet all of a sudden?” Hips stuttering forwards like he was losing control, just filthy, lusted-up little half-thrusts and drags of his length down your gummy channel. Even that was too much for his poor, overworked cock - painting your insides full with his thick, translucent precum with every swallowed-up inch. “Too cockdrunk? Too hah- full of my cum t’speak?”

You were so close - so overstimulated - you could barely string together a sentence. And you couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to - because your lovely boyfriend only rummaged his fingers deeper inside your mouth. Fuck- it felt so dirty having him fuck you like this - spitting against your lips, twitchy cock mashing deep into all your sensitive spots. Like he was reaching into your lungs - into your barely-lucid mind until you couldn’t do anything but nod. 

“Mmmpf- I-” you’re managing out, the words coming out in a thick, garbled mess that makes his cock throb. “Hngh- yes yes yes-”

“Awww, fuckin’ knew it.” he coos, and it’s all the warning you’re getting before two big strong arms of his haul you up. Falling back onto his muscled thighs in a sitting position - with you all speared like a slut down his unforgiving cockhead. Being bounced up, up, up your limp body nothing against his inhuman strength. “Shit- fuckin’ knew it- My poor girl got fucked so good she couldn’t even speak, huh?” Toji just throws his head back at the answering clench of your elastic walls, molding around each one of his ridges and veins. “How cute–” 

You cower under his weighty gaze, unable to escape. To do anything other than take it when his bicep bulges around your waist, tightening like a vice. “How so very-” Abs clenching when they ram- up- “cute-” He’s gritting his teeth, baring you with such a sweet, sultry smile, one that ghosts the very shell of your ear, “But why don’t you jus’ cum f’me now, ma.”

You don’t know whether his own words have Toji reaching his high - or maybe the sight of you does. Because all you see is black tinging your vision - then white, seeping out of the corners of your puffed-up folds, sopping a wet puddle into the non-existent space between you two.

He’s so vocal when he fucks you through your orgasm, raspy baritone wrenching out little praises like a mantra- “Yeah- yeah there we go. Louder f’me- scream it all out. I know you can do it.”

“P-please, Toji.” You don’t know what you’re begging for - and Toji doesn’t mind. Only pinning your body to his hulking one, holding you so close that your whimpered out moans are almost inaudible over his cushiony pecs. Babbling out, “Please- f-fuck it feels too good hah- m’cumming- m’cumming m’cumming-”

“Such a chatty girl, moanin’ so fuckin’ loud.” he titters. “Don’t you dare hold back that pretty voice from me, m’kay?” 

But only when your orgasm bates into tiny tingles, only when your syrupy sweet moans turn quieten down - only then does Toji pull away. Shuffling onto his knees until his hot breath was fanning your eagerly quivering cunt, soft tongue dragging up your painted white slit, “So let’s see if you scream twice as loud for this, my girl.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Shhh…

“My love…” Nanami breathes out in a ragged pant, his hot breath breezing down your spine. Arching up so sultrily when the pistons of his hips slow down, aching for more more more- “Is something hah- wrong?”

It takes you a second to raise your bleary head up from where it rested amongst all the papers on the desk, the satin of your office skirt hiking up even further when you’re rutting your hips back in a quiet tandem. “N-nothing, Ken–” your words come out hushed - hurried. 

And oh your husband looked so unfairly attractive when he was concerned, blond brows furrowing in the middle, running one hand through his disarrayed hair, the other pulling your teary eyes up to his. “You’re just being so-” There’s an experimental mash of his fat, rounded tip into your mapped-out g-spot, as if to confirm his suspicions. And Nanami grunts at the sight of you biting down on your lower lip, “-quiet…Now now-” His thumb comes to gently pry away your worried lip from under your teeth, “-what’s wrong?”

“S’jus’-” you hiccup, eyes flitting to the closed storage room door. “-m’ so close n’ someone might hear. I know Higuruma also has overtime-”

Shit - you’re so far into your little rant that you don’t notice the way his entire body stiffens, jaw clenching at the mention of your - and his - coworker. You can only gasp when Nanami’s towering figure just shoves you deeper into the cool mahogany desk. One hand on your head, the other wrapped nicely around your blabbering mouth.

“You’re right-” Nanami breathes, words tinted with a slow, dangerous purr. And it makes your velvety walls just seep a fresh gloss of your sweet sweet juices down all his long, hard inches. “-better not make a noise unless you want to get caught then, because m’not going easy on you today, darling.”

And fuck, Nanami likes to think himself a practical man - a sensible man, even. But right now all he could see was red - nothing past the way that other man had been eying you a little too closely these days, laughing at your jokes a little too loud. 

Don’t get him twisted, he knows you’d never do anything - you were his pretty lil’ wife after all, the love of his absolute soul. But sometimes, he just wanted to make you scream it out. 

Your pretty eyes bat hypnotically over your shoulder, “K-Ken- oh!”

Only to be shut up by the furious pummeling of all his rock-hard shaft, the sheer girth of it already making you keen. It’s enough for honeyed moans to bubble up in your throat, ticking in time with that angry pulsing of his thick tip massaging your plushy walls. 

“Shh shhh-” Nanami coos, and you feel his abs ripple from behind you when he leans his weight down, down, down to pin you even more helplessly against the desk. Those thick fingers of his cover your mouth even firmer, “We hafta be quiet, remember?”

If he was looking for an answer, then Nanami fully and thoroughly fucks it out of you. 

Those important documents are shuffling around everywhere, flying off the desk when you’re scrambling towards absolutely anything to keep just an ounce of your sanity. Because Nanami was hammering into you in such powerful, pressurized thrusts. Hard enough that you could feel the line of his hip bones along the fat of your ass, the circular smacks of his heavy balls along your thighs. Sure to leave marks that that sinfully short skirt of yours wouldn’t cover. 

“Ken! Ken- oh my god-” 

All you get in response is the sudden slowing of his mean pace, until your heady moans are softening down to mere whimpers. 

It still feels so dizzyingly good this way, having your snug hole stretch limitlessly around his girthy shaft. Knocking so deeply and thoroughly against your womb, clenching your saturated walls down with every graze of the neat tufts of blond at his hilt. 

“What did I say?” His mouth comes down onto yours in a heated clash of teeth and tongue and moans. So many rasping grunts furling from out of Nanami’s throat, spitting into your mouth, “Hafta- be hah- quiet. Or else Higuruma is- gonna- hear-” 

And that hypnotizing push and pull is punctuated by the greedy drag of Nanami’s thumb down your clit, spelling out little patterns. Over and over-

Thud!

“Hah- I don’t-” you’re startling when he hikes up a leg onto the desk, the change in angle making you all but scream out into his ravenous mouth. “Don’t think I even- care anymore ah!” Every one of those syrupy sweet moans falling from your lips have Nanami hammering in even deeper, rattling the desk with his strength. “Just wanna- just want you to-”

You’re gasping at the familiar work of his fingers on your sensitive nub - a flurry of letters all over. K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-

“Say it.” he bites down on your earlobe. “Spell it out f’me.”

“M-m’gonna-”

K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-K-E-N-T-O-

“Scream it out, no need to be embarrassed.”

“Cum!” you’re sobbing. Heaving for air when he doesn’t take even a second to slow down, “M’gonna cum, Ken. M’so f-fuckin’ close.”

His next words are murmured at the crook of your neck, dangerously above your racing pulse. Making you flinch at the sharp teeth indenting over your skin, “Then cum.”

Oh and when you do it’s like something snaps. Because all you know next is that you’re being fucked through such a delicious high. White-hot pleasure having you quivering deeper into Nanami’s hold, dragging out each one of your peaks. Your throat feels raw, head swimming so much that you almost don’t hear-

“Just the way I like you.” Leaving a lingering peck at your collarbone, “All gorgeous and-” At the sensitive underside of your jaw, “-blissed out and-” Before you’re jumping at sharp canines sinking down into the side of your neck. Hard. Possessive. 

It hurts - but it hurts so good that you don’t even register the way Nanami’s eyes flit to the door - slightly ajar now. Voice rising in volume when he finishes, “-mine.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - We’ll piss off the neighbors

“Mmpf- S-Sugu…”

“S-S-Sugu-” your beloved boyfriend is just leering, his velvety voice pitched dramatically high. Shoving apart your dangling legs so burningly wide to bully that furiously shuddering hot-pink vibrator even deeper inside your insatiable cunt. 

He’s grinning such a dangerous grin down at you, “Now, why don’t you lemme hear those pretty moans of yours like usual, gorgeous- instead of holding back?”

And all you can do is squirm around mindlessly when he’s feeding your sloppy cunt inch after smooth inch of more of the thin vibrator. Rummaging around your clingy walls so much, “Come on now-” A taunting thumb of his glides along the intensity meter - Setting 1, Setting 2. Before finally resting smugly on Setting 3. Long, dark lashes bat at you, “You’re breaking my heart here!”

“P-please!” you sob out, before immediately worrying your lower lip shut. And Geto notices - of course, he does. The determined smirk on his face turning into something a little colder, a little more predatory. 

“Aww, my poor baby doesn’t wanna speak with me.” he’s goading, leaving your plushy walls stretched full with the blissful girth of the vibrator. Letting you all but cockwarm it while he’s running a rigorous thumb over your puffed-up clit, “Tha’s fine. Whatever my girl wants, she’s gonna- get.” 

Geto’s sharp tongue is running lewd stripes up and down the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the corners of your lips as if he isn’t driving you insane. As if he isn’t driving himself insane. The achy, fat tip of his reddened cock kissing wetly at your glossy folds, weeping hot precum that sticks to your slit, trickling down the buried hilt of the vibrator. Oh, how he knew - had planned out - exactly how he was going to make you scream. 

But for now, he’s only pursing his lips together, letting you babble and whine unfairly to yourself. 

“S’not- not that I hngh!” your entire body jolts when he’s wordlessly increasing the intensity - Setting 4. Nervous eyes flitting down to where Geto’s lengthy cock was sitting prettily across your open legs, throbbing. Waiting. “Jus’ the neighbors- hah- we got another noise complaint, Sugu–”

He still doesn’t budge, still doesn’t say a word. This time his fingers are toying your finger even sloppier. Tweaking and circles lazily along the sensitive nub, making you all but scream-

“Please- I promise-” you’re bucking your hips up for more more more. Feeling the sopping smack! of his hefty shaft come down on your skin, splattering translucent dredges of his syrupy precum all over your skin. “Promise s’jus’ that Sugu.” Shaky fingers of yours wrap around his long, inky hair - hauling him close to meet your lips, and you could feel the ridges of Geto’s toothy grin when you crack, “Feels so good- too good. N’- jus’ want your cock- hngh! Promise was jus’ trynna be quiet because the walls are th-thin and the-”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart, such a thick intrusion to your already filled-up cunt. Soft, supple walls being contorted around the vibrating toy - and Geto’s addition of his thick, weepy tip. 

“Say please, then.”

You’re so completely and utterly fucked out that you barely even hear him at first - body moving before your mind when your lips sag open. Jumbling out a mess of, “P-please.”

“Hmmm…” Geto pretends to think, but he’s still circling open your elastic entrance to fit his needy cock inside. Taking it slow, sensual - making sure your silky sweet walls are rubbing against each and every one of the prominent veins down his middle, the rotund end of his head shoving its way inside. “S’not ‘nough - how about ‘please, Sugu’?”

“Please, Sugu!” Your nails claw their way down his broad, milky shoulders - leaving red, red marks that make him groan. That make his hips jut forward in a solid, thorough thrust, “Please- d-don’t care about the n-noise complaints hah- jus’ wanna be full of all of you.”

Geto doesn’t know if he can move, fuck, he doesn’t even know if he’s breathing. Eyes widening, head thrown back at the slightest feeble clench of your velvety walls desperately trying to accommodate around his cock and the vibrator. 

It takes beat - two, of him grinding in filthy gyrating motions, abs flexing when his slender waist surges forward. All the way until that divot at his tip was branding into your spongy cervix, painful, cum-filled balls sticking thoroughly against your ass. Somehow, he’s managing to roll his eyes, “D-didn’t hafta hah- say that much, gorgeous.”

There’s a sharp flick! 

Setting 5. 

The heady room is instantly filled by both of your moans - so loud. Yours higher-pitched and cracking pathetically at the end, Geto’s throaty, like they were being dragged from his throat against his will. 

Immediately, he bores down at you with a bit lower lip, eyes half-lidded, the corners of his mouth curled up in what almost seems like a smile. “Guess I better quiet down myself- hngh- huh?” he gasps - heaves - tremors of the vibrator rubbing up so deliciously at the underside of his throbbing shaft, jostling with each hastening ram into your gushing cunt. “B-because now that I finally got you to scream out f’me-” 

You’re mewling when his thumb comes up uncharacteristically gently to swipe away your own lips from underneath your teeth - a habit, almost, at this point after you’d gotten a very huffy email about being too disruptive at night. Like right now. “-I don’t wan’ ta hear anythin’ else. And that includes noise complaints - because soon m’gonna move ya to our own house, pretty, don’t ya worry. And there-” Your forehead is branded with a soft kiss, your g-spot with a rough ram. “-you can scream as much as ya want.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please please please.”

Choso couldn’t stop even if he tried - he couldn’t hold back even one of those broken, whiny pleas wrenching from his rosy pink lips. So loud, deep voice pitching up highly at the end every time the weepy divot at the very end of his fat tip reached into the spongy bottom of your pussy. 

“Baby- please, baby–” he drags out your sweet little nickname, two of his sizeable palms coming to splay out on the curve of your hips. Just dragging your gummy cunt down like a cocksleeve, helping you ride him in easy, relentless grinds. “Does it feel good? Tell me- does it- hah-”

His breath hitches with a sudden shudder when your fingernails dig into the side of his pale neck, using the leverage to just ram your cunt down in thorough, hypnotic gyrations.

“Please!” Choso’s gasping, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re jostling slightly precariously on his slender hips when he’s planting two feet flat on the silky sheets to buck up, up up- “Tell me- tell me how it feels, baby.”

Your fingers tighten involuntarily at the sound of his greedy beg, making him let out such a guttural groan. The sound sends shivers running along your spine, all the way down to where he was jackhammering into your ravaged cunt. Thumbing apart your swollen folds to keep them spread enough for him to bully his girthy hilt into. So depraved. Needy. “S-so good, Cho-”

It was an accident - really - you didn’t even mean to let the little compliment slip. But it’s enough for Choso’s eager cock to expand even girthier inside you, all the blood in his body rushing to stretch your elastic walls to their limits. You could feel him everywhere, molding you to the very shape of his cock. 

“Yeah? Oh yeah?” he’s hissing, craning his neck up to mesh your lips together sloppily. Languid, delirious - kiss-bitten lips smacking when they’re sucking on your lolled-out tongue. Fuck, how he missed your voice. “Tell me- ngh! Tell me more, please.”

Oh, but really - your sweet sweet boyfriend was so pretty like this underneath you. Milky skin damp with sweat, his dark eyes dewy with tears and locked on you, mouth parting open in ragged grunts. Your favorite little melody - it made the way you bite your lip stubbornly all the more sweeter. 

There’s another glissading stream of his sweltering hot precum coating your inner walls, sloshing around in a syrupy slow rhythm inside you. “Please-” He’s crying out again after a few more branding smashes into your bulging g-spot  - lips wobbly as if he was on the verge of bawling without your voice. “Wanna hear your sweet moans, y’know? S’my f-favorite song-”

And you swear your hulking boyfriend’s mouth was upturned into such a pretty pout at that very second, soft planes of his hands caressing up and down your bent thighs. You can’t help but hum, making his head feel so lightheaded with that teasing quirk of your lips.

Or maybe it was the way your fingers clamped down tighter around his neck, sure to leave a perfect array of bruises from your splayed-out fingers. Jerking him even closer- “Fine- open that mouth if you love my voice so much.” 

You’re barely even finishing the sentence before his jaw slacks open, tongue darting out - just in time to catch the steady glob of syrupy saliva you spit out. Right onto the middle of his tastebuds, Choso’s immediately slotting his mouth against yours in an even greedier mess of a kiss. 

“Didn’t think you- hngh! like my voice that much, baby.” you’re humming, letting him hurl into a frenzy of powerful mashes into your g-spot. Some missing - drawing long, eager glides of his rounded, thick head along your cervix. “I like yours too, y’know. So much.” Leaving a lingering drag of his jutted-out bottom lip between your teeth, “S’why I ah- hngh- held back- love hearin’ you.”

And oh, every honeyed word of yours goes straight into twitchy cock, pulsing painfully into your mushy walls. Curving upwards so deliciously, Choso’s hold on you tightens - enough to draw blood, you might think, had he not cut his nails just earlier. 

He’s fucking upwards into you so solidly hard - feverish drags of you down his massive length only getting rougher and rougher until he couldn’t-

“Don’t do that, silly girl- mm- can’t live without hearing those cute moans of yours, m’kay?” Big fat tears gloss down his sharp cheeks with how stimulated he was right now, and you could feel the weighty shifting of his balls. So tight they almost felt like they could burst. “So be loud. Be as loud as possible f’me- tell me how it feels, how you ah- want more- a-and-” His fingers now cup your face, leaving all the laborious duty down to his frantic hips. Yet, Choso didn’t mind - anything that let him glide a thumb along your spit-glossed mouth, tugging out your bottom lip from where you were trapping it between your teeth, “-and say my name.”

You do - and it’s just about all you can manage out when you’re leering down to bite on Choso’s sensitive earlobe. Exactly where you knew would make him shiver the most, rutting up animalistically to bounce you up even deeper, “Then cum f’me, Cho.”

And he thinks he will - fuck, at the sound of his name rolling off your saccharine sweet tongue he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. But not before teasing a hard roll of his thumb along your clit, “F-fuck you little- ah! You first, since you’ve been hah- holdin’ out on me. N’ this time-” His glinting eyes narrow, sharp canines bared in such a viciously fucked-out grin that it makes you clamp down - hard, “-you’re gonna be the one hngh- crying out, baby–”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - CHATTERBOX!

Now, usually when Sukuna had you all splayed out like this - your trembly thighs balanced on either side of his head, puffy pussy lips so sopping wet it made his mouth water - he knew you’d let out a few pretty noises. 

A mewl when his hot tongue laps up the syrupy juices sopping from either side of your slit, a moan of his name when all he does is card the very edge of his soft muscle between them. And finally - finally - his favorite, a whiny beg for, “P-please, Kuna- no more teasing!”

How cute. 

When you miss the first - he doesn’t think much of it, instead too engrossed in thumbing apart your swollen folds, admiring the way your greedy cunt was already glistening and winking down at him so sweetly. Spitting a fat wad of his saliva right on the bullseye of your entrance. When you miss the second, he’s concerned, humming a raspy growl at the back of his throat while wrapping two plump lips around your throbbing clit. 

And when you miss that last one - oh, now you’re gonna get it. 

Smack! 

All give digits of his thick fingers come down hard on your hovering pussy, sliding a glistening syrupy wet sheen down to his wrist. 

“S’this boring to you, woman?” the famed king of cures spits his words with a low, threatening rumble of his sculpted chest. And it’s all you can do to throb, whirling your glassy eyes down at his half-lidded, darkened gaze, “Anything else you’d rather be doing right now?” 

You’re shaking your head deliriously - but that’s not enough for him, of course. 

There’s another oozing little throb from your cunt - rewarded with another branding smack! across your sensitive clit. “Don’ wanna use your big girl words, hm?” Sukuna raises a brow, still holding such dangerous eye contact with you when he hollows out his cheeks, long tongue lolling out to make out with your pussy. “Fine then- let’s let this cute pussy speak for herself, hm?”

There’s only a drawn-out, sloppy squelch ringing through the heady air when he lays his tongue flat across your glossy lips. Just teasing around the very edge of your gushy entrance before the very tip of him dances up, up, up.

“Hngh!” you’re gasping at the feeling of him grazing over your clit in a sultry push and pull - and the sudden wetness of something else swirling around your syrupy sweet hole. “Wh- is that-”

“Shhh, didn’t ya wanna stay quiet, brat?” Sukuna cuts through your words, velvety coo making you just arch down harder to drag your slobbering cunt all across his eager face. And where that mean mouth of his was teasing you, his other - larger - tongue on his stomach was picking up wherever left off. More, even. “So shut up and let this pussy talk, why don’t ya?”

Ah, it was impossible to escape him. Two big beefy hands were steadied firmly around your quaking thighs, hauling you right onto his swallowing mouth, grinding you against his jaw like his favorite meal. You’re being bounced, almost on top of him - his other tongue driving you insane. 

Reaching all the spots you could’ve never even imagined. Arching into you almost as deftly as his cocks, bullying past your puffy lips and into every bulbous areas of your sensitive spots. Fucking you so thoroughly-

“Hey-” There’s another reminder - one of Sukuna’s free hands planting a solid smack onto the very bulge of your elastic walls around his tongue. “Think she said she’s getting close- Almost didn’t hngh- catch it ‘cause you’re being a bit too hah-” He’s craning his thick neck back in for a messy kiss against your clit. “-loud-” Again. And again and again- plump smirk glittered with all your sweet sweet juices. “-dontcha think?” Smack! You’re whining in response, drunken hips pushing down as if to shut him up, “S’like you want to hngh- moan f’me. If you wanna then why are ya being so- fuckin’- stubborn.”

And fuck, you were so far gone that Sukuna almost didn’t expect a response. Half-lidded gaze locked on the trickle of drool slobbering down your slack mouth, eyes bleary, soft whimpers barely even audible over the sinful squelches! from down below. You were so loud, so drippingly wet in each one of your noises that it has him running his free palm over the outline of his aching cocks. 

“B-because-” your wobbly voice makes his fat tips just gush out in thick ribbons of precum, seeping through the fabric of his decadent yukata and onto his fondling palm. “Felt embarrassing- the position a-and hah! got nervous I’d be too whiny or somethin’, Kuna…”

“That so?” Sukuna simpers, voice a little more silky soft than before. And the gentle smack! on your cunt reads as more fond than punishing, “Stupid brat- ya think I’d be like this if I didn’t like your pretty noises?” As if to prove his point, the two hands on your body ride you harder down his mouth. Sloppier. More depraved. “Nervous for what- s’jus’ me, y’know?” Tonguing back teasingly over your glossy clit, his eyes just bore into yours. Baritone vibrato pulsing down your achy pussy, “And I love every lil’ thing you do, my girl.”

His guttural moans are still echoing from the very base of your cunt when you cum - so hard. Violent, even, that Sukuna has to wrap his strong arms around you to keep you from escaping. It’s all your poor pussy can take. Waves of pleasure taking you away. Gushing and gushing so hard-

“Sh-shiiiit-” Sukuna utters - and it’s only then that you realize just how much you’d cum, quivering hole letting out bursts of your syrupy sweet slick. Just coating the entire lower half of his face, his cheekbones, down to his pecs in everything you’d squirted.

And while his lower tongue still laps at your honeyed juices, letting each bead slide down the muscle. He licks his lips with a sigh, “Let’s ask this gorgeous cunt if she can do that on my cocks now, too, hm? N’ this time- ya better scream f’me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up.

“Sweetheart…”

“Satoru.”

“No-” 

Maybe it was the way your sorry boyfriend was just aching to hear your sweet sweet voice moan around his name, maybe it was the way he’d been spending hours already groveling and worshiping your body. Or maybe it was the way your clingy walls just pulsed all around his weepy cock, squelching in a way that makes him salivate. 

“I told you, my girl–” he soothes out in an almost-whiny tone. Pressing an overly-wet peck at your forehead, your nose, on either side of that scolding pout on your glossed-up lips. “I’m- sorry- I’ll listen to whatever hah- gossip about your favorite show next time just please-”

Two rough hands rest at the globes of your ass, purposefully jostling your fucked-out body to face him - he wasn’t letting you escape any time soon. 

There’s the slow, lingering squelch of Gojo rolling his hips forwards in such a dizzying tandem. Shoving you further and further up those expensive silken sheets at the hotel suite he’d booked for tonight - all for his little apology. 

“I s-see that lil’ smile-” he’s grunting, forcing two fingers around your face to look right into his greedy gaze. “Aww, come on- wontcha forgive me? M’begging here- begging.” And when you’re still keeping your mouth stubbornly shut, he’s throwing your limp legs over his broad shoulders. Running a syrupy slow circle over your neglected clit, “-promise I won’t fall asleep next time ya hah- t-talk my ear off.”

You have to admit that every saturated glide of his throbbingly fat tip has your jaw slacking further and further. Honeyed moans just bursting behind your lips, he’s stretching you out so sinfully. 

And, yet, it was so fun to see the strongest all broken down like this - eyes drooping almost closed, pouty lips with a glistening sheen of spit, little whimpers sounding at the back of Gojo’s throat every time he’s knocking right into your bulged-out g-spot. It drove him absolutely insane to see you purposefully hold back your pretty moans. 

“No no no no no-” he’s frantically prying away the knuckles you’re biting down deliriously on, trying to ease out those soft little whimpers and mewls. “My stubborn girl.” Pecking lingeringly at your lips, “Won’t you just scream- f’me-”

With a singular, jutting slam! of his hard hips against yours, you’re just keening - because Gojo was just crashing angrily against your poor g-spot. No longer teasing grazes and glides along your soppingly wet walls, just daring you to beg for more as you always did. 

No, he was pressing into your g-spot with ferocious power, muscles rippling across his hulking body when he’s sliding his fat cock back, back, back- Only to reel all the way forwards, the very curve of his globular head curving thoroughly against your sweetly sensitive spots. Again. and again. And again and again-

“Ah!” you’re scrambling up onto your elbows, connecting your forehead with his own. “S’too-”

You didn’t know what you were going to say - to have him beg more- to have yourself beg for more? But whatever it was clings to your heavy tongue when you’re raising your head up to meet your boyfriend’s. 

Because oh you knew that flushed, blank expression on his face, the slight crinkle of lightning at his eyes. This fucker-

“Whoops.” Gojo’s grinning, not a drop of regret in his words. “Guess I must’ve hngh- accidentally used six eyes when I-” Another nudge of his rotund head against your g-spot, only picking up in pace. Only plugging you full of his deep, grinding inches - fucking you so thoroughly into the mattress that you could hear the bedframe creaking in protest, your own cunt squelching ravagedly. “-hah- fuck this cute pussy. But hey…” He leans his face even closer, that infuriating curl of his lips only growing, “-I don’t hear ya complainin’ now, do I, sweetheart?” 

“Especially when m’ruining you right-” Splaying out all five of his long, pale fingers across your stomach - drawing an invisible line where he was branding the imprint of the very top of his length into the bottom of your pussy. “-here?”

Fuck, he had you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Y-you’re so-” you’re managing to gasp, eyes narrowing as he leans in even mockingly closer. But you can’t hide the slutty bliss in your tone, the way you tug and tease his soft, snow strands. “-so infuriating, y’know. I shouldn’t even hah- be lettin’ you off the hook this easily.” 

He’s moaning twofold, like the sound of your voice electrifies him. Hefty shaft twitching with each piston, painfully tight balls just clenching so painfully. “Yeah- hahah- yeah, isn’t it because you love me?”

The entirety of his body shivers when you lock your legs tightly, bowing his body even closer to stick to yours. “It’s because-” you purr, batting your lashes so sultry. Spitting against his lips, “-you’re such a pain in the ass, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo doesn’t have the time to be embarrassed. All he can really think about is the syrupy slow slosh of his seed painting inside your gummy walls, shooting out in thick dredges. 

You giggle, eyeing down at the puddle of cum and saturated slick oozing down your thighs. Leaking out of your weepy slit, “Heh…for someone that wanted me to hngh- s-speak up so much, you sure are weak, Toru.”

The second roll of his nickname on your tongue is enough for Gojo to be gushing out another wave of potent cum into your snug channel. Hissing, he’s swiping at the creamy ring forming around his hilt, pooling the mess on the large pads of his fingers before-

“Maybe s’better when you-” Bullying them between the seam of your mouth, he’s swirling around your hot tongue. “-don’t speak.” Your answering glare is enough, “J-just kidding!”

A/N. If y’all need me I’ll be in my prayer circle manifesting for a Gojo comeback…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[satoruxx]

boyfriend toji asks you to workout with him all the time, but not in the way you’re thinking. you’re his incentive, a little prize for working so hard.

so of course he cages you underneath him as he does push ups, claiming a victory kiss each time he lowers himself to the ground. honestly the way you laugh and giggle is far more satisfying than the actual workout part of it, his lips quirking into a half smile each time he pushes back up.

“you’re so lame,” you laugh, patting his flexing bicep and he rolls his eyes.

“what’s wrong with havin’ a prize? i’m workin’ so hard,” he stresses the last word with an over exaggerated sigh.

“yeah right like this isn’t the easiest possible thing for you—”

a heavy kiss—his favorite way of shutting you up. he pulls back, expression going smug at your dazed reaction.

“you sure do talk a lot for someone who’s enjoying it.” he quips.

and you do enjoy it—honestly you’d take any excuse to steal affection from the hulking wolf of a man that is your boyfriend, especially when he’s always so willing to give it.

some days he’ll switch it up and ask you to get on his back as he does his push ups, because god knows he’s strong and he can handle you so easily.

and he likes the way you loop your arms around his neck, likes the way you squeal as he playfully tries to bite your fingers when they get too close to his face.

“i think i’ll just stay up here,” you comment from atop his back, and toji can hear your smile.

“oh yeah?” he grunts as he lowers himself to the ground.

“mhm.” your fingers drum over his back. “you look pretty good like this. i can boss you around and everything.”

“hah—” an evil smirk, even as sweat drips down his temple. “watch your mouth, kid. don’t push your luck.”

you laugh, he grins. somehow you just make the whole process that much more fun for him.

toji is selfish too. bad enough that he has you trapped either under him or on top of him as he does push ups for as long as he can. but once he’s done and you’re about to go do your own work he’s grabbing your wrist with that trademark smirk going, “hey i’m not done yet.”

and then you find yourself holding his feet down as he casually does sit ups, and of course each time he makes it back up he’s kissing you. you giggle each time, leaning your weight onto your palms to keep his legs steady as you peak over his knees. the sound tickles his ears—infectious.

“aren’t you tired yet?” you call out, tilting your head with a teasing smile. toji pulls himself up, abs flexing as his bulky arms stay put behind his head.

“tired?” he scoffs, lips brushing over yours. he pulls back just slightly, hooded eyes boring into yours. “i got my energy right here.”

he’s ridiculous. selfish and utterly ridiculous. it comes to a point where he refuses to do his exercises if you’re not there, claiming that “it’s no fun workin’ hard if there’s nothin’ to work hard for.”

but obviously half of the time he ends up forgetting about the workout anyway, grabbing at your waist to pull you into his lap as he presses his mouth to yours eagerly—one little prize already managing to distract him.

for someone so strong, toji can be embarrassingly weak when it comes to you.

oh well, no harm done. he knows he can get his exercise in a different way—and you have no problem with that either.

[readwritealldayallnight]

“Believe the briefing’s down that way, LT.” Soap says, walking alongside the Lieutenant as they make their way to meet the rest of the task force, when he notices the older man starts turning down the wrong hallway.

“Small detour.” Ghost replies in his deep Manchester accent, continuing on his way, uncaring whether the Sergeant follows him or not.

“Where we goin’?” The Scot turns to quickly follow him, curiosity piqued, knowing Ghost is nearly always religiously early to briefings. He has however noticed him appearing nearer to the start time recently now that he thinks about it, something that wouldn’t mean anything should it have been anyone else, but with Ghost, these minuscule changes never came without reason.

“Jus’ have to scratch an itch.” Ghost utters, barely glancing sideways to see the bewildered expression on Soap’s face.

It’s not long before Soap recognizes that they’re on their way to passing by the med bay, confusion worsening when he notices that the Lieutenant keeps fidgeting with something in his pocket. Something that’s making a - crinkling noise? Just as they reach the doors, he watches him pull something out- almost doing a double take at the sight.

“What the fuck are ye doin’ with a bunch o’ lollies?” The Scot asks, befuddled.

“Jus’ shut up and watch, Johnny.” Ghost quickly murmurs, pushing through the doors and walking in a confidently past the nurses station without a care, as though he does this every day. Maybe he does-

Soap tentatively follows behind him at a slower pace, unsure of what he’s walking towards exactly, but utterly intrigued nonetheless. As he turns around a corner, he sees Ghost has just walked up to you, one of the bonnie medics he’s seen around.

“Morning.” You smile softly at him, warmth apparent in your gaze towards the tall man. “Was wondering if you were coming or not.”

“Pick a colour.” The Lieutenant practically grunts at you, holding up a handful of colourful lollipops towards you in his large gloved hand, ignoring your teasing.

“Think I’ll do red. Matches my nails.” You say, leaning towards him to reach a hand out and pluck said lolly from his grasp. Both men watch as you remove the wrapper, pink tongue peeking out from your mouth to wet your plush lower lip. Soap feels the wires in his brain click as well as his pants suddenly tighten when he sees how you wrap your lips around the sucker, closing your eyes and letting out a small, satisfied hum as you taste the candy and pull it out with a ‘plop’.

“Thank you, Ghost.” You blink up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to lick at the lollipop this time before sealing it back in the wetness of your mouth, eyes locked with the man before you the whole time.

The first time you met the Lieutenant was while treating him in this very med bay. Already enamoured with you to begin with, the deal had been sealed when you had pulled out a few lollies from your coats pocket, offering them to him. He had come back to see you the next day, his own stash of candy in hand, saying something about how it was only fair that the doctors got sweets every once in a while as well. ‘Every once in a while’ turned out to be every single morning you worked, truly nothing more than an excuse to see you.

And if you looked up at him so sweetly as you licked at the treat, his blood never not rushing down south in the process, well then that was just an added bonus wasn’t it?

Readjusting his tactical pants and licking his own lips, Johnny had never been so grateful to Ghost before.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami wants you to ride his face...

It was no secret that Nanami read books. Any kind of book. But sometimes he would read something not so wholesome…

Laying on the futon of his home office, eyes half lidded, glasses sitting low on his nose. As he reads, his mind wanders to you. His cock growing tighter in his pants, thinking about what it would be like to reciprocate these acts in the bedroom with you. One specific part caught his attention though. His hand absentmindedly wanders down to his hard erection, his mind racing with the thought of you sitting on his face.

A soft knock on his door puts him out of his trance. “What would you like for dinner, Ken?” you ask softly from outside the door. Nanami froze. His face reddening as he shuts the book. Not sure if he should be more embarrassed about what he was reading or what he was imagining. He adjusted himself before walking up to the door himself and opening it. He appreciated how you were always respectful of his personal space and knocked.

“Oh, hi honey…” your face brightens as he opens the door. The sight of your smile filled Nanami with love, but it wasn’t helping his erection. He doesn’t say anything besides wrapping his arms around, bringing you into a tight embrace. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you returned the hug. “Someone feels a little clingy today?” you chuckle, running your hands over his back.

Nanami burrows his face into your hair. Inhaling your sweet scent he adored. His fingers run over the natural curves of your body, as he presses gentle kisses to your cheek. “I apologize, I feel… I need you right now.” Nanami murmurs into your ear, his declaration runs a shiver up your body. The way he was leaning onto you caused you to hold onto his shoulders, exposing your neck to him. He wastes no time in attacking it, placing his “needy” kisses on it.

Nanami had many ways he liked to kiss you. You have his sincere kisses when he wants you to know he's there for you and he loves you. Peck on the cheek and hand kisses in public. But your favorite kind he gives you are the ones that always lead to more. Where he becomes a little more flirty, nipping at your skin, digging his teeth in, hands roaming all over your body. Squishing anything he could get his hands on.

It’s not long before you both stumble into the room, not being able to get your hands and mouths of each other, until Nanami breaks the kiss, his expression now restless, with desire behind those honey-brown eyes. “I have a request…” he clears his throat. You smile at the way he breaks eye contact with you because he’s nervous. “What kind of request?’ you bat your eyelashes at him. Nanami swears he could die then and there if he wasn’t already embarrassed enough. He walks over to the bed, awkwardly laying flat on it.

“You want me to ride you?” you laugh at how he just lays down. Nanami shakes his head. “Sit. On my face. Please.” he stutters out, giving you a quick glance before he breaks eye contact again, leaving you speechless, this wasn’t something you had tried out before. The desire in his eyes told you he was desperate for this. He looked like he was on the verge of getting on his knees and begging you. “We haven’t tried that yet…” you smirk at him, leaning closer to him. “Is that a no?” he looks at you again, eyes urging you to give in.

Nanami couldn’t help himself once you were hovering over his face. He takes in your scent, closing his eyes, his nose tickling your entrance. Your breath hitching as you look for something to hold on too, eventually resting your hands on the headboard in front of you. Nanami’s breath catches in his throat, he could not believe it was actually happening. His hands find purchase on your thighs, groping them like his life depended on it.

“Keep your eyes on me Kento…” You coo as you look down at him. He could moan at just the sound of your voice, he couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense as he begins to worship you with his tongue. Savoring the taste of you, hands roaming all over your hips and ass, devouring your cunt desperately.

The moment you think he is finally satisfied, he’s not. Only pulling you down more on his face, sharp eyes still on you just like you told him. He didn’t want to miss anything. Music to his ears the way you say his name like a spell, your victim being him and only him. The way you cried out when he would tease your clit just right. And the way you grind against his face was all he could ever ask for. He could die a happy man right then and there.

“Fuck…” you whine, your hand coming down to grip his hair, only driving him more insane. His grunts grow louder as the pleasure and pain mix together delectably. His tongue lapping you up with a new found energy, with confidence you didn’t know he could possess. Eager to chase your orgasm so you cream all over his face. His own arousal building up every second you're on his face.

"Oh god Kento… i'm so close,” you continue your ministrations on his face. His fingers tightening around your ass. He gazes up at you with the most sexy bedroom eyes filled with adoration and desperation, his just pleading for one chance to watch you fall apart on and all over his face. To make a mess on him. “Go ahead, sweetheart…” he mumbles against your sopping, sensitive cunt.

A cry of ecstasy echoes the room as your orgasm finally takes over your body, holding onto the headboard again to stabilize yourself. The man under you is still lapping up everything you are willing to give him. You continue to grind yourself on his face, riding out your orgasm. Nanami’s eyes rolling back in complete and utter bliss, your slick coating his chin and cheeks. Waves of pleasure run through your body, your only thought being Nanami. The way he looked under you, making you hot all over again. Intimacy so intense you could burst.

Realization hits you after your orgasm, finally deciding to remove yourself from his face so he wouldn’t suffocate. Nanami gasps for air as you lift off him, a small giggle escaping your lips. His chest heaving with the exertion that just happened. His eyes still glazed over with lust, taking in the sight of you.

“So where did you get this idea from?” you tease him, poking his shoulder.

A dorky smile spreads across his perfect face as he climbs on top of you, meeting you face to face.

“I read about it…”

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[queenpiranhadon]

So, it's basically canon that Pro Heroes come to assist heroes in training at UA, right?

Just imagine the horror the new generation of heroes would face when they realize that their opponent for training that day is none other than the Number Two Pro Hero, Dynamight.

It's a hero team vs villain simulation - a joint practice between both hero course classes - Katsuki basically has free range to destroy the mock city UA had built and the students had to prevent him from doing so, which was really just a waste of money because of the Pro Hero's already destructive tendencies.

He already had to regulate himself for Pro Hero work, so this was really just waving the reg flag in front of the bull.

Needless to say, they all got their asses kicked, all 40 of them. Whether it was due to falling debris or evading explosions, all of them were forced to wave their white flags eventually.

The students weren't so much in shock, they were in awe, of how a Pro Hero could be so powerful and intimidating, and well...badass.

Their main takeaway? Katsuki Bakugou was an impenetrable force to be reckoned with.

Or... at least for a few minutes.

You can imagine the shock on their faces when the grim and serious expression on Dynamight's face melts instantly when he hears a voice speak up behind him.

"Katsuki, if you keep frowning all the time, you're going to get wrinkles."

He turns around, a rare smile stretching across his face as he stares at you, his wife, like you're the only person in the world at that moment, like you're the only one that matters.

"Tch. I don't get wrinkle lines, woman. Yer just seein' things."Despite his slight harsh words, they're softer, somehow, and the happy twinkle in his eyes is unmistakable.

The students gape at each other. The Dynamight, Katsuki Bakugou , in love? The same pro hero that was wreaking havoc and creating carnage in his wake was the same one now staring at his wife with a dopey grin and peppering kisses across your face.

"Katsuki!" You whine, but it looses its credibility as you start to laugh at his antics. "What's gotten into you, huh?" you ask, a little softer, so that only he could hear.

He looks at you, a soft look in his eyes as he kisses you gently and lovingly pulling away to admire your pretty face.

"M'just feeling sentimental I guess... We were probably their age when we started dating huh?" He says, referring to the students.

You snort, recalling the time when Katsuki first asked you out. "Aww...is my baby feeling sentimental? You were a dork back then."

Katsuki looks offended and his grumbles, nipping your jawline in annoyance."Oi. I was not a dork back then. If anything, Izuku was the dork."

You smile teasingly, kissing his nose, effectively shutting your explosive husband up.

"Is that so? Because I recall you had your All Might posters set up in chronological order of his costume eras."

Katsuki's ears turn red and his large hand wraps around the back of your hand, burying your face in his chest.

"Shaddup woman. Yer the one who fell for this dork in the first place."

You laugh, your voice muffled by his chest, but he can still hear you just fine. Looking up at him you smile.

"You may be a dork, but you're my dork."

The students watch is abosolute shock, mouth gaping open as they wonder how the hell you were able to render Katsuki Bakugou to the sappy man they saw in front of them.

A/N: He's so silly I love him 🥰