#the close up makes it feel intimate
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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
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(loosely) that scene from potc... its so Them i think...
#apologies for the low quality scribbles i simply couldn't be fucked!! <3<3<3#and they're a lil funky.... i havent drawn em in a while....#but geez. man. oof. ough#the potential of the pining + Names ouagshashjafkanvfla#THE RITUALS ARE INTRICATE#scribble salad#franklydear#welcome home#ever since finding out how they call each other by last names my brain has been Mush over that#the layers!!! the potential for development!!!#what would the transition to first-name-usage look like#i feel like they're gonna be on first name basis Before they actually refer to each other by their first names#and maybe frank will call him eddie first.... maybe....#leaving eddie to be the one maintaining a sort of 'professional' distance#but in the process making their interactions Way more intimate and emotionally Charged than they would've been otherwise#its about the suspense... about the 'am i allowed to know what your name feels like'....#the 'i want nothing more than to know what my name sounds like in your voice'#receiving your mail and waiting for the time he finally allows that little distance to be closed with one simple syllable#or delivering the mail and waiting for him to open both doors w/ hand & name#both an allowance and a confirmation and an answer and a promise wrapped up in one little word#Im Just Speculating & Rambling at this point#OUGH FRANKLYDEAR <3<3<3<3#i cant wait to watch them really go Through the Horrors while falling in love#bc when nothing is real or certain what else can you cling to but each other#so abnormal about them....#wh has opened my eyes to the inherent romanticism & pain of mail carriers#they will always come to your door but they will also always leave#and the gifts they give you are always from someone Else#all you can hope for are those Moments where your fingers brush as they hand over letters#where the only true words between you are the ones hidden away in ink and belonging to neither of you
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sskk-manifesto · 4 months ago
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Ep 6!!!
#Biggest take away from the episode: @fandom Dazai can't be Atsushi's father figure if he himself says Atsushi's father figure is the–#headmaster check your facts#Second biggest take away from the episode: the worst thing the headmaster transmitted Atsushi ought to be the terrible haircut choices#Mmmmhhh I could spend another whole tag rant to talk about how much I dislike the writing of Lucy in this episode 😭😭😭#But I worry I'll start being perceived as someone who hates women if I do so I won't.#(But let me just say. I really really *really* despite the “what women [alien and mysterious beings] want is hard to understand and–#impossible to decipher and more often than not they will say the exact opposite of what they mean” stereotype.#Like I hate it to an intimate extent.)#I quite like Kyouka's backstory!! I feel like she's the most fleshed out female character with a compelling character arc and personality.#I really like her. Lucy and Atsushi working as make-do parents (very largerly intended. More like siblings who are dating but that sounds–#even worse) was very cute. And I appreciate how the events seemed to set off Atsushi's own reflection on parenthood.#The same doesn't happen in the manga since the chapters are placed in a different order.#Overall this is just an episode that when I was reading the manga for the first time solidified my understanding that me and b/sd have#RADICALLY different views on the world. But now that after three years and having long come to terms with it.#I suppose it's just something that's there.#Ususal notes about the animation just for talks. The lack of budget really shows this episode and in the second half in particular.#It's especially noticeable in backgrounds that are just... Not the stunning backgrounds that usually make b/sd's anime strong point.#So in turn the lack of details comes off as twice as evident as it normally would :/#The whole Atsushi / Tanizaki exchange at the start of the chapter until the headmaster's identity is revealed is completely devoid–#of host which has me just?? What happened here??? A track slowly building up tension is an almost automatic choice I'm just like.#What happened. If it was a deliberate choice it was a very bad one in my humble opinion#On a more positive note I really like whoever drew the characters “background appearence” this episode eheh#(you know‚ the more stylized one when they're not on close up)#And the drawings at the end of the episode daz/atsu twilight scene were good. Kyouka's flashback was also good.#That's it :)#random rambles#Oh yeah rip chapter 39 ss/kk scene ig :///
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hazmatazz · 2 years ago
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yeah we've heard of mike friendzoning will, but can i have more will friendzoning mike?
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chrisbangs · 1 year ago
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its 5:45 am and i just need to get this off my chest but when i see blurry pictures of chan my heart starts fucking racing smtimes like there's a very specific genre of pictures of him that get my head dizzy and my heart racing and it's always when it's kinda blurry and hazy and it makes me feel so many fucking emotions i dont know how to explain but it just drives me fucking insane like there's smth abt it smth that makes it feel so hazy and soft and dizzying in a wonderful way i don't really know how to explain it but it makes me feel sick in the head because i just . i want him
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fangirlfortress · 9 months ago
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Every second remain alive I become more and more convinced that you only way someone could ever stand a chance of successfully romancing me would be to pretend they have zero romantic feelings for me (or even better, genuinely only think of me platonically) and be my close friend for a minimum of two years, and THEN broach the subject of them liking me. Because that's the only way my brain will ever even consider putting this person into the category of romantic partner/possibility.
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fettery-fetterie · 3 months ago
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if i was an artist with budget i'd be able to draw the buildup and all. i am not an artist with budget tho. so 3 panels will do
Kinda suggestive/nsfw tags btw go there with caution
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anyways i think i huave covid
#perceptive little crow#fettered paintbrushes#never thought i'd be able to make a kiss scene this good. it's not spectacular but yesssssssss it's exactly what i wanted#anyhow i'll die and go to hell#depending on how im feeling I'd give you two answers over how this went down#the first one is that peka just was struggling for his life to get the knot done (he's doing a hard one) so he went#'ok maybe if i make out with her I'll be able to hide the fact i can't do this at all'#the second one is that. man. tying someone's tie? having your hands close to their body in an attempt to do something for them?#SPECIALLY what might as well be the love of your life? the one person that you just can't stop looking up to?#man that's hot as fuck#snd he felt it#of course he couldn't describe it (nor that he knows the words anyways) but he felt it deep down#the way im wording this kinda seems like this would've been their first time. like both kissing/making out and#hell maybe even having sex together#which honestly? kinds fits#i guess one of the things about their relationship is the restrain they have#i don't even know why it'd happen yet. i just feel like they wouldn't really like...allow themselves to be intimate. at all#maybe some hugs here and there but never something actually like. deeper#it's just kind of a fun scenario if the bubble finally broke in such an innocuous moment#only because one of the parties felt a little bit more aroused than usual. and decided to act upon it#i guess that'd make it the more painful once they separate bc they literally wouldn't have time to enjoy each other anymore#anyways thoughts thoughts#sorry for being insane over teorija with a suit i think a sleeper agent just activated on me#anywayssss
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dutybcrne · 7 months ago
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Okay, decision made:
He almost primarily uses his Abyssal abilities, and near exclusively in the way a Cryo Abyss Mage/Cryo Herald would, and had relied upon them alone, up until he was given an Anemo Delusion once he'd become of age.
#v; l’innamorato (fatui!kaeya)#hc; kaeya#//Shields and teleporting like a Mage; the rest of his combat style mostly Cryo Herald based#//Or even smth overall v peacock-like I think would suit him well; maybe a fight style reminiscent of She.n of K.FP2 too. LOVE that idea#//Was given a Delusion after his first successful solo mission; after pleading for one so he could be stronger to help the Tsaritsa's goal#//He proved himself quite worthy of it; though not so much to be able to have a seat at the Harbinger table jdfbgfg#//He tends to give off an almost monstrous vibe whenever he's angered; Abyssal-infused cryo and Anemo swirling about him#//I like to think he might eventually get his Cryo Vision proper at some point#//Maybe due to anger over what happened to Signora; manifesting as he'd grown numb in stunned horror; his perfect facade shattering#//Swearing a cruel vengeance upon the Traveler should the opportunity first arrive; even as he does hold affection for them#//Would hate to use the delusion tho. Appreciates the Tsaritsa's grace upon him. However; using it would HURT with his typical abilities#//That; and he'd be reminded of his grudge for the Traveler and his grief over Signora#//Damn that's like a Shig.araki scenario a bit; wait; holy shit. Could work like that; actually. But make it ✨ Yandere ✨#//But yeah; Abyssal ice abilities is his main powerset#//Sidetracking now with ✨ Bonus Hcs ✨#//Might have a bit of an aesthetic like Signora with his eyepatch; likes to remove it before a deathmatch/killing someone#//Says he likes them to 'properly look him in the eyes'; make the kill feel more personal/intimate#//Deffo like to make his kills v up close & personal; jamming an icicle into their heart; or freezing them mid-embrace before pulling away#//So they're left in a stance like they're always reaching for him. Playing up a lover's act to the last moment to keep their expression#//Now that I think of it; him getting a Harbinger promotion would make more sense as him taking Signora's place. But wanting a diff name#//So she can keep her own legacy/part in them; rather than taking it for himself like Arle did#//His outfit...I do like smth remiscient of Sailwind Shadow for him. Crossed with like. Cassim from Aladdin somewhat; maybe. Idk#//Or or maybe Gort.ash's fit from Bg.3; save colored more like Sailwind; and slimmer pants to go with it?#https://64.media.tumblr.com/a91418ea9ac0be44f03e8d8494d6fbfd/f9bb8cfabf66c0a5-d2/s640x960/098025fb2112e76394eff11f69ed59ea818d52e3.pnj#//That one more like I think. Lol; rip mobile users tho mdfjbkdfg#//Do like that one. But idevenk lololol. Do still like the idea of him having an asymmetrical cape#//Or peacock reminiscent tails; for further Sh.en resemblance! For THEATRICS!!! And deffo LOTS of Khaenri'ahn star motifs#//One of his main goals as part of the Fatui is revenge for Khaenri'ah; the part of him stolen by Celestia; that he longs so desperately fo#//Boss fight wise; I like the idea of him having a form that's an unholy amalgam of a Cryo Herald; Foul Legacy; and Aven's boss form
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breitzbachbea · 1 year ago
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I also think I will edit this scene a little bit when morning comes but uhhh kicking biting screaming. why is this so intimate to me.
Michele folded his hands and let them hang in front of his body. “I think I’d like to pray to la Santuzza. Would you like to join me?”
A dark shadow of wariness hushed over O’Connel’s face, but it didn’t stay. “La Santuzza?”
“It’s our nickname for Santa Rosalia. The little saint.” He smiled and O’Connel smiled back, which was more radiant than the whole shrine for a split second. “Shows how close we are. So, as the city’s patron saint, I’d like to pray to her to look after us during this weekend.” He unfolded his hand to hold one out to O’Connel. “So if you want to join me …”
“Is this some sort of ritual?” He asked. “You know … Of your kind?”
“Only if by ‘my kind’ you mean all Sicilians. No, I just thought I’d ask. You can join the others, I’ll be done in a minute or two.”
O’Connel looked back to the rest of their group. He bit his lower lip. He turned back to the reliquary. Finally, his look landed on Michele. “Sure. Is there a special prayer?”
“For the novena, but we don’t have that much time, do we?” He grinned for a second, but O’Connel didn’t return it. “Simply pray to her as you would to any other Saint. I unfortunately could also only teach you Italian prayers.”
“Well, there’d be finally some use for Charlie’s skills at least.” O’Connel sighed and, eyes on the shrine, crossed himself. Michele did the same and went down on his knees.
O’Connel took a moment, but followed his example.
A minute or two were spent in near silence, except for each of them reciting prayers under their breath. Michele kept his eyes lowered.
“Santa Rosalia, pray for us and deliver us from all evil,” he muttered last, eyes closed.
Please take the plague from me. A prayer that had never been granted.
They stood back up in silence and patted the dust from their shins. Once they were done, their eyes met for a moment.
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puppythingpenis · 26 days ago
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Rolling on the ground puppystyle
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melodianaartist · 1 month ago
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Okay i get the Howl‘s moving castle hype now. That’s an amazing movie
#watched it for the first time#i had only seen that pic of fully bird howl before and I was expecting it to be like this dramatic moment#but it’s really not#Sophie shows up kisses him and gets him home#it’s simply brushed aside because if doesn’t matter#Sophie loves him. it’s not a big revelation. she already is sure of herself - of her love#so him beeing at his lowest doesn’t matter. it only matters that he is safely returned home#same with the heart beeing returned to him. it’s not this big act of romantic love or realisation of love#I mean it is an act of love but it’s not Sophie finally shouting I love you and suddenly his heart is returned to him by the power of true#love or whatever you get me? the two of them are very obviously into each other before that too + at peace with it#romantic love is obviously present but it’s not like end all be all for them b/c the familia relations they built with everyone else#is also just as important and stable. if anything true love beeing the end all be all is kinda parodied with the turnip prince + him beeing#instead both Sophie’s curse and Howl’s curse is a lack of self worth#Sophie feels ugly and she trades in her own youth for the sake of everyone else. she turns old and doesn’t even reach out to them for help.#her family is not malicious by any means and they worry about her but they also don’t really fight the distance that behaviour create#not actively anyway. when the mother finds out her lost daughter is back she reunites with her tearfully and is genuinely happy but she is#also dipping quickly again and that’s not weird behaviour.#the family Sophie makes in the moving castle is so very intimate and close in contrast.#and she chooses them for herself. not for anyone else.#as for howl so much about him screams gifted kid burn out to me#or more like beeing gifted + lonely and your gift is so wonderous and magical and it makes you so happy#but you also tie so much of yourself to it. and you get praised for it. you‘re a prodigy..but when using your gift inevitably is hard#and tears at you#your self worth also lessens. and then you realise this system you‘ve been exceeding in is fucked and brings destruction and it encourages#you to become a tool (to the point where other wizards even lose their identities to become weapons for the king)#and as if that isn‘t worse enough that tool is meant to cause destruction#so you run from this system. and you want to use your gift on your own terms and that’s what you do but it still doesn’t fix that self worth#issue and you are free but you are alone and that’s not a place to foster self worth#when really what really helps is someone who isn‘t so indrenchwd in your head and has a new perspective#howls moving castle
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maskedbyghost · 23 days ago
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when simon wakes up in a hospital, the last thing you expect is for him to grab your hand, pull you close, and say, “hey, there you are, love.” his voice is so soft, so sure, it leaves you speechless. you stare at him, half in shock, because this is ghost—simon riley, the one person who’s kept every feeling locked up.
“simon, do you… do you remember anything?” you ask, testing the waters.
he blinks, looking at you with confidence. “of course, i remember. you’re my wife.”
you freeze. his wife? this is new, and you’re not sure where he got the idea, but before you can correct him, johnny walks in, taking one look at the two of you and biting back a grin. he leans in, whispering to you, “maybe just… go with it for now, eh?” he’s got that teasing glint in his eye, and something tells you there’s no harm in humoring simon for a bit, if it can be helpful for his recovery.
so, you go along with it. and to your surprise, simon doesn’t act confused—in fact, he’s more open with you than he’s ever been. suddenly, he’s holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, always looking for you, keeping you close, calling you “love” or “darlin’” in front of everyone. he’s even got that soft smile every time you catch his eye, one that makes it hard to remember this isn’t real.
the team’s amused but supportive, playing along with the whole story. simon keeps asking you little things, like what your favorite meal is, or how you usually spend your days when he’s away, as if filling in gaps in a life he believes you share. you find yourself answering with things that feel so genuine, and the way he listens—focused, attentive—feels more intimate than anything you’ve shared before.
one day, you’re patching up a minor scrape on his hand, and he just watches you, eyes soft, like he’s memorizing every detail. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. it’s so genuine, so open, that for a second, you forget it’s all just part of his memory loss.
then, one night, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, eyes serious. “do you ever think about us?” he asks softly, like he’s trying to get at something just out of reach. “how we’d be if things were… different?”
you’re not sure how to answer because there’s no script for this. “sometimes,” you admit, feeling a pang of something deep and unspoken. and for the first time, you’re almost grateful he can’t remember—because maybe, just maybe, it’s the only reason he’s letting himself be this vulnerable with you.
as the days pass, you start catching little glimpses, small things that make you wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. he catches you watching him once, and instead of asking why, he just gives you this little smile, one that feels like he’s in on the secret. and just when you’re starting to think this is all some kind of twisted dream, he pulls you aside.
“i know i’m supposed to remember,” he whispers, “but i don’t want this to end. not yet.”
it’s in that moment you realize the truth. he’s been aware all along—he’s been pretending just as much as you, holding on to this fragile, temporary illusion because, maybe, he needs it just as much as you do.
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hii!! i'm backkk!! send some requests plsss, byee <333
@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving
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phoneguyobjectum · 3 months ago
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they were right that maintenance IS intimate. Hello
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imaginedisish · 4 months ago
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Lover, You Should've Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Get ready to cry. This is based on a request I received yesterday where the reader gets jealous of Jean. I tried to take this in a different direction just because I feel like this is a popular trope that has been done by many fantastic writers. It's also inspired by "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley. Hope you guys enjoy.
Summary: You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.
Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV (unprotected...pls WRAP IT UP THIS IS FICTION!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, f!reader/afab!reader, telepathic!reader, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan (kinda? yeah.), non-canon compliant (you'll see what I mean...no spoilers), cursing, angst, feelings, implied mutant trauma (kinda a given in X-Men), probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.
Word Count: 4,197 sorry
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Wanting someone you can’t have—it’s that crying in the shower, pulling your legs into your chest, screaming into your pillow kind of heartache. You’ve come to know the feeling intimately. It’s an awful, horrid, stomach-churning kind of pain.
But you want him. Despite all the pain, you want him. Logan Howlett. You can’t seem to keep him off your mind. For the few months you’ve been one of the X-Men, Logan has been a constant. He’s always there—whether it’s to train or just to talk. But you know he’ll never want you. You see the way he looks at Jean. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were oblivious to that sort of thing. But you don’t need to use your telepathy to reach inside his mind for proof—you just know. 
You keep holding on, savoring every moment, every interaction you have with Logan. You sit on the lawn of the mansion with him, watching the sunset. You’ll come down to the living room late at night to find him sitting in front of the T.V. and join him. Sometimes he’ll drape an arm around your shoulder. He’ll draw circles into your side as you drift off. You’ll wake up the next morning back in your bed, Logan having carried you there long after you’ve fallen asleep. 
You’ve decided you’ll take all he’ll give you, even if it means nothing to him—even if it's platonic. 
But tonight, you wish something would come up through the floor and swallow you whole. A void, a black hole maybe. That would do the trick. Disappearing would make everything so much easier. The second-best thing to disappearing is sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, alone, with a pint of ice cream. You decide to practice your powers, moving the silver spoon with your mind, concentrating as you dig the spoon into the top of the pint and into your mouth. 
You hear a warm, familiar chuckle from the doorway as the spoon lands on your tongue. You look up, and there’s Logan, arms tucked across his chest. “Wish I could do that.”
You can’t help but smile around the spoon as he strides over to you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. You slide the spoon out of your mouth and rest it on the napkin next to the ice cream. “Hey,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
His shoulder brushes against yours. He’s so close it hurts. You try to shove the pain down and enjoy the moment. 
“Was hoping I’d run into you down here. Thought maybe you’d be in bed already,” Logan says, his eyes locked on yours. 
You shake your head, doing your best to keep that fake smile plastered on your face. “Couldn’t sleep.” 
You can see the sudden concern appear on his face. “Everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Fuck, you think to yourself. Maybe he’s catching on. 
“Yeah,” you murmur, looking down at the ice cream. “Just still having a hard time adjusting.” It wasn’t a lie. You had always struggled with your powers, longing to hide, to shove them down. Your whole life, you were either a freak or something to be used—whatever was most convenient in the moment. The struggle between visibility and forcing yourself to be “normal” was an impossible battle. You were no stranger to being taken advantage of or being experimented on.
Logan was the first person who understood that—understood you. He made you feel seen in a way that no one ever had. It’s part of the reason you’ve fallen so hard for him. 
His hand is suddenly on your back, yanking you from your thoughts and back to reality. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Whatever you need, anything.” 
Anything. You wish he really meant it. 
“Thanks, Lo.” You smile up at him, letting your eyes linger on his lips for just a second before looking back down at the ice cream. “Want some?” You ask, nodding at the pint. 
“Only if you feed it to me the way you did when I walked in.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he taps the spoon. You side-eye him incredulously. “I mean it. Wanna see you do it again.” There’s a husk in his voice, a shift in his timber that sends a chill down your spine. You try not to think about it too much as you pick up the spoon with your mind. 
You guide the spoon inside the pint, scraping the top, and lifting it up towards Logan’s mouth. He opens wide as you lead the spoon inside, his tongue hitting the bottom as his lips close around it. The implications of the moment don’t dawn on you until he’s grabbing the spoon with his hands and sucking on the metal. There’s something undeniably suggestive about this. 
Heat rises to your chest as you replay the image of him taking the spoon into his mouth in your mind. It’s so intimate, so domestic. And, certainly, something else—something that makes you tick, that makes that familiar fire grow deep within your belly. 
But—like always—the moment doesn’t last long. You wince, feeling someone itching against your thoughts, prodding at your mental shields, begging to be let in. Suddenly, there’s another voice in your mind. 
I gotta try that myself. You flinch at the sound, taking the spoon from Logan’s hand and shooting it across the room to where you sense the person’s presence. You turn around, and there’s Jean, resisting the spoon’s trajectory with her mind. 
It's almost pressing into her skull, shaking in mid-air, ready to break her skin. You gasp and drop the spoon, embarrassed to have registered her as a threat. “I’m so sorry,” you say, watching as Jean crouches down and picks up the spoon. “I didn’t know that was you in there, I swear.”
You expect Logan to stand from the chair and rush over to Jean, but he stays next to you, glued to your side, the palm of his hand resting gently on your back. “Jean.” His voice is firm, almost cold and harsh. “What was that?” You’re surprised at how curt he’s being with her, surprised he remembered that you’re sensitive to people probing around your mind, even if it’s friendly. 
Jean mutters a curse. “I was just communicating with her. I didn’t think she’d—” 
Logan stands, his hand still steady at your back. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” His voice is louder now, heavier. 
She whispers an apology, setting the spoon on the counter and walking towards the doorway. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered given your…” she pauses, searching for the word, “past…that it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She takes another tentative step. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and she slips out. 
Logan settles back into the stool next to you. You’re shocked that he’s still here, that he hasn’t run away yet. You can hear him breathe—in and out—gentle, long breaths. You close your eyes and listen, the sound calming you down. You’re still expecting him to leave, to walk away, but he doesn’t. 
“You okay?” He asks, your eyes fluttering open, his voice hanging in the air. His head is tilted to the side, worry painted across his face. 
“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you stutter, your voice cracking. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go check on her if you want.” You nod towards the doorway—to wherever Jean wandered off to. 
“And why would I do that?” Is all he says in return, furrowing his brows. 
You put on that fake smile again. “I almost jammed a spoon into her forehead because she spoke to me telepathically.” You shake your head. “Don’t really think my reaction was particularly friendly—or something that good people do.” You break eye contact with Logan and look to the other side of the kitchen. “Plus, you two are…close.”
“Hey.” His voice is firm again, but gentle this time, reassuring. His hand slips across your back and rests on your waist. You’re so shocked by the contact that you almost miss what he says. “First of all, she knows better. Charles warned her about what you’ve been through. And second…” He trails off, smirking at you. “I’d rather be with you.”
Oh? Oh. He’d rather be with you. 
“I just thought, you know, you and Jean were…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence and too nervous to hear him say the words you’ve been dreading most. 
He shakes his head, that smirk still spread across his lips. “No, it’s not Jean I want. Never has been.” 
Your breathing becomes shaky—your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “If it’s not Jean, then—” 
Logan cuts you off as he suddenly moves. His arm lifts from your waist as he stands, turning your stool around so your back is against the cold countertop. He’s gripping the arms of the stool now, caging you in. Your mind is hazy—you can’t concentrate with him this close. 
“You think I do the shit I do with you with Jean too, hm?” He’s towering over you, his head cocking to the side, his voice self-assured and confident. “Think I’m watching movies and sunsets with her? Carrying her to bed, too?” 
You’re overwhelmed, dizzied by his words, his size, him. “Just thought that—”
“Just thought what?” He cuts you off again. “That I didn’t want you, darlin’?” He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, one hand moving from the counter to your hip. “Wanted you this whole time,” he huffs, goosebumps rising on your arms. “Only you.” He presses a kiss to your ear, and then just underneath your jaw. 
“Logan,” you whisper. “W-want you too,” you choke out, your hands coming up and around his back. “B-but someone’s gonna walk in on us.” 
He’s ignoring you, biting your pulse point lightly and licking the pain away. “Let them,” he husks, refusing to stop. You instinctively bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging in slightly. He groans at the contact, his chest heaving against yours. 
“One of the kids is catch us in here, or somebody else,” you mutter, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “W-we should—”
“Go to my room.” He finishes your thought. 
“Please.” 
And then he’s picking you up from the chair, his hands under your thighs, grabbing your ass. You wrap your legs around his waist as he prowls out of the kitchen. He looks both ways as he crosses the hallway and makes his way to the stairs. There’s no one in sight. He carries you up the steps and down the hall to his room, practically breaking down the door as he swings it open and slams it shut. 
And then he’s laying you down on his bed, crawling over you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanted you in here sooner,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours. “Hoped you’d come over one night. You should’ve.”
His lips crash down onto yours before you can find the words to say. He’s starving for you, swallowing your moans as his hands slip under your shirt, his nails digging lightly into your sides. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps against your lips. Everything is desperate and rushed, hands pawing at bare skin in the dim light of his room. 
Logan tugs on the hem of your shirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the side as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He curses under his breath, looking you up and down. 
“Logan,” you whine, arching your back. You need his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything. 
“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, his fingers hooking inside the waistband of your shorts. “Gonna take care of you.” He yanks them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties. 
He pulls off his own shirt, tossing it carelessly, letting it get lost on the floor. He settles back down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand finds your waist. He slides up to the bottom of your bra, teasingly pulling on the fabric before slipping his hand behind your back—skillfully unclasping the bra with one easy motion. You arch your back again, the bra straps sliding down your arms as Logan tosses the bra to the floor, too. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect.” He captures your lips in another kiss as his thumb ghosts over your nipples, just barely giving you the relief you need before pinching softly. The pressure feels so good, so right, but it’s not enough. 
He draws circles around your nipples with his thumb, the sensation feeding the aching fire between your legs. Your hips involuntarily lift off the mattress, meeting his. “Need me that bad, huh?” He is always so incredibly cocky, even now—especially now. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and what to do next. 
Logan grinds his erection into your core. You can feel how big he is, the weight of him heavy against your cunt even in his jeans. You clench around nothing, whining his name as his strained cock teases your panty-clad pussy. “You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”
“Y-yes,” you stutter, biting your lips as his hand leaves your tits and sweeps down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He slides his fingers down just a bit more, feeling where your arousal seeps through your panties. 
“Already soaking for me, sweetheart.” The bassy timber of his voice stokes that flame deep within your belly. Without warning, he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanking them down your legs. “Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kisses your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travels to where you need him most. 
There’s something depraved about the way he’s crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spreads your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settles in between them. 
He pauses, looking at you under hooded eyes. You can see the want—no, the need—in the way his muscles flex and how he works his jaw. But he’s hesitating, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your eyes searching his for his next move. 
He finally presses a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbles against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You throw your head back, whimpering his name as he laps again and again. He’s starving, and you’re the only thing that can satiate his hunger. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard. 
Your hips lift off the mattress and Logan quickly moves to hold them down. “You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” he grunts against you, the vibration of his voice going straight to your core. 
His free hand slips up the inside of your thighs, teasingly climbing higher and higher, his nails skimming your flesh. He’s toying with you, leading you on, taking his time. His fingers finally ghost over your folds, exploring you, stroking up and down as his tongue laps at your cunt. 
Logan prods your entrance with two fingers, slipping in just a bit, testing the waters. “Please,” you beg, pushing your hips down in an attempt to sink his fingers deeper into you. He stops you, his hand still firmly holding your hips down, refusing to give you the release you’re dying for. 
“So fucking impatient, aren’t you?” He tuts. And then he’s shoving two fingers all the way inside you, down to his knuckles. “Such a pretty pussy.”
“F-fuck!” You cry out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets a relentless pace. He’s drinking you in, sucking roughly, his long fingers pumping in and out with a vengeance. 
“’This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks condescendingly in between laps. You’re too fucked out to form a sentence, your legs trembling underneath him. You know he’s loving this—loving that you’re a wet, needy, whimpering mess. 
Your walls squeeze around his fingers, your swollen clit throbbing as he laps at you. You’re so close already. “Lo,” you call out, fisting the sheets of his bed. Everything in here smells like him: pine and mint and musk and tobacco and that thing that’s uniquely Logan. It’s all so overwhelming and overstimulating. You’re ready to fall apart, to melt into nothingness. “S-so close.”
He squeezes your hip. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion he does so well. Your walls flutter again. “That’s it,” he coos. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He licks harder, faster. “Let go for me, darlin’.” 
He pushes you over the edge, pleasure warming your belly as you let go. It washes over you in waves, his fingers still pumping in and out, his tongue still hanging on to the taste of you. You ride it out, his thumb brushing your hip, coaxing you through it. His fingers slip out of your cunt, but his head is still buried between your legs. You shudder as he licks long, slow stripes through your folds. 
“So fucking sweet,” he growls, still starving for more. “Not done with you yet.”
Fuck. 
But you need more—need his cock deep inside you, pounding into you. You need him in front of you, his lips on yours. 
“Logan,” you whine, your voice shaky and trembling just like the rest of your body. He finally lifts his head, his hair a disheveled mess, your juices glistening on his lips and his chin. The sight of him makes your breath hitch in your throat. There’s a feral, needy look in his eyes. He’s starving for more of you, and you’re not quite sure he’ll ever get enough. 
But he can see your chest heaving and the desire in your own eyes. He knows what you need—he always does. He sits up on his knees, staring at you while he slowly unbuckles his belt. The tension is palpable, the clinking of his belt against the hardwood floors cutting through it like a hot knife—the only sounds the melding of your quick breaths and the shuffling of bed sheets as Logan finally comes up to meet you. 
He's balancing on his forearm as he unbuttons his jeans, undoing the zipper and shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs. You swallow at the sight of his cock springing against his stomach. You had felt his erection before, but he is far bigger than you ever anticipated. 
With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself in between your thighs. You instinctually spread your legs for him, inviting him in. He nudges against your entrance, taking his time. 
His forehead meets yours, your chests flush against each other’s, panting in sync. You’re both waiting with bated breath, his tip slipping inside, but stopping short before going any farther. 
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Thought I’d never have you,” he confesses, pushing his tip a bit further in. “Would’ve given up anything for this. Would’ve waited forever.”
“You don’t have to,” you murmur.  “I’m right here. I’m yours.” 
“Mine?”
“All yours.”
And then he’s pushing deep inside you, down to the hilt, bottoming out. He swallows your moans with a kiss, biting your lip, drawing blood, and licking it away. “All fucking mine.” He stays buried inside you, unmoving. “Wanna stay inside you forever, sweetheart,” he growls, your heart bursting at the thought.
He pulls himself all the way out and all the way back in, stretching you out, working you open. You look down in between your bodies and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. “Feels s-so fucking good,” you stammer, already drunk off him. 
“Like watching me fuck into you?” Logan husks, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 
“Y-yes,” you whimper. His muscles flex as he ruts into you. He takes the hand that was on his cock and brings it in between your bodies, his fingertips quickly finding your clit and giving it a soft pinch. Your back arches off the mattress at the sensation. 
Logan hums at your reaction. “So sensitive,” he groans. “Taking me so good, sweetheart.” You can feel him losing control as he rams into you, his thrusts growing harder with each pump of his cock. He’s drawing firm, fast circles into your core. 
It’s all too much, him, his cock, his fingers. Your skin is on fire, your nipples pushing against his chest—the friction absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. 
“Know you’re close, darlin’,” Logan moans in between kisses. “Can feel you squeezing me.” 
You hum in response, but Logan refuses to let up. His pace is beyond brutal, pounding into you over and over again, his fingers working your clit in tandem. Your muscles contract around him, gripping tightly. 
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking warm.” His praises are more than you can handle. “You gonna come on my cock, just like this?” 
“Yes, fuck, Logan!” You’re a babbling mess, his name the only thing on your mind, on your lips, hanging in the air like it’s a sacred prayer. Everything is him, and it always has been. In this moment and in every other, he is your end and your beginning. 
 “Let go for me, sweetheart. Know you can do it for me.” His deep voice is all you need to walk you through it. You’re breaking down, coming on his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, spreading like an untamable fire. 
He’s stroking your clit long after you’ve come, still snapping his hips into yours, still working up towards his own orgasm. His pace is getting sloppier, but he shows no signs of stopping. You can feel yourself growing overstimulated, his cock rubbing against your walls, his fingers circling your clit. “S’too much,” you whine, your nails digging into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. 
Logan presses himself closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’ve got one more in you, sweetheart,” he coaxes, not letting up. “Know you can take it.”
You’re breathless, clinging onto him helplessly. You’re clamping down on him again, taking him deeper than you did before. He’s hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. “Lo,” you whimper. “I’m gonna—”
“I know, darlin’,” he grunts. You can feel him throbbing inside you. “Let it happen, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” 
The tension is snapping again, breaking in half as he pulls another orgasm from you. You shudder as you come for a third time, overstimulated and beyond fucked out. You know he’s close behind, his hips slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours. He slips his hand away from your clit and around your back, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s so intimate, so perfect. 
“F-fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you want me to—”
You hold him closer. “Stay,” you whisper. “Want you inside. Wanna feel you come.”
“Oh fuck,” he mutters, plunging deep inside you, his muscles tensing as he fills you up, your name on his lips. His thrusts slow, pumping in and out every now and then before finally stopping. 
You stay like this for a few minutes, his arm keeping you tight against his chest, his cock still buried inside you and your foreheads still pressed together. 
He brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 
He shakes his head. “I always wanted you,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “The whole time. It was only ever you.” 
His words could make you cry. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped to hear. You smile, his hand finding its way to the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly stroking your sensitive skin. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it,” you breathe, your voice laden with sleepiness. “I never knew. Thought you’d never want me.”
“I’ll always want you.” His cock finally slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty. His legs tangle with yours, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Would’ve waited forever for you, darlin’.”
“Forever?”
“Longer.”
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screampied · 4 months ago
Text
❛ NEVER WANNA LOSE ME. ❜ t. fushiguro
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☆ sum. for the hell of it, you let your roommate toji hit just once and he’s never been the same. what starts as a usual lazy smoke sesh turns into him wanting more than just to get high—he wants you.
wc. 6.4k
warnings. fem! reader, college au, toji & reader are in early twenties, vırgin toji, pússy drunk toji, mentions of pre-substance consumption, impact play, fıngering, squırting, praise, he finishes quick, dry humping, ōral (f! receiving), size kink, talking him through it, spıt.
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he’s never had a girl like you in his life.
with toji—he doesn’t do women. well he does, but not in that literal sense. he puts up a front whenever around his boys. little do they know he doesn’t know the first thing about a woman. he has little to no game, he’s a fake. a loser. but all of that changes until he meets you. you’re his roommate and the only person he can really stand. to toji, you were someone he could ramble to, someone to get high with and make fun of cheesy romcoms together. . like now.
“you always insist we watch this shit,” he huffs, leaned back against the couch. he’s got his legs raised over the sofa as he bores his stoic eyes into the screen. squinting at the cheesy subtitles on display, he takes another puff. “dunno why y’er so scared of watchin’ alien. now that’s a movie.”
“toji that’s boring,” you murmur, snuggling up close to him. he never really minded, it was always like this. he’s got a broad arm thrown over the back edge of the sofa as you’re leaned up against him. the both of you were blitzed, feeling a wave of euphoria surge through the both of you. the closer you got to him, the more you smelled him. god, that cologne—he practically pours it all over his body and it’s always so strong. toji could feel your head rubbing up against his wrinkled tank top before he glances down at you. “. . . your taste in movies suck.”
as you trail off your words, it’s a deadly awkward pause between the two of you as he just stares deep into your eyes. you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden, why he’s just got that blank expression. but toji cups your chin, using a bare thumb to swipe against the inner crevice of your mouth. “tch. messy girl.”
oh.
you blink thrice once his thumb swiftly moves against the corner of your lip. it’s a subtle moment that’s seems way more intimate than it should of.
the dorm room grows substantially quiet and the only sounds that could be heard were the main characters of the movies talking in the background.
you never leave your locked gaze on toji and he gently rubs a finger near your lip. “you had leftover ice cream on your lip,” he utters, and you see his eyes flicker toward your mouth. so pretty, he thinks to himself. the way they curve and twist as you switch facial expressions. he’s sitting up now, taking in your face and could almost feel you lean into his touch. almost. a lump gets caught in the throat before he clears his throat, glancing away. “i— uh, sorry. that was stupid.”
you look at toji and his body language is different from how it usually was. he’s got a downcast pout, slouching back against the leather made sofa. cute, he’s blushing. you notice the way both temples of his cheeks burn and heat up and you raise a brow, scooting up close toward him. “it wasn’t stupid,” you utter, grabbing the remote and turning it on mute. with his burly arms crossed, he slowly stares back at you with a perplexed look. “toji. do you wanna kiss me?”
“what?” he blurts out a bit louder than he intended. could you read his mind?
he felt himself get hotter and not just his cheeks.
toji looks into your eyes, biting his tongue once he realizes you probably caught him staring at your glossy plump lips. he did want to kiss you. he wanted to kiss you so bad—he just didn’t know how to initiate, he didn’t want to just flat out kiss you or anything. darkened brows of his tweak into a relaxed furrow before he sighs. “y- yeah,” he gruffly murmurs, the steady pulses of his heartbeat growing faster.
“you could have said so,” you tease, leaning up close and wrapping your arms around him. he’s glancing at you, both of you had half-lidded eyes, pupils dilating full of sparkles and lust. toji awkwardly sets his hands aside once you straddle yourself on his lap. the thin fabric of his basketball shorts tickle against the undersides of your thighs before you plop down.
it’s so quiet, you scrape a thumb behind his soft undercut before leaning up close.
toji’s mind was going crazy. he was about to kiss you. he was about to finally kiss you. but there was just one problem.
he didn’t know how.
just as your lips were on the brink of planting themselves onto his, he whispers against you.
“w- wait.”
you pause, glancing at him. “hm?”
“i— um,” he looks away, that same reddened tint painting over his face once more. it’s so cute, out of the few years on campus you’ve grown to know this guy, you don’t think you’ve seen him in such a state. an embarrassed state. jade green eyes flicker everywhere around the room but towards you and he sighs. “i’ve never . . kissed before.”
a smile marinates against your features as you stroke a thumb near the scar that runs down the right side of his lips. “oh,” you hum, and he almost glares at you but remembers you’re literally sitting on his lap. toji holds back a groan, the addicting friction of your body hovering over him makes him start to imagine lewd things. he couldn’t help it, and the taunting stare you gave him only made things worse. “that’s okay, just follow my lead,” and the two of you lock eyes again. toji gives you a subtle nod before feeling you drag his hands toward your hips. “just hold my hips ‘n close your eyes, it’s okay.”
he doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that he’s stoned out of his mind but you’re just so pretty.
you were feeling the mild after effects too, your eyelids felt heavy the further you leaned into him. toji’s big open palms cling onto your waist as you finally close the distance, pressing your lips onto his.
from first contact, he tastes sweet.
his lashes flutter close as he lets you control, gently moving your tongue against his. it was cute how awkward he was, toji didn’t know what to do. you heard him groan the moment you playfully suck against his tongue. every few seconds, he’d hear the sounds wet smacking coming from each mouth—how a bit of saliva would start to dribble down the side of his lips.
fuck, he tilts his head back, parting his uneven lips a bit further for you.
toji tastes minty, his hands find themselves roaming lower down your body as you teasingly grind more against him. he grunts, feeling you continuously meet against his bricked up friend.
he was hard—you knew that. it was poking at you underneath your shorts. a smile stretches on your lips as you deepen the hot steamy kiss, hearing the faint sounds of teeth clashing. he’s so hot, literally and physically. toji feels like he was sweating bullets when he really wasn’t.
he’s had countless dreams of this, of you.
the two of you would always get high together and chill, binging countless movies until the two of you knocked out. but now, it was different. you were making out with each other. it took you by surprise that he’s never kissed anyone—you sort of thought otherwise, especially with how he acts around other girls. of course, that’s all you really see. but behind closed doors, perhaps your roommate’s more different than you thought.
the passionate kiss accelerates further the moment you feel toji’s big hands creep near your ass. his fingers tug near the protected fabric of your shorts, desperate for them to come off. your repetitive swaying against his lap was damn near torture. he groans, finally pulling away from your lips to watch those glossy strings depart from each mouth.
“fuck,” he grunts hoarsely, his eyes darting back toward your sheeny lips. he’s already had a taste of you and he wanted more.
toji holds you firmly in place before leaning into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss near your collarbone. “i- i want more,” he grouses, the tint in his shorts only growing larger. you felt it, all of it. with the way your hips playfully rubbed against the loose clothing — you were only fueling the fire. toji’s voice got a bit lower with its pitch and it was attractive with how needy was.
like he was desperately craving for this moment to happen.
he really was though.
you could see the look in his eyes - he’s hungry.
call it a little crush or whatever but he’s had his eyes on you for a while. toji was horrible whenever it came to feelings, terrible.
he didn’t think much of it, the two of you were just roommates who’d occasionally get blitzed together every blue moon. unless it was something else.
“it’s okay,” your breath hitch as you feel his soft lips assault near your neck.
he was gentle, coating invisible markings that stick against your skin like glue. your head slowly leans back as he starts to softly suck against your skin, keen edges of teeth tenderly tickling against your exposed flesh.
you were so sweet, it just wasn’t fair.
toji’s hands remain attached to your hips before he makes you lie back. you land backward with a little cute oof, glancing up at him as your back lightly hits against the cushioned furniture. “someone’s getting eager.”
“s- shut up,” he kisses his teeth, taking a good view at your body. so pretty, two words that he’s gonna forever keep repeating to describe you. toji couldn’t believe its taken him this long to get to this point.
truth be told, he was pretty shy. but now that you’re all sprawled and laid back, something ignited in him. he slowly spreads your legs with one hand, using a thumb to tug against the flimsy string of your shorts. you watch him intently, growing quiet — the room only fills up with noises of his soft feral pants. he peeps the little anklet that wraps around your ankle before he starts to pull off your shorts. “m- may i?”
“go ‘head.” you murmur, smiling at how he stops untying your shorts just to hear your permission.
your sweet words telling him to go forward, it’s all he needed to continue. callused fingertips pull down your shorts all the way until he’s met with your laced panties. god, he’s feeling a lump get caught in his throat. the way your panties stick against your thighs, how gorgeous the lace looked decorating against your skin, he couldn’t stop staring. .
toji inches his head down, going between your thighs. his hair - it was unkempt, he outgrew his hair within these past few weeks. it was cute, a few black strands of his reach near his shoulders.
he was really slow,
he’s pacing himself because he wants to savor this moment and your beauty. but to be honest, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. toji brings a awkward kiss toward the center part of your panties, watching you shudder. “mhm,” a low gruff comes out of him before he looks up at you. “was that good?”
“y- yeah, toji,” you swallow thickly, a hand of your own finding its way into his tangled sable tresses. he looks at you, finding your combing fingers digging through his scalp somewhat relaxing. he’s ogling at you like he’s waiting for you to say something else and you giggle. “right, you probably haven’t eaten a girl out either.”
“shut up,” he grimaces, bathing in his own cringe.
it’s almost adorable. it was adorable. he leans into your touch, staring at your slick dribbling pussy. he’s so close, you could almost peep his mouth watering. “just . . tell me what else ‘ta do, please.”
your face softens at his desperation. toji’s bottom lip pokes out a bit and you inhale, ruffling his hair a bit.
“okay, just start slow. ‘s no rush. start near my thighs ‘n give it a few kisses” and right at your words, he begins to give your thighs sweet individual kisses. he’s fast, you almost let off a moan before sitting up. “good, good, like that,” and his eyelashes close, making sure to give everywhere—even the secret secluded crevices of your thighs all types of attention. your skin was lukewarm, and each time it goes against his skin he only wants more. he hears your body fall back, the sofa screeching a wail from the sudden weight. “n- now um, kiss around here.”
toji pauses, watching as you spread yourself open for him with two fingers. with enticed driven eyes, he watches as you play with yourself to show him what to do next. your finger points near a soft pulsing area—your vulva, you wanted him to kiss right there. it’s shiny, drooling down with your own slick and he only imagined what it tasted like.
what you tasted like.
he doesn’t say anything—instead, he lets his mouth do the talking.
toji’s watched more than enough vulgar videos on pussy eating to know which exact methods to do.
but still, this was real life and nothing was exaggerated. your sweet whimpers and moans were very much real. he starts by kissing around and near your vulva - slow sloppy kisses that make your thighs twitch and your toes curl. he then begins to stimulate your clit with his tongue, swirling it around gently and you moan.
“fuuuck. . jus like that toji,” you breathe, digging your teeth into your lip.
he was already a quick learner, despite having no experience with practically anything.
with one trembling finger, you lift up his chin and he leans into your touch once more. “eyes up here baby,”
‘. . baby,’
his dick immediately twitches from that simple pet name. viridescent eyes of pure emerald stare into yours before you push him just a bit closer into your soddened cunt. “flatten out your tongue a bit. ‘s okay to spit on it a little.”
his ears perk up a bit at your words. “spit on it?”
“yeah,” you run a few more fingers in his hair, delving them into his soft scalp. “make it wet.”
“fine,” toji mumbles, and as his tongue’s moving upwards against your slobbering entrance. he gathers a decent wad of saliva before he spits right on your pussy. a slick ‘ptui’ sound slithers from his lips once he does so—you’re already wet but doing so, it gets you even wetter. a bit of cobwebby lustrous strands cling onto his lips as he watches his mess trickle down onto your folds. he groans, watching the cute pulse happen right between your legs.
so sloppy,
he adores the sloshing squelches your pussy makes at the simple gesture. toji’s never tasted anything so sweet before. “ugh, good. like that,” you moan. as you’re praising him, you then start to feel the quiver in your legs quicken. toji stretches his long tongue even further inside of you—pointing his tongue in a certain direction as his head leisurely sways itself side to side. as you’re telling him exactly how to eat you out, he starts to suck. you whine, feeling his pursing lips clamp around your twitching muscle. it’s so good,
his slurps were so nasty and he groans from your noises alone. as he’s eating you out—he can’t help but jerk his hips into the sofa, getting off to your pleasure. panting, you drag his head up by the hair so he could look at you again. “ ‘s okay, toji. y- you can use a finger or two also.”
“ ‘kay,” he grumps, and he feels your eyes boring into him. specially, you were mainly fixating on his hands. his veiny rough looking hands. you found yourself staring at toji’s hands a lot. they were so big, so wide, thick fat fingers. .
maybe you thought about having them wrapped around your neck, shoved down your throat, buried deep inside your-
your short fantasm and lewd thoughts get cut off the second he sinks a single digit inside—his middle finger. you whimper, slumping back against the sofa as his tongue still flicks against your cunt.
“fuuuck,” you chew on your words, your candied whines only grow more elongated as he seeps deeper inside of you. you take his finger in freely, it’s a perfect fit. with a brief ‘pop’ he’s inside and he feels you trying to clamp ‘n squeeze around his finger. toji’s kissing against your cunt again, shaping his crooked lips into ‘o’ before nibbling near your clit. “oh my goddd.” you gasp, feeling the pressure amongst you increase. his tongue was warm—but with the mixture of his finger, you started to feel your thigh haphazardly bounce. he was still lacking in some areas but you didn’t mind teaching him how to improve.
slowly, he brings another finger inside and now your cunt’s trying to squeeze down two of him. your brows curl up in rapture whilst his tongue happily roams all around you. he’s lapping up his saliva, slurping yours, and spitting right back on it all over again.
“so fuckin’ good,” he groans against your damp folds, causing vibrations just from his mouth. hot pants of breath aerate against your skin. you were getting close, your body started to get more and more unsteady. as your back arches, you yank on his hair a bit. “ow,” he looks up at you with a snarl, but he has a sheepish grin. with toji’s thick twin fingers plummeting in and out of you, he bites down near the edge of your pulled to the side panties. “am i doin’ good, princess?”
“y- yeah, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper in a shaky tone, swiftly dragging his head back and forth.
toji’s plump glossed lips smear all around your cunt and you moan. he’s so messy and his chin being smothered with your slick. it’s running down, and he’s quite literally drowning in pussy.
your pussy.
the points of his ears twitch at your words though once he comes to the sheer realization—you were about to finish. as you’re getting closer, your grip against his hair tightens. “suck harder toji, ‘s okay. use your tongue, baby.”
with open ears and a open mouth, he listens, closing his eyes once more as his swollen lips latch around your entrance. you bite your lip, feeling his scar brush up against your cunt and it tickles.
so soaked, his fingers continue to insert in and out of you and you’re a nothing but a whiny mess.
your moans bounce through the thin walls of the spacey dorm before he kisses your clit. “make a mess on my mouth,” he almost pleads, a slight tremor in his voice. toji’s so into it that he doesn’t he notice he’s still humping the sofa. he’s humping the pillow propped directly underneath him to be exact. sloppy feral thrusts—his boner was almost painful and he needed more. he felt embarrassed, getting off to your pleasure. your sounds only made him grind harder though, and he groans once you’re literally tugging his head back and forth against you. “c’mon, give it pretty.”
his hoarse voice had you drenched even more, you feel the sharp pang of nirvana jolt through every artery and vessel stored inside your legs before it happens. you came, you’re teetering against his face as your hips buck into his mouth. he’s met with a sweet taste in his mouth.
a taste from you.
it lingers on his tongue as he merrily laps it up, drinking you until you’re all clean according to his mouth. your eyes were murky and doe eyed—you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you were keeping in. as your chest deflates, you let off a loud ear shrilling climax and toji snickers. so cute, you were a mess. he was an ever bigger mess since his jaw was rightfully locked and sore, precious slick smoothly cascading down his smooth chin like it was a stream.
“fuck,” you huff out, wisping a few crumped fingers through his hair. your hold on his thin strands lessen as you lean back completely dumbfounded.
“did i do good?” toji utters in a raspy tone, lapping a few remnants of your honeyed juices near your outer folds. he slides his fingers out of you only to lick them clean, right before your very eyes.
panting, you nod. “yeah, y- yeah, you did good,” and you watch as shifts, closing the gap between you both. toji sits up from between your legs, and he starts the kiss this time.
your hooded eyes collapse for a moment, closing before you return the sloppy kiss. you moan, relishing at the obscene taste of yourself that now lives on his tongue. it’s sweet, your tongue curls its way around his before he sneaks a hand down between your thighs. you whimper in his mouth, feeling his broad hand give your cunt a big squeeze. you twitched right in his palm and he groans. your noises only made him want you ten times more.
with loud smacks of lips smacking against each other, you make your way on top of toji again. he’s looking at you—panting just like you were. his arched brows compress together as he grabs your hips in place. “you’re so hot,” he exhales, immediately regretting saying that out loud. he sees the slight bashful expression form on your face before you pull on his grey shorts. “y- y’er gonna ride me?”
“yeah,” you mutter, playing with the hem of his boxers. your thumb glissades against it, so soft. it sticks out above his shorts that were merely halfway on. “can i?”
toji nods. “uh huh,” and the fucking boner he had.
you felt it earlier but you knew he was suffering. each second you spent on his lap, the worse it became. it was up until you successfully removed his shorts and you started to grind your hips against his hardened bulge. “s- shit,” he curses, his head immediately throwing itself back. you’re playing with him—swaying up and down his procreated shaft. toji clenched his jaw, a hand of his squeezing the right cheek of your ass. “fuck, ‘s not fair. y’ said you were gonna ride me.”
“i am riding you, toji,” you hum, still a bit shaken up from your most recent orgasmic release. toji narrows his eyes at you and you toss your arms over his shoulders. “see?”
“tch. y’er bein’ unfair, princess.” he scowls at you.
toji’s got your hips in his hands as he’s lazily sat back. his hair was even more ruffled and messed up from your hands yanking and pulling on it. a few black strands run down his almond shaped eyes, shielding his vision a bit. as you proceed to move and jitter your hips around him, you then feel a sudden damp spot.
toji freezes - you freeze.
right near the poking center part of his boxers, it’s a spot where his boner lies that’s dampening up the piece of clothing rather quickly.
with furrowed brow, you glance down—pausing your jerking movements before eyeing toji. “toji. did you just . . . cum?”
suddenly, he grows mute, fuck.
he did—you figured he was sensitive but you didn’t think it was this much. his lips twitch and he’s trying to suppress a moan, it’s adorable. toji wasn’t so used to such contact, he thought he’d last a maybe one round or two, but he wasn’t even inside yet.
his jaw tightens and you spot his veins pulsing out through his skin. you stare at the now grey wet patch that sticks onto his half on boxers.
“oh, toji,” you softly smile, feeling him abruptly bury his face into your neck. he’s still groaning. you hold him, feeling him shiver a bit at your touch—you weren’t used to seeing this side to him, ever. “it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s practically whimpering into your neck. his gruff voice made you pulse and it only got louder. “it happens,” and you feel the stickiness start to bedaub against your fully exposed clit. with a timid expression, you tug in the hem of his boxers. “do you still wanna-”
“please,” he finally speaks again, his voice cracking.
toji’s eyes meets yours again and he’s just longing to feel you from the inside. despite his pussy drunken state, he was so desperate. your teasing only made him ten times more feral. cringing at his own self, his eye twitches. clearing his throat, he helps you pull down his boxers. “eh, i mean yeah. ride me.”
you block your tongue down your throat to refrain from giggling before his cock finally springs out.
it’s thick with a bunch of girth to support it. you can’t help but openly gawk a bit. you figured he’d be a packer but damn. you could literally equate his shaft to the size of a beer can. multiple veins ran down the sides and his base was even fatter than his actual size entirely—not to mention, it’s so pretty.
toji’s angry mushroom tip was glistening with sweltering fresh cum. he’s made quite the mess from that you could see already. he’s got a pink tip with an even more pink cockhead.
his heavy base, it’s swollen and had a tannish pigment color his entire dick. you lick your lips, preparing to align yourself and he grunts.
“s- slow baby,” he murmurs, gently burying his fingertips into both sides of your hips. you give him a nod, leaning up close to his face. you could hear the crack in his voice again before a husky groan rip out his throat. you’re so close to his face that you can’t help but pepper a few kisses near his crooked uneven lips. “fuck, fuck me.
as you’re lowering yourself down on his cock, you let off a moan - and so does he.
toji’s eyelids grow more heavy as he feels himself disappearing into your welcoming sloppy cunt. as toji’s barreling his fat dick inside, he squeezes your ass, feeling your walls swallow and suck him in entirely.
you were so soaked—so soaked, clamping down on him effortlessly and you were barely even moving. toji groans, finding his teeth tucking their ways into the left part of your neck as he holds you close.
“my god,” he hisses, continuing to bury his weighty cock into your slippery cunt.
you were so loud, especially right between your legs. every few seconds you’d be filling the room with wet squelches, pops and pops of pleasurable whines coming straight from your sweet cunt. it’s a feeling he’s never felt.
this felt a lot better than pathetically stroking himself off with the help of some off brand lotion as a substitute. he cringes at the thought because he was finally feeling the real thing. “fuck, ‘s fuckin’ warm, princess. you feel so good inside.”
“yeah?” you pant, and you’re almost all the way in before you grind your hips just a bit forward.
toji’s so thickly built that it takes your body a few seconds to acclimatize. you could feel the bulky tip of his cock extend straight through your spongey walls and it felt so good.
too good.
you could almost drool, that’s how good it felt—
he had staggering jaw-dropping inches that easily stretched you out like your cunt was simply elastic. it had you yearning for more. you lick near his chin where a few dripping droplets of slick run down before you kiss the curvature of his perfectly chiseled jaw. “ ‘m gonna start movin’ okay, toji?”
“okay.” he intakes a single breath, tracing the heart shaped parts of your ass with his fingers.
raspy pants bellow out from his vocal cords in such a rough raw way before he hears the squish.
your ass plops down on his lap and your hips start to create haste. toji grinds his teeth together the minute you start to rut further into him—his head slowly falling back. his eyes were barely open and yet he’s still finding the strength to look at you, look at your pretty face as you’re fucking him stupid.
his mouth slowly opens but no words come out. instead, sweet moans of your name leave his lips and it makes your ears twitch.
toji’s fully in and you feel every inch of him.
you’re bouncing on his dick until your ass was hitting near the hilt, the swollen base of his shaft felt so full and he’s chewing back sharp breaths that try to leave his packed full lungs. his high shortly leaves him with a slight pussy drunken grin and it’s so attractive—
the way his crimson glossed lips appeared all lopsided and droopy, twisting nto a sheepish smile. you spot two visible dimples on both sides of cheeks poking out from his lazy feral half-grin. you even found it hot how every so often he’d flick his tongue near the scar that slopes down the right side of his mouth.
“fuck me,” he repeats, using both hands to make you bounce harder.
skin against skin, both bodies press and squish against each other, and rocking in rhythm and lustful harmony. both of you felt so hot.
scorchingly hot, his heat radiates off of you and you lean into his warm.
it was so hot that you felt like you were gonna melt right on his lap—being turned into nothing but a puddled mess.
you whine, feeling his reddened tip start to thrash against your most sweetest spots.
thwack after abrupt thwack, it was tender at first but now it started to become more sloppy, more sloppy and rude. his mushroom tip swirls around your gripping, coating your insides while leaving blissful french kisses so good that your toes curl up again. “f- fuck, ‘s good, makin’ me feel—”
and his words get interrupted once you stop his sentence for another kiss. “mmph,” he jolts back, speedily returning the sultry embrace.
he could never get enough of your taste, that was for certain. your honed hips continue to buck forward into him as he’s fighting dominance for your tongue—you reel into him continuously as your thighs start to feel a twinge of convulsions.
toji’s balmy breath collides against yours as you slowly pry open your mouth, swapping strings of saliva and lapping up the few remnants of spit that dribble down past the cracks of his lips. “ngh, baby,” he whines between kisses, and his voice softens a bit. it’s not its usual cocky tone. it’s more affectionate,
more tender.
toji can’t keep his hands off of you. as he’s breathlessly speaking between kisses—a whisper of murmurs, he starts to spank your ass. smack after smack, you moan once his palm swats against you, encouraging your hips to go faster.
he quickly gets addicted to the reacting recoil. it was just the way your facial expressions twist from each smack and your little gasps at the brief stings that live near the centers of your rear.
“harder toji,” you whimper, digging your knees more into his thighs. with how fast you were bouncing on his cock, you were already in a trance. a trance you never wanted to get out of.
“tch,” he scoffs, giving your ass another spank. then one turns into two, then three.
he likes the way the fat of your ass collides against his palm. it’s enticing—he stares at you before biting near your chin. it’s more of a playful nibble. dark pools of eyes meet yours and you spot them through your peripherals. you moan at his touch before he feels you push him further back against the sofa. toji looks at you, falling back before you take the wheel. “fuck, gonna make me cum?”
and you don’t give him a reply. he prefers it that way. your hips end up speaking for you and as you rock against him quicker, the sofa cries out a plethora of squeals at the pressures of weight pounding onto it. “yeah you fuckin’ are,” he groans, pulling at the right cheek of your ass.
toji’s still very sensitive from before, but with the way you’re moving and how good your ass throws itself around him, he knew he was about to get ten times more sensitive. he just knew you were gonna milk him, ring him draw. fuck, the thought of being drained by your sweet cunt left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. not only that, but toji felt himself salivating the more he imagined himself finishing because of you.
he lowly grunts, munching down on his lip as the core muscles in his washboard abs tighten and flex underneath his tank top. your cunt constricts around his shaft every single time—ravaging your swollen needy walls became something he never wanted to stop doing.
you were so warm, his cock reached very specific areas that made you whimper out his name over and over on repeat as if it was some sort of exaggerated mantra.
“tojiiiii,” you whine, feelings of lust foiling at your brain. with the constant tingling sensations of his dick stretching through you—you gasp everytime, hearing the lewd shakiness linger underneath your voice. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too.”
“c- cum with me, pretty girl,” he pants, clammy hands of his pawing at your waist.
your body and the way it moved against him in such maddened rhythm had him entirely dumbfounded. his brows arch as he leans back, adam’s apple still bobbing all in his throat. toji’s cock continues to jut his dick way into your drooling pussy before you let off a looooong three second mewl full of concluding elation.
it lasts a long time, the feeling you felt as you’re losing yourself on your roommate’s lap—yet this time, your eyes widen once your thighs clench together before collapsing.
you’re dexterously sucking him in well before your climax comes again—but as you’re trying to focus on your breathing, you feel yourself spraying all over his weighty cock. sappy sweet juices pour down his base as your mouth cutely forms into a circular shape of surprise.
“ffuckk,” you curse, your voice pitching as you pulse all around him. your chaste clit swerves against him as you’re finally coming undone. it’s so much, you left a pool of a mess right on his lap and he was just luxuriating in your sweet filth.
but before toji cums, his bottom lip quivers—beads of perspiration sliding down the sides of his face. “can i- can i finish inside?”
with a numb cock-drunken expression, you give him a nod. “y- yeah, go ahead,” and you look into his eyes, whispering into his ear. “c’mon toji, ‘s okay. give it to me. you can make a mess in me too.”
toji hoarsely groans at your words, holding onto you tight. “fuck, keep talkin’ to me,” he makes you bounce harder on his cock, his muscles clenching at such sensations. “think ‘m gonna cum jus from your words, princess.”
“good boy. f- fuck, toji cum in me,” you teasingly lick near his earlobe.
he grunts at your playfulness—his cock reaching its very limit. he’s so full, his jaw feels heavy before you kiss his cheek. “wan’ you to cum in me. don’t miss, baby. that’s it, h- hold my hips like that, mhm.”
toji holds back a whine as you’re preparing to milk him for all he’s got—he hiccups briefly before it spurts out all at once. it’s much more intense from before. as if on que, toji finished a few seconds later. but once he finishes again, this time it’s not as quick as last time.
he shoots into you raw and it’s literally as if his life changed right before his eyes.
toji’s feeling your hips momentarily swerve and stutter in swift arcs before he’s dumping such a sloppy goopy load into your pussy. slimy stringy ropes trickle into you all at once, shooting right into your empty womb. it’s so much of a load that some of it spills past your saturated folds and down his base.
“s- shit,” he looks down, glancing down at his bushy happy trail through his low hazed peripherals. you’re running a finger down the thin stretchy fabric of his tank top as you ride him, toying at his curly minuscule hairs with your fingertips.
toji came a lot. saying he came a lot was a understatement, he came a ton. such ropes oozed out of you and it was such a pretty sight. for sure—it a lot more than last time, it spills so much that it creates a creamy milky ring around his base. with the both of you now cumming in torrent, you can feel him shaking violently underneath you. the warmth of your walls was something he never knew he needed more.
toji’s mouth grows dry as he reclines back against the sofa. the movie was well over, black credits of dozens of random names blurred on the screen and all.
you both grow quiet. your head presses against his chest— feeling a few strands of chest hair tickle against your cheek. his heart was racing, and it was all because of you.
you didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to move, because then his cum would leak out of you. toji liked the feeling of having you plugged full, your thighs—specially near the crevices and insides were all sticky and wholly coated with his velvety hot spurts of cum.
“f- fuck,” you murmur in an almost whisper, feeling one of his hands slide back toward your ass. toji’s matching your irregular heaving pants before he feels you trying to get up. “toji, let’s—”
“stay,” he cuts you off, and he’s got the most neediest expression. his voice was whiny, he swallows—more breathy pants leaving from him before he buries his face in your chest. verdant droopy eyes give you a long stare before he hugs you, strong broad arms wrapping around you. “i- i want more,” he shivers in your embrace.
you sit up and you thought he was leaning in for a kiss—but instead, he licks your bottom lip. “i don’t wanna jus get high with you anymore, i just want you. i fuckin’ need you, girl,” and you can almost see hearts in his eyes. yeah, he was whipped.
toji cups your face, his voice shaky and he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your palm.
“please. one more round, baby. i love-” and he cuts himself off, his eyes widening before he backtracks, his pout growing. “i need you.”
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sttoru · 6 months ago
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plsplsplspl soft intimate sex with satoru:(
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 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. unprotected. praise kink. spooning position. crēampie. cōckwarming. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess’
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“it’s okay, baby, i know,” satoru whispers words of comfort in your ear from behind. one of his arms is wrapped around your waist to keep your body close, the other circles your thigh, holding up your leg so his cock could slide in and out smoothly.
you’ve both just woken up from an afternoon nap, needy for each other’s touch. your lover’s raspy voice paired with his bedhead has been an irresistible combination.
satoru wasted no time in pulling your shorts down and freeing his erection from its confines. he went from rolling his hips against the fat of your ass and fondling your tits under your shirt, to burying his fat dick all the way up your cunt.
he’s so soft—so caring. his butterfly kisses make you drowsy again, the tingly sensations running from your face to your nape, and back down to your shoulders and upper arms. “let it out, yeah—good girl. don’t be shy,” satoru chuckles softly as he grinds his cock upwards, tip prodding at that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.
your eyes are half-lidded and blurry. you’re feeling so good and loved, so pleased and happy to have a partner like him. “right there, ‘toru,” you whimper quietly once you feel the head of his dick rub back and forth on the deepest parts of your velvety insides. satoru happily obliges, hugging your body even tighter to his chest before burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“here, baby?” the white-haired man asks, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it ghosts over your skin. he keeps his dick balls deep inside you and switches to slow and shallow strokes, “y’re so pretty. you always know jus’ how to take it. so, so, so good.”
your hands are scrambling to hold onto the white sheets. you can’t physically take the amount of pleasure you’re getting, that inevitable peak gets closer and closer. your hips involuntarily jolt back against satoru, reciprocating his gentle thrusts. a big hand reaches out to yours that’s tugging at the covers, slender fingers intertwining with your own.
“m’sgood,” you mumble incoherently through a soft whimper. your back is positioned in a nasty arch that makes satoru’s dick tingle. he sighs against your nape before allowing his tongue to wet the skin, sucking on the same spot soon after. he does the same to your sensitive ears and neck—covering you with his love while also filling your body with the same.
satoru holds your hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to reassure you. “i love you so much, y’know that, right?” he says in a gentle tone. he’s confessed his love to you so many times before, though he always makes it sound like it’s his first time doing so.
“i’m never letting you go, ever,” your partner promises before leaning over your shoulder to catch your lips in a kiss. satoru’s tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before rolling around in your warm mouth. his hips don’t stop, cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing inside of your pussy. the pace never escalates to make the moment last longer.
“mhmm— wanna b-be with you forever,” you mutter against his glossy lips, feeling safe and protected in satoru’s embrace like this. all you’re feeling, hearing and smelling is him. that’s what peace is for you. as long as you got him, you’re going to be just fine.
satoru smiles at your words. you feel so perfect around him, your cunt molded to fit his cock whenever he pleases, remembering its shape and allowing it to ruin your insides. “of course, sweets. i’ll treat you so well, ‘kay? you can count on me,” he comforts you with a forehead kiss.
“pretty girl. you’re perfect,” satoru continues to praise you like no other. his free hand runs over the small of your back and back to your thigh, keeping a gap between them so his cock can move a bit more freely. “let me hear your cute moans, c’mon. fuck, y’ turn me on so much,” he sighs, not knowing what he’d do without you.
satoru is obsessed with all of you. the combination of your personality and looks is heavenly. his lips never stop distracting you, his tender kisses covering your entire upper body. the lovey dovey atmosphere in the room never dulls even once.
“ah, ‘toruu, hnghh—can’t last f’ any longer,” you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back. your lover is all the evidence needed to let you know that sex doesn’t have to be rough to be good. he can make you cum for an infinite amount of times by simply grinding his hips against you—changing his techniques every now and then.
rolling his hips in small circles or simply pressing his cock all the way inside your cunt and then prodding at your sweet spots, is all what’s needed to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.
“aww, my poor baby. can’t hold it in f’me?” satoru pouts before kissing your temples lovingly. he caresses your hip, other hand still not letting go of your hand. there’s such a deep connection between you two—no one can ever sever it. that strong bond feels more intimate when you’re merged into one like this.
“nooo, can’t,” you shake your head and whine about how close you are. satoru nods at your needy words and dips a hand down to rub your clit. his middle and ring finger move around the small bundle of nerves in circles. “khehe, that’s okay. let’s cum together,” he whispers as kisses find their way down your jawline.
you hum in agreement, little moans filling satoru’s ears as you get closer to your climax. your body trembles and heats up, your tummy tingles and tenses up. satoru’s in the same situation as you, his low moans turning into hisses and even quiet whines against the skin of your shoulder.
he holds you close, preparing both of you to reach your long awaited releases. “sh—shit, ‘m g’nna pull out, baby—give me a second,” you hear him whimper under his breath as his hand tightens its grip around yours. he’s nearly crushing your bones.
you don’t give him time to even think of pulling his cock out. you want to relive the sensation of having his seed spread inside of your cunt, overflowing until it’s dirtying the sheets. “no- ‘toru. inside, please,” you beg quietly as your pussy locks around his cock. your walls cling onto his dick, yearning to milk his heavy balls dry of every drop.
satoru gasps and hisses, trying to speak up, but getting overpowered by his own noises of desperation. “fuck, all right, princess. as you wish,” his voice is husky and deep as he pushes his cock in to the base before dumping his load inside you.
ropes of hot cum come out quickly, one after the other, filling you with a hot creamy liquid. you can feel every drop being drained inside your spasming cunt. your own cum mixes with his, creating a lewd mess between your thighs.
“th-thank you,” you whisper tiredly. your body relaxes in satoru’s embrace. you’re trembling due to the intense aftershocks and your lover wastes no time into kissing it better. your forehead is peppered with small pecks, the rest of your face following.
satoru giggles at your fucked out state. he gives you a head pat and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you can feel him grinning uncontrollably against your skin—the joy emitting from him is contagious.
“any time,” he sighs. you can feel his cock softening after that release, still nestled deep inside of you. he has no intention of pulling out, especially since it’s so comfortable. you let him cum inside you and thus he’ll do everything to keep that hot load buried deep inside your cunt.
you can nearly fall asleep like this with satoru. you have zero complains and simply need to relax after what just happened. perhaps take another nap or two.
the white-haired man kisses your shoulder and rubs your lower tummy, enjoying the softness, “i’m gonna prepare us a warm, relaxing bath in a second. let’s just cuddle some more, baby.”
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satori-runa · 8 days ago
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—Come and love me
Summary: Mr.Crawling has different ways to love you.
Tags: Smut, Praise Kink, Cockwarming, Body Worship, Mutual Mastubation, Female reader, fluff, Spoilers for ENDING 04
Words: 1,8k
MDNI, ADULT CONTENT UNDER CUT
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Mr. Crawling is someone who craves the comfort of human touch, but he’s always considerate of your boundaries. No matter how much he yearns for affection, he puts your comfort first, often suppressing his own desires to ensure you’re at ease.
Still, he can’t help but get a bit whiny when you return after a long day outside. On the days when you ask him to stay home, he becomes lonely and restless, waiting impatiently for you. He often lies on your bed with his head nestled on your pillow, inhaling your scent to soothe himself until he hears your footsteps approaching the front door.
The moment you step inside and praise him for being well-behaved, he lights up completely. Mr. Crawling has a serious praise kink, and it’s evident. Mr. Crawling is practically addicted to your praise; it’s like his own personal drug. The second you open your mouth and let a sweet, honeyed word slip out, he’s already trembling with delight. He reacts instantly, a visible shiver of pleasure rolling through his body, mouth going wide as he drinks in every syllable. It’s not just about the words themselves but the way you say them—soft and genuine, like you really mean it. It makes him feel so loved, so needed.
He can’t hide how badly he wants it, how desperate he is for your approval. Even the smallest bit of praise, like a simple "Good boy," can have him biting his lip, his breath hitching as if you’ve touched him in the most intimate way. The effect is almost comical; his face flushes, and he looks like he’s on cloud nine, squirming slightly like he can’t quite contain himself. He craves it so deeply that he actively seeks it out, doing whatever he can to earn your compliments. Of course he deserves a treat for his good behavior.
The treat he prefers most is one he chose himself. Nothing satisfies him more than when you settle into his lap and cockwarm him, taking him by surprise as you sink down onto his length. The sudden feeling of you enveloping him never fails to draw out a choked gasp, his hips twitching up instinctively as he tries to control himself. He loves this position more than anything—the closeness, the intimacy of it. He holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, his arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging as if you might slip away if he lets go. He’s reluctant to release you unless you explicitly ask him to; he’d keep you there forever if he could.
He savors the way your body fits perfectly against his, the softness of your skin against his cooler touch. He buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, his lips grazing your pulse as he shudders at the feeling of your warmth surrounding his cock.
He tries so hard to stay still, knowing you need this quiet moment of comfort, but it’s almost impossible for him. His hips shift ever so slightly, his cock throbbing inside you, and he can’t help the tiny, desperate movements he makes, even if they’re unintentional.
He can’t keep his hands to himself either. His fingers are restless, wandering across your body like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. He takes moments to worship you, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your shoulders, any spot he can reach. His kisses are soft but hungry, lips parting as he drags his tongue over your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat. He lets out a needy, broken moan as his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He’s inexperienced, a little clumsy with his movements, but the eagerness behind it is undeniable. He’s trying so hard to make you feel good, his breath coming out in hot, ragged pants as he watches your reactions intently.
It’s not always sexual, at least not in the way he intends. Sometimes he just wants to feel you, to savor the heat of your body pressed against his, to revel in the way your warmth spreads through him. He loves the sensation of your skin against his own, the soft give of your flesh under his fingertips. But he can’t help himself; even when he’s just trying to hold you, he ends up teasing you without realizing it. His hips roll up slightly, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your chest. He’s so sensitive, so easily overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him, that every little movement you make drives him wild.
He’s not practiced or skilled, and it shows in the way he fumbles, his touches uncoordinated but full of raw desire. He pinches your nipples a little too hard, a whimper escaping his lips when he realizes it, but instead of pulling back, he leans in closer, mouthing at the swell of your breast like he’s making up for it. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to keep himself from thrusting up into you. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to savor the moment or chase after more, and it leaves him caught in this desperate, needy place that only you can pull him out of.
When it comes to mutual masturbation, it’s a different kind of intimacy, one that he’s hesitant about at first but quickly grows to crave. He hates touching himself when he’s alone, but with you, it’s different. You’re right there with him, your hand entwined with his, guiding him through the motions. He watches you, excited and breathless, his own hand trembling as he mirrors your movements. There’s something incredibly intimate about the way you both touch yourselves together, a shared vulnerability that makes his heart race.
He loves it when you talk to him through it, whispering sweet nothings, telling him how good he looks, how well he’s doing. It makes the experience bearable—no, more than that—it makes it beautiful. He’s not embarrassed when he’s with you: he’s not self-conscious or insecure. He’s just caught up in the moment, in the way your bodies move together, the way your breath hitches and syncs up with his.
When your hand finds his, coaxing him to stroke himself while you do the same, he whimpers softly, his fingers twitching against your palm. It’s overwhelming for him, the sensation of his own touch combined with the sight of you doing the same. He can’t stop himself from moaning, a needy, broken sound that escapes his lips as he watches you, completely captivated by the sight. "Me like you." You might whisper, and it takes everything in him to comply, the combination of your voice and your gaze making his whole body tremble.
You can tell how much he loves it by the way he leans into you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he touches himself with your guidance, whimpering in between. He’s panting, mouth open, like he’s too lost in the pleasure to look at anything else. The moment you reach out and wrap your hand around his, helping him stroke himself, he lets out a desperate moan, his entire body shivering as he clutches onto you. He’s a mess, but he’s your mess, completely undone by the shared pleasure and the feeling of your touch.
Mr. Crawling can be so eager when it comes to pleasuring you in return, that it borders on frantic. He doesn’t always take his time—sometimes, when he’s overwhelmed with excitement and craving you desperately, all of his usual patience flies out the window. He’ll drop between your legs, pulling you closer with a roughness that’s uncharacteristic for him, but it’s not out of aggression: it’s pure, unfiltered need. His hands are trembling as they grip your thighs, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. He’s already panting, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and it makes him that much more impatient.
He dives in without hesitation, his mouth pressing against you hungrily, almost clumsily, as if he can’t bear to wait a second longer. His tongue flicks out, sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but it’s the urgency behind it that makes it so intoxicating. He’s lapping at you like a man starved, the sounds he makes—soft whimpers and desperate groans—filling the room. He’s inexperienced, but there’s something endearing about the way he tries so hard, so eager to please you even if he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. He’s guided more by instinct than skill, following your reactions like they’re the only thing that matters.
He keeps glancing up at you, his face excited and yet almost pleading, as if he’s searching for reassurance that he’s doing it right. When he sees your pleasure written across your face, it only spurs him on. He loses himself in it, licking at you with a feverish intensity that makes it clear just how badly he needs this. He doesn’t bother with precision: he’s messy, licking you with broad, hurried strokes, his lips sucking at your clit with a desperate fervor. He moans into you, the vibrations sending little shocks of pleasure through your body, and you can tell he’s getting off on this as much as you are.
His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, like he’s afraid you might pull away. He’s whimpering into you, his tongue moving erratically, like he’s trying everything at once, too caught up in his own excitement to settle into any kind of rhythm. It’s overwhelming for him—the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his hands, the sounds you make when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s panting between licks, his mouth never straying far from you, desperate to keep going even when he’s gasping for breath.
He’s a little too rough at times, sucking at your clit with a bit too much pressure, but the enthusiasm in his actions makes it hard to fault him for it. He’s learning from your reactions, his own inexperience showing through in the way he fumbles a bit, but it only adds to the intensity of the moment. When you tug on his hair, moaning out his name, he practically whines, grinding his face into you with renewed fervor. He’s almost overwhelmed by his own need, licking and sucking like he can’t get enough, like he’s trying to memorize every part of you with his mouth.
If you try to guide him, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging gently to slow him down, he lets out a frustrated, needy sound, shaking his head as if to tell you he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to pace himself. He’s too lost in the moment, too eager to please, to care about taking his time. He’s devouring you like he’s afraid this is his only chance, like he’s desperate to prove how much he wants you, how much he loves being here, between your legs, giving you everything he can.
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