#these really are just gonna be so simple for my own pleasure

[satorena]

#INTRO2MUNCH101

summ. when suguru “eat it off the bone” geto actually turns out to be suguru “flaps the left lip until she calls it a night” geto, he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew about his skills. . . talk about a rude awakening.

cw. explicit content. foul language. fem!reader. college!au. eventual smut (but not in the way you think. . .) mild modern lingo. allusions to music artists. cunningulūs. male masturbation. reader has a belly piercing. she’s also depicted mean by the boys. gojo cameos bc i can’t not mention him. tattoo artist!geto. substance consumption. lowkeyyy self-indulgent reader. 10k wc.

rena's note. this is a spin-off to p power, so i’d suggest reading that first to understand the correlation!

suguru geto is a simple man.

your pleasure is his pleasure. he’s always prided himself on being a pro at the art of cunningulus. honest— he’s always left with swollen lips, a heavily sprayed face and a solid five star ratings at the end of his work. his jaw feels tired out, scalp burning from consistent hair tugs, and his breathing uneven from lack of oxygen. but at the feel of plush thighs squeezing his face and the repetition of his name flowing into the air before getting squirted on, he remembers it’s always worth it.

no pain no gain, right?

wrong.

because here he finds himself, a hefty hour in since he first dove in between your soft legs, and there’s been absolutely no development. sprawled on your back on his sheets, arm slung over your eyes, and your breathing even. you look fucking bored, and his heart is sinking to his ass.

geto will use every trick he has in the book. he’s noticed overtime that girls have different bodies, therefore he needs different tactics to stimulate those bodies. he nips at your puffy bud, sucking on your clit for external pleasure. no use. fine, then he’ll push your thighs up some more for a deeper penetration of his fingers in your cunt— still no use. the only sounds being produced are his mouth slipping against his own saliva at your pussy because he can’t even get you wet enough.

the pit in his stomach grows larger. he wonders if maybe you’re just the silent type? he’s come across those before.

he’s getting nervous out of his mind, so shaky and uncoordinated that his hand slips and meets your lips for the umpteenth time— and only then do you release a guttural groan, the very first sound you’ve made in a long ass time. wait—

“did. . . did you cum?” he pants, pulling his sticky lips away from yours. his face feels moist, blood rushing all in his head and he’s lightheaded. but still, he has to know.

you push yourself up to your elbows, annoyance clear as day. he’s yet to seen this look on a girl after pulling every card known on the table, “yeah. . . to the wrong fucking house.”

oh fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

he first spotted you chatting it up with your friends on the school’s soccer field, on a random tuesday afternoon, and he’s been hooked on you ever since.

the universe played a funny game, and he realized university truly is a small ass world. amongst your friends, he noticed a familiar face. one he’s been hearing and seeing of one too many times lately, on multiple separate and traumatic occasions— gojo’s girlfriend. suguru found himself bonding with her due to their familiar point of interest— that being gojo— and believes he can now make of her a friend.

geto watches his best friend’s eyes shimmer and he flashes his infamous million dollar smile. he really is obsessed with his girlfriend and she doesn’t even know— and geto finds himself wishing he had somebody he’d be this ecstatic over. must be nice.

“i’m gonna go say hi to my girl real quick,” gojo taps at his shoulder, and geto nods. he’s cool on it, he’ll wait back here until he’s done, or can make his way to his next class depending on whatever gojo and his girlfriend arrange. “you comin’?”

“i’m probably gonna head to our next lecture.” geto voices out, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. he feels gojo peeking over his shoulder, in which he assumes to verify if that would be necessary.

over forty-five minutes. damn it.

“that’s mad pointless, class doesn’t start till more than half an hour,” gojo says, and geto doesn’t see himself waiting around that long for a lecture. no way, “just come— her friends are chill.”

fuck it, he goes. naturally, gojo is all over his girl and her friends expect it. geto does give them a little wave when gojo introduces him. one of the girls mention having heard of him through a friend— something about a failed talking stage. mad federal, and the sheepish chuckle geto offers when you give him an unreadable look makes him want to crawl into a ditch.

so now you think he’s a whore. awesome.

and gojo’s smirk definitely doesn’t help him out. he doesn’t help out at all actually, so enamoured by his girlfriend that he leaves geto to fend for himself against a pack of wolves (read: nosy girls). he replies only when spoken to, nods when necessary and throws in a few “that’s crazy,” to which the girls fail to pick up he’s out of words to say.

well, everyone except you.

you’re quiet. in fact, the whole time, you haven’t said shit to him. you sit back and observe, occasionally typing on your macbook, or reapplying your lip combo. you didn’t have any words to say to him. even when your friends would talk to you, you gave them short answers and went back to listening to whatever was playing in your airpods. he could tell from that small interaction alone, you were the mean one out of your clique.

and fuck if that didn’t make him want you more. there was just something about mean women that made him want to break through their fake ass exteriors and watch them turn all soft and chummy for him.

blame it on his corruption kink.

gojo confirms his thoughts when they’re finally on their way to class. he kissed his girl goodbye and waved off her friends, to which they all (minus you) collectively cooed, “byeee gojooo!” which he found odd, but kept silent. he gave them a small nod before following his best friend.

they’re a few steps in the science building when the words slip before he can help it, ultimately cutting gojo’s rambling off, “yo, who was that girl?”

gojo glances at him before chuckling, “there was like seven of ‘em. which one?”

“the quiet one.”

it throws him off guard when gojo laughs hard. like, really hard. it attracts the attention of bystanders, who give him a crazy look but gojo ignores. as if they’d try to press him about his volume— the two were pretty adored around campus.

geto does find his reaction quite interesting, to which he cocks a brow and offers a chuckle of his own, “what?”

“oh, you definitely mean y/n,” when his laughter dies down, he finally answers. he lifts his shades to his hairline to swipe a tear. “she’s mean as fuck, bro.”

“right?!” geto laughs, tapping at gojo’s shoulder. it only charges gojo’s laughing fit back up, “i could tell from her vibe. she gives off those ‘men ain’t shit’ girlies on twitter. whole time, she’s probably laid up in bed with one.”

“you don’t even knowww,” gojo holds his shoulder and shakes him a bit. geto does in fact know, because he’s dealt with girls like her before. they’re always a good ass time. “she does men dirty. like, absolutely dogs them. heard one phone call too many.”

oh? even better than he expected. she’s probably the type that used to love hard before getting her heart trampled on and decided to seek revenge on all men. like, on some jennifer’s body shit. geto can’t help but smirk, “lemme see for myself. put me on.”

gojo falters in his step. his grip on geto’s shoulders loosen and his expression changes— not by much, but the once lighthearted smile switches to a skeptical one, “you serious?”

geto lets out a soft sigh, shrugging gojo’s hands off his shoulders. “don’t start asking too much. i did a favour for you and your girl, didn’t i?,” well, technically speaking it wasn’t like his comment had been the deciding factor for the two, but it did open gojo’s eyes. “you owe me one.”

“i don’t owe you shit,” gojo laughs, throwing his arm around geto anyways, “buuut you’re my boy and i’m not stingy. i’ll see what i can do, i know you’ve been getting a lil jealous of wifey and i.”

“shut the fuck up.” geto’s chuckles contradict his statement.

from that point on, it’s smooth sailing. gojo texts his girl asking if she’s seeing anybody. they have a little back and forth because his girlfriend assumes he’s asking for himself— which gojo gets all dramatic and throws geto under the bus for free. welp! it all worked out anyway since after he and gojo parted, you’d thought he was fine shyt. judging from your character, he doesn’t exactly take gojo’s words for what they are.

but he’ll take the opening, it’s as good as any.

time to plot.

☆ ☆ ☆

the second encounter was purely coincidental. and simultaneously embarrassing.

see, geto prides himself on his mysterious act— granted he was anything but. people see all that is gojo and automatically assume that geto has to be the cool one. it creates a perfect balance, no?

haven’t people heard of birds of a feather flock together?

so yes, he’s also a nerd. he typically enjoys spending his wednesday afternoons at dice board cafes because why not. it’s a chill, lowkey joint right off campus and not a lot of people gravitate towards, therefore the perfect spot to camp out before his evening lecture.

besides, his buddy choso works there and it gets him discounts. it isn’t the only reason he shows up, but it does help a lot on his pockets. being a student is awful, financially.

geto sips on his choco latte through a straw, browsing through the board games pamphlet as he decides what he’s going to play today. most of these games are pretty pointless if he doesn’t have an opponent, but he likes to think it helps develop his iq. he hears avenoir playing through the cafe and knows choso’s on aux.

who else could be playing this toxic ass shit?

he’s torn choosing between snakes and ladders or chess when he hears chimes at the front door, signalling somebody’s entered the establishment. he doesn’t think much of it, going on about minding his business when he hears choso say your name.

the latte enters the wrong tube and he chokes.

geto collects himself quickly, wiping any stray liquid past his mouth as his head snaps up. you’re propped up against the counter, and though he can’t see your face, he definitely recognizes your build. . . okay, yeah that sounds fucking pervy but if he stalked your page a few times, who’s business is it but his own? it’s not like you’d know. granted, he had got caught up liking one of your older photos but he took the like right back!

he debates on walking up to you. how would that even work without seeming desperate? you’ve been checking out all of his boxes so far— your face, body and attitude (question mark) are all tens. he does want to get to know you— at least be somebody in your life. but damn, why is he overthinking this? all he has to get up there and sweet talk you. he’s done this shit before.

“yo, suguru!”

shit.

purple orbs shift towards where his name was called, and lo and behold, there stands choso. and naturally, you look back to who was summoned, but god— social media does not do your face justice. he last seen you about a week ago, and had nothing but your instagram and his memory to rely on.

he makes his way to the counter and ignores you. doesn’t spare you a glance once— though he stands right at your side and watches you watching him through his peripheral. he nods at choso, “what’s up?”

choso, ever the genius, flicks his eyes between geto and you, before clearing his throat, “shoko just texted— somethin’ about a new client. how’s the studio looking?”

“booked all week,” geto answers truthfully, and he notices you’ve shifted your gaze, “little to no openings. why though?”

choso hums, jolting down online orders into a little notebook, “not even for a special friend?”

geto squints his eyes at that. there isn’t anybody he’d call a special friend that hasn’t already been booked or wouldn’t have his number to squeeze in an appointment. granted, he is a dnd warrior but even his friends know of that quirk of his, “depends. who’s the special friend?”

“me.” and he feels his heart skip a beat. fuck. he tilts his head over to the side, and good lord, your face card gave every girl on campus runs for their money. seriously, your facial features complimented you in a way that told aphrodite— the textbook definition of beauty— to go fuck herself, and hard.

“oh?” geto cocks a brow, and lets his eyes roam up and down your frame. shameless, yes, but he has a reputation to uphold. your rest in face makes his own look like child’s play, “didn’t realize we were on special friends basis.”

you click your tongue, “didn’t realize we were on lurking spam accounts but pretend we don’t exist the next day basis either,” you quip right back, picking at the white bow glued to your acrylics.

sassy. geto chuckles, now fully turning his body around to face you. you match his movements, and he toys with a ring on his middle finger, “guess you got me all figured out,” he pauses, shifting his gaze to choso, who’s already eyeing him. “sounds like you wanted me to reach out.”

“boy please,” you scoff, pausing your nail inspection. you let your hand hang, “you choked earlier because you heard my name. that corny nonchalant act isn’t the flex you’re thinking it is,” a huff escapes your lips, and geto feels blood rushing to his face. “your lurking ass was months deep into my page just a week ago— did you find any men ain’t shit vibes from the photo dump?”

choso stifles a laugh, and when geto looks at him, it dies into a cough. well damn, you really didn’t hold anything back. read him like a book actually— and it doesn’t help that gojo can’t keep his mouth shut for shit. it widens the grin on his face. he thinks he likes you.

“well,” geto smirks, “can’t say i have— means there’s still an opening.”

you furrow your brows, “oh? an opening to what exactly?”

“an appointment, of course,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. his locks are getting in his face, but the messy look always gets him compliments. might as well shoot his shot, “you know. . .” leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, “for a special friend.”

his double entendre definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you. he watches how, despite the mean mugging, there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. you’re squinting just slightly, almost as if you were weighing out the pros and cons. geto won’t break the eye contact first— he’s on a mission. he hopes the tired eyes look will be on his side this time.

tattoo or dick appointment— he would one hundred percent make an opening for you. anything to get his hands on your body.

“are we still talking about the tattoo parlour or . . .”

both you and he turn to choso, who’s watching the situation unfold. just count on him to ruin the mood, whether the obliviousness was feigned or not. choso tightens his brows at the look geto shoots him, “what?”

“i’m gonna head out,” you grab at your handbag, hopping of the seat. nicely played choso. you gather your items and slip them in your purse, sliding a few bucks across the counter. choso grabs the bills and stick them in the tip jar, nodding at her. “catch you in poly sci?”

“if you don’t skip again.” choso snorts and you flip him off, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you turn on your heel and make your way towards the exit, ultimately dismissing geto. that doesn’t feel too nice, he should probably stop that bad habit.

he rises to his feet before he can help it. his hand grabs at your wrist and notices how much smaller it seems in comparaison to his, and he hates the next words that leave his mouth, “what about me?”

you glance down at his hold on you, before looking back up at him, “what about you?” your face says everything your lips haven’t— you’re getting the ick.

he wants to wince. okay, yeah that was corny, “when do i get to see you?”

you drag out a mini hum, your gaze dancing over his silver chain around his collarbone, “dunno. you have my socials so i assume in the next hour.”

he tilts his head to the side, and the pad of his thumb grazes over your smooth skin. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your hand stiffens under his touch, “so if i slide in your dms in the next hour, i can expect an answer?”

a snort leaves your chest, and he can’t tell if it’s a condescending one or an amused one. what he does know, however, is that he’s going to be seeing you sometime soon. you take your hand back into your possession before laying it in the dead centre of his chest, pushing him back just slightly, “i’ll see you around, geto.”

his eyes trail over your figure, every step you take out of the establishment, slightly starstruck by the entirety of you— your boldness. the thrill he was beginning to feel felt like a high. he hasn’t met anybody this entertaining in a while.

“you’re so fucking corny.” he thinks he hears choso insult him from behind. he doesn’t pay him any mind, despite the middle finger that tips towards the ceiling. partynextdoor blasts in the cafe, specifically freak in you, and he hates how he finds himself relating to the lyrics,

room full of beautiful women but he only wants one.

☆ ☆ ☆

“you stalking me, pretty?”

“sure,” you nod your head, raking through the items on the clothing rack. you don’t spare him a single glance, picking a top off the rack and inspecting it, “if stalking means visiting the busiest thrift store on the busiest hour in the busiest city.”

geto lets out a small laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargos. you make him feel like a nuisance, like he’s a pest wasting your time. ironic, seeing as he wasn’t that much of a bother just last night, when you’d been indulging him in your inbox, “of course you’re the thrifting type.”

you pause your actions, price tag in your fingers as you side eye him through locks of your hair, “and you’re not?”

“didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart.” geto shrugs, pulling off a cropped baby tee and bringing towards you. it has sequins sewn in the material, the gems writing out juicy couture. “this would suit you— belly piercing and whatnot.”

the top is cute, there was no denying so. a pretty shade of pink that suited your complexion, but letting his ego inflate bigger than it already was out of the question. he could tell your thought process from the judgmental look you offered, “oh god—you’re one of those fake ass, streetwearing fashionistas, aren’t you?”

geto blinks a few times, before letting out a sincere laugh. he’s been called a multitude of things before, but that one was new, “you got all that from me suggesting you buy this juicy couture tee? don’t all girls fiend over this vintage shit?”

“it’s that corny ass personality of yours,” you grab the shirt, throwing it in your cart. he wants to make a comment on that, but you beat him to the chase, “the phoney nonchalant act, the streetwear, your insta aesthetic— you’re so scripted.”

“my insta aesthetic?” he repeats, and doesn’t miss a step to catch up to you. your hands are back on the handle of your shopping cart, and if the way his elbows bump into your shoulders bothers you, you don’t make point in commenting on it. “who’s the lurker now, hm?”

you roll your eyes, pushing the strolley ahead, “don’t let it get to your big ass head. your feed screams you’re those toxic ass brent faiyaz wannabes,” he watches your fingertips rake through more clothings that pass your way, before you shoot him a glance, “let me guess— he showed on your spotify wrapped.”

his silence speaks volumes, and you click your tongue, “see? scripted.”

“and what about you?” geto counters when you make a pit stop. you pull away from your cart when a denim skirt catches your eye. you lift the skirt up to your eyes, before looking over your shoulder, cocking a brow.

“what about me?”

“the tweet reposts, the song choices for your highlights, the whole spiritual baddie persona,” he presses behind you, his chest meeting your back. he rests his chin atop your head, purple eyes landing on the clothing article that’s lowering in your hold, “if my page gives brent then yours definitely gives jhene.”

you’re mute for a second, and you chuck the skirt into the cart. you pull away from beneath him, spinning on your feet to face him, and you’ve got a scowl on your lips, “what’s wrong with jhene?”

“and you call me the toxic one.” geto pokes at your cheek. you swipe his hand away, and he laughs, “don’t get me wrong though— she makes good music. but let’s not act like she’s all innocent either,” his gaze lowers to your glossy lips, the fullness of the pair hypnotic, “a real freak. should i call you my pussy fairy?”

“do not,” you reply, weaving around him to make your way back to your cart. geto laughs, snatching a few things of the racks before dumping them in your stuff. you give him a deadpanned look and he whistles it off, feigning ignorance. “jhene’s a lovergirl. thought i was part of the men ain’t shit community.”

“you’re not gonna let that go, are you?” geto sighs. he owes gojo another thump in the head.

you roll your eyes, “thank your homeboy for that.”

“two things can be true at once,” geto fiddles with the hem of his jacket. he’s back at walking step by step with you, and you haven’t told him to fuck off yet, so he’s going to milk the opportunity out. “you’re mean but a lovergirl. you hate men but a real freak with them. right or wrong?”

you halter in your steps, and geto’s now a few steps ahead of you, so he looks over his shoulder to meet your bored expression, “i know you’re not trying to read me in the middle of value village.”

“no better time than the present,” he smiles, one that creases a dimple in his cheeks. “come on up— what are you waiting for?”

you stare at him some more, inhaling sharply, “mind you, i never invited you to join me,” you shake your head but comply regardless. cute, looks like you’re enjoying his company more than you’re letting on.

so he graces you his presence some more. he shops along with you, sneaks clothes into your cart when you’re distracted and asks you stupid questions. it’s a good time— to him at least, being able to get to know you some more without interruptions. naturally, you feign that his company is the bane of your existence, but he doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips when he taps his card into the reader at the check out.

hell yeah he’s got money to spend and is willing to show off if it means getting on your good side.

it’s only after he helps you bag your shit into your car, that he realizes this is where the both of you part ways. it annoys him slightly, but he doesn’t need to overstep his boundaries. he closes your trunk and makes his way to the driver’s side, where you’re already buckled up.

he taps at your window and the glass rolls down all the way, to which he leans forward. he’s in your line of sight now and you sigh, tilting your head sideways, “what?”

“do i get a goodbye kiss?” geto teases, honest, the boyish smirk he offers accentuating the playful undertone. the last thing he expects is you shifting in your seat, pushing yourself up and peaking your head out the window.

his smirk drops, brows jumping to his hairline. you’re really fucking close now, and for a split second he thinks you’re actually going to do it. he can see the flecks of colours swimming in your orbs, the tip of your nose bumps into his and your breath fans his cupid’s bow.

fuck, you smell really good. he bets you taste even better. his mouth is running dry, mindlessly darting his tongue out to wet his own lips. he doesn’t realize he’s let himself lean into your space, eyes narrowing on your mouth parting over his.

he’s pulled out of his trance when two fingers press at his forehead and push. he blinks his lashes, snapping back to reality as you sit back into your seat. you look amused— as if you’d played the funniest game right in his face and he’d been the star player.

“i’ll see you around, geto.”

and you drive off.

☆ ☆ ☆

“come back in a few weeks for a checkup. we’ll make sure the healing process is running smoothly. i’ll catch you soon.”

he lets out a tired sigh when the door finally closes, slumping into his seat and shuts his eyes. he’s exhausted— having woken up early for lectures and labs to back to back appointments with clients. this time around, the parlour is always booked and busy. students find it the perfect timing to get tatted to let it heal before showing it off in the summer.

it’s smart for them but idiotic for him. midterms are up, and the only time he has to study is in between appointments. he slides off his gloves and drags his seat towards his desk, redirecting his attention focus towards the blinding screen.

he feels a headache building at his temple, sipping at his iced coffee to keep him energized. contradicting, sure, but you didn’t have the luxury to be a beggar and a chooser when you were a full time student. the parlour he ran resided in his loft apartment, on the second floor. he enjoyed the comfort of his own home, spacious room and wide windows compared to outside stores.

his cat, nanako, purrs at his feet and he feels his heart swell. if there was one weakness he had in this world, it’d be her. he picks her up from the floor, presses her at his rib cage and nuzzles his nose in her fur.

“hi baby,” geto coos, and nanako lets out a sound. he continues to coddle her, fluffing her fur and rubbing at her ears, “it’s been pretty lively in here, hasn’t it? i knowww,” he coos, and as if nanako understands his words, she makes a pitiful sound that slightly shatters his heart.

geto decides to place her on his lap, her company serving plenty of motivation as he rolls back to his desk. he grabs the remote to his built-in speakers, turning the volume higher, before locking back in. exams are full of crap, and words are starting to jumble on his screen— he’s beginning to contemplate if this education shit is even worth the stress.

he’s an hour deep in jolting notes down on his ipad when he hears a knock at his front door. he scrunches his brows and glances at his agenda— he isn’t due for an appointment until another few hours. he sits it out, starting to believe he’d maybe imagined the sound. he knows it isn’t gojo since he’s celebrating an anniversary with his girl, and any other friend would’ve called to let him know they’re outside.

probably some jehovah witness shit, he thinks to himself, fingers hovering over his speaker remote to crank the volume back up. he turns back to his laptop screen, petting nanako mindlessly when his ipad flashes an instagram notification.

yourstruly.yn: open up

he jumps to his feet, chair rolling back. nanako flies to his desk, landing on all fours as she hisses at him for his suddenness. geto grabs her and kisses her ear, “sorry baby,” before sitting her on the floor. she walks off to her mini bean bag right at the foot of his desk, and he senses an attitude coming from her.

damn, he’d forgotten he squeezed you in last night in the midst of his sweet talking. that was truly a stupid move, he was already behind on studying, and because he likes to think with his head instead of his actual head, he’d fall even further behind.

he checks around the flat— picks up stray wrappers and fixes throw pillows, arranges his sheets. he was a clean man for the most part— he had been so distracted with his studies that there wasn’t much to dirty in the first place. his candles had already been lit so he knew the place smelled fine. he’s pretty positive his loft is clean enough to leave a good first impression.

he fixes loose hairs and straightens out his hoodie and sweats. thank fuck he’d showered not too long ago— he’s beginning to understand why his mother was always so insistent on being clean in case of random pop ups.

when he does finally open the door, there you stood. it was pretty chilly outside this time around, so he wasn’t surprised by the harsh wind flowing in and the clutch of your coat in your hold. your nose began reddening, and you sniffled, scowling from the cold.

you’re so cute, he sends you a smile, “hey.”

“hi,” you replied, sniffling again. “you ever planning on letting me in?”

“dunno,” he crosses his arms over his chest. he leans against the doorframe, ignoring the way he was starting to feel the frosty wind setting in his bones, “maybe if you ask nicely.”

you shoot him a deadpanned look, “move.”

“no.” geto smiles, “try again.”

“move, now.” a small pout is starting to form on your lips. he really liked testing your patience, since it always seemed to run low. you must’ve met your match— because geto always had time to fuck around.

“close, but not quite.”

“oh my goddd,” you groan, and that’s when he decides to let up. it really is colder than a bitch outside and he’d already kept you waiting while tidying up. he lets out a chuckle when you turn to the side, “i’m leaving— too damn cold for this.”

“alright, i’m playing,” geto widens the door. you stop your movements and glare at him. he aims an arm towards the inside of his loft, “don’t go, come in.”

you grumble something beneath your breath but comply, walking right past him. he follows behind you, shutting the door close and is immediately greeted back with warmth. you slip your shoes off and place them on the rack, before stepping in further into his apartment.

he slides his hands into his sweatpants’ pockets, catching up to you in the living room. your head is tilted upwards as you inspect the place though you remain in place. he stands beside you, bumping his shoulder into your arm, “so? up to your standards?”

you’re quiet for a while, letting your eyes roam around as the words build in your mind, “it’s typical,” you shrug but don’t elaborate. you’ve been staring at an art piece he’d done first year when he was fried out of his mind. you shift your gaze back to him, “where do i put my shit?”

“you can leave it in my bedroom, if that’s fine.” geto suggests and you nod wordlessly, to which he leads you to the second floor. he’s walking up the stairs and prays he doesn’t fall flat on his face— his socks can be a real bitch sometimes.

you both make it to his bedroom, with you trailing a little behind. he grabs a hanger from his mobile clothing rack, stretching an arm out to you, “i’ll hang your jacket here.”

you slide off the coat from your frame and hand it to him, to which he hangs on the rack. you circle around his bedroom with your tote on your shoulder, while he makes his way back to next to his desk. it’s pretty quiet for the most part, besides the music playing gently in the background.

your gaze lands on the cluttered items on his desk, noticing the half empty cup of coffee, notebooks and ipad on display, “did i catch you at a bad time?”

“honestly? yeah,” geto shrugs, before motioning at your tote bag. you slip it off and hand it to him, to which he sits at his nightstand, “but it’s my fault anyway, i squeezed you in a busy time. you know how exam season gets.”

“i can always reschedule,” you offer, checking your phone screen for the date, “it’s not that deep.”

“i don’t want you to leave,” geto slumps back into his seat and heaves out a sigh. he spins the chair around to catch you giving him a flat look. he leans back in his seat and spreads his thighs, smirking, “would you stay?”

“depends. are you going to be studying?” you quip, crossing your arms back to your chest.

geto ponders on what to say next. it’s not like he doesn’t want to tatt you up, but he really is caught in a bind. he also doesn’t want you to leave— not when he’s been wanting to see you since the last time he’d seen you. does he prioritize his wants or his needs?

he hums, “i’ll do whatever you want me to.”

you roll your eyes, scoffing as you make your way to his nightstand. for a second, he thinks you’re getting ready to leave and a weird feeling of disappointment settles in his gut. instead, you grab the bag and sit on the edge of his bed, pulling out your macbook and crossing your legs.

he smiles at that, “attagirl.”

“corny.” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip as you begin typing away.

there’s a comfortable silence that fills the room. he’s back to browsing through his lecture notes, noting down valuable information and memorizing terminology. you don’t say anything either, but the sound of your nails typing at your keyboard blends well with his r&b playlist playing. sounds like you’re writing down an essay or report, depending on whatever your major is.

about half an hour into the silence, does he decide to break it. he looks over his shoulder to where you’re settled on his bed, “you good?” he checks up on you, and you let out a burnt out sigh. he knows exactly how you’re feeling.

“i guess,” you huff, twirling your necklace. your eyes are stuck on your screen, brows creasing into a scowl, “this shit is frying my brain though.”

“what are you writing?” he indulges, dropping his apple pen back onto his desk and spins in his seat to face you. maybe he’s also in due of a break— he’d rather be talking to you anyway.

“this crim report,” you answer, picking at your nail, “it’s not exactly hard but mad lengthy. i have to write a ten page report based on this article and how it contradicts societal norms.”

“ten pages?” geto whistles, rubbing at his chin. he’s settled deeper in his seat, naturally manspreading. you’re much better than him, he would’ve given up before even starting— reports were not his thing, “how far are you in?”

“i started this morning,” you hum, “so i’m four pages in.”

geto nods, “and when is it due?”

“tomorrow night.” you push your laptop off your lap. you close the screen shut and stretch out your legs, releasing a breathy moan as you relax your thighs. “i’ll do this shit later— my head’s starting to hurt.”

geto swears he’s never been so in sync in thought. he dismisses the idea of studying the second you had closed your macbook. probably a bad idea but at the moment, he couldn’t care any less, “want some entertainment?”

you cock a brow, “don’t say no stupid shit.”

“twenty one questions,” geto speaks nonetheless and finds himself beaming brightly when you scoff, “can’t a guy want to get to know you better?”

you ease yourself on his bed, slumping into his sheets as you exhale. you shift onto your side— a sinful curve at your side— tucking your knees and lean your head into your palm, “oh fuck off,” a breathless laugh and nanako makes her presence known, hopping right by you in the space between your body and the edge of the bed, “didn’t know you had a cat. she’s cute.”

“how’d you know she was a she?” geto wonders, surprised just slightly by how welcoming nanako was around you. she purred when you stroke at her fur, nuzzling further into your chest. nanako hated everyone— especially gojo, who unironically visited the most.

“instinct,” you shrugged but there’s a faint smile on your lips. not directed towards him, but his baby, “i also have a cat— he’s a fucking menace though.”

that’s one thing in common already, “like mother like son,” geto grins lazily when you flip him off mindlessly, and when you raise nanako in both your hands, he’s ready to warn you she isn’t a big fan of sudden movements— but when she mewls, the same sound she makes when geto brings home a new toy, the words die down in his throat.

he observes you both silently. you cradle nana as if she were a newborn infant, adoring and loving yet simultaneously careful and steadily. you’re cooing, calling her a sweet girl and rubbing at her ear, and nanako accepts you rather easily— too easily.

“woah.” was this those non-sexual turn ons people spoke about? for somebody so mean, you were oddly gentle with pets. he liked that— really liked that, so much that he pulls his phone out and snaps a photo of you two. but of course, because the universe loves to see him fumble, the flash goes off.

your head snaps to the side and he freezes. you narrow your eyes at him, slowly lowering nanako, “did you just—”

“so!” geto cuts you off, chucking his phone back onto his desk. it makes a loud cluttering sound, damn near knocks his drink all over, but ignores it, “my turn. what’s your cat’s name?”

“milo. and don’t cut me off—”

“milo the menace,” he cuts you off regardless, not wanting to have to decipher just what exactly possessed him to do that. he’s never done so, and he wasn’t about to explain why he’d done it just now. deflecting king! “i need to see the little guy. got any pics?”

you huff, extending a hand behind you to find your phone. when you clutch onto the device, you swing your legs off the bedside, always careful with nanako clinging to your lap. you lay her down on the floor, much to her dismay, before making your way towards him.

his eyes are stuck on your body before his mind can tell him to stop. not like it mattered much, your own eyes glued to your phone screen as you searched for the pictures he’d asked. you’ve got a matching tracksuit on— though the hoodie is cropped, thus exposing your navel piercing. he’d always had a thing for those, the pretty good jewel dangling below the button.

it didn’t help that your thong straps sat atop your waist.

he spreads his legs further open, and you stop right in between. for a moment, you’re stuck on your phone, and geto really wants to get those thighs straddling him. you look delectable— he’d pin your knees to your damn ears, sprawled on your back, and eat you out until you pleaded him to stop.

your hair was pulled back into a bun, and from this angle, he spotted scripture at the column of your neck. there was wording inked in arabic, and he made a mental note to ask you what it meant later.

geto leans back into his seat when you fold forwards, and he gets a good whiff of your vanilla scented perfume, tingling his senses in the best way, “found it?”

you nod your head, swiping through your gallery, “yeah, my bad,” you have a folder named ‘mimi’ and as expected, was filled off candid photos of your cat. he pays attention as you slide your finger on your screen, selfies of you both in the morning passing by.

“cute,” he isn’t talking about the cat, and his gaze flicks from the screen to your face. there’s still a considerate amount of space between you both, but he can see your eye colour much clearer this close up. you blink your lashes at him and he smirks, “anything else you wanna show me?”

you sniff, “don’t be gross.”

“i meant of milo,” geto definitely didn’t mean of milo. you cock a brow skeptically, and he mirrors the look, though the smile on his face grows, “what a cute lil thing,” his voice lowers and his words trail off. there’s a beat of a pause for a while, and his gaze falls on the plumpness of your lips, “you gonna let me pet your kitty?”

another beat of silence. you’re staring at his lips, and he wonders what you’re thinking. he can tell you’ve picked up on what he’s laying down (hopefully you in the next few minutes) but he can’t tell what your next move will be.

“depends. . .” a soft whisper, and he feels your breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. you flick your eyes back at him, and he finally understands the whole siren eyes shit. through lidded eyes, your stare is intense— simultaneously pulling him in closer while pushing him back. you’re toying with him, and the hand he slides up from your thigh to your ass is enough fuel. “you any good?”

he brings a second hand to the other ass cheek, and urges you onto his lap. you comply, looping your arms at the back of his neck. he feels your nails grazing at his scalp and he holds back a lethal shudder. your weight feels amazing against him— his hard on poking and making its presence well aware.

“i’d like to think i am,” he knows he is, but playing humble always goes a long way. he lets his hands run over the cup of your ass, trails back up to your hips, and slides a finger beneath the thong strap. when he snaps the material at your skin, your back arches and you press your chest against his own.

“well,” you exhale when he noses into the crook of your neck, right above your tattoo. he’s littering wet kisses at your hot skin, your taste ever so sweet against his tongue. god, you must taste divine. at your jugular, he’s able to imprint your perfume into his mind. “only one way to find out.”

geto hums at that, relishing in the way you moan at a particular suck, and focus on nibbling at that spot once more. you’re tilting your head for easier access, hips grinding against his own for better friction. your hands are soft and cautious— they trail from his nape down to his chest, and further down to his waistband.

he’s on go, ready for whatever timing you’re on. though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out by the way your fingertip traces right above his pelvis, that you’re both on the same page. he drags his lips from the column of your neck up to your jaw, and stops right above your parted lips.

he has another cocky remark on the tip of his tongue, in typical suguru fashion, but you beat him to the chase, glossy lips pressing against his. the kiss is short and definitely leaves him wanting more when you pull back as soon as you’d leaned in— but you’re a mere centimetre away.

you whisper, not before another kiss, “don’t disappoint me, suguru.”

and he’s never ran into bed so fast.

☆ ☆ ☆

the door slams shut.

he’s left with a painfully hard reminder in his sweats that he fucked up bad. he thinks he dissociated a little between the labia flapping to the coat zipping. it’s only when he notices that instead of hearing lip smacking sounds, he hears bryson tiller’s lame ass (no shade, his ego is simply wounded), that you really left.

fuck.

geto rushes back to his bedroom, the walk of shame up the steps enough to make him want to jump off— as he takes out his phone, immediately goes through his contact list and presses on the name. it rings twice before the call gets picked up.

“yooo!”

“you still busy?” geto asks, voice hoarse as he flops down on the edge of the bed— his now empty bed. damn.

“nah, just dropped off wifey,” gojo replies. he hears music playing faintly in the back, as well as the sounds of honking. he must still be in the car, “why, what’s up?”

“i fucked up.” geto sighs, running a hand over his face.

“oh?” he isn’t surprised to find out gojo’s surprised. he’s still surprised by how the events turned out and it’s barely been ten minutes, let alone five. “say no more, i’m on my way.”

geto hangs up. he throws the phone away, before falling flat onto his bed. he picks up your scent on his sheets, your warmth slowly disappearing— another painful reminder he messed up. where he’s expecting a wet patch of anything on his duvets, he finds nothing. zip. nada.

his eyes fall shut, “shit.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“and that’s pretty much the gist of it all.”

he exhales a cloud of smoke. more silence. geto’s starting to get sick of all this silence. it was radio silence with you and now even more radio silence from gojo. his hand never stops to rub at nanako, who’s been serving as a cuddling partner in this grand moment of crisis. the only person to ever have his back.

so, geto knew that confiding in his best friend this secret of his would be risky for a multitude of reasons. for starters, geto never fucks up. this would be ultimate blackmail content for him, and geto honestly doesn’t blame him. for two, he was just giving gojo shit about never having eaten pussy. that’s just downright humiliating. and for three, he has a girlfriend who he doesn’t keep anything from. on top of that— his girlfriend is friends with the main culprit here.

overall a bad idea. he does it nonetheless, because satoru is his best friend despite it all. he isn’t too shocked when the silence is filled with bellyaching laughter, though.

“wait— i’m cryinggg,” more laughter. gojo’s now kicked his feet off the couch and is doubling forward. his shades bounce off his head and hit the leg of the coffee table. he doesn’t pause his laughing fit one bit, not even when geto throws a throw pillow his way.

it bounces off his big head and geto scoffs, bringing the joint back to his lips, “oh fuck off.”

“my fault man,” gojo apologizes though he doesn’t sound apologetic. he’s leaning forward to grab his shades back, and he’s back to swiping stray tears. “that was a good laugh— shit.”

geto hums at that, extending the blunt towards him,“glad to hear my misery has brought you entertainment.”

“see, you get it!” gojo jokes, welcoming the joint. seems like he got cocky, however, his laughing mood not quite over as he inhales. he quickly chokes on the smoke, which fades back into cackling, “oh shit—”

geto sneers, annoyance quickly rising, “quit fucking around or pass it back.” he was being pissy, yes, but his pride had been curb stomped. and it hadn’t even been an hour ago!

“nah, nah, i’m good,” gojo waves him off, despite his free hand tapping at his chest. he collects himself soon enough, and takes another hit. this time it’s successful. geto lowkey hoped it would get caught in his throat again.

“sooo,” gojo drags out, melting into the couch, “what now.”

“what now?” geto parrots.

“what’s the next move?” gojo elaborates, fingertip tapping at the blunt, and ashes fall into the tray. the end of the stick crumbles in the same way geto’s ego had earlier. “you’re gonna keep letting her think you suck at giving head?”

geto throws his head back and sighs tiredly, “what else is there to do?” he hears the sound of sizzling in the background, “i fumbled bad, bro. you don’t think she already posted about me in her girls’ private story?” more sizzling and exhaling, “i’m the storytime of the day!”

he feels gojo nudge his thigh with his foot. he looks back and the joint is presented to him. he gladly accepts it.

“what even happened?” gojo wonders. and oh boy, if that isn’t the question of the day. geto is still trying to find the answer to that. had it been out of nervousness? had he gotten too cocky? had it been her?

“i honestly wish i could answer that,” geto slips the roach into his mouth. “i didn’t feel nervous until after i realized she wasn’t fazed,” he drags out a hit and ghost inhales, “maybe it was a sign from above— to shut the fuck up sometimes.”

“maybe,” gojo snorts, throwing his legs over geto’s lap. nanako hisses at the intrusion, but the white haired man ignores her, “don’t let yourself go out sad like this. hit her back up— whatever happened to loving challenges?”

“what kind of fucked up ass challenge is this?” geto mumbles, mainly to himself.

“if i was in your shoes— which i’d never be,” because he’s gojo, he feels the need to add, “i’d put my pride aside and talk to her. like no homo shit, but you’re a great eater— yeah, no, i’m taking that back instantly.”

geto looks as horrified as he feels, “quickly, even.”

of course, gojo laughs but proceeds, “the point is, you know you’re good at it. everybody fucks up once in a while— don’t let it define you though. think of it as a minor setback for a major comeback— if you care enough, you’ll put your pride aside and do something about it. if you’re this down about it, then it must mean something to you.”

geto can’t tell anymore whether gojo’s talking about the failed pussy eating attempt or you. regardless, he knows there’s truth to his words. has to be the weed talking.

“and who made you the pussy connoisseur?” geto snorts, pressing the bud of his joint in the tray. it sizzles weakly as he kills it, starting to feel that high course through his veins.

gojo sighs dreamily, “why my lovely lady, of course.”

“looks like she taught you well,” geto relaxes himself into the tight space of the couch, settling nanako on his chest. it’s now his turn to nudge gojo with his foot, his sock-cladded toe digging at his jaw. “woulda never expected this from a rookie just a few months ago.”

“well duh,” gojo swipes his foot away, “i aced that course. got my phD in cunningulusophy and all. even won valedictorian.”

geto laughs, resting his lids. he was starting to feel sleepy, indica will do that to you, “enroll me in whatever class you took— i may need to slut myself out for extra credit. my prof’s a tough nut to bust.”

“intro to munch 101,” gojo nods his head, shutting his eyes close as well. there’s a comfortable silence that fills the air for a while. and despite the fact that his sight manipulated, he could hear the smirk dripping off his tone, “if you ever need a letter of recommendation, i got you— alumni’s honour.”

“oh fuck off,” a mixed harmony of laughter and vibrating chests.

☆ ☆ ☆

fun fact: suguru geto loves showers.

the aroma of cleanliness enhanced by thick fog. the scorching water droplets trickling down his skin, the vulnerability of his nakedness inside these four walls. he strangely feels most at ease, most raw in this moment of solitude.

he’s able to gather himself too. there isn’t much to accomplish in a shower once you’ve gotten rid of the day’s dirt. so, he likes to take the opportunity to think. to think deep and hard.

his mind’s all scrambled up. it’s been about three days since you were last in his apartment, two days since he’d thought about it, and a day since he last seen you (granted it’d been on your story, virtually, but still).

this has been the biggest feat he’s faced in a while. if he recaps it, this is what’s he gotten: he invited you over. you came the next day. he didn’t cater to you the sole reason you came. you didn’t mind. you both studied for a bit. he asked about your cat. you ended up on his lap. he ended up in bed with you. you ended up leaving with a chunk of his dignity.

that didn’t explain shit, but it did remind him of his failure. it reminded him that he’d finally met his match. it reminded him he needs to start backing his shit up. it reminded him of how good you smelled and tasted down there. it reminded him of how pretty you looked.

his cock twitches and he glances down. it also reminds him he never ended up cumming, too engrossed in his anxiety to jerk one out.

he feels as though the glass doors of his shower protect him from reality. he’s hard, though mortified, but still hard. he’d spent a long time (two days) suppressing the memory away, but there was no way to mistaken your taste on his tongue. how sweet you smelled. how soft you felt—

geto fists at his dick before he can help it. his free hand plants at the wall before him, and he works his wrist. he twists at his shaft slowly and closes his eyes— behind his lids are photographic memories of you on his lap. memories of you on his bed. memories of the scent of your panties. memories of your tits in his mouth.

sure, you’d made more sounds off the foreplay for the foreplay— but that didn’t take away how turned on he’d been. how his dick twitched in his boxers. how he’d humped the mattress. how he’d moan in your cunt.

“y/n,” geto moans your name, sinful yet hushed, his hand working faster. his thumb grazes his over slit and his gut drowns in heat. he wants a redo. he deserves a redo— you deserved a redo. “fuckkkk,”

next time, he’ll get it right. and if he doesn’t, then he’ll want to try again and again and again— until it ends with your cunt clenching around his tongue and his face sprayed vigorously in your essence. until your thighs tremble around his face, your hand clawing at his hair and your back arched off his bed. until his name bounces off his walls and echoes so loudly his neighbours complain.

he wants a redo.

he jerks back as he paints the tiles white. the joints in his hand ache, the water from the shower head getting colder. geto pants heavily, chest heaving as his load is released from him. his cum drips from the wall and into the drain at his feet— but his dick is far from well spent. if he spends another hour in the shower, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

suguru geto loves showers.

☆ ☆ ☆

“oh. you actually showed.”

“redo,” geto pants, having sprinted from his apartment. he’d spent the next three days after his shower incident wallowing some more— at some point, it just annoyed him. though slightly underwhelming, he was on his phone in bed a few minutes ago, going through his camera roll when he’d seen that picture he took of you and nanako. his feet guided him to his car before he could help it. choso helped him out with the address.

“redo?” you parrot his words, leaning against your doorframe. you crossed your arms over your chest, and it’s only then he noticed your appearance— flimsy camisole and pink lace panties. fuck, he wants a redo now.

“i want a redo.” geto repeats, but is quickly hit with a gust of wind. he hadn’t brought a jacket with him in the midst of his impulse, and goosebumps were beginning to form at his skin. he shoots his shot, “you ever planning on letting me in?” talk about deja vu.

“dunno,” you play along, eyes narrowing. “maybe if you ask nicely.”

swallow your pride, he hears gojo somewhere in the back of his mind. he shakes that thought off quickly. this desperation had to be bigger than a pride issue— he was ready to get on his knees and beg her to let him in. pride? that had been drained to the sewers the second he busted all over his shower days ago.

“lemme in and i’ll make it up to you,” geto tries instead, taking a step closer, “please?”

that seemed to be the correct answer as you push open the door to your apartment further. you turn your back and geto lets himself drink up your backside— he hadn’t seen it last time but you had dimples sitting right above your perky ass. he watches your hips sway left and right, and even tilt your head back, a smirk etched on your face, “you comin’?”

you will be, “cute.” his lips twitch into a small smile, and closes the door behind him.

☆ ☆ ☆

fool him once? shame on him.

geto doesn’t allow himself to make the same mistakes twice. if one fuck up is enough to tear him down for a week straight then why the hell would he do it again?

you’re sprawled on your back, legs spread with enough space to fit his body in between. his hands plant on either side of your face, his bulge pushed up against your core. he feels your warmth through these layers of clothes, and he rolls his hips greedily, feeling himself already grow addicted. your chin is raised high, lids blown open as you stare at him all doe-eyed.

his brows pinch in the centre of his forehead. that faux look of innocence you’re offering is doing wonders to his dick. your tits sit beautifully beneath your top, arms back on him as you pull him in closer, and he lets himself fall prey to you. for a moment, the tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips ghosting over the other, hips colliding to meet yours.

“mhm, that’s it.” you let out a sigh, throwing your head back into your pillows. there’s an opening to your neck calling his name, and geto wastes no time to latch his lips there. he slips a hand beneath your tank top, fingernails grazing over your skin to creep up to your mounds. he flicks a thumb over the bud and you sigh blissfully again— he then cups the flesh.

he loves the way you squirm when he kisses down your body, “i got you, pretty,” stripped from your cami, his lips leave open mouthed marks all over your skin. from the column of your neck, to your breasts, down your torso and past your navel, “let me take care of you.” the lower he gets, the more intense your rawness reeks— and it’s a damned good smell.

he lands right above your clothed pelvis, and he inhales sharply. he won’t make the same mistake this time, he can feel it. there’s something lingering in the air, something indescribable— but he’s confident he won’t. because when he skips your cunt in favour to pamper your inner thighs, dragging his wet tongue all over erogenous zones, he spots dampening right where your clit would be.

bingo.

your hand cradles his hair, and the other props your body up by the elbow. he glances up at you, cock throbbing against your mattress. your beauty still renders him speechless— runs his throat dry and makes his tongue feel heavy. he doesn’t want to decipher what this means either, and decides to conclude he’s simply thirsty for you.

“suguru,” you call at him. he blinks and the hand in his hair snakes down his neck, and pushes him deeper. his nose nudges at your throbbing clit, and his tongue peeks out of his mouth to lick at the damp material before he can help it. two fingers hook at your panties and push them to the side, revealing glistening folds. your slick drips between your crack and stains your sheets. he thinks he hears his stomach growl a little.

another swipe of his tongue, this time in contact with the raw you, and a breathless moan rips from you, “don’t disappoint me this time.”

and he feasts.

☆ ☆ ☆

gojo’s woken up to a notification from his phone.

it’s still pretty late— or maybe early, and his pretty girlfriend is miles away in lalaland. she snores softly, cuddling into his side, and gojo’s ready to cuss out whoever dares potentially meddle with his girl’s sleep. he’s starting to get grumpy.

when his phone undergoes face recognition, he lowers the brightness immediately. he swipes through his notification center and notices an attachment sent by geto.

now that peeks his interest. he presses on the message.

suguboo: [1 attachment]

suguboo: passed intro2munch101 with an A+ 🫡

gojo can’t help the laugh that leaves him, though is quickly quieted down when he feels stirring at his side.

“well i’ll be damned.”

yes, gojo is obsessed with his girlfriend. also 10k words on geto???

[qeyond]

brewing them up. theyre just lil bugs Top Left: My A oc Top right: Light Bottom Left: L Bottom Right: Misa

[senseichaos]

Hey, can you have a Lucifer going down on a female reader until she’s completely over stimulated? Trying to push him away, him using his magic to keep her still that sorta think? TIA🤤

Your wish is my commannndddd!

IMAGINE

"Amh.. Luci s'.." Your words get swallowed up by another moan that goes through your body, legs trembling as Lucifer's hand keeps them open with a strong grip. A blush goes over your face when his eyes peek up at you as he works his tongue against your clit, circling the sensitive bud at a tantalizing pace that makes you go dizzy.

You pull your blanket to your face, lower lip trembling as the pleasure from Lucifer's tongue continues to go through you. Gasping, you feel Lucifer's tongue dip into your hole, the pleasure from the action causing you to squirm and whimper loudly in an embarrassed pleasure.

"Duckling.." you hear him mumble into you, the vibrations causing you to continue trembling. "It's not nice having you squirm when I'm treating you, hm? Remember this is a punishment," oh you remember all right. You'd accidentally ripped a hole in one of Lucifer's expensive shirts, he wasn't mad (he's never mad) but he was definitely looking for that opportunity to punish you all the same; his punishment was simple, he was going to eat you out as many times and make you cum as many times as he pleases.

So far, he is doing a fucking good job at doing just that.

"Sorry! It's just so dirty.."

He chuckles, the vibrations making your cunt clench around nothing.

"That's just how I like it, silly duck. Now stay still for me, hm?" He asks, and under his soft yet authoritative gaze nodding without any thought but his beautiful lips as they kiss against your clit.

as Lucifer laps his tongue against your clit whilst his fingers massage into your thighs, you feel your first high begin to tighten inside of you. Once again feeling your body tremble as you bite your lower lip, closing your eyes shut tightly whilst Lucifer puts his oral skills to good use. You press the sheets to your mouth, letting out a high pitched whimper when your thighs threaten to close around Lucifer's head. He doesn't allow it, though; he makes sure to keep your thighs open nice and wide for him even if that means using a large amount of force.

"Lucifer! Careful or m'!" You moan, the knot in your stomach itching to unravel your orgasm.

"Mhm?"

"M' gonna cum!" You cry, and Lucifer chuckles, nibbling his sharp teeth against your clit as his tongue draws circles against it. With that movement you are inched to your high, the knot inside of you unraveling so hard you squirt a little. But Lucifer doesn't stop, he continues to eat you up, taking what he wants from your choicest of fruits. He doesn't care that you squirted on his chin, he doesn't care that tears are beginning to fall down your cheeks, he continues to lap up all of you. He's determined to do as he chooses.

"Daddy! S'too much..!"

Lucifer laughs, sucking against your swollen clit for a moment before withdrawing, mouth pressed to your mount. "Well, you should have considered that before ripping Daddy's shirt, hm? Be a good duckling or I'll make you cum even more than I plan," He says, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he kicks a long strip against your entire pussy.

"But I'm gonna fall asleep.." you whine, holding the sheets of the bed to yourself tightly. You try to push him away, you really do! Even going as far as to shock him on the arm with your (weak) powers. Though, this all doesn't appease Lucifer. If anything it makes him more ravenous to eat all of what he can from your pussy. This all amounts to his own powers keeping you still, a throb of a sort of ache-y pain entering you.

"Well if you do, I guess I'll just keep going. I didn't teach you to resist punishments like this, little ducky.."

Once again, he dips his tongue into your hole, fucking his tongue into you for a moment before going back to teasing your clit. It just goes like that, he'll suck, bite, lick your clit and then fuck you open with your tongue.

You can't even begin to recall how many times you came. 5? 8? 10!!?? By the time you awoke your pussy felt moderately used. And yet it was all worth it when you awoke nestled against Lucifers chest, his light snores filling your ears.

(not proof read!)

[lostalioth]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

→ premise: it was meant to be just a simple quick visit to your sweet boyfriend at work, a regular thing on your days off, something steven looked forward to. especially when the both of you snuck off to the bathroom.

→ pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, against the wall sex, bathroom sex so semi-public sex, creampie, nicknames [baby, love, darling]

→ a/n: kinktober 11

It was merely meant to be a short visit to Steven, your lovely boyfriend, at his job in the gift shop. You just missed him and wanted to see him, you didn't intend for it to end with the two of you sneaking off the bathroom.

“Darling I really need to get back to work, my boss won't like that I'm gone so long” he groaned out, his voice soft as his breath fanned across the back of your neck. His body betrays his words however as he makes no move to stop pinning you against the bathroom wall. His hands grab onto your hips as he drills into form behind. Your chest up against the cold tile wall, your hips bouncing off of his making a slapping sound that filled the echoey bathroom alongside your whines. Your knees grow weaker and weaker the closer you get and the faster and harder Steven thrusts inside you. “Mm baby please just a little longer im s’close” you whimper out about too loudly, the words slurred as your head was going hazier from the pleasure.

Steven's large hands leave your hips, one comes up to cup over your mouth muffling your loud moans, the other drifts between where your bodies are connected and rubs at your clit. “As heavenly as you sound love you‘re gonna get me fired if you aren't quieter” his voice trembles as he can feel you clench around him in response to him silencing you. His eyes screw shut in bliss as he can feel your cunt trying to milk his release from his aching cock. “Gonna cum baby oh fuck-” your words come out mumbled and broken from beneath his hand though Steven can hear you enough to understand.

“Cum for me darling” he moans out, his hips speeding up even faster trying to push you right over that edge. His cock hitting just right deep inside you and his thumb playing with your bundle of nerves you cum hard on his cock. Biting your lip to help further muffle the wanton moan that threatens to escape, it comes out as a strangled desperate whine instead. “Good girl baby, fuck im gonna cum okay love?” He grunts out as his hips falter in rmyth fucking you through your high. With an almost pathetic sounding whine leaving his lips, Steven’s orgasm hit him, shooting hot ropes of cum inside you. After a minute or two when the both of you catch your breath he slowly pulls out, the mixture of his cum and your own leak out of you, trailing down your thigh.

“Maybe you should visit me at work more often darling” he chuckles softly and leans down to kiss at your exposed shoulder. You smile sweetly at him as he quickly works at cleaning you up best he can before he goes back off to work with a short but loving goodbye kiss.

→ a/n: i have never written for steven, this is really short and kinda ass as i rushed it cause its like 2 days later than when i wanted to post this, im trying to get back on track and not fall further behind so there will hopefully be another kinktober day posted today as well.

[worldlxvlys]

ANNA. GIRL. I HAVE THE BEST IDEA EVER.

ok, so I was just listening to one of the girls by the Weeknd and I need the filthiest, most pantie soaking, mouth watering, sheet gripping smut about chris based off that song. only if you want though LMAO. also probably really unpopular opinion but chris is most DEFINITELY the dominant one during sex. anyway love you pretty girl!!

one of the girls

fwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, semi-public sex, roughhhh sex, choking, slapping, spitting, degradation, dumbification, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, squirting, fingering, overstimulation, humiliation, recording, cursing

a/n: have your holy water on standby y’all

lock me up and throw away the key

he knows how to get the best of me

chris and i’s friendship was anything but normal. to some, it may even be perceived as toxic.

but me? i loved it.

i trusted him enough to do whatever he wanted to me, no matter how extreme.

tell nobody i control you

i broke you just to own you

they can’t tell that i love you

‘cause you’re loyal, baby

he was possessive, but it was hot. we weren’t actually together, but by the way he acted when other guys approached me, you would think we were.

he didn’t want to see me with anyone other than him, and i felt the exact same.

nobody else made me feel the way he did, anyway.

nobody else understood how to test my limits without going overboard.

i love when you’re submissive

love it when i break skin

you feel pain without flinching

i allow him to do whatever he wants to, and in return he he gives me a perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

he constantly pushes me to my limits, it’s almost gratifying to know that i can handle more than i think.

though my masochistic ways can be alarming to some, chris understands. he never judges or questions the things that bring me pleasure.

all it takes is a simple, “i need a distraction” and he has me pushed up against the door, his hand wrapped around my neck.

his fingers wrap around my throat, constricting my airway enough to stop my breathing.

he waits until i look like i’m about to pass out to loosen his grip.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

it doesn’t matter who he fucked yesterday, or who he’s seeing tomorrow. all that matters is right now.

and right now, we’re at a party, where he has me bent over a chair on the host’s back porch.

“you forget who the fuck you belong to? letting him undress you with his eyes like that?” he struck my ass with the palm of his hand over and over, making me cry out.

“how do you think he’d feel knowing that i’m fucking you on his porch?” he asked as he thrusted into me roughly, pushing my hips into the wooden chair harshly with every movement.

i moaned uncontrollably, gripping onto the chair for dear life as he pounded into me.

deciding to play with him, i looked back at him and spoke, “bet he could fuck me better than you ever will”

we both knew it wasn’t true, but chris stopped his movements immediately, making me whine out.

“think we should go find him? let him watch me fuck your brains out?” he asked as he pulled me to stand up.

“no, chris! please, just-” he cut me off by smacking my ass.

suddenly, he spotted a camera that was aimed at a short table in the middle of the porch.

“hmm, looks like he keeps his home secure, baby. you think he gets alerts when there’s movement on his porch?” chris raised his eyebrows at me, pushing me to the table that the camera was aimed at.

“he’s gonna watch this back and see you get fucked like the dirty little cockwhore you are" he rasped into my ear as he placed me onto the low table on my hands and knees.

he held my arms behind my back as he began to fuck me from behind again.

a cool breeze filled the air, making my nipples hard and sending a shiver down my spine.

he gripped my jaw harshly, turning my face to look at him, “open” he spoke.

when i opened my mouth, he gathered his saliva in his mouth before spitting into mine.

i immediately swallowed, making him slap my cheek lightly.

“now look at the camera” he said as he gripped my jaw, angling it so i was looking straight into the camera.

he pushed my body down, holding my shoulder down as his cock continued to stretch out my tight walls.

“you better make a fucking mess all over this table, make sure he knows how good i made you feel” his mouth found its way to my neck, biting at the skin roughly.

“f-fuck, chris” i moaned as his fingers brushed my hard nipples, before squeezing them firmly.

he suddenly grabbed my throat with his hand, pulling me closer to him.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the feeling of his hand squeezing around my throat.

he circled my clit with his free hand, and my head fell back onto his shoulder in response.

“such a fucking slut, you love being fucked out here in the open, huh?”

“good, good, so fucking good, holy shit” all i could do was chant those words, not being able to concentrate on chris’s words.

“look at you, going dumb for my cock” he spoke as he continued to fuck his hips into mine.

i mumbled a string of incoherent curses in response, grabbing his bicep as i felt my orgasm approaching.

“you gonna cum?” he asked as he felt me clench around him.

“yes, yes, yes, yes” i chanted as my eyes rolled back and i released on his cock.

“fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” he groaned before he did exactly that, shooting his seed deep inside of my walls.

he pulled out, quickly replacing his dick with two fingers.

“chris!” i moaned in surprise as he fucked his fingers into me.

“wanna see you squirt all over this fucking table” he growled into my ear.

his fingers moved so quickly inside of me, i could barely keep up.

i reached down to move his hand, but he wasn’t having it.

he pushed me forward, pressing my face into the table.

“it feel good? you like being fingered out here where anyone could see?” he asked as he added another finger.

“yes, yes, oh my god” i cried out as i felt another orgasm coming.

“yeah? then fucking take it” he said.

“chris! i’m cumming!” i yelled as my body shook violently on the table.

“oh my god” i yelled as my juices shot out of me.

“i know you have more, ma. give it to me”

he continued to move his fingers inside of me, watching as the liquid continued to pour out of me, making me scream.

“fuck” i breathed out when his fingers stopped , allowing me to catch my breath.

chris helped me off of the table, helping me to fix my dress so i was covered again before fixing himself up.

he left for a second, coming back with paper towels to clean up our mess.

“hey, you good to get home by yourself? i got something to do” he said, looking down at his phone.

more like someone to do.

“yeah, go. have fun”

with that, he kissed my cheek and left.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

💋💋💋💋

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[bugsbia]

Hi!! Could you write mean, harbinger Scara with a breeding kink? Just him bending reader (fem) over any surface and fucking them into overstimulation <3

Thank you in advance ❤️💖

ʚ Scaramouche x reader smut

ʚ BEFORE READING: I've been inactive for a long time now due to life being life but I do fanfic comms, $8 for minimum 2k words, including nsfw fanfic so just message or inbox if you're interested.

ʚ WARNINGS: usage of the words slut and whore, degradation, breeding, mentions of carrying his heir/baby, didn't proof read.

You felt his fingers trailing up your waist, calloused hands slowly pushing your shirt up. How you got here is a question of its own; you have no idea really. Your night started simple, having attended another boring work party.

That was until your boss approached you, pulling you away into his office. Probably to discuss a new hire or some other work bullshit you'd forget within a few hours. Either way you followed, it wasn't like you had much of an option to begin with anyway, unless you wanted to be fired.

And that's how you got here—his hands on your body, lips against your neck as you lay beneath him. Maybe you both drank too much, or maybe the mutual attraction had been left unattended all too long; all you knew was that it felt heavenly. 

He slipped your shirt off, gazing down at your form, admiring every curve of your body. "So utterly perfect," he murmured as he unclipped your bra, taking it off of you and throwing it off to the side before leaning down, swirling his tongue around your nipple. 

Soft noises escaped your lips, whimpers, and hushed moans at the sensation of his tongue working so hungrily against your heated flesh. "Scara..." you breathed out, a breathy moan of desperation for more.

He was happy to oblige as he pulled away, not hesitating to flip you over and bend you over his desk, his fingers quickly slipping beneath your skirt and hiking it up around your waist.

"Such a pretty sight," he spoke under his breath, more so to himself than you as he slapped your ass, his harsh slap leaving a nice red mark on your skin.

He quickly unzipped his pants, not even bothering to take them off fully as he began rubbing his throbbing erection against your ass, a satisfied groan escaping his lips. 

Snaking his hand around your body, he wrapped one hand around your throat, the other pushing your panties down your legs as he made quick work to rub the head of his cock against your slick folds.

"You're gonna take it, and you're gonna love it," he whispered against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine as he finally pushed inside you. Burying himself balls deep in your warmth with a groan of satisfaction.

He spared you some kindness, letting you adjust to his size, but only for a moment before he began moving. Pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you, his harsh movements causing your entire body to jerk with every thrust.

"Such a slut, letting your boss fuck you like this. You've been wanting this, haven't you? Dumb whore." His words were harsh, yet they only seemed to arouse you further, and he could tell; he could feel the way you clenched around his shaft; he could hear those noises of pleasure that fell from your lips.

It spurred him on, his movements only seeming to grow harsher as he pounded into your, his hand on your throat tightening slightly, but not enough to actually hurt you. 

"Take it, take every inch of me." He murmured, "I'm gonna breed you; fill you up with my cum until you carry my baby. You like the idea of that? Carrying my heir like the breeding bitch you are?" 

His words combined with his harsh thrusts made your head spin, pleasure clouding your mind as he took you from behind; his hand on your throat only added to it all, making you slightly dizzy.

Releasing your throat, his hand moved between your thighs, rubbing your clit harshly as he sought to make you cum. "Cum," he demanded harshly, "cum for me now you slut."

You couldn't hold it back; his cock plunging deep inside you combined with his quick movements against your clit sent you spiralling over the edge. Sweet moans of his name fell from your lips as you came around his cock.

That didn't cause him to slow down at all; if anything, it made him go harder. He didn't give you a single second to calm from your high; he only thrusted harsher, positioning himself so he could hit even deeper.

"You're so fucking tight when you cum; keep going and I won't be able to hold back." His words came with a harsh slap against your ass, his other hand still rubbing against your clitoral.

It was becoming too much; you couldn't help but let a few whimpers and whines out at the intensity of it all. It felt too good; you wanted it to stop, but at the same time you didn't; it was driving you crazy.

"You're whining like a bitch; you can't handle it, can you?" He spat harshly; his words were mocking. "Too bad, because I won't be stopping anytime soon."

Pleasure started to combine with pain; it hurt, but it hurt so good, so addictingly. Tears built up in your eyes from the pleasure and pain, and it earned a sadistic laugh from Scaramouche.

Slapping your ass, he spoke again, "Crying already?" His question was sarcastic. He didn't care if you were crying; if anything, it only aroused him further.

His cock twitched inside you. "Fuck," he stammered, feeling himself grow closer to the edge of cumming; he couldn't hold back much longer, not when you looked so pathetically perfect beneath him.

Scaramouche dug his hands into your hair, pulling your head back as his thrusts grew sloppy and desperate. "You're gonna take every last drop like the good slut you are." 

A string of curses and moans spilt from his lips as he finally came, "That's it, I'm going to fill you up, he whispered breathily against your ear as his cum flooded your pussy, his hand tightening in your hair.

He rested his head against your shoulder as he came down from his high, finally releasing your hair and letting your head rest against his desk while his cock remained buried deep inside you.

"We're not done yet," he said as he straightened up, his hands moving to grip your waist as he grinded into you again, groaning with pleasure.

Still without giving you much time to recover, he began thrusting inside you again, but this time it was more desperate; he had passed the point of caring; right now all he cared about was satisfying his desire and breeding you.

Seeing how overstimulated you were didn't deter him at all; he revelled in the way you squirmed and whined beneath him; it drove him wild with desire. Your tears are fuelling his perverse desires and making him crave you more than he already did.

His hand snaked between your thighs again, but this time his movements were slow. It was tantilizing; his slow fingers left you wanting more but were also too much to handle.

Your hips bucked against his hand, automatically reacting to his torturous stimulation as you whined again, more tears spilling from your eyes.

"You're so pathetic; can't even handle me for this long?" He mocked, moving his fingers faster against your clitter but only for a few seconds before slowing again.

A sadistic chuckle escaped his lips. He revelled in your painful pleasure; your pitiful state was nothing but perfection to him. His perfect and smart little assistant is now a crying mess beneath him, all while pleasuring him.

He couldn't hold on too long at this point; you just felt so good wrapped around him, and you'd feel even better cumming again. His fingers moved quicker, eager to push you over the edge so he could feel you clench around him, even if you couldn't handle it.

You weakly tried to protest; although your protests were half-hearted, you craved this pleasure even if it felt like torture, and despite your weak protest, his fingers continued.

His fingers continued until you couldn't hold back anymore, gasping loudly as you came around his cock again. The release felt so painfully good, and it only caused more tears to spill from your eyes.

Feeling your pussyclench around his cock again, Scaramouche was also pushed over the edge, his hand falling from your clit to grip your waist painfully as he reached his peak.

His nails dug into your waist as he thrusted sloppily into you. "Fuck, just like that, you slut," he whispered, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into your welcoming heat once again. Some of it spills out and drips down your thighs.

Pulling out, he stepped back to admire the sight for a moment—your sweaty and trembling body, his cum spilling from your pussy. He slapped your ass again. "Clean yourself up,"  he spoke as he cleaned himself off and quickly zipped his pants up again.

"I'll see you again tomorrow,"  he said while tossing you a cloth to clean yourself off with. He then turned away, leaving you alone to deal with the mess, but also with the promise of more tomorrow.

[raphaelsrightarm]

For bayverse turtles head cannons could you do their kinks, like top 3 or top 5 kinks please if you’re comfortable with that? Also love you and your work! 🥰🥰🥰

Long time no see haha I appreciate your patience with me for all this time but here are some of my ideas for them...

I kept most of these gender neutral but there are a few that are gendered a bit more for a female s/o

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY

Leo:

Voyeurism- consensually of course - Leo loves watching you touch yourself, plain and simple. Especially when the two of you first started being intimate. It showed him all the ways you like to be touched, showed him what feels the best to you. The further the two of you go into your relationship, it turns more into him simply loving the way pleasure looks on you. It doesn’t matter if you use your hands or a toy, he loves watching you get yourself ready for him.  

Tantric Sex - He loves intimacy, and he sees sex as a way of really feeling close to you. And yeah sometimes he needs the relief that a good fuck can give, there are nights when he just wants to feel you. To have you wrapped around him, arms looped around his neck to pull him closer  telling him of your adoration for him and him telling you the same. The journey for him can be as satisfying as the destination. 

Edging - This can go both ways for him, he loves both bringing you to brink before denying you, only to continue building you up before he finally makes you cum. But he also loves to do the same to himself, mostly by pleasing you. Whether it’s with his hand or mouth, you’ll notice him slowly stroke himself, never fully giving into his own pleasure until he absolutely can’t take it anymore. He loves to make that high even more intense when he finally chases it.

Bondage - This guy loves control. He also loves this because it shows how much trust you put in him. He sees it as its own unique form of intimacy, to allow him to tie your wrists above your head and to know that he wouldn’t do anything but please you. Afterwards, he always feels closer to you knowing how deep the trust runs between the two of you.

Heels - I’ve always thought he is a fan of legs. Doesn’t matter how thick or thin, short or long, he loves legs. Which is part of the reason he loves to see you in heels so much. They just bring out your legs in a way that drives this poor guy insane. He also secretly loves the sound of heels against the floor

Raph:

Biting/Giving Hickies - He is obsessed with seeing anything on you that marks you as his. He may not be able to be beside you at all times to keep others away, but a nice hickey on the side of your neck would work just fine. He's possessive

Spanking - Because he is an ass man, expect him to be touching the butt, a lot. He loves watching it jiggle after he smacks it and to feel how soft you are under his hands. He may also spank the kitty, if you're down with that of course…

Degradation - This will only happen to the extent that you allow it. Though he would never make fun of your body or anything like that. He loves to call you 'his whore' while he's fucking you so good the only thing you can do is agree (there are also times when he would ask for you to say it yourself).

Thigh-fucking - I'm not gonna lie, this man has an obsession with thick thighs. I'm talking cellulite and stretch marks. He loves all of it. This would be used mostly when the two of you start having sex, because let's be real this guy is PACKING so it'll be best to take things slow. He'll lift your legs up to his shoulders, and you'll cross your ankles together and just watch him get off, bonus points if you tell him how sexy he looks while he does it.

Facials - This one can go along with his obsession with giving you hickies, though this one obvisouly is much more private. He just loves the visual of it all, ya know? Staking his claim, basically. He's a possessive guy, and he tries to tone it down outside the bedroom, but he allows it to come through HEAVILY behind closed doors, and this is one of his favorite ways, by having you on your knees in front of him, his cum traced across your mouth ........

Donnie:

Sex Toys - This can span all the way from vibrators to restraints even, when he has the time to go all out with you he will absoluately take advantage of that if you're down. One of his favorites is to use a vibrator on your clit while he fucks you slow, so slow that it drives you isane, but believe that he'll have you taken care of multiple times before the night is over

Overstimulation - So this can go hand in hand with the passage above, he wants to see how much you can take, and all four of them were blessed with a high sex drive, he can go as many times as you need him to honestly. He loves the nights that leave you in a trembling mess underneath him, your nails digging into his skin with tightly you're holding onto him. It also secretly brings a swelling pride to his chest to know that he's capable of bringing you there

Phone Sex/Nudes - Let's be real this guy gets busy; there are times where he can't see you in person but trust that he won't let that complicate things too much; he loves to hear you say the filthy things you want him to do next time he's with you as he strokes himself, legs spread wide. If you were also comfortable with sending him pictures he would be ALL over that; even has a seperate folder for them that is heavily locked down

Thigh riding - Imagine sitting on his lap in his desk chair, kissing him as his hands roam up and down your body before they land on your hips, guiding them back and forth but not allowing you to go any faster than he wants you to, all the while he's whispering all the things he wants to do to you while you whimper into his ear, pressure building up higher and higher; yeah, he's a fan of this one

Choking - He'll usually only do this when his focus is completely on you, one hand between your legs while the other is squeezing the sides of your throat. Breath play can intensify an orgasm, and he loves watching it race through you even stronger. There are even times when he's alone that he'll do this for himself but you don't find that out unitl later

Mikey:

Praise - This can go either way for him, honestly. He loves to praise you but loves even more to be praised himself. He needs to know how good he's making you feel, and for you to vocalize that to him would only make him want to go even harder. Complimenting his body especially would drive him insane.

Begging - OOOO boy, this one kills him. He loves hearing you ask for what you want, it helps him feel much more confident in whatever it is the two of you do knowing just how badly you need it; also to hear the person he loves beg him to touch them, kiss them, fuck them, it drives him absolutely inSANE

Massages - His love language is touch, so being able to run his hands over your skin is quite possibly his favorite thing to do anyways, but having you laid out before him, whining the longe rhe goes on, though the both of you know he won't be able to deny you for long...

Face-Sitting - This one I feel a bit self explanatory, this guy is a munch, any possible way you let him eat you out he's going to go for it

Semi-public - A secret part of him loves watching you try to stay quiet even when your on the brink of your orgasm. He also enjoys the risk that's involved with possibly getting caught in the act especially when your legs are on his shoulders and all you can do is whisper broken up words begging him to go harder ahdkashdkjaskdfskj

[ddejavvu]

Anakin with a corruption kink? Y/N’s really sweet and introverted and Anakin can’t stop but think in every single sexual thing he wants to do to her

obvious cw for corruption kink/mentions of virgin!reader, don’t like don’t read.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

he'd take so much sick, twisted pleasure in explaining different sexual acts to you. he likes watching you squirm, he likes watching your eyes go wide and your lips get all puffy and raw as you bite them to death, he likes watching you squeeze your thighs together like you can stop that insatiable ache between them. like he doesn't know what you're doing, like you're being subtle about it. you're not.

the grosser the sex act, the better. he starts you off by just asking whether you're familiar with different positions, but it gets progressively worse. he'll ask first about something simple like missionary or doggy, and if you know either one, he calls you dirty. like his thoughts aren't a thousand times worse, like he's not imagining you bound and gagged and covered in cum. but it works, he sees you inwardly cringe, he sees you get all flustered and shameful, and he loves it.

"you'd look good in a piledriver, baby. your neck all bent and achy, your hips up for me to fuck into. i'd get deeper, y'know, if your hips were up." he pats a rough hand on your hip, "i could fuck your needy hole so much better if I just-" / "anakin-!" / "what, you're getting all weird now? come on, it's just sex. everyone does it. except for you, huh? you've got a tight little virgin pussy, don't you, angel? you gonna let me in?"

and that's just the beginning. wait until he starts branching out a little.

"you know what a rimjob is, baby?" he'll ask, an infuriating little smirk on his face as he waits for your stammered response. when you shake your head he scoffs, "didn't think so. you gonna let me do it to you, angel?" he knows what he's doing, the power he's holding over you by being so elusive about the actual act. but all you have to do to find out is ask, why won't you just ask him? when you finally manage to gather the courage to mumble, "what.. is it?" his face drops into this shit-eating, devilish smirk, and he grabs your hips, jostling the globes of your ass. 'well, i'd make you lay on your stomach, and i'd press my face into your pretty ass, and i'd lick it out, baby. you gonna let me get my tongue in there? 'gonna let me shove my fuckin' tongue inside your ass like it's your pussy?"

you make this horribly flustered noise that's some awful cross between a squawk and a scream, and try to wrestle your hips out of his hold to go bury your burning face somewhere that his eyes aren't privy to. but he's relentless, fighting past your bashfulness and pinning you down to the bed while leaning in to kiss your red-hot face.

"what," he croons with faux-sympathy, "you're all antsy now? that got you hot-and-bothered, didn't it, thinking about my tongue in there. you're dirty, aren't you?"

when you don't answer he kisses you, and he feels the way your cunt drags against his thigh without you meaning for it to. he gets off so much on being the one to get you this way for the first time, and he's more than happy to mumble dirty shit in your mouth while he's licking it out.

"you're a nasty girl, y'know that? m'gonna put my tongue in you baby, like this-" he demonstrates with the slack ring of your lips, squeezing your cheeks until they form a hole and fucking his tongue inside to lap at your own while you helplessly grind against him, "fuck, i can feel you shivering. you like it when i talk nasty to you?"

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Summary: Steve is jealous, and it has some delicious consequences.

Warnings: Language, dom!Steve, jealous!Steve, possessive!Steve, references smut, slight smut, and NSFW.

A/N: Hi, everyone! Slowly tryna edge back into this writing thing. Here’s some filth! Much love to y’all! ❤️

Steve Harrington is seething. The kind of grit your teeth until they ache, fists clenching knuckle white, nails leaving their printed shapes behind in the flesh of palms - type of anger. There’s a blazing inferno clouding the mossy embers within his eyes, dilating his pupils into an intergalactic abyss. He’s worked himself up about it since he saw his former best-friend (and your high school tormenter) Tommy H, flirting with you at the video store when he came back in from his lunch break earlier in the day. It built into undeniable stormy waters on his drive home, leaving him with a clear objective: claim.

You’re expecting this, especially the moment that you hear his car door slam moments later, knowing his cool demeanor at playing it off when he saw you trying to casually brush Tommy away, was all a smoke screen. Steve isn’t upset at you, that much is clear. But you are well aware that he’s probably going to need whatever is going to take place when he gets into the apartment. He needs to be this way right now, desires to stake his claim over you. His footsteps find the decorative welcome mat and his key slides into the lock.

Fuck. You want to sing, a ping pong of sensations firing off the walls inside of you, taking dents out internal flesh, pushing onto organs.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, perspiration slick against your thighs, among other things. You’re already changed for an evening at home — baggy sleep shirt, a pair of Steve’s tube socks, and panties. The sound of the door closing and his jacket as it’s rushed off his body, you clasp your hands together and wait at the entryway for him. Excitement doesn’t begin to cover how you feel, adrenaline coursing through your veins, prickling you with a specific electricity. Watching Steve’s messy hair (he’s definitely been tugging on it) makes itself known first, followed by his extremely tight jeans and long sleeved navy shirt - it makes you gulp into your initial reaction.

He smells so good. That musky odor of leftover cologne hanging just beneath the sweat of him. He’s staring right back at you now, hands finding his hips, nostrils flaring, brows pinched. My god, you can barely see the color of his irises. You’re wetting your lips when he speaks.

“Find a chair and get your ass in it.”

There’s a vibrating pulse between your legs that Steve can tell when you tighten your thighs together, nodding. He smirks, waving his massive palm towards your shared living room. He’s right on you, warm, breath on your neck, that delicious sound of his hands working on the click of his button and metallic clip from his zipper. His shoes hit the floor the moment that you pull up a simple easy chair you’d had in the reading area you’ve sat aside in the corner of your living room. Steve appreciates you working a little harder for his pleasure, versus just plopping into the lazy boy (not that he’d really mind either way) You’re such a good girl for him.

He kneels as you settle, flinging his shirt off and baring that scrumptious jungle gathered along his torso, silver chain nestled at his collar bone line. He’s hard, hand already in the elastic of his underwear, petting, rewarding himself to punish you. His spare hand parts your legs with a crude wideness, enough that you double over against his mouth, his knees pressing to your own, nose nudging your cheekbone until it finds the bridge of your own nose. His breath spray is faint compared to the scent of nicotine when his mouth parts (he’s been smoking to calm himself. it’s gonna be one of those nights where you know you won’t be walking tomorrow morning without a limp - god, you can’t wait), lips then pursing back together to kiss you on your mouth’s corner, before giving into you and stealing you into an overpowering, but welcomed kiss that captures the breath from your lungs.

Let Steve have your breath. They’re all his anyways. All of you belongs to Steve Harrington.

And as he meets your glazed over, fucked out line of sight, thumbpad grazing your jaw - he knows.

[torakowalski]

(part one | part seven)

"Yes," says Eddie when Steve cups his face with one strong hand.

He says, "Yes," when Steve kisses him too. Says, "Yes," again, when Steve slides his free hand into Eddie's armpit and pulls him up onto the bed.

They land with a bounce, Eddie half under Steve. He looks at Steve, gorgeous and pink-cheeked, braced above him, lips still slightly parted, and says, "Wait."

Shit, he is not a fan of himself, right now.

Steve waits. He leans back a little, looking like he's bracing himself for whatever Eddie's about to say.

"What's happening?" Eddie asks. "Don't say kissing."

Steve pouts like Eddie is robbing him of all his simple pleasures. "I, uh, I mean I'm not totally sure." He bites his lip. "I wanted to kiss you, so I did."

Okay, Eddie is calm. Eddie is calm about Steve wanting to kiss him.

"Weird reaction to making the team?" he guesses.

Steve scrunches up his face, like he's thinking about it. "I don't think so. I wanted to kiss you before I made the team."

"You... did?"

Steve is still very much hovering above Eddie. It seems like he might not have noticed that he's basically doing a plank while having this conversation. Stupid swimmer's arms. His t-shirt is hanging down, away from his stomach, and Eddie desperately wants to touch his bare skin. He bets he's really, really warm there.

"How long before?" Eddie adds, without giving Steve time to answer the first question.

"Since you cheered for me," Steve says, which doesn't narrow it down at all, until it does. "I fucked up my first couple of races, but then I saw you yelling for me from the stands, and I thought I can't wait to kiss him for that, later. Took me an extra couple seconds to realise that we don't kiss, and then I couldn't think of a good reason why not."

That was maybe two hours ago, and that's only if Eddie is feeling generous with time.

"Steve, you can't just..."

"I know," Steve interrupts. "I know I'm supposed to take time to freak out and panic and think about what this _means_ and worry about all the things that Robin worries about, but I'm just... You know me, I do things, I don't think about them first. I really don't feel any need to think about this, either."

He looks down at Eddie with his big, dark eyes all genuine and sincere. And yup. Yup Eddie is going to get his heartbroken so very badly.

Eddie shakes his head at himself and his own stupid decision making. "A good person would say you need to take your time and not rush into this." Steve looks genuinely disappointed, which Eddie cannot stand. "I, however, am the son of Satan, remember?"

"Oh, shucks, I thought you were just a Satan worshipper," Steve says. "I didn't realise you were like, Hell Jesus. You should have said something."

Eddie snorts a laugh. It's kind of gross honestly, but Steve just smirks. Fucker.

"Put that face to better use and kiss me," Eddie orders. He's glad he sounds confident because he does not feel it.

Steve's smirk because a smile, all sunny and surprised. "Yeah?"

"Just until you come to your senses." Eddie reaches up, puts his hand on the back of Steve's neck. His hair is damp against Eddie's palm and his skin is smooth and hot.

"That's gonna be a while, I think," says Steve. He lowers himself down onto his elbows so their chests are barely a breath apart, presses a kiss to Eddie's mouth.

It's not Eddie's first kiss or anything, but it's definitely within his first... three kisses. He hopes like hell he's doing it right. At first, it's closed mouths, lips moving gently together but then Eddie feels a burst of total daring and parts his lips. Steve hums happily and dips the tip of his tongue into Eddie's mouth.

Fuck, holy fuck, this is really happening. Eddie can taste Steve's spit. That never happens in his dreams.

He hears himself make a noise and his hand clenches, squeezing the nape of Steve's neck. He squirms a little, gets his other arm around Steve's back, hand flat just above the waistband of his pants.

Steve makes a very happy hum, licks into Eddie's mouth, and then they're definitely not just kissing; this is definitely making out.

Eddie's hard in seconds, but this isn't the time, so he's gonna ignore that. It's more difficult to ignore how fast his nipples go tight, aching with it until all he can do is pull Steve down, press up into him, until they're chest to chest.

He wishes their shirts would melt away. He wants Steve's skin against his own. Preferably, he wants all of Steve's thick, ridiculous chest hair for this half-hour of madness, but he'll take the smooth, waxed version too.

"Ed," Steve says into his mouth. His fingers have knotted in Eddie's hair. "Eddie, can we lose our shirts?"

"Are you an actual mind reader?" asks Eddie, which just makes Steve laugh.

Steve sits up, grabs the back of his t-shirt, and is just above to pull it over his head when the room phone rings.

They both freeze.

"Fuck. Dinner," Steve says, eyes wide. Eddie hadn't realised he'd forgotten about it; that's pretty gratifying.

Eddie grabs the phone, since it seems the gentlemanly thing to do.

"Where are you?" Dustin whines. "We're starving."

"Eat bread sticks," Eddie tells him, watching sadly as Steve lets his t-shirt settle back down around his body.

"We've eaten them all," Dustin says. "What are you even doing? You've been ages."

Eddie flops backwards onto the bed. He knew making out with Steve wasn't going to last, but he thinks the universe could have let him have a little more time with it.

"Team USA here has to do his hair all pretty," he lies, sending Steve an apologetic look.

Steve rolls his eyes.

Judging by the noise Dustin makes, he does the same.

"Well, tell him to hurry up. Your uncle just called Ma 'ma'am,' and she giggled. I need back-up."

Huh. Go Uncle Wayne. "We're hurrying," he promises. "Order without us and we'll be there stat."

"I'm ordering the steak," Dustin says, like he thinks Eddie is the one paying and hangs up.

Steve has moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He gives Eddie a wonky smile. "We really should get ready to go."

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and doesn't let himself think about whether Steve sounds regretful. (He really does think Steve might sound regretful.)

"Yeah. Apparently my uncle is flirting with Mrs Henderson, and Dustin's at risk of both a stroke and starvation."

"God forbid he reacts to something calmly," Steve says, a smile still in his voice. "I'll go shower."

He stands up. Then he sits down again. He reaches out and curls his long fingers around Eddie's wrist. "I haven't come to my senses yet."

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"You said, you said you'd kiss me until I came to my senses. I still feel totally senseless, so maybe we could kiss more after dinner?"

Fuck. How is Eddie supposed to eat now? Or hold a conversation like a normal person.

"Um," he says. "I, uh. I did say that, and I never go back on my word."

Steve squeezes Eddie's wrist then briefly tangles their fingers together. "Wanna shower together?"

He bounces his eyebrows, so Eddie doesn't think he's serious. It makes him want to say yes just to see what Steve would do. Except he knows what Steve would do, he'd go through with it, and neither of them are ready for that.

"Not on our first date," he says. "Hit me up when you've got a gold medal, and we'll see."

"Maybe I'll hold you to that," Steve says. He gets up and heads off to the shower, whistling as he goes.

(continued here)

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 11

11th — mutual masturbation, Jenson Button

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

It became harder to resist the pull between you and Jenson as time went on. Every smile and every lingering touch during your dates made the chemistry between you undeniable. There was an ease to being with him, whether you were exploring new places or simply sitting side by side, the connection deepened without either of you needing to say it aloud. 

What had started as innocent fun was now something more intimate, a warmth that settled over you both whenever you were together. His presence was comforting, but also electric in those quiet moments when his hand would brush yours, or when his gaze lingered just a second too long. You never felt rushed, but there was an underlying tension, something simmering between you, waiting for the right moment. Every time you kissed, it felt more intense, more meaningful, as if your feelings were building up to something neither of you could ignore. Each day spent together blurred the lines between taking things slow and the overwhelming urge to dive deeper into what you had. 

It was clear that what started as a simple agreement had grown into something more significant, something neither of you could contain for much longer.

Which somehow culminated in tonight, where you were sitting on his couch watching some movie that was long forgotten about now. What had started as kissing had turned to making out, to full-blown petting to now… 

“So soft,” Jenson whispered as his hand was up your skirt, his fingers massaging your sex gently as you buried yourself in his neck. You hadn’t wanted to take things so fast, but the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clothed slit made you think differently. 

He groaned softly into your ear, one hand moving from your waist to cup your breast through your top. “Fuck, you're driving me wild”, he murmured against your skin before trailing hot kisses down your neck. His other hand continued its exploration, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt to tease the edge of your panties. “I've wanted this for so long... You have no idea how much it turns me on knowing you're by my side.”

You leaned up to kiss Jenson as your own hands began to drift. He chuckled softly as you mimicked his soft touch along the front of his jeans. Even as his own fingers worked you, he helped you unbuckle his belt and unzip himself just enough to slide your own hand down his pants. 

Jenson's breath hitched as your hand wrapped around his hardening cock, stroking it slowly through the fabric of his boxers. “Christ, you're playing with fire, baby,” he warned huskily, nipping at your lower lip. With deft movements, he hooked his fingers into your panties and tugged them down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed on his lap. “Gonna make you scream my name before we're done here” he vowed, his voice thick with lust. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along your jawline as his hand delved between your thighs, finding your slick heat. “So wet already... You really do want this, don't you?”

He moaned softly as you stroked him, his member throbbing in your palm. His own fingers pulled your panties aside, working you open for him as you whined in your need. There was something so blissful about this moment, simply helping each other relieve tension. It was still technically taking it slow, just in a different way. 

He groaned deeply as your hand continued to stroke his length, the pressure and friction sending jolts of pleasure through him. “Fucking perfect,” he breathed, his hips twitching involuntarily. As your body welcomed his touch, he leaned in to capture a nipple between his teeth, nibbling and sucking gently while his fingers plunged deeper, curling to stroke that spot inside you that made your toes curl. “God, you're so tight, he gasped, his tongue flicking over your pebbled peak. Can't wait to feel you clenching around my cock when I finally get inside you.”

Jenson watched you with heavy-lidded eyes as you stroked him, his cock throbbing in your grip. “Keep touching me like that and I'm gonna lose control”, he warned gruffly, his hips bucking into your hand. Spurred on by his reaction, you gripped him tighter, pumping faster as you sought to push him over the edge. “Come for me, Jenson”, you urged breathlessly, leaning in to nip at his earlobe. “Want to feel you come undone…” He let out a strangled moan, his head falling back as his orgasm crashed over him. “Fuck, yes!” he cried out, spurting hot ropes of cum all over your fist and his stomach.

It wasn’t long before you were both at your limit, Jenson twitching underneath you and you wriggling in his hold, one of your legs draped over his lap so he could get a better angle. The two of you basked in each other’s glow, feeling his warm seed dribble down your fingers as his hand was sopping wet with your juices. 

Jenson stole a long kiss from you, the two of you utterly spent and exhausted in each other's arms. He looked down at you with a hazy gaze, giving you a lopsided smile as he asked, “Do you want to keep going?”

How could you say no?

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[shixcherie]

Best Student Ever | Song Mingi ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 10 : Edging/ Oral

↬ [ Synopsis ] : If Mingi had to describe you in two words, they’d be unpredictable and heavenly. After all, who shows up unannounced and sucks the life out of him, doing it exceptionally well? Only his best student.

Word Count : 1.5k Genre : Smut, Professor Au. Pairing : Professor! Mingi x Student! F.Reader

WARNINGS : Pure smut (18+), Oral (m recieveing), messy blowjob, slight throat fucking, best BLOWJOB he had ever recieved, teasing, massive thick dick Mingi, gag reflex, pet names, student teacher relationship, forbidden relationship.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 10 and its our giant princess Mingi’s turn. Hope you like it my loves. Enjoy! ma chéries ☆.

Overwhelmed by pleasure, Mingi felt on the verge of passing out. His eyes fluttered shut as he bit down on his arm, muffling the groans that threatened to spill out.

And who had this giant man breathless and at her mercy? You, Y/n!

What’s your relationship with Mingi? Student,he taught you anatomy.

—

It all started on that one random afternoon. Semester break it was.

“Y/n, how are you pre-med studies going on ?Any doubts or something” your dad, Hongjoong asked.

“They are going great. Just a few doubts here and there, but I have’em all covered up, daddy.” you replied confidently. You were a good student, an exceptional one at that so keeping up with pre-med stuff wasn’t really that hard.

But what really hard was to keep you eyes from wandering over you extremely hot, freshly single, deep voiced anatomy teacher. Song Mingi.

“Is Mingi doing a good job ?” he enquired, checking if his friend was teaching his daughter well or not.

Being Hongjoong’s daughter you did recieve special attention from your peers and teacher, Mingi being no different. He showered you with a lot of attention, extra private hours for doubts, a first hand look at revision questions all being part of the special treatment.

Was Mingi your professor at university?Yes.

And he’s also your dad Hongjoong’s friend?Yes, a very close one.

Wait, is your dad the college dean? Also yes.

“Yes daddy. Perfect. He is perfect…I mean his lectures are perfect” you stuttered, going off track a bit but gaining composure again. “I do have doubts with some Anatomy concepts, but I get’em sorted out later” you admitted honestly.

Daddy being dean you gotta be honest else your ass gonna be whipped.

"Get them sorted now. Mingi is spending his break at home anyway. He’ll be happy if you show up to discuss studies." Hongjoong advised, urging you to visit Mingi at his home.

"Are you sure, daddy?" you asked, just for confirmation. Not that it was needed,you were going to go anyway.

You had missed his pretty face all summer, and not seeing him had been frustrating. But showing up unannounced didn’t feel quite right, so you decided to send him a quick text. Mingi usually responded fast to his students.

No reply. Text sent 10 minutes ago.

You gave him a call. No answer. You called again. Still, no answer.

Why isn’t he picking up? And why am I not turning back to go home?

And just like that, you ended up in front of his house, a few blocks away from your own, within walking distance.

It was supposed to be a simple teacher-student doubt-clearing session, after which you’d leave.

But, of course, he had his phone silenced and didn’t know you were coming.

As you had to walk in on him sitting on the living room couch, fisting his massive length as he tried to cool off the tension in his body, boiling in the summer heat, made worse by the fact that he was correcting your semester papers.

Dumbass!, he forgot to lock the door while he was moaning with that deep, hoarse voice.

The sight before you had your mouth watering, your professor, the man you’d fantasized about more times than you could count, whose wet dreams left you hot and drenched, was now in such a vulnerable state, looking extra hot as he rubbed his massive hands up and down his equally massive, hard length.

"May I help, Sir?" Your voice froze Mingi, halting all his actions in an instant, blood rushing to his face as he turned to face you.

What is she doing here? Why—how the hell did she get in? Fuck, I forgot to lock the front door. Idiot! Absolute motherfucking idiot!

A million thoughts ran through Mingi's mind, along with excuses he was desperately trying to come up with.

"Umm... help? Help with what, Y/n?" he asked, laughing nervously, desperately trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Ignoring his question, you walked towards him, kneeling in front of him. You definitely got your daddy's confidence.

"With that. I can help." you said with a playful smirk, pointing to his angry cock, hard and desperate for release.

"Y/n! No, that’s not right. We shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be here. Why are you even here?" Mingi blabbered.

The poor professor was a mess, and your confidence wasn’t helping. You took one swift kitten lick along his tip, and that was it. His brain shut off, a wave of newfound pleasure registering as his complaints turned into compliments.

"Oh my god… yeah, just perfect… you’re so good."

His approval made you shoot him a glance through your long lashes, blinking innocently. But you were anything but innocent.

Your fierce kitten eyes, without the glasses he was used to, sent a shiver down his spine. Never had he seen eyes so intense. Your smirk grew as Mingi whimpered while your tongue swirled around his tip, cleaning off the pre-cum he’d released while jerking off earlier.

"Y/n, baby, stop teasing your professor." he groaned, almost pleading as he watched his favorite student take him entirely into your mouth like the good girl you were. His hands ran across his forehead, wiping the thick sweat from both the summer heat and the pleasure your mouth was giving him.

He brushed a few stray hairs off your face, eventually gathering them all into a makeshift ponytail as your mouth worked in perfect rhythm, bobbing and licking up his massive length. Your hands, bored of sitting idle, shifted—one to hold his base while you continued to work him, and the other to play with his balls. Mingi inhaled sharply at the sudden touch on his sensitive balls.

Your jaw was hurting, pleasurably stretched by his unbelievably girthy cock, but the sensation of his tip hitting the back of your throat was too addictive to care about the pain. You hollowed your cheeks, trying to fit every vein that popped out as Mingi breathed heavily, holding back with all his might not to mouth-fuck you.

"Close… ahh… close, baby." Mingi whined, your ferocious tongue work sending goosebumps all over his body. Unable to hold back any longer, Mingi harshly yanked you down, forcing his entire length into your mouth, his tip deliciously hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

You moaned at the sudden rough treatment as he rolled his hips into your mouth. Despite the intensity, your tongue continued to lick and satisfy him, while he used your mouth like his personal Tenga, sending vibrations through your entire being.

"Arhh, fuck... fuck!" Mingi grunted. You could feel him twitch inside you—he was almost there, ready to release. Your hands massaged his balls, giving them one cheeky little squeeze, pushing him off the edge of his pleasure mountain as he emptied himself into your mouth.

Thick ropes of white cum spurted into your mouth, some of it leaking from the corner of your lips. Mingi's thighs shook, and his hips stuttered from the intensity of the release he just experienced, all thanks to your wonderfully heavenly mouth.

Mingi pulled out slightly, only to jerk back into your mouth, the roughness causing you to gag again as he gave the last of himself. Your flushed face, eyes teary, cheeks a shade of crimson, with his slick all over your mouth, made him hard again. You swallowed it all, the sight driving him wild.

Mingi had never experienced anything like this—especially not with one of his students. It was an unbelievable, forbidden sin he was tasting for the first time. The experience was so intense and heavenly, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the last of its kind.

You stood up, wiping your mouth. No words were spoken; just a smirk danced on your lips, your eyes twinkling as you admired the huge man, a mess before you, feeling proud of the blowjob you’d just delivered.

"See you after the break, Prof" you said, glancing at the clock. You turned around and walked toward the door. Mingi watched you wave goodbye as you disappeared, still breathless, recovering from the best orgasm of his entire life.

Having experienced many blowjobs in his life, he could tell this was by far the best and most intense. You hadn’t uttered a single complaint about his sheer size and had satisfied him like the best student you were.

"Goddammit. What is this girl doing to me?" Mingi thought, groaning and rubbing his hardened member again as the pleasurable moments replayed in his mind like a movie reel.

He began imagining all the positions and places he could take you in once the semester break was over cause this isn't over yet.

Would Hongjoong be mad? Only if he finds out.

Anyhow, Best Student Ever!

—

"Ahh, Y/n! You're back." Hongjoong said as you returned after almost an hour and a half. Not a single hair was out of place, and you looked just as fresh as when you had left the house. Your best friend Ryujin deserved the a big fat thanks for letting you drop by to clean yourself up.

"Yes, daddy. Got all my doubts cleared,. you replied with a wide grin.

"That's good. Mingi definitely deserves a raise after this." he mused, thinking about his friend as you headed to your room.

Sure, Daddy… for fucking sure.

I deserve one too...but from the Prof.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker

sigh

a/n: this is extremely low effort but in my defense im pretty sure i was drugged on halloween. *ahem* originally this was SUPPOSED to be low effort but clearly i got way too into it. anyways. i’ve been working a lot lately which is why i don’t have many works out rn! i work weekdays from 8 in the MORNING so it’s a lot going on but i use what little free time i have yk? ntm i have MULTIPLE projects im also working on 4 a different site so it’s a lot. i don’t think anyone’s gonna read this but im working on being a vtuber so its lots of prep lmfao! and with that, my weekends are mostly spent sleeping or with friends, but i really enjoy my work. ill be going back 2 school eventually so i need 2 figure out how the hell im gonna make that work, but i will. amen. pray 4 me y’all. oh also reqs r still being worked on i promise. just gotta get this fucking schedule under wraps.  anyways. this came 2 me on a random sunday (betraying the lord as usual) and i decided. lets write porn. i wanna do something silly bc my friends have been panicking abt climate change and its rubbing off on me. amen! quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: who out of the tokyo debunker boys will pass nnn? who will fail? cliche i know but let me have this

cw: jerking off i guess. mc mentioned but no physical appearance described. MINORS DNI!!!!!!! Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken (before you ask vagastrom and jabberwock r already written jus not posted yet)

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL TY FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!

Frostheim:

Jin Kamurai: Pass

Pretty touch and go with this guy. He’s never heard of it before, so when it’s a sudden trend around campus, he’s not visibly piqued, but he is… interested. Outwardly, he’d think it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Inwardly? He’d want to do it to prove something to himself. Of course, on the rare occasion he has an odd dream… well, he prioritizes his own pleasure over some pathetic game. 

He finally wakes up from a rather interesting he just had after lounging around and avoiding his work. You’re supposed to be coming soon to drop off some documents. Maybe that’s why you were in his dream. Hmph… What, he dreams of his… servants, now? Rolling over proves to be a challenge when his half-hard cock jumps at the slightest shift of his sheets. Now this? Well, he won’t hesitate to take care of it. A simple pillow will do the trick. In mere moments he’s humping into a large pillow, burying his face in one end and thrusting his hardening clothed cock in the other end. The friction more than satisfies his needs. He’s so focused on it that his vision swims, most of his body going slack except for his arms squeezing the pillow taut to his chest and his hips insistently searching deeper, warmer, and wishing for wetter, tighter. When it’s all over, and his focused expression melts into a slack-jawed, bleary-eyed one, he knows he’d much rather stay here, in his sheets. His warm, sticky release, however, will eventually turn uncomfortably cold, and he knew you were on your way. 

Tohma Ishibashi: Pass

He’s participating because he knows Jin is participating. That’s really all there is to it. He’s not interested in any clout or anything, just thinks it’s funny. He doesn’t do this too frequently, but often enough to keep his rocks off, you know? Sometimes, though, he doesn’t really get any free time for months cleaning up after Jin, so… It’s those times that are more interesting. 

He tries rather hard to go slow for the sake of savoring it, but fails miserably - it’s been months, after all. His uniform is much too hot to be doing this in, but god forbid he waits another minute. A sweaty collar and cum-stained slacks could be washed, anyway. Despite starting with slow strokes, before he knows it, his hand is wrapped around his dick, rubbing furiously like there’s no tomorrow. His other hand claws into the bedsheets beneath him, pulling them every which way. His face contorts into a number of different expressions: his jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed harshly, or his jaw slack with his tongue lolling out and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull, or even his lips pressed tight together to stifle moans with his eyes screwed shut just as well. Regardless, he’s enjoying himself and desperately trying to keep a hold of himself. Finally, when the wave of pleasure comes, he presses his face into his pillow, knowing it’s hopeless to attempt to keep quiet. He spills more than he intends every single time, and when he collapses on himself, feels his dampened body melt into his equally dampened sheets. His hair is disheveled, his uniform is sloppy, and his monocle slips off his face. Fuck. He’d have some washing to do. 

Lucas Errant: Pass

Do you think this guy masturbates? Like genuinely? I don’t doubt it but I think if he was challenged to go a month without it he’d manage fine. I think, at best, he does it when he’s so fucking exhausted from studying that he can’t focus. 

Like, he’s studying one night. An itch makes itself known, but it’s easily suppressed. He smoothly focuses on his work. The itch rises again. He ignores it again. His leg begins to twitch. He ignores it even more. His leg starts bouncing without him realizing it. He presses a hand down on his knee, purposely avoiding touching his thighs, and attempts once again to focus on his work. The itch spreads, reaching from his groin to his legs, slowly crawling up his back. He still stifles it and forces his eyes to absorb the words on the paper of the book in front of him. The itch reaches his neck, creeping up his spine to his face. Suddenly, he’s flushed, and he realizes that, despite his best efforts, here he sits: half-hard, not absorbing the information in the book, his breathing heavy and his vision swimming. Damn! He allows himself the slightest freedom, knowing that will lead him to the gates of release whether he wants that or not. When he’s covered in his own sticky release a few minutes later, clarity hits him at last. He bites his lip and suppresses a groan as he stuffs himself back into his pants, shaking his head to rid himself of the cloudy orgasmic feeling. Finally, back to work. 

That being said, November is a cinch… unless this happens. 

Kaito Fuji: Fail

I don’t need to explain myself I think lol! Horniest virgin on the face of the earth. Yes, he fails, to thoughts of you, at that! I’m even willing to bet the one time he tries, he fails accidentally via wet dream. Sucker! It’s surprising, though… When he puts his mind to it, he really can keep his hands off himself… for less than a month. 

It’s late at night and he’s not studying, rather rolling around in his bed, back and forth, trying to resist the insistence of his cock, pressing into the mattress at full mast. He huffs face first into his pillow, feeling his cock strain against his underwear. He could stand this for a little longer. Just a little longer… November just started, sure, but if he beat his record of one week, that’d be accomplishment enough for him. He has to resist the urge to whine as he rolls over again, his cock pressing and pressing and pressing against all things within reach. He rips the covers off of him, frustrated, feeling warm from the heat of his arousal anyway. He could get through this, right? His fingers grip his shirt collar, bunching it into his fist. His other hand gripped his phone, as though using it to ground himself. He shifted the screen to his face. Maybe he’d be able to find something to take his mind off of things. He opens WickChat and scrolls, searching for a distraction. However, the gods must be against him, because all he can do is open his chat with you, and pretend you’d sent him nudes. He tosses his phone back onto his bed, clenching his hand into another fist before it could drift any further towards his groin. He bites furiously on his fingernails, burying his face into his pillows. His cock continued to beg for attention. 

a/n: well, i hope u enjoyed! im so tired and i have work in 6 hours. goodnight lmfao!

note that i appreciate likes, comments, and reblogs!! im not open for reqs atm, but please feel free to just hop in 2 give little random thirsts or something, i don't mind!

[fire-lizard-ro]

Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))

And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz

ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).

Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).

Anyways- Back to this.

Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333

CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise

Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)

So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.

But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.

But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-

But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-

Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.

It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.

Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole.  Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.

Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”

Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.

Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.

That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.

Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.

And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.

Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.

As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.

Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"

It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.

It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.

With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.

He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.

"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"

He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"

He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.

Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.

"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.

Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.

Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333

Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.

[worldlxvlys]

okay I know someone already asked something similar to this but ahem, referencing 7:10 on their this or that new video just brought to my attention that I really wanna see him shaking shivering and twitching, so pls pls pls DOM HIM AND OVERSTIMULATE HIM

okay thanks my babe MWAH

help

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: be fr. it’s smut. overstimulation, p in v, oral (male receiving), sub! chrissss

a/n: hehe ty for the request yk i loveeee sub!chris

hope you likeeeee <333

(the clip anon was referring to:)

“i really need you baby” was the last thing i expected to hear when i picked up chris’s call. i could tell by his broken whisper that he was horny.

“yeah? what do you need chris?”

he let out a moan at the sound of my voice, seemingly jerking himself off.

“can’t get off baby. need you to help so bad”

“i’m on my way baby”

when i walked into his room, he was laid naked on his bed with his eyes shut. his tip was red as he frantically pumped his cock.

without a word, i sat next to him and moved his hand, replacing it with my own.

“holyyy fuck” he moaned out, his hips jerking up.

his head flew back into his pillows, as he let out strangled moans.

“hmmm, all it takes is my hand around your cock and you start moaning like a little bitch” i said, watching his body fill with pleasure.

“my poor baby, can’t even get himself off without me”

he lifted his head up, propping himself on his elbows and watching me continue to pump his cock quickly.

“it’s ok baby, i got you. gonna make you feel so fucking good” he moaned in response, his high quickly approaching.

“feels so good ma, you’re so good to me”

“yeah? you wanna cum baby?”

“fuck yes, yes, wanna cum so bad. please let me cum, please, please” he begged, his moans turning into whines. i placed a quick kiss to his tip.

“go ahead baby, let it go. want my hand to be covered in your cum” i said, quickening my pace.

“fuck fuck fuck, i’m cumming baby” his hips began to buck up, as his cum leaked out of his tip.

i kept pumping, helping him ride through his high.

the thick, white liquid continued to sputter out of his tip.

“shit ma, i don’t think i’ve ever came so hard before” i moved my face toward his cock and began to lick it up.

“ughhh baby, baby, hold on. so sensitive” he said as he started to squirm.

“you said you wanted my help. sit there and fucking take it” i said firmly, holding his thighs open.

i swirled my tongue around his tip before starting to bob my head up and down.

“ohhhhhhh fuck”

i looked up at him through my lashes, as i continued to take him deep into my throat.

drool began to dribble out of my mouth as he thrusted his hips up, meeting me halfway as i continued to move my head up and down on him.

my nails were digging into his thighs, no doubt leaving crescent marks in their wake.

“baby i’m so close” he continued to groan and gasp.

“hold it.”

his eyes shot open, widening a little. “what? no baby i can’t, can’t hold it, gonna-“

he cut himself off with a guttural moan, shooting his load down my throat.

at that, i took my mouth off of him and looked at him.

“what did i tell you? can’t even follow simple instructions” i said as i took my clothes off.

“‘m sorry, just felt so good ma”

“you normally listen so well, baby” i shook my head at him.

“guess i’m gonna have to punish you” i said as i crawled onto his lap.

i laid his dick flat on his stomach, grinding my pussy on him.

“ughhhhhhh fuck”

“i swear to god, chris, if you cum before i tell you to i will edge you for hours” i said as i felt him twitch against me.

he nodded his head feverishly, before letting out a whine.

“ohhhhhh”

“whose cock is this?”

“yours, yours, yours, only yours” he whispered.

“what was that? i can’t hear you” i said as i rubbed his tip.

“YOURS! FUCK, IT’S ALL YOURS, NO ONE ELSE’S!”

“that’s what i thought” i continued to rock my hips back and forth against him.

his cock slid between my folds perfectly, but i needed more.

“baby, i’m so closeee. please please please” he continued to whine.

without warning, i hovered over him and lined him up with my hole and slammed down on him.

“OHHHHH” he screamed at the top of his lungs, his mouth hanging open as he began to twitch and squirm.

“yesss chris, feel so fucking good. fill me up so well”

“i can’t, i can’t, can’t take it”

“i haven’t heard the safeword” i replied, fucking him dumb.

i began to bounce on his cock, picking up speed.

“please please please please gotta cum, gotta cum, let me cummmmm” he was whining so much, he could barely separate his words.

“c’mon baby, just wait a little longer. i’m so close, wanna cum with you”

with that, he reached between us and started rubbing my clit harshly.

“please, please cum on my cock. need it so bad baby”

“go ahead baby, let go. i’m right behind you”

he squirmed and twitched, as his legs shook. his eyes rolled back to his head as he held onto my waist, needing something to stabilize himself.

the feeling of his warm cum inside of me caused me to stumble over the edge with one last cry.

“chris!”

i collapsed on top of him while we both tried to catch our breath.

after a few moments, he spoke up.

“you’re fucking insane ma” he chuckled into my neck.

“yup, and you love it”

“hell yeah i do”

🌀🌀🌀🌀

….what do i even say after that

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf

[smuttyaf]

You Can Be My Daddy

����𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝.

wc; 13.9k | masterlist

gonna post this gem to deflect from my hiatus. sorryyyy!

tw: reverse harem threesome, degradation, and choking.

Cherry.

You remember that day so clearly. The middle of June and how the breeze ran across your skin to the sweet juice of fruit gracing your lips. It was the name given to you one early afternoon when lying with your stepfather in the ruby field past the meadow of your home.

Red dye straining flesh before tongue peeked out to relish in the juices, such innocent actions changing the duration of your relationship from then on.

Inked hands and wet kisses exchanged around trees that left sprouting leaves to lie shadows amongst your bodies. Such a beautiful sight of the both of you enveloped in each other and tasting the bitter fruit on lucid tongues, it was a moment of pure pleasure where something new blossomed.

And now there’s bunny.

That day consisted of the usual sight of oak and large antique trophies found on either side of the private school walls. Plaid skirt with the Phillips Academy logo embroidered along your chest as you made your way to your class to the beat of your mary jane’s.

You listen attentively watching the brunette teacher paste himself across the room, his own thoughts and teachings expressed throughout the hour. Broad shoulders, wide frame, and chiseled features sculpturing the middle age man that’s been on your mind since meeting in the doorway.

It was only your luck that your conscious slipped and had you stumbling over the chalk left in your hand, pink panties being on display when leaning down to pick up the mineral and return it back to its respective place.

It’s was those actions that made you stay behind in class and speak to Mr. Styles. Conversation dwindling on doing well in your studies to the length of your skirt. Obviously, you played dumb, unsure that the slight alterations to the uniform were revealing, it was never an issue before but it was known now that it was.

Now it was your turn to corner him, tease him even more when acting coy to the games you play. His nails scratched amongst the wooden desk with bulge pressed snug amongst his trousers as he stumbled over your name.

“Please bunny, I want you to respect me as I respect you.”

Oh, how those words meant absolutely nothing… a few seconds after that his lips were on yours before you fell to your knees. Wet tongue swallowing his thick cock down your throat to the point your voice grew strained.

That moment was everything to you, having your way with the man of your dreams. So tall, so firm, and the swelling head between your lips tasted like heaven with the salty taste of him.

That afternoon it was set in stone your game at hand, how you attain whatever you want with a simple bat of your eye and how it’s even worse that you get away with it. Displaying the messy strokes of his seed painting your tongue to soon swallow it down and shine a brightly lit smile at the principal.

You were too good at this… having your way with seductive hips, plump ass, and gorgeous face to match. You’re a tease and take pride in it; smiling cheerily and pushing your breasts together just right to show your teacher the soft skin he wants to touch and squeeze.

And it was going good, actually it was going really well for a few weeks. Nickname written neatly across your paper, curve spine and different colour panties everyday. It was hot and exciting! Everything you could ever wish for, but obviously that could only last for so long.

A slip up of love notes to reservations over the relationship only made you decide to make it known to Mr. Styles that you had options, and if he doesn’t want to act accordingly you’ll rub it in his face the treatment he wants with someone else.

Leaving hickeys along Luca’s neck or catching his gaze on you two when he drops you off to class. Mr. Styles' sight on the adventurous hands wandering down your backside to the kiss placed on his cheek, you wanted him to feel bad for not choosing more alone time with you, for allowing his thoughts to eat him up and not trusting in you.

All you asked of was one thing and he couldn’t even do that, how irritating… how annoying… it pissed you off not being the center of his attention like all your other toys.

But now, oh… you’re nearly bursting at the seams.

Thinking you were having your way so easily with your taunting game, it was only right for karma to turn around and bite you in the ass because just as you thought you had one up on him, the annual Phillips Academy parent teacher interviews came up and sure enough both of your parents were attending.

You tried to figure out an excuse, tried to say you had a stomach ache or a killer migraine but obviously that didn’t work on your mother, so instead you sucked it up and tried your best to not sweat the inevitable situation, and sure enough it was haunting.

Brown skin met with white, and you wanted nothing more than to drop dead right then. Both holding eye contact and stiff grip that you had to find a way out of the exchange, something that won’t show you sweating.

Immediately you dismissed your presence with your mother, a weak mention of a drink to try just to ease your thoughts. You didn’t know how the hell you managed to find yourself in this situation, your stepfather and teacher in the same room and now talking to each other, this was perfect… just perfect.

Your mother sits the translucent cup down while placing a hand to her chest, her throat clears at the same time she shakes her head gently.

“That is quite sweet for the dinner,” She comments, sight looking over the glass bottle before bidding you a smile. “But you’ve always had a sweet tooth, haven’t you.”

Your lips tug at the end, a gentle and soft grin as you nod your head. Fingers lifting your own cup to your lips and swallowing the sugary grape tinged juice before your eyes flick towards Mr. Styles and Malik, both nodding to each other in unison. The sight makes your stomach turn.

“Excuse me dear, I need to go to the powder room.” Your sight following your mom as a happy expression still plasters itself across your face as you bow your head. You watch her decorative rings toss the plastic into the garbage before leaving out the door to be alone with your thoughts.

The hammering beats of your heart quake in your chest, pads of your fingers clenching into the warmth of the cup that leaves sweaty prints along the surface. A deep breath travels through your nose with lashes fluttering as your mind completely blanks.

What the fuck did you actually get yourself into? How did you end up here? You thought you had all your lies in place, that an instance like this would never happen but yet, here you are; bambi eye and plush lips scared from the outcome of all your deceitfulness.

Shaky hands left up the cup and bring it towards your mouth as you swallow back the remaining juice. Shoulders flex back concedingly, tongue swiping across your bottom lip before you throw your trash away and take another deep breath.

With whatever slither of confidence you have within it charges your walk towards the two men. Poised spine, alluring hips and doe eyes, you know it’s the sight they love, the sight they adore and maybe, just maybe, you won’t face any consequences to your actions.

The subtle tap of your repettos sound against the old floor boards before halting, your left hip popping to the side as your arms cross over each other on your chest. Bottom lip sucked between your teeth yet chin still tilted high despite the uneasiness flowing through.

Your view falls on the jet black strands falling across his forehead as his hazel eyes pierce through you. Lengthy lashes and rugged beard captivating your sight till you switch it towards the teacher; stubble cheeks and daunting green hues. Their aura radiates a connection unbeknownst to you, one that sends a chill down your spine.

“Speaking of the devil…”

The words come off as a teasing bite, accent thick and sight roaming over your frame as if plotting to have his way with you just like the many times he would tell you about over the phone, except this time it’s different, this time there’s a glimmer of deception.

Firm shoulders and board chests tower over your appearance as both their view latch onto your petite frame and doe eyes so oblivious and worried over the two men standing next to each other.

“Father...” Voice quiet and sincere as you look towards him. Fingers fitting against your arms as you try to keep your composure.

And you watch closely, the way his hand leaves his pocket and runs over his jaw, teeth kissing together as he shakes his head amused at your appearance. The fat flesh of your lips run over each other with eyes blinking between both bodies in amazement at the sight.

“Y/N…” Your step-father counters, head leaning to the side as he smirks down at you so coy and scared.

“Still being promiscuous, are we?”

Mouth runs dry with throat growing strain and fingers running clammy against the material of your blazer. The pounding in your ribs reaches your ears and sends nervous shockwaves throughout your brain.

Lashes flutter hesitantly between the two as you feel the creases between your toes begin to slither with sweat. Your teeth clench down on each other, nails scratching into polyester at the same time your lips fall apart.

He’s fucking with you, he has to be. He can’t possibly know what’s going on between you and your teacher, he absolutely can’t.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Thick droplet of spit eerily sliding down your esophagus, with ears ringing and jaw tight as you refrain from looking at the teacher.

That has Mr. Malik chuckle, deep and amused to the point that Mr. Styles joins along too. It has your eyes darting to him, heart causing painful shocks to run throughout your chest as the pads of your fingers begin to cause pain in your biceps.

This isn’t possible… are you even registering what truly is happening in the moment… are you in the Twilight Zone? You have to be, because the two men in your life are laughing together like old pals or something.

The taps of your mother’s heel rattles your spine, her heavy footsteps has your sight tearing away and looking towards her with an irritated smile, thankful she can at least save you.

Her perfume floods your nose as her own teeth shine in annoyance, her hand wraps around your shoulder as she brings you in dramatically to squeeze you into her body.

“My apologies dear, and Mr. Styles,” She smiles towards you before turning towards your stepfather. “Jessica managed to mix up the meeting with the Allen’s so we have to cut the day short unfortunately.”

A deep exhale leaves you as your grin turns to happiness. Thank god! This was perfect, literally saved at the right moment. Your feet flex in your shoes as you roll onto your toes, head swaying to the side to catch sight over your father who looks completely unfazed.

“We still have a couple more teachers to see, no?” Mr. Malik questions while giving your mother his full attention.

“Yes, but I really need to make it, I’m already ten minutes behind.”

“It’s okay love, you go and I’ll see the rest of them. Your viewings are always quite short.”

Your smile flattens, plucked brows pushing together as you try to comprehend if this is actually happening. It certainly can’t be real… you really have to be dreaming. Just when you think you’re about to get off scot free here is your father dangling his own satisfaction in front of your face.

Your throat grows strain, fingers curling in on each other while you fall to your heels. Your eyes roll obnoxiously as your head turns and catches sight on your history teacher. Flesh between his teeth and raised eyebrows, you can tell there’s a playful glint of happiness in his eyes, something you’ve never witnessed before.

“You’re a lifesaver! Thank you!” Cheerful voice rushes as she leans in and kisses both of his cheeks.

Now your heart is erratically beating to the point it’s the only thing that sounds through your ears as if white noise. Your mother rushes to hug you again before saying something that you don’t even comprehend because you’re completely fucked.

The strands of her hair trail away in breeze of blurry vision and slow breathing, nails digging into your cuticles as your gaze pans between the two men, your stepfather smirking charmingly and Mr. Styles with lip between his teeth.

You wish there was just a few more minutes for you to grasp everything thrown at hand. To collect your thoughts and lie accordingly but you don’t get that chance, not right now, not in this moment.

Eyes flick between brown loose curls to dark straight hair, from prickly bread to thick one, to piercing green eyes to alluring hazel hues. You’re ruined, absolutely ruined… and when looking between the two men does your mind really scramble.

There are only two choices you have; twirl around with tail between your legs or confront the issue at hand.

And because those are your only two options the sound of your heels tap against the floor as your vision fades from every single nerve swallowing you whole. Anxiety wasn’t even the word to describe how you’re feeling, and frankly you want it to evaporate immediately.

Without a second thought your feet are turning against the hardwood, arms falling to your side as lashes shelter your vision as you inhale deeply and place one foot in front of the other. Your chest surging with every beat of your heart as you try to think straight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Bradford accent clouding your ears as your wrist is caught within his palm. The grip over you has your body twist around and look at your stepfather with fury in your gaze. You would rather die than remain standing here at this moment.

“We’re not done here.”

Fingers curl into each other as sight never breaks, your teeth clench down on each other with toes curling into your shoes. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

There’s really nothing you can do. You can’t turn away and hide, you can’t plaster a smile as if everything is okay, you can’t do anything but accept this for what it is.

So with that your posture relaxes. Shoulders slouching, jaw loosening, and deep breath escaping. For once you lost at your own game. You’re not in control anymore and only in this moment do you realize that you haven’t been as soon as these two met.

There’s a silent connection between them, from their eye contact to stance. Something unknown is brewing and it makes your stomach quiver. Never in a million years did you think this would happen, but it is, and you’re caught red handed.

“Mr. Styles was actually telling me about your most recent essay, a plus was it?” His attention turns towards the teacher who nods his head in agreement.

“Yes, it was written exceptionally well.” Mr. Styles continues while raising his hand to his chin and rubbing the skin there.

“I was so intrigued when he told me about it that we agreed to go to his classroom and look over your work.” Your eyes flick between the two men who look at each other with pride. “I’ve always loved your writing, so you won’t mind, now would you?”

You don’t even say anything as your father releases your wrist and smiles down at you happily. Of course he’s thrilled with whatever endeavor he has planned, if you were in his shoes you would be as well.

The two men walk past you in your dazed out state and continue to chat with each other as if best mates in the span of half an hour. You don’t even try and further understand this situation but instead tread slowly behind the two men as they walk down the long corridor before making their way up to the third floor and into your familiar classroom.

Because of the events taking place today everyone seems to be remaining on the first floor which just leaves the rest of the school eerily quiet to the point goosebumps prick your skin, especially when your the last one to step through the door.

Your hand hooks around the knob as you step backwards and close it. View looking over the two men as one goes through his desk and the other leans into the structured object.

“Come here dear.” Mr. Malik orders while gesturing towards you.

A tight limb smile spreads as you roll your eyes and lazily make your way towards him, heels sounding against the floorboards as you pass the rows of desk to the left of you and stand next to your father.

At the same time Mr. Styles rounds the desk with paper in hand, thumb peeling the three layered essay apart while he looks over the lengthy written sheet. His sight skimming down the page before he hums pleasantly.

“Marie Antoinette is very known to the point of being called famous, but yet it is not for any good deeds. She is most well known for her selfishness and self indulgence.” He reads before passing the papers to your father who nods his head while examining it.

“Seems like you and Marie have some things in common.” Mr. Malik comments while turning to look at you peering up at him.

Your jaw tenses before slight flicks towards Mr. Styles, his view already locked on you; and normally you would be happy that you have his attention, especially with the way it obviously looks over your frame, but right now, in this moment, it’s something you dislike.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” Your teacher continues playing off your father's words which only leaves you a mess of nerves.

You’re the one who’s supposed to have them on edge, have them on the tip of their toes. You’re the one who’s supposed to have them reeling with discomfort, not the other way around. Yet, here you are with sweat slithering in every crevice of your body in the position that you love to put them in.

“N—no.” Voice barely even heard as your lips curl into each other.

“No?” Mr. Malik reiterates only making you look back towards your father.

Your tongue peeks out your mouth to run over your bitten lip, deep breath escaping your throat as you let your eyes close.

It’s time to face the facts. You’re stuck in a room with two men who you’ve led on just for the fun of it. Here you are left standing between these two because having your way with them just does something to your mind, to your body, and spirit that you just have to toy with them. But now you’re here and surrounded by your own faults and deceitfulness, having nothing else to do but accept that you’ve lost.

“You’re really smart cherry, so just use that beautiful brain of yours.”

Eyes immediately flash open at the call of your nickname, nails releasing from their previous hold as your chest turns towards your father who smirks down at you. His hand placing your essay down on the desk while his own body follows suit and goes parallel to yours as he watches you fumble.

“Father—”

“—Sir.”

At the same time he corrects you, the rough pad of Mr. Styles finger is dragging up the revealing skin of your thighs, his warm breath fanning over the right side of your neck only putting you further in uneasiness.

“What is this?” You question as your teacher steps closer to the point you feel his erection against your backside.

“What you always wanted.” His voice panning over your neck so warm and sultry that your knees tremble.

Spit runs down your throat slowly, sight looking over the way your father's lips twitch into a smirk. Once again, his head shakes in utter disappointment.

“Speechless?” Mr. Malik says while leaning towards you to the point there’s little space left between you both.

“The first time she doesn’t have anything snarky to say.” Mr. Styles chuckles into your neck that has you absolutely feening.

Even though you’re scared shitless you can’t deny that the scene before you is remarkably hot. Both men squish you against themselves as they lure you in with their teasing movements. It has your adrenaline pumping. The fact your teacher has his thick cock nestled between your clothed cheeks while your father looks down at you so content with the situation at hand. You’re flushed and bothered, and quite frankly you’re excited for whatever is in store.

“Tell us bunny, why did you lie?”

“Yes, cherry, tell us why?”

Both nicknames run across your skin that leaves goosebumps in their wake. It’s nerve racking but it feels too good to not fall prey to their taunts.

They're both so handsome; tall to the point they tower over you, delicious cologne flooding your nose as rough hands feel over your body. You simply couldn’t resist them, not when they have you like this.

“I thought it was only me?”

“So did I… especially when it’s just us two at home… all alone…”

The mention of your life outside of school with the older man has your teacher grip your flesh even rougher, heavy huff escaping him showcasing itself clear that the comment made him jealous and you can’t help the way your heart skips a beat at the near thought of him being possessive over you.

Your father bites down on his bottom lip, his hand dragging along the desk to soon fit itself along your stomach and slither its way up your side and begin to fondle your breast. The charming glint in his eye is distinctive to the many times you two have fooled around, it’s your favorite feature that you’ve distinguished since the beginning of your relationship, and without even thinking a whimper slips out.

Immediately your fingers curl into your side as Mr. Styles continues to rub your hips roughly, his own waist rutting into you that your lashes flutter in pure satisfaction. This feels so good.

“I’m sorry.” Whisper trailing out so soft and quiet that you sound innocent and so sweet, like you didn’t drag them into your game; but the only difference now is that the two grown men sandwiched on either side of you are smarter than that.

Both of them laugh hauntingly, touch continuing to roam and grope to the point you're a moaning mess under their touch, especially when your father fits his other hand between your legs and feels you through your soiled panties.

A deep breath spills from your lips while both hands go to wrap along his wrist, eyes bulging and chest flexing towards his as Mr. Styles shoves you deeper when grinding against you. Thin fingers glide through your folds making you feel the dampness of your panties press against your heated skin.

“You hear that, she’s sorry.” Your stepfather breathes against your lips, so close and teasing that you shiver under the pressure.

“Oh, that’s so hard to believe.” Your teacher smiles against your skin that the air you ingest does little to calm your pinching nerves.

“Do you think that little apology is enough for us?” His hand gripping your breast even rougher as his fingers gently feel over your wet clothed hole. “After everything you put us through?”

Your head shakes slowly, eyes never breaking contact as you continue to let them feel over your body. He is right, after all the tricks you play that barely audible plea isn’t enough, especially with the way they touch and tease you it’s clear the apology that they’re looking for isn’t something that you can just say to squeeze yourself out of this situation.

“Having my job on the line…” Mr. Styles coos while pressing his lips into your thumping pulse.

“And my marriage…” Mr. Malik so close to your lips that you whimper at the near feel of him.

“So we think it’s only right for us to have our turn with you. The way we want.”

Warm breath falls over your lips so alluring and dominant that you can’t help yourself from surging forward and locking yours with his. The cool spearmint on his tongue travels through your lips and along yours as they wrap around each other.

It’s been months since you’ve gone without the delectable taste of him that it has you moaning immediately from the touch and the way he floats across your tastebuds. So sweet yet musky, so strong yet soft.

You missed him so much… the way he tastes, the way he feels, how he completely envelops every twitch that itches through your body. A high moan rakes through your throat, head swaying to the side as Mr. Styles begins to nip and suck at your neck, the slick feel of your skin growing hot and bruised only makes your ass back into the teacher further while your father continues to fondle you.

Plush lips slouch amongst yours with ease as the alluring taste of him is so delicious that your fingers curl even tighter around his wrist. Teasingly his mouth pulls away, teeth biting into flesh and tugging gently which only further reminds you of your need for him.

“Miss me?” Hazel eyes peeling open to watch your lips part, heavy breath drawing in as his index finger curves deeper into your hole. The restraint of your lace panties peeking into your flesh has you shivering.

“Yes.” You sigh with grip loosening and head cranning towards him.

The answer to his question has Mr. Styles nails sink deeper into your skin as they rake along your waist. Such heavy motions leaving scratches to the point it sends chills throughout that you can’t help but shudder at the feel.

The split ends of his curls rub against the temple of your forehead which causes your sight to turn and look towards him who doesn’t hesitate to lean forward. His lips sinking onto yours and enveloping the sweet taste of him. His saliva sweeps through your bloodstream tasting of honey and him, and just like that you're back to moaning underneath his touch.

Your tongue accepts the way he fills your mouth and fights for dominance. So rough and demanding as he rubs his muscle against yours in pure satisfaction. The two flavors of them mixing together and injesting themselves throughout your system was heaven and you simply just want more of it.

Your fathers hand prodes away at your hole shallowly, his own breath fanning across the other side of your neck as you continue to whimper against the man french kissing you.

It’s the combination of their grips gracing your skin and lips pressing love into exposed flesh that has you pull from the exchange out of breath. Heart pounding in your ear and nails pinching into the material of your step fathers blazer.

The feelings coursing through is something you never felt before; both men giving you the attention that you love so much, that you crave so much and adore… the attention that you truly deserve. It was intoxicating and better than anything you can imagine, it’s why your eyes have a screen of submission crossing over, and why you look towards your dad with your cheeks all heated and lips bruised.

“Can I sir?” Voice coming out in a wisp of uncertainty but desire. The sound being so pleasant that it has your father smile down at you.

“Can you what?” He reiterates, fingers leaving their position to run up your folds and play with your clit.

It makes you whine, head bobbing a bit as Mr. Styles lands heavy pecks into your neck. His hands now feeling across the ends of your skirt cup your cheeks and force you forward into your dad.

“Can I have you both… please?” Lashes blinking up at him as your lip sucks itself between your teeth.

Such words falling from your mouth has your father’s signature look tug across his features, his grip leaving your legs and fitting his fingers into your mouth. He watches closely the way they enter and how you don’t hesitate to immediately suck them.

Tongue twisting around skinny fingers tasting the muted taste of yourself as doe eyes stare up at him as he continues to fit them deeper and deeper into your throat. The pads of his digits collect the saliva draping along the service, heavy grip rubbing along your taste buds making you softly moan at the feel.

His version goes dark, eyes flickering as his sight drinks you in; plush lips and wet pussy just letting his fingers slide through your heavenly mouth, it makes him groan lowly, touch drawing away and running your spit across your lips, his touch tracing your cupid’s bow as your mouth parts erotically simply loving the attention.

“Cherry… my dear… you never had a choice.”

Those words have your skin burn even brighter, flesh still flexing against his fingers as he smiles hauntingly.

So this was their plan when left alone, lead you to the third floor where no one would be and let them have their way with you. This was hot, like extremely hot, nothing that you could’ve imagined before.

“Why don’t you get on your knees.” Mr. Styles breathes into your ear, his palms feeling over your ass before landing a soft smack that has your father chuckle so sinisterly that it makes your pussy throb.

Your head nods just at the same time your father pulls his fingers away, his body stepping back slightly as his hands fall to his belt only leading you to bend your knees. One hand balancing itself behind you on your teacher's thigh as the other holds onto your father's hip.

Jingling of metal sounds throughout the space before it's being met with slacks drawing down skin. Mr. Styles shuffles closer amongst the floor while your body positions itself better in front of them as if repenting for the sins about to happen.

Big round eyes dazzle in the soft light as you watch both of them reveal their erect cocks. Your father is lengthy and skinny compared to your teacher, all thick and girthy, it has you licking your lips with sight looking between the two completely captivated.

The left hand perched along Mr. Styles thigh creeps up his pelvic bone while the one situated on your father's hip roams amongst his skin to grip his dick. Fingers encasing around his length and tugging downwards gently as you don’t hesitate to lean forward and suck the head of his cock into your mouth.

It’s salty and sweet, just the way you like him which has you moaning immediately. Lashes batting up at him as your lips sink further letting spit coating him in every inch of your mouth descending further till he reaches the back of your throat. Eyes flick up at him as the swollen head of him tickles your uvula, the fingers wrapped around him slides down with ease as you draw back up his cock.

Leaning forward your lips to pierce together to let a heavy droplet of spit paint his cock, your fingers drawing up him to curl around the extra coat of lube to drag back down.

Humming pleasantly your head turns towards your teacher as the hand on his hip carries his cock towards your mouth. Tongue stretching out to run along the underside of him as you look up, his brown curls tossed behind his face as he begins to undo the buttons of his dress shirt.

Unknown ink being exposed along his flesh that has you grinning against his warm cock, mouth drawing from the base of him and humming pleasantly at how good he looks.

“You’re so handsome.” You comment before you run your tongue across the slit of his crown.

It makes Mr. Styles hiss immediately, his hands going to either side of your face with a smirk drawing across his lips as you tear away smiling at him.

“So pretty…” Mouth parting as you finally envelope him. Velvet walls sucking him in lovingly as your hand curls around the width of him.

Spit encases the erect flesh as he fills up your mouth. His grip over your jaw forces you to swallow him down just like the first time. Nose brushing along his groin just as he tags the back of your throat.

Your eyes roll at the feel of your airway closing around him, the hand wrapped around the base of his cock curls around the underside as you trail back up his cock. Saliva strung along the head of him to your tongue swirling around his crown before you’re moaning and pulling away.

Mr. Styles hands fall from your face as your sight looks over your step father who begins removing his blazer just as your mouth wraps around his dick. Tongue circling around his girth as your fingers glide up and down his lengthy cock while twisting it in opposite directions.

That’s how your knees end up bruised in the passing moments, lips moving between the two cocks in front of your face as the men before you begin undressing and treating you like the object that you are.

Swelling crowns diving deep till they touch the back of your throat, hands carding through your hair with each exchange urging you to take them further and further till you’re pulling away begging for air.

Tears breech your waterline as your chest burns in pain, your throat strains itself with each descent of their wet cocks abusing your throat. It aches but in the most beautiful way because the sight bestowed upon you is absolutely remarkable.

Such handsome grown men using you as their toy. Sexy tattooed skin, tall firm bodies and their gorgeous spit soaked erections leaving you drunk at the sight. Touch running across flesh as their lips part, electing moans as their sight never tears away from watching every movement you make.

Twisting wrist and red tongue sending pleasure to both as they observe how eager you are at this moment compared to before. How dainty and scared to now swallow them down so needy and submissive.

“Here, come here,” Your father rushes as your lips pull away from the underside of his cock. His grip is rough as he drags you up by your shoulders, palm pushing you into the desk as the other lands a deafening smack against your ass.

“Fuck!” Raspy voice crying out as you feel his fingers roughly shove your panties down your legs. Without waiting a second his fingers are drawing down your folds collecting your juices before thrusting into your dripping hole.

A moan carries out of your sore throat, nails curling into the gloss over the oak desk, as your eyes catch on the intricate detail of the butterfly tattoo plastered along Mr. Styles abdomen.

His hands carry your chin away from the table to press his lips against yours. Soft lingering peppermint tongue gracing yours as your father drags his fingers out to thrust back in.

His touch collects the juices you expel to curl into your pussy so beautifully that you can’t help but to break away from the kiss with a moan. Sight flickering open to catch Mr. Styles' green eyes watching the way your lips fall apart to sing such a beautiful tune.

His thumb leaves your chin to swipe along your bitten flesh, rough pad of his finger tugging at the skin before he’s leaning over and peppering soft kisses against your whimpering mouth.

“Take this off.” Your father orders interrupting the affection being displayed as his free hand tugs at your blazer.

Mouths part away from each other as you raise off your elbows, hands pulling at the ends of your school uniform as Mr. Styles helps with tugging it down your shoulders. The clear buttons of your button up are next as he begins undoing them to reveal your bra clad chest.

Your hands immediately go behind your back to unclasp it, your bouncy breast displaying itself with swollen nipples that your teacher can’t help but lean down and capture them between his lips. Warm mouth sucking you in so heavenly as your father slides his fingers in so gracefully that it was impossible for you to not contain yourself from every nerve consuming you.

“Please sir, please?” You call just as your dress shirt runs down your shoulder when letting your hands run through Mr. Styles curls.

Your father’s fingers thrust back in leisurely feeling your slick nectar encase themselves around every fold of his skin as your sweet wetness adds comfort as he continues to thrust into your plush walls.

Feet shuffle amongst the floor as Mr. Malik dots kisses down the wings of your spine, his fingers continuing to curl into your pussy as his lips trail down your back. His knees flexing as his other hand grips your backside roughly pulling your cheeks apart as he lets his face descend down your lower back to lie between your cheeks.

Wet muscle slithering along your asshole just as his fingers draw away to spread your other cheek apart to run his tongue down your pussy. A harmonious moan floats from your mouth at the adventurous pleasure floating between both holes.

A warm vibration floats along your skin at your father moaning from the taste of you. Tongue trailing out from his mouth to replace where his fingers once were. Strong yet tantalizing touch dipping into your pussy to taste your juices that has your toes curl at the feel.

Such sensual touch roaming all over your body has your heart pounding in your ear. From Mr. Styles sucking your nipples into his mouth to your father continuing to spread your ass even further to let his love run though, the feeling roaming throughout is absolutely unexplainable.

Your chest falls deeper into your teacher, fingers dragging out of his hair and down his neck with another moan escaping into the air.

Every object in the room bears witness to the sinful actions taking place. How grown men have their way with a girl who played them both in the first place, how her actions lead her to be bent over the desk ready for anything in store. How this crude behavior on the premises of the school should leave everybody in the room full with such disgrace however does the exact opposite.

It has your father groan against your pussy in pure arousal as his lips curl against your sweet ones as he draws up your slit to bury his tongue into your asshole. “Yes, fuck, yes.” Bitten flesh curling into your mouth trying to restrain yourself from drawing blood from your teacher's skin.

Mr. Malik's right hand peels away for you to spread your cheeks once more. His mouth pulling away just in time to land a thick saliva teardrop running down your second hole to lead down the slit of your pussy.

His breath floats up your back, his hand smacking your heated ass cheeks once more before taking himself into his hands. Without second thought the crown of his cock runs over the mess as his lips skim across the nape of your neck leaving a trail of goosebumps.

“You like this, huh?” Voice in your ear as if a second conscious while he continues to rub himself along you. “Like being our toy to play with… to use…”

Rough grip landing another demanding strike that jerks your body closer into the grown man still feeling along your breasts; and to add the pleasure does your father finally thrust into your pussy.

Every inch of him drags down your walls slowly to let you feel every inch of him, make you remember all you've been missing out on when someone else has been on your mind. He wants it ingrained in your mind everything you forgot about when not back home and under your covers.

“Tell me baby, tell me,” Teeth biting at your ear lobe just as his hips meet your backside. The feeling of his lengthy cock pressed tightly against your sweet spot leaves you shivering once again.

Mr. Styles pulls away from your swollen nipples, his lips running up your chest to consume every whimper falling from your lips.

Just as much as he wants to admire the beauty of your face completely drunk off pleasure he can’t help but feel jealousy surge through him. The way your lashes flutter to your nose twitching, it just leaves him with thoughts of him only being the one who should be making you feel like that.

It’s why one of his hands wraps around your throat to allow your gaze to connect while the other takes your wrist off the desk and brings it towards his cock, your fingers immediately wrapping around him as a whimper floats out of your mouth when your father thrusts back in.

“Such a dirty girl.” Mr. Styles says against your parted lips. His mouth swallowing every moan crawling out as your eyes shine and let your touch drag down his cock. “Like getting fucked by your step-dad, huh?” His grip tightening around your throat as your head bobs with each stroke pleasuring every part of you.

That’s the thing you loved about your father the most, the fact he fills you up so beautifully, so lean and lengthy that it tags your cervix each time that has you a panting mess begging for more. Your dress shirt is messily running down your arm, skirt hiked up with a screen of sweat roaming over your skin as you continue to bounce to each drum of the assault fucking you into oblivion.

“Mmm I missed him…” You sigh, lashes batting as your wrist loosely jerks your teacher off. “I missed him so much.” You mumble intoxicated with the way his cock drags down your walls enticingly.

The comment only makes Mr. Styles bite down on his lip, nostril flaring and eyes burning a different hue of green. His touch tenses against your skin as the look over your face combined with your breath hitching urges himself to draw away from you and force your head towards his cock.

Your father smirks, his hand continuing to spread your cheeks to watch where you both meet every time he thrusts back into you. Creamy discharge wrapping around him to glisten in the soft light and run over every protruding vein that displays his desire towards you, and now the scene before him with you proclaiming how much you miss him right in front of the man who has your attention while at this boarding school, his paste only increases.

“That’s my good girl, that’s my cherry.” His other hand running up your spine to hold the nape of your neck and control your movements as your mouth wraps around Mr. Styles cock.

Each stride into your pussy causes your mouth to move down his dick further as your grip continues to grope down the expanse.

Plump lips sucking him down as your father pinches your sweet spot each time he draws out to plunge back in. You’re so turned on with both men having their way that your pussy emits squelching sobs every time he rocks back in.

The oak desk jerks with every pound of his hips as he fucks you into the desk. Pen, name plate, and even the chair tucked into the table shuffling with each time you're being plowed into the table. The two bodies in the room relishing in the feeling of them using you after all the mind games you put them through, it’s completely thrilling to them, especially to you.

One cock sending undeniable pleasure while the other stretches your throat. You could die right now and be happy at the feeling of them spreading you apart and using you as their toy.

“Fuck… sir…” Mouth tearing away from your teacher's cock leaving a string of saliva from his head to connect to your lips.

Knees flex forward as your right foot subconsciously lifts up towards your calf as you feel your nerves pinch and tug up your spine as your pussy continues to accept every jab. The hand perched next to your stomach tears away from the table to sink between your pelvis to try and rub your clit.

“No, no, no,” Mr. Malik coos as his free hand captures your forearm and wraps it around your back halting your movements.

“Gonna cum my way,” He grunts with grip twisting your skin while he continues barreling down your walls. “Or not at all.”

“Sir,” You plead with fingers tightening around your teacher's cock as your head continues to jerk forward.

“C’mon cherry, come on my cock.” Mr. Malik demands, his hand slipping away from your neck to collect your hair in his grasp and turn your head around.

His sight watches your eyes barely remain open as your chest inhales heavily at the physical touch racing your heart erratically. His dominating touch peels your vision back as the other restricts you from doing anything further to your body that he doesn’t want.

“Do it baby, just the way I like.” He continues to egg on as his hips now sound throughout the room only making your spine curve further into the desk.

And Mr. Styles watches everything happen; the way your eyes roll, brows itch together as your voice elects the most beautiful moan just in time as your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. His hands by your temple run through your hair seeking to comfort as gasps begin to travel between your lips.

“Mhmm,” Your father hums in encouragement as his paste never halts but continues as he fucks your through your orgasm. “That’s my cherry.” His grip releases along your wrist to drag down your back and hold your hip.

“That’s my good girl.” He groans as your plush walls continue to tick around him in the feverish aftermath of your climax. “Right?” Hand in your hair tugging your head gently as your eyes completely glossed over in lust nod up at him.

His lips tug into a smirk before his sight cuts towards Mr. Styles, tongue peeking out of his mouth before his free hand falls from your hip and collects himself as he pulls out. The feeling of him leaving you empty only has you crying out pathetically.

The two men switch places; this time your teacher is perching one of your knees up onto the desk as the other pushes your skirt even higher up your hips. Your father steps in front of you with a glistening cock and swollen balls that have you licking your lip at the sight.

“Oh my god.” You moan as you feel Mr. Styles replace where Mr. Malik just was. His thickness expands your walls just to apply even more pressure against your cervix as he continues to spread you out when nestling himself between your folds.

Your head turns with hands balancing you along the desk, view cascading down the muscular teacher holding your sides as he presses himself tightly against your dripping lips. Mouth parting open in pure arousal as draws away to thrust back in only making you feel like he’s stretching you out more then your father.

“Daddy,” You cry, nails curling into the wood as sight never breaks away from his hips drawing back and hair framing his face with stride. “You feel so good.”

Compliment trailing out without second thought as you whimper in complete enjoyment of him fucking you right after your dad just did. His cock fills you up so heavy and delicious that you’re shivering at the feel, mouth hanging open and brows relaxing as he strokes into you heavenly.

Mr. Malik teeth clench down amongst each other at the sight before him, how you’re so enthralled with the feeling consuming you that the teacher bestows that his hand goes behind your neck, grip tightening to try and turn your attention but however, you’re not budging.

“Yeah… you like this, don’t you bunny?” Teasing voice of your teacher floating into the heated atmosphere as his eyes never tear away from your bouncing breasts and submissive face.

“Yes, daddy… you feel so good,” You gush at the same time you let your hips retreat back into his only having the head of his cock tag your g-spot each time.

“That’s right,” He grunts with one hand leaving your hips and tugging at the collar of your dress shirt to drape it off your arms and leave your upper half completely nude.

“That’s my good bunny.”

That nickname so foreign to your step-father makes his grip even tighter as he finally directs your attention to look forward. Baby hairs collecting with sweat by your forehead as your mouth continues to expel harmonious moans at the feeling conveying throughout your body.

Mr. Malik's upper lip rubs against his nose as his head shakes disappointedly, his chin tilting for a moment before his head is leaning towards your ear.

“Look at you being the whore you are.” Such disrespectful words that should turn you off doing the complete opposite as you sigh pleasantly at the comment.

“Like getting fucked by two men? Like getting passed around like the dirty slut you are, huh?” His other hand going towards his cock as you continue to moan and whimper as your body jerks into his chest from each thrust.

“Every time I’ve asked you something you’ve been ignoring me… but not him.” His teeth kissing against each other as his grip continues to tighten. “Calling him your daddy before me, you’re so fucked up cherry.”

A high pitch moan escapes as Mr. Styles' paste increases, his waist clapping into your backside as your vision continues to bob between your fathers caramel skin and the chalkboard nailed to the wall.

“All that I do for you and this is how you repay me?” Voice filled with dissatisfaction as he raises up and brings his cock towards your mouth.

“Mm- I’m sorry,” You whine, eyes looking up at him sincere as your hand leaves the desk to curl around his dazzling cock.

“No, you’re not.” Mr. Malik comments while shaking his head once more while continuing to urge your head down. “Sluts like you are never sorry.”

The crown of his dick breaks through your lips and has you taste your climax as he forces you to take all of him. His hand once holding himself cards through your hair and collects the strands into a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down.

“Yeah, do what you’re meant to do.” He grunts as your head bobs from the thrusts behind you that control your movements from inching further and further down him.

Mr. Malik was more than furious that he had to find out you were being devious and giving yourself away to men who weren’t him. From your failed previous attempt to the one fucking you on his desk he’s pissed off. He should never have to share you nor have to confront the issue that you’ve been ignoring his every demand unless being controlled to do so. You have him fighting to restrain himself from demanding more attention out of you as you lie spread out taking another man’s dick.

And it wasn’t helping that he was pleasuring you in ways he just was. Vibrating mouth and burning skin displaying itself each time Mr. Styles thrusts back into you and how your pussy emits the sweetest noise that he wants on repeat. He wants to tear you off of him, punish you the way he wants, but right now, the feeling of your throat gasping for air from being too drunk off the sensations combing through he’ll take what he can get until you finally return home.

“Holy shit!” You groan as your mouth pulls away to allow air to fill your lungs. Swollen lips falling apart as you both find the perfect rhythm of his cock filling you up just right as your hips meet his every time.

“That’s right, take it like a good girl.” Mr. Styles encourages as his hand twists around the cloth along your hips and pulls you closer to him only making his cock delve deeper into your walls.

“Yeah, a good girl who likes to get double dipped, right?” Your father’s teasing voice including himself as he watches your tongue escape your mouth to lick the slit along his head.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” You moan with one hand leaving the desk and curling around his cock to twist it down the expanse of him. “I like it… I like it so much.” Words coming out drowsy and needy as you look over his dick glistening in your fluid as your teacher continues to bury you into the table.

“Yeah, you love it don’t you?” Mr. Styles encourages as one hand leaves his hips to land a smack against your already bruised flesh that leaves you crying outl.

“Daddy,” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you feel tingles begin to run up the bottom of your foot. Stomach fluttering against the now sweaty service as your pussy continues to accept every tormenting thrust.

“Dirty fucking slut.” Your father breathes out as your hand curls up his shaft with a tight grip as your head begins to sway. Goosebumps spreading along your body as your limbs begin to shake at the waves rippling through.

“I can’t.. daddy… sir…” Fumbling over your words as your mouth parts and hips still against your teacher. Your hand halting its movements as your body lies across the desk with no effort to balance yourself from your orgasm racing through.

“Tell daddy you love it, tell me bunny.” Mr. Styles calls as he never slows down. Aggressive thrusts continue to bruise your cervix with each jab unable to resist the pulsing feeling over your climax wrapping around him.

“Mmm my god, I love it,” You cry, your hand leaving your fathers cock to drag against the table as your heart thumps against your chest. “I love it so much.” Blabbering into the desk as your eyes flutter and mind goes completely blank, the only thing coherent is the dick sending sensation through every bone in your body.

“Look at her,” Mr. Malik comments, his fingers drawing through your hair as you moan into the desk with spit dripping from your lips so high off dick that you’re on a whole other planet. “Cock drunk, innit.” He chuckles mischievously, having fun at breaking you down.

“Yes… I’m so… in love… I love this so much,” Moaning the words out sloppily as your nails drag down the expanse of the glossy service trying to regain consciousness.

A drumming beat swells along your pelvic bone as tears prick your eyes from the feeling encasing itself all over you. Such heavy thickness spreading you out to leave your pussy a soiled mess with puffy lips and drench folds. It’s mind numbing how immersed you are with the arousal coursing through your body, how every limp lies weak and tired as you lose control of your muscles and lie squirming along the desk.

“You’re so good… such a good girl,” Your father coos as his fingers continue to card through your hair.

Chest continues heave erratically as Mr. Styles hips begin to roll into your body, his grip controlling your hips to relax as he pastes himself. Sweaty fingertips persuading movements as the two men watch over how consumed you are by such pleasure. How your body twitches against the desk and mouth humming every few seconds trying to grasp a single comprehensive nerve.

“Letting us use like this,” Mr. Styles adds with thrust dragging slowly down your walls. “You’re the best bunny.” As his face leans down to press kisses amongst the wings of your back.

Again, annoyance flares through your father. His eyes shift away from your wrecked expression to cut his eyes towards the teacher who pays no mind to him when he dots his love along your shoulder. Fingers escape your hair to run along your neck before he’s leaning forward in your ear.

“I can make you feel better cherry,” He mutters while enveloping the sweet smell of your perfume that he’s missed so much when nestle in this spot. “Haven’t you missed me?”

“Yes sir… please?” You moan without hesitation as the feel of his thick beard rubs against your skin, so prickly yet smooth that it eases the adrenaline coursing through.

The familiar chuckle running across your cheek only reminds you just how much you’ve missed how playful and commanding he is over you. How you’ve missed his lengthy cock touching you just right as he roughs you up just the way you like, oh how you missed him tremendously.

“Switch.” Mr. Malik states as he pulls away from your face. His sight watching closely as Mr. Styles lands one last kiss along the shoulder opposite of him before he draws out of your bruised pussy.

They round the desk once again; this time Mr. Malik positions you on your back with the ends of your skirt running across your stomach and erect nipples on display. It’s the view before him that is just another reminder to your father why he’s so in love with you and the games you play. How cherry red and swollen your pussy looks, all wide and exposed with your juices glistening in the light that he can’t help himself but to lean forward and suck your lips into his mouth.

Tongue dragging up and down your stretched hole as he hums pleasantly from the mixed taste of you on his tongue. “Sir…” You moan delightfully, eyes rolling erotically as your back flexes against the damp desk.

“Always treat me so good,” You gasp just as he runs his flesh over your clit and circles it around his taste buds making you quiver against the feel.

He groans against you, one hand leaving your hip to collect your fingers along the desk and intertwine them together. Reassuring touch displaying itself in the heated room that Mr. Styles can’t help but feel envious at the pleasure he now brings you. He takes himself into his own hand and shifts along to where your head lies across the desk, his grip tapping his dick along your cheek.

Without hesitation your mouth is opening yet barely giving the needed attention as your father continues to swirl your bundles of nerves along his tongue.

“C’mon bunny, you can do better than that.” Mr. Styles comments just as another moan escapes your mouth with head falling back from Mr. Malik sucking your pussy back into his mouth.

“But daddy, it feels so good.” You moan with sight tearing away from your fathers nose rubbing against you to look towards your teacher who flares up at the comment.

He collects his dick back in his hand to tug himself off as he leans down, other hand holding your locks to lift your head to the point you get an even better view of your dad lapping his tongue all over you.

“I bet I can eat you pussy better than that.” Mr. Styles whispers so alluring that it has your heart singing at the words. “I know I make you feel better.” He continues with stubble rubbing against the temple of your forehead only making your eyes roll once again.

Both men in your ear jealous of each other having their way with you was the last thing you expected especially since they were the one who came up with this plan. Yet, both of them are possessive of your attention and telling you how much better they can make you feel compared to the other, god, you can really die happy right now.

“Daddy always knows how to treat you right, always knows what to do.” He mutters as he continues to jerk off to the whimpers falling across his neck.

“Yes, yes you do.” Moaning along to his words as you watch your father lick back up your folds sloppily to swirl your clit along his tongue once more before pulling away and positioning himself over your swollen hole.

“That’s my bunny… my good girl.” Mr. Styles encourages as he feels your breath hitch amongst his skin. “Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, c’mon, tell me.”

“I’m daddy’s —Oh, fuck!” You cry out just as Mr. Malik pushes in, his cock easily descending down your wall as finds his paste and brings himself back to reminding you of what you missed out on.

The solid feel of him thumping against your walls so stretched and ruined from these two has your mouth hanging open. Sight still watches closely as his long cock drives into your drenched pussy while you have the best view of it happening as your teacher continues to prop your head up for you to watch.

“Come on love, get it out.” Mr. Malik smirks as his hand leaves yours to collect your bouncing breast. “Tell us how much you love being a dirty little slut.” He adds with other hand gripping your knee and pushing it towards your chest as he takes lengthy rough strides into your pussy.

“Love being stretched out, huh? Having me and your teacher share you. Such a dirty dirty girl.” He continues to gas as he bruises your sweet spot with little effort in such a short amount of time.

“Oh my god,” You moan with sight blurring towards your father and hand reaching out to grab Mr. Styles’ body.

You’re completely overstimulated and frankly every single time your step dad draws his hips to thrust back in you feel as if you want to explode. His head continuously rubs along your g-spot and leaves you a soaking mess of sweat and your sweet fluid. This feeling is so foreign, from two different cocks barreling down your walls to the third climax already making itself known, you might just pass out.

“This is so hot,” You whine as nails draw down your teacher's skin as you both continue to watch his cock disappear and have you jerking up the desk as a result of the new position. “Fuck this feels so good.” As your repetto heels dangle in the air as Mr. Malik’s lean body continues to plow into your tired pussy.

“Don’t stop, please.” You encourage as your gaze begins to trail away and sight become clouded from your eyelids drifting you away into the pleasure barreling down your spine.

Your father doesn’t object or even halt his alluring motions to tease you. He continues to fuck you just the way you like; fast and hard to point he’s leaving little space between your hips as he thrust back in not only loving the way you feel wrapped around him but also the look crossing over your face.

Heated cheeks, glossy eyes, and twitching nose as your mouth expels hesitant moans as if unable to control yourself from coming undone for the third time. Looking as if on another planet from the expression crossing over as if discovering a new found wonder. Your jaw goes slack, sight becoming drowsy and spit falling from your bottom lip as the grip you have along your teacher's chest tears away as one cards through your hair and the other goes to rub your clit only increasing the pleasure coursing through.

“Jesus… fuck… I can’t—” Words being cut off as a squeal rips through your throat as a wave of arousal squirts along your fathers abdomen.

The feeling so intense it has your thighs shake against his never ending thrusts as your movements never halt from the pads of your fingers continuing to circle along your bundle of nerves. “Mmm, sir… sir… sir.” Humming his name as your hand leaves your hair and presses against his jolting hips.

Your waist retreats into the desk at the overwhelming feeling crashing over you. How the plummeting assaults of his thrust made a mess all over your father and the school floors.

Mr. Malik lets his strides relax, his touch along your breasts feeling over your side as pulls out. The empty feeling of him leaving as well as the aftermath of your orgasm has you crying softly.

“Look so pretty, baby.” He comments before he’s leaning down again and slurping the remaining juices just projected.

“Holy shit.” You sigh as your hold travels to his hair tickling amongst your inner thigh.

Your step-father is doing everything in his power to spark all your memories together and Mr. Styles finds it obvious, and sure enough it has him fuming. It already pissed him off that you had a father figure, making him seem like he’s the only one. But, it wasn’t even that. It was the fact that he plays with you the way he wants, and the way he’s been imagining and dying to do ever since he felt you wrapped around him.

He gets to spend all this time with you and have your attention whenever needed but with him he has to fight and play petty games with his own student. He’s jealous, how can he not be? He finally had you just to discover there was someone else which only makes him having to prove himself even further by having mark his territory someway, somehow.

“Switch.” Mr. Styles demands letting his grip over your hair gently place you back on the table. Mr. Malik’s eyes cut towards the teacher before his lips are sucking your folds into his mouth once more. Flesh parting with a pop as he pulls away from his turn.

“Mmm… sir,” You whimper as his handsome face comes into view, his touch drawing up your stomach as you bat your eyes at him. “I missed you so much.”

“I know baby, I know.” He coos as he takes himself into his hand and examines the way your breasts shift to how you look completely ruined.

“I missed you too… how good you are to me, I missed you so much.” He reveals which only has Mr. Styles reeling. His eyes turn away from the sight before him as he collects himself to push into your pussy.

“Fuck,” Your view turning away from your father and towards the teacher slowly stroking himself in you.

“Mhmm… look at me while I fuck you bunny.” Teacher boasting concedingly as he gently nestles his hips alongside yours before pulling away and drawing back in steadily that it has you crying out.

“This feels so good,” You moan. One hand drawing up your body to rest along your fathers chest as the other goes towards your pussy and feels where you two both meet.

“Yeah, that’s what I like to hear.” He grunts as he begins to jerk his thrust roughly into you that you’re jolting up the desk and whining pathetically.

Mr. Malik lips twist into his mouth as he looks over you enjoying yourself as the teacher has his turn. He pays attention to your erect nipples and swaying head as your nails curve into his skin and drag down the expanse, you’re loving this experience as if on a whole new high that you want to ride on forever, and your father can’t help but moan lowly at the sight at how used you look.

Messy hair, sweat collecting around your temples as you spread your legs wide to continue to let them assault your pussy any way they want. You’re so eager, ready to please and deliver this perfect pussy on a platter to these two men just by persuading words and alluring touch. God, you turn him on more than you’ll ever know, cause as much as he hates sharing you, watching your face completely blissed out and screwed was sexy.

His free hand collects yours running across his chest and guides it towards his cock. Fingers immediately wrapping around him and jerking the lengthy cock in your palm as your other hand feels each time Mr. Styles presses himself snug against your pussy before drawing out with all his girth to slot himself back in roughly and repeat those devious motions.

“Oh. My. God.” Words falling out with each aggressive thrust as he never stops stretching you out.

“You’re pussy is so wet,” Mr. Styles grunts in pleasure, absolutely loving the way you feel around him with the added feeling over your fingers lingering alongside his wet cock whenever pulling out.

“It’s fucking amazing,” He moans before his hands are wrapping around your thighs to pull further into him.

Body drags amongst the heated service as he tightens his grip to make you feel every inch of him as he dips back into your slick walls, so bruised and tired as he continues to stretch you out. It burns in the most pleasurable way possible, the difference in cocks filling you up to the point you're intoxicated off such emotions coursing through.

Thick member coated in a mixture of fluid from all three bodies adding comfort to sore walls that aid you in feeling as if being underwater. The head of his cock pounds away at your cervix until he pulls out, letting you feel every veiny pulse of him thump against your tired walls to breech yourself along your wide hole before pushing back in again.

“Daddy… I love the way you make me feel.” You whimper as your hand tightens around your father as eyes look towards your teacher who leans forward.

His mouth parts to welcome your touch sloppily pressing against his when his hips strike into your pussy beautifully. The jolting of his waist only makes your lips bump each other messingly as he drinks in every sound you make.

“Daddy.” You whine pathetically as your neck no longer finds the strength to look over him fucking you but to fall against the clammy desk and catch sight between the two men captivated by your prescence.

“Bunny.” Mr. Styles grunts as his lips descend down your neck and goes over the hickeys scratching the service.

The frayed ends of his curls bob in your vision as your father's eyes detect every twitch combing over your frame. His feeling through your hair as he steps closer to you which only encourages your mouth to lean over to suckle the crown of his cock.

“Ah fuck, cherry.” Mr. Malik groans as his head leans back in distraught at how you drive him insane so easily.

Hearing both of your nicknames pass through their lips while having their touch roam all across your skin to fill you up repeatedly that it doesn’t surprise you at your climax making itself known in just a matter of seconds. The most exhilarating feeling sparks every vein in your body with shivers in adrenaline at your fourth climax overtaking you.

Sinking pleasure builds up in your abdomen once more that only leaves you to relieving yourself by letting your fingertips rub against your clit and have another wave of arousal trickle out of your pussy. A broken whine ripping from your throat as your eyes tear up by being so enthralled due to the feeling overcoming you.

“That’s it baby,” Mr. Styles breathes against your skin as his hips never stop their riveting motions. The feeling of you pulsing around erratically has him groaning at the feel. Tiny squirms blanketing him in pure warmth and wetness that his hips stutter when drawing back.

His love pulls away from your neck to look and watch the way you wrap around him all snug. Your pussy lips rippling against each movement of him into your exhausted heat still accepting every jab into your soiled box.

“Daddy…” You whine once again as your hand pulls your fathers cock away from your mouth to collect his balls and fit them in their place. The delicate feel of your lips sucking them into your mouth has Mr. Malik scratch your scalp lovingly.

“Jesus Christ.” He moans while letting his free hand enclose around his cock and jerk himself off.

Swollen glands glistening in the glow of the room as your lips obnoxiously slurp all around him and hum pleasantly while Mr. Styles still rocks into you. It has his eyes roll at the sight; seeing your mouth stuffed and put to work as your pussy lies spread out and abused on his desk. It’s the sight alone that has his hips twitching once more, with vision blurring as his neck cranes down just about ready to fall apart.

“Holy shit.” He sighs, as his grip against your thighs begin to leave bruises in their wake at the feeling of you wrapping around him is on a whole nother level. “You’re such a good girl, such a good fuckin girl.” He grunts as he can’t help his next thrusts from being messy and uncoordinated as his toes begin to curl.

The compliment is so reassuring that subconsciously you bat your lashes up in the position you're laid in, the connection between your step father and you as you suck his balls into your mouth so greedily like you were starving only made it right for him to cum at the sight.

The grip in your hair controls your head as he pulls you away from his sack and lets his seed paint itself across your cheek to dribble into the middle of your tongue. Yet, at the same time your teacher is emptying himself into your disheveled hole as he continues to fuck himself through his orgasm as your father taps away the remaining fluid he expels along the tip of your lips.

“Mhmm… that’s my cherry.” Mr. Malik hushes before he’s pulling away from his position over you. The hand that wrapped around his cock collecting the cum along your cheek and fitting it into your mouth just like the beginning of this escapade.

“My favorite girl.” He adds, as he watches you moan around his fingers and twirl your tongue around the digit.

Mr. Styles continues to thrust himself in sluggishly, the overwhelming feeling of his cum and your own juices overflowing in your pussy that with each draw out of the tired walls does traces of your combined fluids drip and run down your swollen lips.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” He breathes out before his hand is released from your thigh as he takes himself in his hand. Cock sliding out of your pussy to let the mixture ooze out of your warmth in a thick cream pie that has you moaning at the feel.

“Mhmm…” You hum, with sight looking between your father dragging his wet finger amongst your bruised lips to swipe your saliva amongst the flesh to your teacher who watches your sore pussy dazzle in the light.

“That was good, wasn’t it baby?” Mr. Malik questions while letting his touch trail across your skin to bring your focus back to him.

You immediately nod your head. Tongue escaping your mouth to run across your lips and offer an exhausted smile as your fingers shake nervously amongst your overused clit.

“It was amazing.” You breathe out as you feel your teachers come begin to seep along the folds of your cheeks as your father begins to sit you up in a better position.

“I’m glad… but you do need to hurry up and dress. Your mother is probably on her way back by now.” The mention of your older peer is enough to have your burning thighs closing amongst each other as your elbow fixes your posture on the desk as you lean forward, an overpitched whine tearing through your throat at the soggy feel of liquid running down your inner thigh to the way your pussy feels so used.

“W-what’s wrong?” Mr. Styles questions while stepping forward and taking your hip in his hand as Mr. Malik gives him cut eye at the affection while he rubs your back.

“She’s fine, just worked up. Isn’t that right sweetheart?” He remarks while leaning forward and pressing his lips against your sweaty temple. Your teacher's nose wrinkles at the sight, and wanting to help you in any way possible he leans over the desk where his discarded blazer lies and pulls his handkerchief out to collect the fluid still spilling out amongst his desk.

The cool silk material has you whimper slightly from the feel, eyes fluttering for a moment as a lopsided grin tugs at the end of your lips.

“Mmm thank you so much daddy.” You remark that has your step father pull away from your feverish skin to watch Mr. Styles collect the rest of his seed before he’s walking towards the garbage bin to throw out the material. It’s only right for your father to be possessive at such words falling in front of his face; does his grip over your chin only grow tighter when he breathes into your ear.

“When you get home you’re getting more than a punishment for this.” It has your eyebrows knot together but still doesn’t stop the dreamy look crossing over your face.

“Why? I thought this was part of your plan?” Sarcasm evident in your tone that makes him pull away and roughly turn your body towards his still looking as if he’ll like to destroy you.

“You think I like having your attention elsewhere?” He questions while his free hand grabs your forgotten dress shirt and wraps it along your shoulders. “Now hurry up and dress.”

Without objection you do, and like always your father is there to help you put yourself and him back together to keep the facade alive. Collar tucked high to conceal the bite marks roaming around, skirt being unrolled to cover the red smacks daunting along your skin, while you wipe under your eyes to remove any marks of distress from your promiscuous endeavors.

Just like before when you stood between them so scared of what they have in store in your refined pressed uniform, you manage to still hold that innocent appeal after everything that just happened. Mr. Styles watches closely. The way your father fixes the buttons along your chest before running his palms over the creases in your blazer, his eyes fixing you up and making you look perfect like he’s done this a million times before, and he can’t help but feel upset that he won’t get to experience that with you.

As if feeling his gaze your head turns and connects with your teacher. Smile tugging amongst your lips as he pretends to not watch the affection taking place as he continues to zip himself back up.

You knew that the threesome happening was too good to be true, and hell, you’re surprised you even lived through it after the constant back and forth of them spreading you apart and pushing you past your limits. Sure, it was intended as a punishment, and your father did make it known that it would be way worse when home, but you can’t help but feel sad that you only have a month left with Mr. Styles and didn’t want to leave it to just this.

“Father?” You say loud enough for the two men in the room to hear. He hums acknowledging you as his hands continue to fix your uniform.

“Don’t you think I’ll need a tutor for my summer classes?”

It makes both men's eyebrows perch on top of their foreheads. The teacher sucks in a surprise breath as your father kisses his teeth in frustration at your never ending games still taking place.

“You don’t need a tutor for that, your courses will be easy.”

“But sir… please.” You pout with eyes batting up at him which he only shakes his head at. Your vision rolls concededly before your head is shifting around and looking at the teacher who remains with his eye contact still on you. “Come here.” You gesture for him to make his way over, which he does, and to that you're happy about as you lean your head on his bicep.

“Please father… wouldn’t it be fun to do this again. I love having you both share me… it feels so good.” You continue pleading while your free hand goes to drag up his suited chest and slide up the nape of his neck. “And just imagine, in the abandoned maid quarters, how fun and exciting it’ll be!”

Mr. Malik watches the way your eyes beam with excitement and how your teeth shine at the endless possibilities that could happen this summer if giving the teacher the opportunity to privately tutor you from home. He knows it’ll make you happy, knows it probably top everything he’s ever done for you in the years that you’ve been sneaking around, but he’s unsure if that’s what he wants.

He likes you all to himself, no one else having you - despite this instance - but fuck, he can’t deny how hot it was to see you spread out and so fucked and used in a spam of an hour just between the two of them. He doesn’t want to admit that it turns him on, but it does. And maybe, just maybe, there might be a perfect alliance brewing from this day forward.

Hazel sight connects with green, and as he bows his head in a silent nod of gratitude of going along to his plan his head leans away from the sight of him and back to you, still needy and ready for anything in store that he smiles recklessly at the view.

“We’ll see.” He says, which only makes you pout and tear your hand away from his skin. Arms crossing over your chest as your eyes continue to bat up at him to get what you want like you always do. “Stop doing that. Now hurry to your dorm to fix your hair, we don’t need any questions, now do we?”

“No.” You huff before you're leaning off the teacher's arm and sliding off the desk. Mr. Malik makes space to let you pass him and begin to head towards the door to continue fixing up your appearance.

But, it would be unlike you to not be the tease you are, to not get what you want whenever asked. So as your hand turns the door knob and you twist around to look at the two men who spit roasted you in this room, you smirk at them before dropping your eye into a wink.

“Thank you so much for the fun this evening, I can’t wait to see what this summer will have in store for us.”