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pseudowho · 3 months ago

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Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

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A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

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Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

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"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

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fairy-angel222 · 8 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𐙚⋆.˚

You'd been such a bad girl for him, so bratty and rude. No punishment would be fit enough than tying your hands and legs together and making you sit on a couch near the bed.

Your eyes watery as you whimpered desperately into the pair of panties stuffed between your lips. Trying to rub your thighs together for any kind of friction to your aching clit.

Geto only smirked, tangling his fingers into Gojo's hair before lifting the moaning man to face you. Gojo's eyes filled with pleasure filled tears as they met yours.

His back arching deeply as Geto hammered roughly into his ass.

"This could've been both of you baby." Geto groaned. "Ya couldn't been getting fucked this good if you weren't such a brat." He spat.

Your pleas were muffled by the drool filled fabric, your wetness dripping lewdly onto your thighs and the chair below you. Rutting your hips back and forth in an attempt to feel something, anything, on your throbbing clit.

Gojo let out a cry, his body trembling as Geto held his back flush on his chest. His hand wrapping around the white haired man's neck with a deep grunt. "Such a good boy f' me Satoru." Gojo's eyes rolling back with a mewl. "Such a good fucking boy. Taking me so well."

You watched as Gojo neared his orgasm, Geto reaching forward to stroke at his sensitive cock. Gojo unable to help the loud moans and whimpers leaving his mouth as his pleasure doubled, body trembling as he experienced the most mind blowing orgasm.

Something that you could’ve gotten too.

"Look at her when you cum." Geto growled lowly, his own cock twitching as he whispered into Gojo's ear. Hard thrusts lewd and sloppy as he forced the white haired man to keep eye contact with you.

"Ahh- Suguruu," Gojo cried out, his abs tensing as his voice cracked, coming undone with a high pitched moan. Thick spurts of his cum spilling into the air in front of him with a shiver.

Geto hummed, spilling deep into Gojo with his eyes on you and a smirk on his face. Chuckling darkly at the pouty glare you attempted to give him. "Listen baby, if Satoru manages to fuck you properly while i fuck him, then you can cum." He suggests.

And you nodded eagerly, your pussy aching with need at the idea of getting stuffed. Gojo panted heavily, whimpering when Geto pulled out of him to go untie you. Feeling the man's cum leaking out of him and onto the sheets, some of it running messily down his thighs.

"You're so mean Sugu." you mumbled when you were untied, Geto's fingers under your chin lifting your head to look up at him. "Don't make me change my mind."

You whimpered in protest. "N-no wait! ‘M sorry, I'll be a good girl i promise."

"Good."

You quickly found yourself being shoved onto your hands and knees, Gojo fucking into you while Geto fucked into him. The dark haired man controlling the pace and rhythm with his harsh thrusts.

You and Gojo were so noisy. Your whiny moans echoing in the room as you were both fucked dumb. Gojo's cock prodding at your g spot as it pierced deep into you. His hips slamming roughly into you each time Geto mercilessly drilled into his ass. Fat cock kissing his prostate repeatedly.

You let out a loud cry, Gojo's grip on your hips tightening as a string of mewls fell past your lips. The stimulation on both ends driving him crazy as he let Geto do all the work, practically fucking him in and out of you.

"Look at you two. Two dumb little cock sluts f' me aren't ya?" Geto mused, enjoying the way you were both falling apart under him. "So fucking pretty, both of you." he groaned. Rolling his hips to hit Gojo's prostate meanly, making the man let out a broken cry. His breathing getting heavy as his legs shook under him. You clenching down on his cock so tightly not making his situation any better.

"Suguru— nngh— Satoru, s-so go-odd," you moaned, your back arching as your vision blurred, drowning out Gojo's cries and Geto's groans as your head became fuzzy. Your lips parting in a string of short screams as you got closer and closer to the edge.

"Nngh— 'm gonna cum. O-oh fuck- ahhh, 'm gonna cum," you babbled shakily.

"Ahh, me t-too— nngh." Gojo voiced, his head falling back onto Geto's shoulder while your hands went limp under you. Your cheek pressed into the sheets making him reach so much deeper. Cock grazing your g spot all the more sweeter.

"Shit— both of you are doing so well. Moaning so damn sluttily- fuck, let it out sweethearts.. that's it." Geto encouraged. Both you and Gojo shaking uncontrollably as you came. Gojo painting your walls white as you moaned, pussy squirting messily onto his cock.

"Get down on your knees f'me." Geto gritted out, you and Gojo complying despite your panting state, both of you attempting to calm the rise and fall of your chests. Kneeling next to each other on the floor for Geto to begin stroking his cock.

"My pretty little sluts," he groaned, "so fucking p-perfect." Fisting his cock till his cum coated both your pretty faces. Swallowing hard when you two took the other’s lips on your own. Sloppily swapping his cum from one mouth to another as you whimpered.

You and Gojo holding onto each other tightly as you both rutted your hips, soft moans filling the room when you took turns licking at each other’s lips. All the blood rushing right back to Geto’s cock as he watched you two make out.

“Looks like we’re far from finished huh?” A grin gracing his face when you both looked up at him through still wet lashes.

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s0dium · 8 months ago

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Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete, douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers, teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted, filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader

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desire4ella · 2 months ago

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❝ I’ll ruin you for any other man…❞

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Venom x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your nasty alien eats you out…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Spitting,Slut shaming and just down right nasty shi

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 552

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation but here you are splayed across your bed with your big,hunky alien between your legs. His crescent milky, white eyes glared up at you as his monstrous tongue glided teasingly across your plush thighs; his teeth skittered daringly across every perimeter he touched; they were so sharp they could puncture your flesh and paint your skin red at any second, but something about that turned you on- the thought of him purposely nicking your skin to claim you as HIS turned you on to no avail.

You let out a whiny moan as the tip of his tongue swiped across your pulsing nub, groaning in appreciation he used his two hands to grab your thighs to pull you closer to his gaping mouth. “ That’s it baby, moan for me- let the world hear how much of a slut you are for me” he half smirked as you whimpered in response and attempted to close your legs around him, to which he just spreaded your legs wider to allow him to feast upon you with no difficulties. He stopped his sweet abuse on your dripping cunt and stared deep into your eyes “ I want you to be a good girl and use one of your hands to rub your clit while I ravish this aching pussy” without giving you a chance to speak he delved right back into your cunt like a starved man, you let out a long moan in response and snapped your eyes shut as you felt his velvet tongue slide in out of your hole like a piston.

You bit your lip and leaned back into your soft pillows; using your middle finger to rub your clit in fast circles you couldn’t help the sinful moans that were spilling out of your mouth,you began to play with your nipples with your other hand, but that was quickly stopped when he spawned two random tentacle’s and replaced your hand with them, your pussy clenched down hard on his tongue as you felt them tweak and pull at your hardened nipples.

Leaning his head back a bit he gathered up some of your creamy juices and spat it backed onto your puffy lips, he watched it drip down past your fluttering asshole before once again diving back in. You lurched forward in pleasure as you felt your release about to come. He hummed in acknowledgment and sped up his actions,making sure to slither his tongue deep into your pussy so it hits your g spot.

You felt like your body was lit ablaze as you felt tingling sensations all over your body,your eyes rolled to back of your skull and you gripped tightly onto the sheets; the pleasure was all to much, ragged and loud moans were played into the air like sweet tunes.

Rising up from between your thighs you watched as saliva mixed with your delicious nectar dripped from his mouth and unto the clean sheets below you. Leaning close to your face he lowly whispered “I’ll ruin you for any other man” God he was so sexy when he was possessive.

( copy rights to @kyejiz for the divider)

𝐀/𝐍: I know this is a shock but I just wanted to delve into a different fandom since it’s halloween and shi,tell me what y’all think.

#SoundCloud #venom fanfiction #venom symbiote #venom x reader #venom x you #venom smut #my original content #venom imagine #venom #monster smut #monster fucker #ang3l🎀🧁

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imaginedisish · 4 months ago

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Hungry Like the Wolf (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Loved this request. Thank you so much anon! Here is the *jealous sex* with Logan. Inspired by "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran. Enjoy!

Summary: You're cornered by a scum-bag frat-boy while on a mission in a club, and Logan gets possessive, deciding he needs to remind everyone who you're really with.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), rough/jealous sex, jealous!Logan, softdom!Logan, implied!age gap, creepy unnamed OC who doesn't fuck off, Logan gets a little (very) possessive, breeding kink?(if you squint), mention of alcohol, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,513

This has to be the most ridiculous mission Charles has ever sent the team on.

Music pulses through your body, the bass of the song shaking the dance floor and the walls of the club. Everything feels blurred, unstable, just out of your grasp. Colored lights flash rapidly, and you look around hoping to find Logan out of the corner of your eye. Naturally, he’s nowhere to be seen, and neither is the rest of the team.

“A club? You’re sending us to get information from a club?” Logan spat, furrowing his brows.

Charles tilted his head to the side, taking a deep breath. “I assure you all, this is well thought out. The information on the sentinels will be placed by the informant on a napkin underneath a martini at the bar at promptly 12:45 AM.”

Logan shook his head, and Scott scoffed. “What is it, big guy? Afraid to have a little fun for once?” “Shut the fuck up, four eyes,” Logan said back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gruffness, at the way he put Scott in his place.

“Enough,” Charles commanded. “The club is called Nightmoves. Be there by 12:20 AM, no later. Is that understood?” Charles looked to you, Scott, Jean, Logan, and Jubilee individually, and waited for each of you to nod.

“Fine,” Logan huffed.

But now you’re here, alone, somehow separated from the team. You look at the watch on your wrist: 12:44 AM. Shit, you think to yourself, glancing at the bar. You see a hooded figure alone on the far-left side, and you start to make your way over. The person picks up a martini glass, places a new napkin underneath, and walks away. You look back down at your watch: 12:45 AM.

You rush over to the bar, pick up the martini glass, and grab the napkin. The white, thick paper has small numbers scrawled on the back of it in neat, black ink—a set of coordinates. You smile, folding the napkin carefully, and stuffing it into the front pocket of your leather pants.

“Hi there,” an unfamiliar, male voice calls from behind you. You turn around to find a young, 20-something-year-old frat boy ogling you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. Would’ve remembered.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and smile politely instead. “First time here,” you shout over the music. “And probably my last. I’m heading out, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Let me buy you a drink,” he cuts you off, stepping closer to you.

You take a step back, bumping into the counter of the bar. “I’m alright. Really, I’m not staying—”

“Aw come on, I don’t bite,” he persists. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You scoff, disgusted. “Listen, and fucking trust me when I say this, I am not into you. Got it?”

“Hard to get, I like that.” You audibly groan at his ridiculous, disgusting comment, trying to step towards the edge of the bar to make your escape. But he reaches his arm out, his knuckles brushing against your bare shoulder. “You know you want me, baby. Don’t try to—”

The man stops short, his jaw dropping. You take another step to the side, bumping into someone unmistakably warm and familiar. “I think she’s made herself clear, bub,” Logan says from behind you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you in closer.

“A-and who are you?” The man rolls his eyes. “Her father or something?”

“Fuck off, bub,” Logan growls, backing you away from the man. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. She told you no, and yet you kept badgering my girl.”

The man swallows harshly, wracking his brain for something to say, for some excuse. “W-well maybe she wanted it!”

“Wanted it?” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Fucking prick.” Logan tugs you away, flipping the guy off with his claw. The frat boy responds by yelling Fucking freaks! shrilly over the synth-pop blasting through the speakers.

“You okay?” Logan asks, his lips at the shell of your ear as he guides you through the club. “Did he hurt you? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, really,” you assure. “Just a fucking weirdo.” But Logan isn’t letting up. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close while guiding you through the crowded club. “I-I got the napkin,” you say, but Logan doesn’t answer. Just when you think he’s heading out the door, he takes a sharp left towards a dimly lit hallway.

He lets go of his grip on your waist, reaching for your hand instead, his fingers intertwining with yours. He doesn’t say a word as he walks past a set of doors—the bathrooms, the coat room, and an office. He looks behind him before trying the knob of a closed door. The knob twists and Logan pushes the door open, pulling you inside with him.

“Logan, what are you—”

He shoves you against the door as the room envelops you in darkness, his hands fumbling on either side of your head for a light switch. There’s a click, and the light switches on, revealing a spacious broom closet. Logan cages you in, his chest heaving, his forehead pressing against yours.

You bring your hands up to his neck, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Lo,” you whisper, his lips just inches from yours. You can see the jealousy in his eyes, the possessiveness, the protectiveness. He knows you can handle yourself—knows that you’re even more powerful than he is. And Logan isn’t normally the jealous type—he trusts you endlessly. But something set him off tonight—he’s almost feral. He works his jaw, looking down at you under dark, lust-filled eyes. He grips your wrists tightly.

“Need you now, pretty girl,” he growls. “Nobody touches you but me.” His lips capture yours, hungry, needy, desperate. He’s swallowing you whole. “My girl.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. Everything is rushed and hazy, rough and impatient. “Fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you mumble against his lips. “Only yours.”

One of his hands releases its hold on your wrists and slides down your body, toying with the straps of your tank top. “Gonna fuck you, pretty girl,” Logan husks, his fingertips trailing across your collarbone, teasingly tugging at the neckline of your top. “You want that?” “Y-yes,” you stutter, your knees buckling as he palms your breasts, massaging gently, brushing over your nipples. “Please.”

His hand glides down to the hem at the bottom of your top, slipping underneath. His fingers trail over your bare skin, across your stomach, and up to your breasts. He smirks darkly at the realization that you aren’t wearing a bra. He hums, pulling your shirt up the rest of the way, revealing your chest to him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises, teasing your nipples with one hand while the other still pins your wrists tightly against the door. “Want everyone to know who you belong to,” he husks, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then repeating on the other side.

“Y-you,” you moan, rocking your hips against Logan’s, searching for friction, for some kind of relief. “Always want you.” You grind down on his thigh impatiently.

“Need me that bad, huh?” Logan teases, pushing his hips against yours. You can feel his erection straining through the denim of his jeans. “Don’t think I’m too old for you?” He asks, half serious. “Don’t think that guy can fuck you better than me?”

“N-no,” you stammer, your chest heaving against his. “Th-that guy was an idiot,” you breathe, struggling to find your words as Logan’s hand slips down your body, suddenly palming your heat. “I just want you, Logan.”

His fingers brush over your all too-clothed cunt, toying with you. “I know, darlin’,” he soothes. His hand reaches up to the waistband of your pants, working at your button and zipper. He lets go of his grasp around your wrist as he drops to his knees. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leather pants, pulling them and your panties down with one fluid motion. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands as he settles between your thighs.

“Lo,” you whine, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel his every breath. A shiver runs down your spine, anticipation and heat growing in your already aching core. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, always need—”

And then he’s lapping at your clit, burying his face inside your cunt. His tongue laves through your folds, savoring you, exploring you. “Tastes so good, beautiful,” Logan mumbles against you. “Always so sweet, so perfect.”

You curse under your breath, holding back your moans as Logan’s hand trails up your inner thigh, climbing towards your folds. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud between his lips and sucks roughly. His fingertips nudge your slit open, spreading your slick.

“Wanted to fuck you on that bar,” Logan husks. He finally thrusts two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Wanted everyone to know who you’re with, who makes you feel good.” He slides all the way out only to shove his fingers back in.

“F-fuck,” you whimper as Logan pumps in and out. “Logan.”

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Logan grunts against you, his tongue drawing tight circles around your clit. “Wanna hear you say my name again.”

“L-Logan,” you pant, his thrusts growing faster, his fingers dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking roughly again. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

But Logan notices. His tongue slows to a stop, his fingers suddenly still inside you. He looks up at you, squirming against him, searching for relief, and he smirks. “No holding back, princess,” he demands, watching your hips rock against his fingers. “Wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as his fingers pull out, adding a third finger as he slams back into you. “Fuck!” You groan. Logan’s tongue laps at your clit again, flicking the bud mercilessly. His name falls from your lips like a chant, a prayer, a hymn.

“Doing so good for me,” Logan praises, the vibrations of his voice rocking against your core. “Such a good fucking girl.” Your walls flutter around his fingers as he sinks deeper, still working you open with every thrust.

“L-Lo, I’m so close,” you groan. His teeth graze your clit as he smiles against you, taking the bud between his lips and sucking again—longer this time, and harder. You can feel yourself slipping, falling apart under his touch. “Please, I wanna come, Lo.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, his gaze finding yours. You can see the starvation in his eyes, that possessiveness from before. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, pretty girl.” Your muscles contract at his words, your knees buckling as pleasure courses through your veins. “Wanna taste it.” He pumps in and out, harder, deeper, his tongue still drawing those delicious, tight circles around your clit.

His voice darkens. “Wanna be the only one who ever gets to do this to you.”

And then your orgasm crashes into you, wave after wave, destroying you and building you back up. It’s overwhelming—your legs trembling as Logan continues to lap at you, to consume you, to commit your taste to memory. You cry out his name as you come, melting into the door as he works you through it.

Logan’s pumps slow until his fingers are still inside you. He gently pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. His tongue licks long stripes through your folds and up to your clit, savoring every last drop of you.

“Lo,” you whine, bringing your hands down to his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, and he hums against you. “Lo,” you call again, and he finally looks up, his face pulling away from your cunt. “Need you now.”

Logan smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt. “Need you too, beautiful,” he huffs, letting the belt fall to the floor as he works at his button and zipper. “Always fucking need you.” He tugs his jeans and his boxers down his legs. He drags his beater up and over his head, casting it to the ground.

He suddenly hoists you up, leaning you against the door, his hand gripping your ass, the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance. “Please,” you beg, trying to sink down onto him, but he holds you back, pushing your hips into the door.

“So fucking impatient,” Logan teases, suddenly thrusting into you, bottoming out, splitting you open.

Your arms wrap around his back, and he presses his forehead to yours. He’s deep inside you, unmoving. “Lo,” you whine. “P-please, m-move.”

“Wanna feel you first,” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, his lips meeting yours again. “So warm, fuck.” He finally pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, somehow deeper this time.

“Logan,” you moan, digging your nails into his back. “Fuck me, please.”

He slides out, his cock dragging along your walls, and slams back in. “Like that?” He grunts, filling you up. “Want me to fuck you into this door?” You hum a soft yes, and Logan rams into you, his hips snapping roughly.

“It feels so good,” you whimper, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing along the walls of the closet. “Only want you, Lo.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, his free hand slipping between your bodies and finding your clit. He begins to draw tight, rapid circles around the bud. “F-fuck, you’re mine. This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it?” “Yes,” you whisper as he fucks into you. “All yours. Always.”

Logan groans as he thrusts deeper, harder. His pace is insatiable, unrelenting, frantic. His thumb strokes your clit, adding more pressure with every swipe. You know he’d do anything to get you there, to have you falling apart in his arms. You know he wants to make you come again and again—to prove to you that he’s all you need—to make you feel good. No, better than good. Whole. Perfect. Satisfied.

Your walls flutter around him as he flicks your overstimulated clit. “A-already close,” you whine as Logan plunges into you, his hips snapping against yours.

“I know, beautiful,” he coos, pinching your clit. “Can feel you squeezing me.” He thrusts in and out, pushing you closer to that edge. Your walls flutter again, and Logan bites your pulse point, licking soothingly once he’s finished. “Let go for me, pretty girl.” It’s a demand, not a request. “Wanna feel you come.”

It’s all liquid heat and warm thick honey, the tension snapping as you come undone again. But you know Logan isn’t finished with you yet. You know there’s more to come. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan a string of curses and Logan’s name.

“That’s it,” Logan says softly, pressing a kiss to that spot just underneath your ear. “Taking me so well, letting me make you feel good.” His thumb is still on your clit, drawing those tight little circles while his hips pound into you. “I know you’ve got one more in you, princess. Know you can take it.”

“It’s s-so much,” you choke, the tension already building back up at the bottom of your belly. “I-I…” You trail off, fucked out beyond belief. He’s still splitting you open with every thrust, filling you to the brim.

“It’s okay, princess,” Logan whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The intimacy sends a pulse of pleasure to your core. “I’ve got you, just wanna make you feel good.” You curse under your breath as he ruts into you, working at your clit.

You know you can’t last much longer. Not with the way his eyes watch every moan escape from your lips, or the way his hips roll against yours, searching for more, always finding a way to sink deeper. He wants all of you, always. And you’re more than happy to give yourself to him time and time again.

“You feel so good,” you whine, your muscles contracting and releasing as his cock pumps in and out. “Only you, Lo.”

“F-fuck,” Logan moans, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He flicks your clit, edging you along. You know he’s close, his cock throbbing inside you, twitching as your walls squeeze him. “Wanna fill you up,” he husks, shoving himself deeper. “Wanna make you mine.”

“I’m all yours,” you whimper. Logan pinches your clit, circling roughly, and the current drags you under. It’s more intense this time, stars flooding your vision as you let go. Your orgasm wracks through your body, leaving you a quivering mess as Logan finishes inside you, painting your walls.

You share one breath, your chests heaving together as Logan’s cock stalls inside you. He strokes your clit as he fills you up, riding out your orgasm, easing you down from your high. His fingertips slip away from your bud and trail up your body, his arm wrapping around your back. He pulls you into his chest, holding you close, his cock still half-hard inside you.

“I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, his possessiveness and jealousy are replaced by the softness he reserves just for you. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too, Lo,” you whisper back. You can hear the bass of the music pouring through the club, and you suddenly remember the mission at hand. “We should go. The others are probably worried.”

“Don’t care about the others,” Logan mumbles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just care about you.”

You smirk, shaking your head, trying to wiggle yourself free from Logan’s iron grip. “Really, Lo. We need to leave. I have the napkin in my pocket. It’s the coordinates to—”

He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips as he settles you back down. He pulls up his jeans and boxers, starting the process of putting everything back in its proper place.

“Relax,” he mutters, sinking down to the ground. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a nearby rack and rips off a sheet, cleaning your inner thighs. He throws the sheet into the garbage and pulls your pants and panties back up your legs.

Logan tugs your tank top down over your breasts and swipes your hands away as you reach to button and zipper your pants back up. He takes over the task for you, bringing his hands to your face once he’s done. His thumbs gently brush underneath your eyes, likely clearing away whatever mascara or eyeliner smeared while he was fucking you.

“You okay?” He asks once he’s done, his arms wrapping around your back and pulling you into his chest.

“Yeah,” you mumble, letting him hold you for a second before slipping your hand into your front pocket to make sure the napkin is still there. You let out a sigh of relief when you brush your fingertips against the coarse paper. “Never better.”

“Good,” Logan whispers, letting you go and grabbing his belt and beater from off the floor. He pulls the beater up and over his head, and then slides the belt through the loops of his jeans, securing the buckle. He grabs your hand, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Ready?” He asks, and you nod. Logan twists the knob of the door and pushes it open, the pulsing music and lights of the club flooding your senses.

You walk towards the entrance, and find Scott, Jubilee, and Jean surveying the club, likely looking for you and Logan.

“Let’s go,” Logan shouts over the music, getting the team’s attention. Scott steps towards Logan. “Where did you go?” He yells. “We were getting worried.”

Logan reaches into your front pocket, and you can feel the heat rising to your chest as he squeezes your thigh and pulls the paper out. “She got the napkin. That’s all that matters.”

You know Scott is rolling his eyes underneath those glasses. Jean smirks and shakes her head, and Jubilee laughs. You make your way to the exit, pushing through the doors and into the quiet of the parking lot.

“You know, Logan,” Scott chides as you walk to the car. “I heard some guy talking about a freak flipping him off with a silver claw. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asks, condescension and sarcasm heavy in his voice.

You look at Logan and he smirks. “Had to put an asshole in his place,” he says nonchalantly, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to your temple. “My girl,” he whispers against the shell of your ear so only you can hear.

His.

Nobody else’s.

tags: @galacticglitterglue @buck-angel31 @alsoprettyinpink @annabelldoesstuffz @starrdustss @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @fanfic-writing-barbie @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @evasmlp @rammakela @cosmiccandydreamer (if I forgot to add you I'm so sorry)

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avocado-writing · 5 months ago

Note

Hi Avo! Could you please consider writing a protective poly logan and wade x reader? Maybe something happens they weren’t there but when they show up deadpool is distracting/comforting the reader and logan is going ham on the enemy. ploy or separate is up to you!

Just a thought! Enjoying your work as always! ✨anon

deadpool: look how I spell it “grey” because the writer is english! Crazy logan: what?

It’s Logan who sweeps you up. You know it is, because he’s a solid wall of a man under your hands where you’ve buried into him. His chest is warm and reassuring; you focus on it, trying to ground yourself even though you can taste your pulse thrumming in terror.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ve got you,” he mutters under his breath, a growl in your ear, a tender little secret of his softness shared between the two of you.

It had all been so sudden. You’d been taking the shortcut home after going shopping for tonight’s dinner when you’d felt someone grab you. Tomatoes had rolled across the ground, cans denting loudly as they fell, and you’d been dragged towards the back of the van as your captors loudly discussed if they had the right person. They said something about you fucking two mutants, and the bile with which they had spat it chilled you.

You’d been certain you were going to die. Cold fear flooded you, your eyes squeezed closed tight. Please, don’t let Logan and Wade find my body. They won’t be able to take it. If these guys are gonna kill me, let me just disappear.

Then again, that was before the claws came through the metal of the roof and all hell had broken loose. Guns went off and you screamed, unsure if they were Wade’s or not - but strong arms had picked you up and hauled you to safety.

You feel yourself being passed to someone else, Logan pushing you into Wade’s grip and giving him strict instructions to look after you, then he’s gone. The sounds of violence continue and, without thinking, you turn to look.

“Oh, no, honey, you don't need to see that. That’s just… plain disgusting,” says Wade, grimacing, “even looking at this mess is better than seeing what Peanut’s doing to those guys.”

Upon the word ‘mess’, he gestures to himself. Despite your heart hammering against your ribs, you reach up to press your hand against his cheek.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Wade. You came to save me.”

A flit of confusion crosses his face, knocking his usual bravado.

“You thought we’d just let them bundle you into their ‘not allowed within five hundred feet of schools’ van and disappear? Give us some credit. We’re not white knights, but we’re at least, y’know, morally grey knights.”

He says this to make you laugh, and it works. You’re distracted as the sounds of screams literally die out and Logan stalks back over. You see him removing his jacket to hide the blood on it from you. It’s still spread across his knuckles, though, a masterpiece of the revenge he just enacted.

“Don’t worry about them. They won’t be bothering you again,” he says with an air of finality. His hand raises to cup your face, so gentle with you, such a contrast to moments before. His voice is laced with a tenderness when he asks, “you doing okay?”

You nod. Yeah. With them here, you are doing okay.

“Thanks,” you manage, shakily, adrenaline leaving your body to give way to fat, rolling tears of relief. Not missing a beat, Wade looks Logan up and down.

“Hey, there’s still some viscera on your shirt, Peanut. Maybe you should take that off, too?”

“Watch it, bub,” he growls, but you can tell his heart isn’t really in it. They’re both just thankful that you’re safe.

Your heroes, both of them. Morally grey or otherwise.

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader

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shaisuki · 1 year ago

Text

“c'mere megumi. i know you're tired.”

gojo calls out to him but the boy ignores him and continued to walk.

“he won't satoru. you traumatized him.” you quipped at him.

teleportation is fun and all but not to a fourth-grader megumi who got almost dropped mid-air from the teleportation skill gojo have, only to catch him mid-air before he truly drops.

“i catched him before he fell.” the white-haired male pouts.

“catched him before he fell?” scoffing at him. “he's a child, satoru. think before you do something to him. you almost endangered him with your antics and you can't do whatever you please when you want. you're an ass and you know it.” you spat at him and gojo pouts and he's like a child kneeling down while being scolded.

you crouched down to meet the height of megumi. patting his head and you began to speak in a soft voice. “i'll carry you, okay? i promise no funny business.” drawing a cross in your chest to convince megumi. the poor child is sleepy and fighting the urge to not sleep caused by the earlier wrongdoing of an pre-adult.

deciding to trust you, megumi comes closer to you and puts his arms around your neck before carrying his small body in front of you. your arms tucked under his thighs and it turns to snuggle you. his jaw in your shoulder.

megumi blankly stares at the adult behind you. immature, he thought but his eyes are getting heavy and sleep is calling to him. before his eyes closed he reminds himself not to be carried by that weird man.

it took a few seconds before the child snuggling in you fell asleep. you can tell from the lack of movements of his body and the small snores. patting his back before continuing to walk.

gojo followed you. he felt bad and it was like a punch to him in the gut when you scold him but he likes it. loves it when your cheeks puff and your eyes rolling at him in annoyance.

stopping at a bakery to get a few sweets to satisfy his sweet tooth and for the siblings to eat back home. you continued to walk, enjoying the little peace and quiet before a old lady approached at you three.

“oh my! what a cute family.” the old lady commented and your eye twitched at the comment. giving the lady a smile before briefly bowing.

taken a back at the sudden statement before gojo burst out in a laughter. “she called us a family, (y/n).”

“ha-ha-ha. funny.” you dryly responds to him and adjusting your arm to make megumi comfortably settle in you. the child is completely passed out in your grasp and you can't help but to kiss megumi's wild hair in which megumi groans before going back to sleep.

“aww, come on. i didn't mean it, okay?” gojo whines, blocking your way as he walked backwards to meant he really is sorry.

“okay.” you replied back to him. “just don't do it again.”

“okay!” he beams up and once again silence filled in the long way of walking.

dusk is beginning to settle down and the sky turns into orange. the sunlight giving it's final rays before the night falls.

“kind of you to take them both, satoru.” you break the silence and gojo hums. thinking about something.

despite gojo's stubbornness and his lack of tact in things, you like that he's willing to help the children to have a roof over their head and spoiled them like it's his own. even preventing megumi to be taken away from his clan and let him have a normal childhood with his sister.

“say, (y/n). what if we adopt them both?” gojo asks you.

“we? and adopt?” gojo nods. waiting for your answer. “i think it's fine. these two will have two guardians to look them over if the other one's not around and in case something's happen to one of us.”

“don't say that, (y/n).”

you raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.

“it's inevitable, satoru. in this line of work we have.” you said to him. referring how dangerous the jujutsu society is and you'll never know what the future may hold.

“i'll protect you. us”" his bright blue eyes peeking through his dark glasses with sincerity. looking at you and megumi sleeping in your arms.

“satoru....” you call him and his eyes full of sincerity.

“that's nice, satoru.” you smile at him but the expression in his face is anticipating something more.

“i know you will, satoru.” and he grins. pressing a tender kiss in your forehead and patting megumi's head. “stop that, sato. you'll wake him up and don't get too sappy with me. it's not you.” he pouts at that but kisses you again.

he can't wait to be with you forever.

#꩜ ⋮ shai's thirst/drabbles⸝⸝#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x chubby reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #jjk megumi #child megumi #x reader

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rebelssvy · 17 days ago

Text

thigh ride ✧.*

kirishima x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

LABELS: smut. no actual sex. you get off on his thigh. he’s smuttyyyy

you had never been so interested in your boyfriend’s attention. but everything you were doing couldn’t pry his eyes away from his phone.

it had already been a long day, the both of you coming home from work and laying down in your shared bed. he had been sporting only boxers and a plain white shirt. you had been the same way in just your panties and a tshirt you had stolen from him.

maybe it was the way he wasn’t looking at you, or giving you little attention at all that ticked you off.

you gave him little kisses on his cheeks before pulling yourself back.

a smile plastered on his face, but his eyes were still watching his phone.

“kiriiii..” you frowned, placing your head on his chest in defeat.

“yes baby..?” he responded, still not buffering his attention to you.

“why can’t you looook at meee….?” you sighed, feeling bummed.

he paused, looking up at you beside him. he was slouched against the headboard. he took in all your features.

“what’s wrong babe? everything ok?” he asked as if it was that simple.

he didn’t know how badly you missed his touch. you craved his intimacy.

you groaned against his shoulder. hiding your face in this collar bone. you strattled him. sitting on one of his thighs.

he turned his attention back to his phone when you didn’t give him a verbal response.

the heat in your core had become overwhelming. you needed a release.

thinking you were sneaky with it, you slowly grinded your pussy against his thigh. wetness growing in your panties.

a sharp breath getting sucked in when he activated his quirk. his muscular thigh becoming hard, and slightly rigid.

you looked at him with heated eyes, just to be met with a man that now had all his interest on you.

you wondered how long you had been grinding on him before he noticed.

“don’t get all shy now babe.” he stated chuckling a little. his hands found your hips. pulling you closer to himself.

your skin grew hot.

he didn’t dirty talk much. normally kirishima was so vanilla it was painful. but when he was dirty, he was disgusting.

“aww cmon don’t get all shy… not when you were just getting off on me.” he said pulling his tshirt off your body. revealing your pebbled nipples.

“take your panties off then rub yourself on my thigh.” he said casually. tone sounding friendly. but still, you did what he wanted.

you had a built up pool of wetness on your undergarments. just as you went to throw them off the bed he grabbed them.

he gave you questionable eyes until you were on his thigh again. your weight returning onto him.

not breaking eye contact not once, he brought your thong up to his nose, taking a deep breath.

disgusting.

“oh cmon babe you can’t look at me like that you have no right!” he laughed throwing your panties away from him. you laughed with him.

his comedic demeanor gone in a second, he dropped his head to your ear whispering.

“i wanna watch you get off on my thigh. no joke. so.. do. it.” he spat. not sounding mean. just demanding.

he gave you a sympathetic smile, returning his hands to your waist. you started your action once again. fully naked and needy.

your heat rubbed on him. you looked pathetic.

every now and then his mouth would find your boob. teasing you. nipping at your skin.

as you got closer he picked up on it. hardening his thigh again, and using one of his hands to pinch at your clit.

rubbing small circles into the showing flesh.

his other hand found your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. you moaned into his mouth.

“your so pretty.” he mumbled. you grinned softly.

up and back, up and back, you hips rolled against his thigh.

faster and faster.

you moaned out chasing your release.

“cmon cum on my thigh..” he whispered to you, his eyes not leaving where you connected.

and so you did.

“fuckkk… kirishima!” you moaned out. head falling back.

he kept his arms on your body. as you slowly grew limp.

he shook his head with satisfaction. eating up every second of what he was seeing.

“oh my god! kiriiii” you dragged out.

“next time just ask baby” he said to you. laughing at your fucked our expression.

next time you might just ask..

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

….

i’m madly in love with him.

bye.

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moldygreenblue · 11 months ago

Text

a meeting with a man in white spats

(In which two men meet each other a pub, and conversation occurs.)

I was lunching one day at The Princess Louise,

When I passed some remark to a man in white spats

Who had ordered a plate of fried gammon and peas,

So we soon fell to talking of thisses and thats—

“May I ask why you’re searching for a new flat?”

Mr. Faber sets down his fork and knife onto his plate, and dabs the napkin onto his mouth. Once his face is clean, Mr. Faber picks up his glass of port wine, swirls it around, and takes a small sip. He then gives out a refreshing sigh, and set his glass down.

“Not at all,” replies Thomas, picking up his own gin and tonic from the coaster. He takes a long slip before continuing. “Something you need to know right away is that I quite like my flat mate. I’m not searching for a new flat because I despise him. We knew each other since our university days, and we remained friends since graduation. But we never lived together until six years back. We weren’t in relationships at the time, and two people paying rent makes thing easier, you know? 50/50 split payment of everything.”

“Completely understandable of an arrangement.”

“A year ago, my friend met someone. The girl of his dreams, if I have to describe her. Even the way they met came can be describe as love at first sight. But I digress. A few weeks back, he proposed to her. I even help set up the proposal.”

“Sounds like you are a candidate on being the best man.”

Thomas laughs, and sets his gin and tonic down back on the coaster. “Very likely candidate. Now, even though she spent a night or two at the flat —and vice versa with him at her place— the idea of them living together never crossed their minds until recently. It’s a good thing that our flat has two bedrooms, and not one.”

“But you have your own bedroom, and your friend and his fiancée have theirs. What is the problem?” Mr. Faber leans back against his chair, his curled-up hand underneath his chin.

“The problem is that I’m a third wheel,” says Thomas. “They don’t want to admit it, especially my flat mate, but I know that they know that I’m disrupting their new lifestyle. I freshen up at times when she needs to freshen up, or I accidentally use the food they bought to make my meals. I won’t even start on the time I barge into my flat mate’s room and interrupt…activities.”

Thomas gives a sigh, and places his elbow on the table. He then rests his head onto his hand. “Pardon my impolite table manners, but my search for a flat within my price range is worser than it was six years ago. And I can’t ask my sister to let me live with her. Her flat is big enough only for herself and her pet cat. If it was bigger, I would consider her as a potential option.”

“Your sister having a cat is not an issue to your dilemma?” Mr. Faber raises an eyebrow.

“No issue at all. I quite like cats.”

Mr. Faber doesn’t say anything. Instead, the old man drops his hand, and smiles. Thomas can see a twinkle in Mr. Faber’s eyes.

Thomas isn’t sure how he should interpret it.

“Well Mr. Stephens,” says Mr. Faber as he smiles, and it’s very feline of a smile, “I confide right now to being a jack of all trades, but I am at present an agent for small furnished flats. And I do think I can help you out, in fact…”

#cats musical #cats the musical #cats 1998 #old possum's book of practical cats #fanfic #fan fiction #the man over there #the man in white spats #i combine the unknown man from 'pollicle dogs and jellicle cats' with tmot from the musical because they are similar to one another:#not knowing what is a jellicle cat (and pollicle dog) and getting an explanation of it #also i guess this is how tmot got his flat over the junkyard in my headcanon to throw the boot.

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sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months ago

Text

Praise [König]

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Masturbation, Perverted König, Age Gap, Legal Age Gap, Lowkey Gooner König just minus the Porn, No-Rizz König, Panty Flashing, Praise Kink, Reader Wears a Skirt, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

König fucking himself absolutely silly after you helped him discover he has a praise kink.

It had been just a simple “Wow, you’ve done a good job with that shelf!” as you stood by and watched him repair your bookcase that had König fisting his cock like it owed him money.

König huffed amidst the darkness of his desolate apartment, leaning against the wall which separated your abode from his as his hand worked furiously to exorcise himself of his carnal lust, of the heaviness in his engorged ballsack.

He could hear the creaking of floorboards as you meandered from one room to another. The only sounds in König’s apartment were his muted breaths and the wet noise of him fisting himself, his hand slick and sticky with the layers of pre you’d already coaxed from him, his balls growing tighter by the second as his release lay just shy of reach.

He whimpered – gasped – as he recalled the way you smiled at him, how you pressed a hand to his bulging bicep and told him to take a break, giving a glass of freshly-squeezed lemonade to your ‘hard-working man’.

He moaned, lewd and low, as white-hot euphoria shot straight to the head of his dick, setting his body buzzing and ablaze, cracking his resolve ever more. You’d called him yours. Your man.

God, he wanted that so badly to be true. He’d repair a thousand bookshelves if he had to, fix a million burst pipes and bleed as many radiators as you needed if it meant you’d call him yours again, or just touch him.

As he’d sat back upon your dainty sofa and had a drink, you’d bent over – just for him – and given him a perfect look at your panties. You complimented his work, inspecting the shelf. All the while, König damn-near spat out his drink, the fizz burning the back of his nose as he coughed and spluttered.

Already, he felt all the blood rush from his head to his cock.

You bolted up to check on him, and if it weren’t for your hands touching his face and the soft swoop of your voice, König would’ve probably slapped himself for depriving himself of the sight of you in that short skirt.

Fuck, he felt like a lecherous old man, especially considering how there was a definite age gap between the two of you. But König couldn’t convince himself of remorse – not as his orgasm drew closer still.

The fantasy – or perhaps it was his heaving breaths, hyperventilation – of having you completely at his mercy in your own home left him light-headed, his reddened and bulbous tip pulsating. König could scarcely form a coherent thought as his orgasm came hurtling towards him.

The wet sound of him throttling himself, stroking his dick languidly, was drowned out by his desire for what could’ve happened if he’d willed it, if he’d pounced on you – the opportunity – to prove just how much of a man he could be for you.

But no, instead of grabbing you and bending you over the nearest surface – ideally your bookcase just so he could break it all over again – he’d given an anxious laugh, a quiet ‘thanks’ for your hospitality and went on his way when the job was complete.

Fucking idiot.

Though, you did leave him one ‘in’, as it were. You offered him a favour – any favour – in return for his services since he declined any form of payment you’d offered him.

He can taste it. The parallel reality wherein he pounds on your apartment door, only to push his way inside and leave you breathless with wet, tongue-filled kisses as he takes you against the wall, stretching you out on a cock that’s far too big for you. But you take it anyway, because you owe him.

The phantom sensation of your wet, wanting hole pulsating around his weeping cock is what finishes König off, moaning loudly and shooting thick ropes of semen against the wall – the only thing separating the two of you. The only thing saving you from his hot, fertile load.

He can feel it pumping out of him, his balls growing lighter by the second as he empties himself thoroughly and completely. He gives himself a few shallow strokes as to prolong the feeling of release, of a most carnal pleasure, whilst imagining what it would feel like to be filling you with his cum.

He knows he’ll have to clean it up later, but it’s not even a priority for him right now as he comes down, the world eventually reloading around him.

Sure, perhaps the post-nut clarity will hit later as he’s wiping his cum off the wall and mopping up the puddle he’s created, but right now, all König can see is you – all he can think and feel is you.

Barely a few minutes pass before he’s hard again, the memory of your voice intrusive as he simply tries to catch his breath.

Perhaps he will pay you a quick visit. He reckons you’ll be more than willing to make good on your repayment – especially with what a good job he’d done on your bookshelf.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad X

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maskedbyghost · 27 days ago

Text

Shadows of Obsession

TW: stalking, home invasion, emotional manipulation, obsessive behavior, Simon in his stalker era

The first bouquet of lilies appeared on her doorstep two months ago, crisp and white, with no note attached. At first, she thought it was a mistake. Maybe a neighbor’s anniversary or a delivery error. She even asked around, but no one claimed them.

The second bouquet arrived the following Friday, just as pristine and silent.

By the fifth, unease began to settle in.

Then came the notes.

The handwriting was precise, the words simple: “You looked beautiful today.” “The world doesn’t deserve your kindness.” “I see you.”

She told yourself it was harmless, a misguided admirer, nothing more. But deep down, she knew better. Each note felt like a pair of eyes on her back, a shadow stretching too close.

Simon was the last person she suspected.

She didn’t know him well—no one did. He was a phantom, his face always hidden beneath that mask. She’d worked with him a handful of times, enough to catch glimpses of a sharp mind and a colder demeanor. He was a man of few words, fewer smiles, and no visible vulnerabilities.

Yet somehow, he had decided she were his.

It started subtly: a fleeting glance that lingered too long, his voice softening when he spoke her name. Then the coincidences—running into him during her evening walks, finding him already at the café she frequented. Always nearby, always watching.

She tried to ignore it, brushing off the unease with excuses. But tonight, all those excuses evaporated.

She woke to silence, the kind that presses down on her chest and suffocates. Something was wrong. Her apartment, usually filled with the ambient hum of life, felt still.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, scanning the room. The shadows were where they should be, the clutter untouched. Yet the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

And then she heard it: a faint creak of a floorboard, too deliberate to be a trick of the wind.

Her pulse surged as she reached under her pillow, fingers brushing against the knife she’d started keeping there. She slipped out of bed, her movements careful, her breathing shallow.

The hallway stretched before her, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the blinds. She followed the sound, each step a battle against the growing dread coiling in your stomach.

When she reached the living room, she froze.

Simon stood there, his skull mask catching the faint light. He was utterly still, a predator who had been waiting for his prey to notice him.

“Simon,” she breathed, the name heavy with disbelief and fear.

He turned slowly, his movements measured. His hands hung at his sides, empty, but his presence was suffocating.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he said, his voice low, almost regretful.

Her grip tightened on the knife. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

He took a step toward her, his head tilting as if she’d asked a question he didn’t quite understand. “Keeping you safe.”

“By breaking in?!” Her voice shook, anger and fear warring within you.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his tone soft. “You don’t see how exposed you are. How vulnerable. The world isn’t kind to people like you.”

Her stomach churned. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? The flowers, the notes—they were from you.”

Simon didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze boring into her. “Everything I’ve done was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” you spat. “You’re the one I need protecting from!”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, something flickered behind the mask—hurt, maybe. “I’d never hurt you,” he said firmly.

“Then leave.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost pleading. “You don’t understand, love. I see what’s out there. I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t have someone looking out for them. You need me.”

“No, I don’t!” Her voice cracked, but the knife in her hand didn’t waver.

Simon’s gaze dropped to the blade, then back to her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped closer. She pressed herself against the wall, the cold seeping into her skin.

“You won’t use that,” he said. “You don’t need to. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin. “You will.”

The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud. She didn’t know whether to scream, fight, or collapse under the realization that Simon wasn’t going anywhere.

part 2

---------------------------------------------

what do we think babess??

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley #simon riley

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bluerosefox · 1 year ago

Text

Courting Chaos (to Balance)

A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.

Leaving with a

"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"

And fire and chaos in his wake.

While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.

When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.

"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."

"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.

-x-x-

So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.

Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.

Very simple.

Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.

Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.

And Balance.

Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.

Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.

It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.

Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.

He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.

Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.

Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.

All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.

High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)

Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)

It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.

Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...

Yeah not good.

Only...

Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.

And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.

-x-x-

"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."

".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."

"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #KlarionxDanny #ngl kinda based Klarion crushing off how my parents meet #they were at a party due to their siblings and my ma mentioned she was walking around and heard my dad's laughter above everyone's #said she really liked his laugh and found him at the party #very loosely based on my ma getting her crush on my dad #anyways Klarion is crushing hard #he cant ask Ellie though. He may have just meet her but he can sense shes gonna be a gremlin about it #so he goes to the one person he knows is a in a relationship! in the modern age too!#only he kidnaps Tim and well...#chaos #meanwhile Danny gushes to his friends about a cute chaos lord he spotted at the meeting #he wants to talk to him but Ellie is being a troll and not telling him anything about her new friend

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mariespen · 10 months ago

Text

Pretty Girl ˚. ୭୧ .˚

daddy issues!reader x rafe cameron .˚ summary: "His girl, only his, sobbing in his arms." warnings: major daddy issues!, very mild mentions of verbal/physical abuse, shared trauma

based on this request!

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The bright ping on your phone shone throughout the dark bedroom like a discreet warning.

You got up to check it, a small and exhausted smile on your face.

Rafe recognized the way your eyes saddened, slowly becoming more droopy and cursing your cheeks as if they were pulling you down with them. He looked at your face like it was a mirror. He watched you try to block every thought out of your head, try to put the phone down and run back into the warm arms of your boyfriend.

“Hey..” Rafe whispered, his voice deep and scratchy from the morning sun.

You let out the smallest sniffle, wiping your eyes and hesitantly putting your phone back down. You turned to him, looking at him like the world was weighing down on your shoulders.

The eye contact made Rafe’s eyes glossy with the reminder that the two of you really weren’t all that different. He couldn’t stand the idea that another man was hurting his little girl.

You let yourself collapse into his arms, feeling them wrap around you and rest on your tense body. He sighed, burying his face into your messy hair and pressing you further into him.

Rafe didn’t need telepathy to know what that text said, he didn’t need anything but his own personal experience, but he wanted to see it word for word. He held you closer, keeping his grip tight as a weak attempt to distract you from his arm reaching over to take your phone from the night stand. He felt lucky when you didn’t stir, just clung onto him in understanding.

He started to open your phone to gain an alternate understanding, but he felt his heart break when you started shaking in his arms. His girl, only his, sobbing in his arms.

“My love..” He whispered, dropping your phone somewhere on the bed and holding you with both arms again.

Your sobs shook your shoulders and he realized that he didn’t need to know what that message said at all. Rafe needed to be next to you, he needed to kiss your tears away, he needed you to look at him with nothing but love and trust.

“Talk to me, princess.” He spoke into your hair, planting an encouraging kiss on the crown of your head.

“Can’t..” You sobbed, clutching tighter onto him.

Sleep clouded your senses, safety replacing the white-hot feeling of dread as he kissed your forehead like you were made of only porcelain and glass rather than the harsh reality of bones and blood.

Rafe woke up with your soft skin pressing into his tense body. It was hard sleeping knowing that your tears stained his chest. You stirred in his arms and he strained his neck down to kiss your cheek gently, pulling back up to relax into the plush pillows.

His hand found its way from the warm confines of your hair and down your neck, stopping at the base of your back. Rafe drew up your shirt just enough to slot his fingers under, scratching your back to the beat of the thoughts in his head.

Reflections and recollections of his father’s angry shouts flooded his mind. Every word attacked him and latched onto him almost the same as they had when he was nothing but a child. He was stronger now, stronger than the words his father spat at him and the fist that same man had thrown at him.

Rafe worked quietly to take hold of your phone again. He didn’t bother reading your father’s small and dismissive texts. On an impulse, Rafe instantly found the block button and deleted his contact. He cleared all of your tabs, feeling a pang of guilt course through him. That quickly disappeared.

The soft shaking of Rafe’s body woke you up. He muttered something but you couldn’t hear the detail of his voice. Instead, you hiked one of your legs up onto his abdomen and let your head bury itself into his side. You gave him a squeeze, emitting a small chuckle from him.

“G’morning, princess.” He said, brushing a hand through your hair as a strong, protective urge blanketed him.

Rafe felt safe when you felt safe. He felt at peace when you did and he felt protected when you felt the same. His happiness was solely in your hands and you were clueless, at least he thought you were.

“Morning..” You yawned into him, starting to fall back asleep in his warm embrace.

Rafe kissed you softly, pulling you upright and brushing the strands of hair away from your face.

“Gotta get up.. important business today.” He said with a higher pitch to his voice that made your heart melt.

You pouted and nodded as Rafe got out of bed and retrieved the outfit he had picked out for you yesterday. He began to get ready, checking on you once and seeing that you were still in bed, slowly falling asleep on your own terms.

Rafe walked over to you, sitting next to you and picking up your head to lay on his lap. His fingers lazily tangled into your hair as he spoke to you.

“C’mon baby, time to get ready.” Rafe’s voice bordered a whisper while he sat you upright again.

“M’kay..” You answered groggily.

You dramatically got out of bed, a protesting pout shading your face as he chuckled at your stubborn features. The ice of your tired chest broke when he kissed you and warmed your entire body with pastel-red love.

Getting ready was never a chore when Rafe was next to you. His company had never shied away from you and he made sure to attach you to his hip at all times.

“You look gorgeous, princess.” He said, kissing your glossy lips deeply enough to steal some right from your face. He wiped his mouth with a laugh, settling on your forehead. He stooped down to kiss the perch of your face before helping you up.

“Really?” You asked with a bright smile. His eyes softened at your question, noticing a hint of doubt lining your features.

“I’d never lie to you, sweetheart.” He whispered to you, capturing your lips in a quick kiss before pulling away to admire the way blush flares up your face.

You nodded, never being amazing at receiving compliments but you couldn’t deny how his words made your whole heart melt into a puddle inside of your ribs. Rafe pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face.

“You’re my girl, m’always gonna think you’re pretty. Won’t ever give up on you, a’ight?”

Tears brimmed your waterline as he forced you to hold eye contact with his softening eyes.

“I got you, pretty girl.”

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