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leaderwonim · 2 months ago

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❀ DEFINITELY NOT MY CROWD.

pairing. frat!jungwon x shy!fem!reader

genre. romcom, american college au, strangers to enemies to lovers (bye??), angst, fluff, mature

synopsis. when your friend drags you out to a frat party a week before the holidays, you didn’t expect to fall into the graces of yang jungwon, one of the fraternity boys at your university. One accidental kiss with Yang Jungwon and a viral post later, you wake up to a text from your sister: “Bring your new boyfriend to Christmas dinner!” Now, you’ve got one week to turn this chaos into a holiday miracle—or a romcom disaster.

“Hey, wake up.”

Madeleine taps on your shoulder, and when you only respond with a mhmm, she takes both shoulders and shakes you violently.

“What the hell Mads!” You say, getting up in a hurry. “What can you possibly need now?”

“Oh shut up, you’re making it sound like you despise me.” She throws an arm around your shoulder. “Will you come with me to Luca’s party?”

“You know I don’t do frat parties.” You say, already brushing off her suggestion. “They’re just loud and people make out in every corner.”

“But you never go out!” Madeleine slumps her body against yours, practically trapping you on your own bed. “Please.”

“Mads I love you, but no.”

Except here you were, in front of Alpha Delta something—was it Alpha Delta Pi? You didn’t know.

All you knew was that the music was way too loud for it not to have a noise complaint from the neighboring houses, and that there were too many drunk college students stumbling everywhere on the grass out front.

“I’m soooo glad we decided to do this!” Madeleine swings her arms around your shoulder, leading you inside the gigantic frat house.

“Madeleine!” A guy comes up to the two of you, his cheeky smile never leaving his face. “And who’s this?”

“Y/N, my roommate I told you about!” Madeleine smiles at you, “you remember Will right? From Econ?”

Will. Will. You’re trying so hard to remember him, until you realize he’s the blonde in front of you, his hockey gear always taking up half of the space.

“This is my girlfriend, Kallie!” Will puts his arm around the girl next to him. “Well it’s nice seeing you Madeleine and Y/N, have a good night!”

Even though he was notoriously loud in class, he was a bit of a sweetheart, and it made you feel a bit better about being here.

“See, that wasn’t so bad right?”

You nod, letting her guide you throughout the house to the kitchen.

“Do you want Pink Whitney or Tequila?”

You decided on Pink Whitney.

“Oh shit—I’m so sorry.” The guy who bumps into you turns around, his pupils dilated and red. He’s clearly very drunk.

“It’s fine.”

“I’m Jungwon!” He smiles at you brightly, dimples showing ever so proudly.

It seemed like everybody at this party was all about smiling tonight.

“Oh Won! You’re here!” Madeleine slides you your shot, and you down it in one go, silently cursing yourself for not taking a chaser beforehand.

“Yep, kinda have to because this is my frat.”

Now that he’s not stumbling over his own foot, you come to realize he’s actually pretty cute. His brown hair is messy and he’s wearing some plain navy blue hoodie that makes him look more attractive than he actually should be.

“This is Y/N, my roommate!”

Jungwon slips his hand into yours, shaking it in a hurry. “Nice to meet you Y/N, wish it was under better circumstances.”

His joke earns a playful shove from Madeleine, who raises her eyebrows at you, already hinting that you should talk to the boy.

“Well I gotta go talk to Luca, catch you two later!”

You don’t have time to pull Madeleine back because she’s already gone, leaving you alone with Jungwon.

“Hey.” He says, now suddenly closer to you. “Wanna kiss?”

It’s a straightforward almost humorous ask, one that a stranger who’s just known you for five minutes shouldn’t ask. But because the alcohol already entered your system and you have nothing better to do; you nod.

Jungwon leaves no time for you to take a breath before sweeping in, closing the gap between yours and his mouth. You can hear hoots from his frat brothers as the kiss grows more intense.

You’re sure you’ve become the very same people that you used to make fun of—the ones who would make out at the corner of parties and act like they had no decency or self respect.

But who cares, right? This was the one time you were out, and finals had been stressing you like a pounding headache, why would a kiss from some random frat guy affect you after the party?

You were clearly very wrong.

The next day, you’re awaken to your annoying alarm clock, groaning as you tap aggressively on the snooze button.

“Oh shit,” you say, feeling lightheaded when you try to get up. “What time is it?”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Madeleine’s blonde hair spread out on every part of her bed, her limbs tangled in her blankets.

You try to rub your eyes as you reach for your phone, and when your vision clears, the first thing you do is let out a shrilling scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

“What? What’s wrong?” Madeleine’s head pops up, her hair messy and all over her face.

Madeleine stares at you groggily as you toss your phone at her. She fumbles to catch it, squinting at the screen before her eyes widen.

She slaps a hand over her mouth, though the giggles that escape are anything but subtle.

"Why is there a video of me kissing Jungwon everywhere?!" You groan, flopping back on your bed as the stress headache from finals makes a sudden comeback.

"It's not just a video," Madeleine says, scrolling furiously. "You and Jungwon are, like, the new talk of the frat. You know how frat boys are like. The sorority girls might even be jealous."

"I'm going to die," you mutter into your pillow.

"You are not going to die, Y/N."

You groan, yanking the pillow off your face just as your phone vibrates again. Madeleine hands it back to you, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

You don't even have to check the screen to know who's texted you. You sigh and unlock it.

[annoying older sis]: Bring your new boyfriend to Christmas dinner. I’m serious. Mom’s already setting the table for him.

You sit up so fast you almost get whiplash.

"No. Nope. No way. This cannot be happening." You turn to Madeleine, holding your phone out like it’s cursed. "My family thinks Jungwon’s my boyfriend. What am I supposed to do now?!"

"Bring him!" Madeleine chirps, far too enthusiastic for this godforsaken situation.

"Are you insane? I barely know him! He’s probably already forgotten who I am."

As if the universe is mocking you, your phone buzzes again.

[Unknown Number]: Hey, it’s Jungwon. Can we talk?

You stare at the screen, heat rushing to your face.

"Is that him?" Madeleine practically screeches, leaning over to read the text. "Oh my god, Y/N, he’s texting you first. This is fate!"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing her away as you type back:

Sure. Where?

The response is almost instant.

[Jungwon]: Can you meet me at the campus café in an hour?

Madeleine screeches in excitement yet again.

An hour later, you’re already regretting your life choices as you walk into the café, spotting Jungwon sitting at a table near the window. His hoodie from last night is gone, replaced with a clean black sweater that somehow makes him look even more attractive.

When he sees you, he grins, those stupid dimples making your stomach flip for reasons you refuse to acknowledge.

"Hey," he says as you sit down across from him, awkwardly tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Hey," you reply, wondering if it’s possible to combust from secondhand embarrassment.

"So, uh…" Jungwon rubs the back of his neck, looking almost as nervous as you feel. "About last night…"

You brace yourself for him to tell you he doesn’t want anything to do with you, that the kiss was a mistake, and you should forget it ever happened.

But then he says: "I wanted to apologize. I don’t usually, like, kiss random strangers at parties. I was kinda drunk, and I just… yeah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

You blink, caught off guard by how genuine he sounds. "Oh, um, it’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t terrible or anything."

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh. "Wow. 'Not terrible.' High praise."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Sorry. I’m awkward and shy and bad at this."

"I noticed," he says with a chuckle.

When you peek through your fingers, you find him smiling softly at you, his eyes warm and kind.

"Anyway," you say quickly, dropping your hands. "I’m sure you’ve seen the video by now."

"Yeah," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck again. "That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. People are, uh, kinda freaking out about it. And my fraternity brothers keep calling you my girlfriend."

"Funny you should mention that," you say with a dry laugh. "My family thinks you’re my boyfriend too. My sister wants me to bring you to Christmas dinner."

His eyes widen. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah. And I don’t know how to tell them the truth without ruining Christmas, so I was thinking…"

"You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?" he finishes, tilting his head.

"Just for a week!" you say quickly, holding up your hands. "We get through Christmas, and then we go our separate ways. No one has to know it wasn’t real."

Jungwon looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he says, "Okay. I’ll do it."

You blink. "Wait, really?"

"Sure," he says with a shrug. "It sounds kinda fun. And honestly…" He leans forward, his voice dropping to a soft, almost teasing tone. "I need to get out of my frat house. They have yet to let me live down this moment."

Your face flushes, and you look away, muttering, "Frat guys are ridiculous."

"Maybe," he says, grinning.

This was going to be a disaster. You could already feel it.

The rest of the week feels like a blur of planning. Between texting Jungwon to coordinate your "backstory" and surviving Madeleine’s endless teasing, you barely have time to process what’s happening.

"How do we even explain how we met?" you ask Jungwon during one of your brainstorming sessions at the campus library.

"We could just tell the truth," he says, leaning back in his chair. "That we kissed at a party."

You give him a look. "Do you want my family to hate you?"

"Fair point," he laughs. "Okay, how about we say we met through Madeleine and just… hit it off?"

"Sounds fake but okay."

You decide to meet again the next day after class to properly establish some backstory for your "relationship." Jungwon shows up late, looking like he just rolled out of bed.

"Nice of you to show up," you say sarcastically, already in a foul mood from a pop quiz from your professor.

"Sorry, I was busy," he says, completely unbothered.

"Doing what? Beer pong practice?"

"Actually, yes," he says, grinning. "Gotta keep the skills sharp."

You groan. "Unbelievable. How am I supposed to convince my family you’re my boyfriend when you’re this… this frat boy?"

"Hey, being a frat boy isn’t a personality flaw," he says, feigning offense. "Besides, you’re the one who dragged me into this. If you wanted someone polished, you should’ve asked that guy from your bio class—what’s his name? Eric?"

"First of all, Eric has a girlfriend," you retort. "Second, I didn’t drag you into this. Madeleine did."

"Same difference," he says with a shrug.

You glare at him, but he just smiles, annoyingly relaxed.

This was going to be a long week.

You figure a visit to the Christmas market downtown might help you get some convincing couple photos. But of course, Jungwon treats the whole thing like a joke.

"Hold still," you say, holding up your phone.

Jungwon drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer than necessary. "Come on, you gotta sell it, Y/N. Look like you’re in love with me."

You shove his arm off. "I can’t do that when you’re being this insufferable."

"Insufferable?" he repeats, feigning offense. "You wound me."

"You’ll live," you mutter, snapping a photo.

He peers over your shoulder at the screen. "That’s terrible. Here, let me."

Before you can protest, he takes your phone, tilts his head toward yours, and snaps a selfie. To your annoyance, it actually looks good.

"There," he says, handing the phone back to you. "You’re welcome."

You stare at the photo, trying not to notice how natural the two of you look together. "You’re so annoying."

"And yet, here we are," he says with a grin.

“Whatever.”

"Why do we need so much food?" Jungwon complains, trailing behind you as you push a cart through the grocery store.

"Because my family eats a lot," you say, scanning the shelves for the specific brand of cranberry sauce your mom insists on.

He picks up a box of gingerbread cookies and examines it. "Why don’t we just bring these? No one’s gonna care."

"Are you serious?" you ask, snatching the box out of his hands. "We’re not showing up with store-bought cookies. My mom would have a heart attack."

"Wow," he says, leaning against the cart. "You’re really committed to this whole 'perfect daughter' thing, huh?"

You glare at him. "Unlike you, I actually care what my family thinks."

"Touché," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "But for the record, I think your mom would survive."

You ignore him and toss the cookies back on the shelf.

Later that night, after spending hours wrapping presents, you find Jungwon lounging on the couch in your apartment, scrolling through his phone.

"Do you ever do anything productive?" you ask, flopping down next to him.

"Define 'productive,'" he says without looking up.

"I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve your phone or beer pong."

He smirks. "You’re obsessed with beer pong. Did someone beat you at it once or something?"

"No," you say defensively. "I just think it’s a ridiculous way to spend your time."

"Noted," he says, finally putting his phone down. "So what do you do for fun, Miss Holier-Than-Thou?"

"I read. I bake. I actually contribute to society," you say with a smug smile.

"Wow. Thrilling," he says, but there’s a teasing glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, he leans his head back against the couch and lets out a deep sigh.

"Okay, seriously, though," he says. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"A little," you admit. "My family can be… a lot."

"I’ll survive," he says, turning to look at you. "But what about you? Are you gonna be okay?"

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. For once, he’s not teasing or joking. He’s just… Jungwon.

"Yeah," you say softly. "I think so."

"Good," he says, smiling at you. "Because no matter how terrible this dinner is, I’ve got your back."

And just like that, the walls you’ve been trying so hard to keep up start to crack.

By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, you’re a ball of nerves. Jungwon picks you up in his car, looking annoyingly calm and way too good in a dark green sweater and tailored coat.

"You ready?" he asks as you slide into the passenger seat.

"Absolutely not," you reply, clutching the tin of cookies you baked as a distraction the night before.

"You’ll be fine," he says, flashing you that same dimpled smile that’s starting to become your undoing.

The moment you walk through your parents’ front door, you’re greeted by your sister, Addison.

"There she is!" Addison exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug that feels more like a performance for whoever might be watching. "And this must be Jungwon!"

Jungwon smiles politely, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Addison looks him up and down, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her champagne glass. "Wow. Y/N really outdid herself this time."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Your older sister has always had a way of making everything about her, even when it’s not supposed to be.

"Where’s Mom?" you ask, desperate to change the subject.

"In the kitchen,"s she says, waving a dismissive hand. "But don’t worry about that. We need to get a picture of the happy couple for Instagram."

Before you can protest, Addison drags you and Jungwon to the living room, posing you in front of the tree like a pair of dolls.

"Smile!" she says, her phone already snapping away.

Jungwon leans in closer, his arm sliding around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You stiffen for a moment before forcing a smile, trying not to think about how warm he feels.

"Perfect," Addison says, scrolling through the photos with a self-satisfied smirk.

Dinner is somehow both better and worse than you expected.

Your mom keeps asking Jungwon about his family, his major, and his plans after graduation, while your dad mostly nods approvingly between bites of turkey.

Your sister, however, spends the entire meal subtly (and not-so-subtly) comparing everything you’ve ever done to her own achievements.

"Oh, you’re studying business, Jungwon? That’s cute. My fiancé, Ryan, just got promoted to VP at his firm," she says with a laugh that grates on your nerves.

"That’s impressive," Jungwon says politely, but you can tell he’s unimpressed.

"And Y/N," Addison continues, turning her attention to you. "It’s so nice to see you with someone. I was starting to think you’d be single forever."

The table goes silent. Your mom tries to awkwardly steer the conversation elsewhere, but the damage is done. You feel your cheeks burn, and you suddenly lose your appetite.

After dinner, you excuse yourself, slipping out onto the back porch to get some air. The cold bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You just need a moment to breathe.

You’re staring at the snow-covered yard when the door creaks open behind you.

"Hey," Jungwon says softly, stepping outside. He shrugs off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders before you can protest.

"Thanks," you mumble, pulling the coat tighter around you.

"You okay?" he asks, leaning against the railing beside you.

"I’m fine," you lie, though your voice cracks on the last word.

Jungwon gives you a look, the kind that makes you feel like he can see right through you.

"She always does this," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Addison. The perfect sister who has to be better at everything."

"You’re not supposed to do that, you know," he says lightly, gesturing towards your cigarette.

You roll your eyes and lean against the railing, lighting it with a practiced flick of your lighter. "I don’t. I barely smoke. But, you know, desperate times…"

Jungwon chuckles, his breath fogging in the cold air. "I get it."

You exhale, the smoke curls around you, rising into the frosty night. "She just knows how to get under my skin. It’s like she’s made a career out of it."

Jungwon leans next to you, resting his elbows on the railing. "I don’t know. Sounds like she’s just jealous."

You laugh humorlessly. "Of what?"

"Of you," he says simply.

You blink at him, caught off guard. "Are you serious?"

"Completely." He reaches over and plucks the cigarette from your fingers, taking an awkward, experimental puff before immediately coughing.

You burst out laughing as he doubles over, waving a hand in front of his face. "What—what are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out what the big deal is," he says between coughs, his cheeks turning pink—though whether it’s from the cold or his failed attempt at smoking, you’re not sure.

"You don’t have to join me, you know," you tease, taking it back from him.

He straightens up, giving you a sheepish grin. "I just wanted to see what you like about it."

"It’s not about liking it," you admit, tapping the ash against the railing. "It’s more—I don’t know. It gives me something to do when I feel like falling apart."

Jungwon is quiet for a moment, watching the snow-covered yard below. Then he says, "You don’t need this."

You glance at him, surprised by the softness in his tone.

"You could just… talk to me instead,” he says, his eyes meeting yours.

Your heart does that annoying flip thing again, and you quickly look away. "Talking doesn’t solve everything, you know."

"No, but it helps." He pauses, then adds with a teasing smile, "And it’s probably better for your lungs."

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. "Fine. Next time, I’ll talk to you."

"Good."

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels rare and precious. The cigarette burns down to a stub, and you flick it into the snow, watching the ember fade out.

His presence is warm and steady, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel so overwhelmed.

"Thanks." You say softly. "For agreeing to this. I don't even know what I was thinking suggesting it. Addison just texted me and I freaked. I guess there was always a part of me that wanted to impress her."

Jungwon hesitates for a moment, then says, "You know, you don’t give yourself enough credit."

You glance at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"I mean—you let people like Addison make you feel small, but you’re not. You’re kind, and funny, and you care about people. That’s more than most people can say."

You stare at him, your throat tightening. "Why are you saying this?"

"Because it’s true," he says, his voice soft but certain.

You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "You don’t even know me that well."

"I know enough," he says.

There’s a long pause, and then, almost too quietly to hear, he adds, "I love you."

Your head snaps up, your heart pounding in your chest. "What?"

"I love you," he repeats, looking right at you.

"You’re insane." You say, voice barely above a whisper. "You’ve known me for a week. I'm awkward and I wouldn't make a good girlfriend. You'd be ashamed of me, you know."

"I love you, Y/N."

You're not too sure what to say, not expecting him to stand his ground so firmly.

"I didn’t expect this to happen. I thought this would just be some silly, fake thing. I don’t care if you think you’re awkward or shy or anything else. I love you exactly the way you are."

You take a shaky breath, your chest tight with emotions you don’t know how to name.

"I don’t know what to say," you admit.

"You don’t have to say anything," he says gently.

You nod, your heart still racing as he steps back inside, leaving you alone with the snow and the stars and the weight of his words.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, his cheeks pink from the cold, his eyes full of warmth and sincerity.

And then, before you can overthink it, you rise on your tiptoes and kiss him.

This time, it’s not for show. It’s not for anyone else.

It’s just for you.

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naomiarai · 9 months ago

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↳ 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝖾 — [𝙿. 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚗]

╔═.✾. ════╗

➤ you persuade your boyfriend, telling him you could take more.

╚════.✾. ═╝

➤ PAIRING — sunghoon × fem!reader

➤ GENRE — smut, pwp

➤ WARNINGS — dom! sunghoon, sub! reader, pet names (baby, pretty, angel), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, dacrphyllia, ass slapping (like once), kissing, overstimulation.

➤ WC — 0.6k

➤ AUTHOR — reblogs and feedback appreciated!

➤ [ enha masterlist ] [ taglist ]

“Come on baby, just one more” Sunghoon coaxes you, stern grip on your ass. You can’t even recall how many times you’ve came; orgasm washing upon you so fast and immediately pushed to run the next one.

You’ve heard him repeat the same words over and over to you, promising you it’ll be the last one, but the way his fingers pump out of your wet and overly messy cunt from behind says otherwise. Burying your head into the sheets, your hips jerk up shakily, ass jiggling as you feel his fingers never leave your pussy, only sliding out to push your cum back in.

”Sung— please! nngh, can’t take no m..more” you beg, voice muffled into the sheets. It’s all hazy for you, you feel like you’re floating; eyes rolling back so often you lose control over your senses. But you promised him you could take more. You were always sensitive, ending up tired at just one orgasm, so your ever so sweet boyfriend never went over your low limit.

He was gentle with you each time you had sex, fucking into you slowly till you came just once. You’d pestered him, telling him so pleadingly that you could it more than just once, and to just let you have a chance.

“You sure, pretty? Think you can so it more than just once?” he questions you, hands rubbing the sides of your hips soothingly.

“I swear I can! I’ll do it as many times as you want” you reassure him with a confident voice.

And now, here you were, with your ass covered in lots of sticky white and tears streaming down your face, trapped in the bed sheets. Sunghoon’s eyes are completely focused on how your cunt engulfes his fingers covering them in pretty mess. He chuckles at the little sniffles you make as he gradually slows down, giving you a chance to regain your composure.

“You can do it, pretty c’mon” he says, leaning over behind you to kiss your cheek. He’s back to his original pace, wet squelching noises fogging up your mind again, placing you in pure bliss again. You whimper as you lift your head from the sheets, mounting yourself on your elbows as your mouth hands open, eyes dazed and rolling back once again. Sunghoon spreads one of your cheeks with his other hands, watching cum drip out of your swollen folds till he’s spreading it all over again.

His fingers are deep, so so deep, it’s having your thighs shake uncontrollably. He only slaps your ass lightly to make you stay still, because he’s fixed on your little promise, because they’re your words, not his.

You’re almost there, he can sense it, the way you tighten around his three fingers deep inside you. You chatter and shout; his fingers moving quicker and quicker inside you, your walls craving release. “fuckfuck, gonna c-cum, please” you cry out loudly as you squirt all over his fingers. It all rushes past you in an instant, your eyes wide and red from tears, the lower part of your body a sticky, wet disaster as you collapse back onto the sheets.

Sunghoon thinks he hasn't witnessed anything more beautiful, you fucking squirted. He looks after you, embracing your exhausted body as he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“You just squirted, baby,”he exclaims playfully, poking your cheek. You grin at him, surprised by your own abilities.

"I never thought I could do that," you mumble sleepily, nuzzling into his shoulder.

He simply looks at you with desperation for moment, “Well, you did angel,” he says as you turn to look back at him, anticipation in your eyes.

“Think you can let me do it again?”

1K notes · View notes

reignpage · 21 days ago

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Movie Night

Summary: in which alien!reader asks Gojo to teach her a little something Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: smut, not proofread

Day 7

“What’s wrong, E?”

All fresh from a shower, you and Satoru are sitting in the sofa, watching a movie. He’s finally bought you your own clothes and you’re dressed in a warm jumper and cosy pants. Satoru won’t lie; he’s grieving the pleasure of seeing you drown in his clothes. But you were ecstatic at the sight of the space themed pjs and so he was left with nothing to do but he happy.

Wrapped under a thick blanket, you’re huddled by his side, clutching his shirt. As with every movie, every night, you ask questions, and he answers as best as he can. He’s insanely grateful that you can understand him when he explains things like what a car is (a moving vehicle) or who Gordon Ramsey is (a famous chef known for being very wrinkly and very angry). It seems that your biggest issue, however, is stringing a full sentence together.

You’ve been getting much better, accelerating at a rate no human could manage. It’s both impressive and terrifying.

Right now, you’re tilting your head at a particular scene. Satoru forgot the plot of the money and he really regrets not keeping an eye out for the age rating, because on the screen plays a steamy, kiss scene.

In fact, ‘kiss’ isn’t even the right word; they’re making out.

How you both managed to last a week of doing nothing but watch movies without coming across a kiss scene he’ll never know. But the moment’s finally arrived and he is not any more prepared than he was on the first night.

He winces at the sound lips smacking against each other, a blush on his cheeks. A kiss is nothing -- he’s done far more than that, and multiple times. But, for some reason, he’s feeling a little shy. It might have something to do with the fact that you’re staring up at him with your big, curious eyes.

“What they doing?” You ask.

Satoru gulps. He’s become painfully aware of how close you are — his arm is trapped between your breasts, just a thin layer separating him from your soft flesh, and, under the blanket, your leg is strung ever so slightly on his thigh. He can smell his shampoo emanating from you with something sweet coursing just under that masculine scent.

Chuckling uncomfortably, he explains, “They’re kissing.”

“Why?”

He has half a mind to turn the TV off and declare an earlier bedtime, but you look so innocent he feels bad that he was thinking of something indecent. He’s your friend. He can’t prey on you and take advantage of your reliance on him. Plus, how would a kiss between two people from different intergalactic species even work?

Would it be the same? Or does it lead to pregnancy straight away? What if you lay eggs in his mouth? What if he lays eggs in your mouth?

Composing himself, he searches for the right words. “It’s something people do to express their love for each other, I guess. Well, not all the time, actually. Sometimes it’s just for pleasure.”

“Pleasure?”

Why, oh, why did you have to focus on that one word?

And why on everything that is good in this world is this scene so long?

“It means to feel good.”

The hand clutching his shirt flattens out until it’s feeling the hard planes of his chest and absorbing the vibrations of his heartbeat. You drum your fingers at the same pace, smiling softly. The heat of your hand, of your entire body, is setting his skin alight. Suddenly, it’s too hot under the blanket, there isn’t enough room or air, and he needs to go but he can’t bear to.

Batting your lashes, you inquire, “How to make pleasure, Toru? How kiss feel good?”

Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, he corrects you, “It’s, ‘how does kissing make you feel good’, E. Try again for me?”

You taste the words, lips stretching to practice the movement before you parrot back perfectly, “Tell me how kissing makes you feel good, Toru.”

Oh, fuck.

Why did he make you repeat it in perfect Japanese? Why did he have to use this very moment as a learning opportunity?

Curse his perfect teaching instincts!

He’s about to shrug you off, using sleepiness as an excuse to retreat, but then you’re leaning even closer, licking your lips and eyeing his. Warmth is spreading through his body, circulating in one particular area and he’s hoping you don’t move your leg any higher otherwise this will turn into a completely different conversation and he’s not certain he could survive giving you an anatomy lesson without getting a nosebleed.

Licking his own lips, he grazes your cheek with his fingers. The skin he touches glows the very faintest hint of blue. He’s reeling. Up till now, he thought that your skin glows when you’re sleeping, but apparently you also glow when you’re being touched. But this isn’t the first time he’s touched you.

Was it because before he was trying very, very hard not to stare?

He doesn’t know, and regardless, he can’t stop touching you. Satoru presses on your adorable cheeks to watch it light up, the way his is flushing red. Whispering, he asserts, “I can’t tell you how kissing feels, E.”

Your hand presses harder against his chest, fingers splaying across the expanse. Subconsciously, he juts it out just a little. And with the most seductive voice, you demand, “Show me then, Toru. Make me feel good?”

Oh, and when you ask like that, how could anyone ever resist you?

There’s a tantalising closeness between you, just a hairsbreadth away from touching. When he finally closes that minuscule gap, a purr like thrum echoes through you. He kisses you, sweet and gentle, simply pressing his lips against yours. There’s nothing human about this, not with the invigorating taste of you, the scalding feel of your skin, and impossible softness of your body on his.

“This is a kiss?” You mumble.

Chuckling, he says, “No, E. This is.”

With one hand holding the back of your neck, he sucks your bottom lip, unable to help himself from deepening the kiss. You gasp into his mouth, and he dives his tongue in, meeting yours. He knows he should slow down, should let you adjust to a friendly peck before he takes more than you can give, but you taste so good and it’s like he’s drunk.

There’s a force, a gravitation pull drawing him in. He can’t resist it, can’t fight it, he isn’t even trying.

You pull back in shock.

Satoru chases after you, dragging you back in. He kisses you again. Groaning into your mouth, he slides a hand down to your leg, rising up your thigh. You jolt, a shiver running through your body. That electrifying purring hums in the air again and he’s smiling, hand rising and rising until he’s curving against your ass and carrying you over his thighs.

“This feels... I feel...,” you whimper, at a loss for words.

Squeezing your thighs, he coos, “It’s alright, sweet thing. I’ve got you. You wanted to learn pleasure, right? Who better to teach you than Toru, hmm?”

You shiver again when he whispers that against your neck, nose skimming your jaw and lips curling. He’s inhaling deeply, eyes fluttering close at the weight of your body pressing down on him and your addictive scent.

He can’t tell if this is all you or if it’s an alien thing, but he doesn’t care. Not in this moment, not when your hips are churning as he sucks at your neck, laying burning kisses against your skin, and watching the blue light dance under your skin.

“Oh, E,” he sighs. “Are you grinding on me, baby? You want more than just a kiss, is that it? My greedy, greedygirl.”

When your clothed core rubs just right against his throbbing length, you throw your head back, that purring noise a hiss and it vibrates against his cheek as he listens to your rapid heartbeat. He can feel how wet you are; you’re soaking through your panties and pyjama bottoms.

Satoru’s growing dizzy.

One hand guides your hips to gyrate on him whilst the other clutches your throat to pull your lips back to his. Satoru knows he should stop now that he’s already taught you what you asked for, but he can’t. He just can’t. The thrill of going further, of testing your, and his, limits is too much for one man to resist. Even if that man is the strongest sorcerer in the world, even if not a whole gaggle of curses could pose a threat to him.

“Toru!”

He thrusts upwards the same time he tugs you down and the elongated moan that leaves you, hips stuttering and hands frantically searching for purchase on his broad shoulders, leaves him feeling lightheaded. “That’s it, E. Take what you need.”

Your eyes are flashing blue, a darker hue than his own, and he’s amazed. Everything about you is incredible, like you were created to be his temptation, to be his undoing. Whether aliens have souls or not, he doesn’t know, but he does know that if you did, his and yours would be the same, all blue and perfect.

Laughing, he leans back, hands simply resting on your thighs as you ride out your orgasm, shocked eyes pleading for explanation, for reason but finding none in his. That purring gets louder and louder, the vibrations stronger now and they’re flowing straight from your soaked pussy and right onto his cock.

“Oh shit!” Satoru groans, nails digging suddenly. Within seconds, he’s cumming in his boxers, hot cream flooding his underwear from inside at the same time your wetness seeps through on top. “Jesus, E! That’s fucking intense, what the hell.”

He’s panting, eyes shut tightly as he keeps grinding your hips on his cock.

You slump onto him just as he falls back. You’re completely depleted of energy, and he knows exactly what you’re feeling. Rubbing your back, he presses a kiss to your hair, muttering ‘well done’ and ‘good job’.

“How was that for pleasure?”

Smacking his chest, you mumble a complaint. “Toru mean.”

He laughs agains.

“Sorry, E. You were just too cute.”

You raise your head, eyes bleary and fluttering shut. You meet his gaze, shaky fingers reaching for his lips and tracing them, all sore and pink, like you’re amazed at him the way he is at you. “Thank you. Kissing is nice.”

“We did a little more than just kissing, E. But sure, you’re welcome,” he chuckles.

Eventually, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms right there on the sofa, ‘Are You Still Watching’ filling the TV screen and not the movie he can’t even remember the name of, drying cum posing a problem he’ll have to deal with in the morning.

He dreams of sapphire streaks in the air, of giant balls of fire, and an angel descending with its arms outstretched. And he hopes he never wakes up.

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk fic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo fic #gojo smut #jjk smut

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago

Text

Ever Since We Met

Spoiler: Jason dies in the warehouse. ~1.5k words

Jason Todd is six years old and snot nosed when he falls in love with his best friend. Sure, he doesn't exactly know what love is, but he makes sure he's standing next to you when the class lines up so he can hold your hand.

He gets a weird feeling in his stomach (he’s not completely convinced that it’s jealousy, despite what the teacher tries to explain) when you follow other kids around the playground instead of him.

But, he does recognize the excitement he feels when you seek him out to be coloring partners during class instead of the girl sitting next to you.

He loves you as much as a six year old can. Especially when he gets to sleep over at your house and you turn your bed into a fortress of blankets and pillows for you both to sleep in. Those nights are his favorite, and you both drift off to whispered stories and hushed giggles.

Jason Todd is ten years old and getting used to growing pains when he develops a crush on his best friend. At least, he thinks it’s a crush. It feels different than being in love, even if he hasn’t quite grasped the fact that he is in love.

He's more hyper aware of what he does now, how he treats you. Sometimes, the way you smile makes him stumble over his words, and his face go hot. He distracts himself and you from it by asking about homework or that one TV show you that you watch on Saturday mornings.

Jason decides he likes that you’ll press to his side when you’re reading, lost in your own worlds together without a need to fill the silence, crush or not.

He likes that you’ll trade half of your sandwich for his and sneak him doodles and notes during class. (He won’t admit it, but he keeps them in a box under his bed. Sometimes they’re the only reason he doesn’t run away from it all)

He doesn’t bother to mask his obvious preference for you, even when the other kids try to tease him for his crush.

You’re always quick to threaten anyone who tries to put him down, anyway, and he’s more than happy to do the same for you. And when you offer him a high five for scaring off some of the older kids, He decides it doesn’t matter if it’s a crush or not, as long as you stay his best friend.

Jason Todd is twelve when he becomes Robin. It’s hard, well, not being Robin, that’s a magic entirely its own, but being away from you.

He lives in a manor that's bigger than the entire floor of the apartment building he used to live in. He's learned how to do a backflip while throwing a punch in midair. He has more at his fingertips now than he's ever had in the entire first eleven years of his life.

But he misses you. Sometimes, it feels like a phantom limb. Something he's always reaching for, but never quite grasping. It helps that you've gotten a scholarship to his new school, but it's still not enough.

He can't explain it, but he gets greedy for your time. You don't seem to mind the sporadic hangouts, or how often he has to cancel or leave. He kind of wishes you would, just to show that you care as much as he does.

He redoubles his efforts to be a good Robin when you tell him about the dealer that moved into the apartment next to yours. He resolves to be a better friend when you tell him the fancy suits he has to wear to galas look good on him.

His feelings don't change once, even if he hasn't quite found a balance between vigilante and civilian, he knows you're the one thing he can't let go of.

Jason is fifteen years old and about to die when he realizes the person he wants to see most is you. He's always known it, in the back of his mind, but as the blaring red numbers tick lower and lower, he just wishes he could hear your voice one more time.

It's you. Always been. And he's never said it. Never let you know.

His body aches. His leg is twisted the wrong way. His breathing is shallow and raspy. His vision is blurring, and he wants to live. But his mom is still trapped in this warehouse with him, and he's Robin. Robin helps, and that's what he'll do.

Jason drags himself to his mother's side to help, moves despite the gnawing, indescribable pain with every movement.

He's still trying to help, trying to sheild her from harm, as the numbers drop to zero. Zero. Zero. Zero.

What happens next doesn't hurt more than anything else did. And he has enough time to picture the color of your eyes before it all goes to black.

Jason Todd is eighteen when he dons the name Red Hood and becomes Gotham's biggest crime lord in a matter of months.

He stays far away from you, even if your memory has haunted him since the moment he woke up in that cursed pit. (and if he tries to remember, the moment since he first woke up in his own grave)

He's eighteen still, when his empire crumbles and he's left without a path, a purpose. He carries the weight of his years with the league, sags under the strain of not knowing who he is anymore.

He stays far away from you, sticks to the cracks and shadows of Gotham until his name is no longer whispered in fear. Then, and only then, is he brave enough to take off his helmet in front of you.

It's a relief and a terror all at once to finally see the color of your eyes from something other than a memory, and when his heartbeat starts to stutter, he knows he's never really grown out of being in love with you.

You've gotten older. (He shouldn't be surprised, he has too. He just always pictured you growing old together)

Your eyes still light up like he's your favorite person in the room. (He thinks he's allowed to be surprised about that)

But it's when you breathe out that he's home, that he figures out you've been waiting for him. Neither of you seem to know what to say after that, but you don't run for the hills in terror. And for the moment, that's enough.

Jason is twenty-one and passing the first (legally) acquired bottle of alcohol you've ever bought. You laugh about how it still tastes the same, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest at the sound.

He loves you. It sings in his blood, settles on his tongue, he just doesn't know how to say it. He shows it, or at least he tries, but sometimes he's still waiting for this all to be a dream. It should have been impossible, how easily he slipped back into your life.

It was easy. So easy. Everything was easy with you. That's probably why he spills his guts.

He doesn't quite say it the right way, doesn't manage to get the word 'love' out. But he says enough to get his feelings out.

It's not poetic, not grand as you deserve, but somehow he manages to articulate the way butterflies create a hurricane in his stomach when you're around, how his gaze is always drawn to you, how he can't help but lean into the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch.

Maybe he says a little too much about how he's been head over heels since the day you've met, because you just stare at him.

He's almost ready to run, to blame it all on the one measly shot he's had. This is, until you kiss him. And oh, it's everything he never dared to dream it would be.

It's a little messy, sure, the angle a little strange as you crane across the couch to tangle your fingers in his hair. But it's perfect, it's you, and Jason falls in love all over again.

Jason Todd is twenty-three and still learning how to say I love you. It's not that he loves you any less, if anything, he loves you now more than ever. It's just still something he's getting used to.

Love is something you've given to him so freely, something he's happy to return. But it scares him, sometimes. He worries that if he says it out loud too much, the universe will realize how great of a gift he's been given, and rip it away.

It might be irrational, but he holds the word love close to his heart anyway, unwilling to test fate anymore than he already does by putting on that red helmet.

He whispers it to you in the dead of night instead, says it with touch instead of sound, shows it with soft, shine of his eye. He squeezes your hand when you say it to him, does his best to make it clear he feels the same, even if he can't get the words out.

He'll get it eventually, figure out how to get it off his tongue. He has to.

Especially if he wants to show you the pretty little band of shining, precious metal he has tucked away in a velvet box.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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girlokwhatever · 9 months ago

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reguest idea: would u wanna write smth when reader does hickeys to paige and paiges teamates see them and start teasing her? with the smut??

𝄞˚˖.🎀༘⋆·˚ ༘₊·➳‧₊* ‧₊ marks of my love,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

“shit-”

you’re straddling paige, grinding down on her as you glide your lips down her neck. you suck starting behind her ear, trailing marks of your love along her body. the dark purple hue glows almost immediately and you pull back to admire your girlfriend. hickeys scatter her neck, chest, and shoulders.

“s’pretty paigey. wanna fuck you so bad.”

“please baby..”

within a second you’re between her legs, pushing them apart. your lips attach to her thighs like second nature, sucking and licking until you’re satisfied with the deep purple hue. she’s moaning, hand in your hair with a tight grasp.

“don’t tease-”

she doesn’t have time to finish her statement because you’re pulling away from her skin with a pop. you roll your eyes at being rushed but your cheeks are flushed from her desperation. you grab her boxers, pulling them down her legs before returning to your original spot. she places both hands on the back of your head now, pulling you into her cunt with force. you accept it and enjoy it, reveling in the taste of your girlfriend.

you both moan at the same time, the first touch almost too much for either of you. your breathy moan sends shivers up her spine and shocks her clit, making her body jolt slightly. she immediately pulls you closer, shoving your face into her wetness. it’s coating your chin and nose and you don’t even care. you suck and lick every since of skin you can reach, moaning out about how good she tastes.

you push your tongue into her, feeling the ecstasy from the way her body sucks you in. working on her weeping hole with your tongue, you find importance with your hands by toying with her clit. paige praises you, egging you on as your final touch and lick sends her spiraling over the edge. her body melts beneath yours, going limp with the aftershock of her orgasm. you take the moment to suck your last hickey on her hip, kissing it and lifting your lips to her own.

within seconds she’s up, pulling you against the mattress as she sinks down onto you, letting her desire to please you take over.

paige is absolutely sweating, watching as the majority of her shots swish through the basket. she’s not aware that the makeup she used to cover her hickeys was beginning to fade, sweat washing it all away.

no one has noticed yet, including paige. she gets everyone’s attention, betting that she can make the shot from half court. everyone on the other side of the floor is getting in on it, too far away to notice your marks of love lingering on paige.

paige sets up for the shot, everyone pulling their phones out and getting closer. the basketball flies from her hand, hitting the backboard and going straight into the basket. everyone cheers, kk jumping up and down as she lessens the distance between herself and her friend.

“paige.. OH MY GOSH! PAIGE HAS A HICKEY YALL- WAIT.. SHE HAS LIKE THREE”

paige’s eyes widen in shock, hand immediately coming up to her neck. sure enough, she sees the transfers of the now liquid cover up transfer to her hand. her face is beet red, wrapping her hands around her neck. she’s certainly not ashamed, but she’s definitely embarrassed because now all of her friends know what you and paige do when they’re not around.

“alright alright- that’s enough.” paige is blushing bashfully with the largest grin adorning her features.

everyone’s shoving their phone in her face, trying to wedge her hands away from her neck. paige jogs away from everyone, trapping herself in the locker room until everyone else arrives. she wants to call you and tell you how horrendous this situation is, but kk, ice, and nika have already shoved their way through the door. paige isn’t aware that sitting down has made her shorts ride up, revealing some of the numerous hickeys on her thighs.

“the legs too paige? you guys are freaky.” nika speaks with a smirk on her face, making kk and ice double over in their laughter. she takes a seat next to paige, patting her back.

your girlfriend gives up on trying to hide the marks, letting her arms fall to her side before she stands up to change out of her workout clothes. when she lifts her shirt off, everyone’s jaws drop. all her hickeys are nearly revealed now, the deep purple and red adorning her skin.

“just say yall are jealous.” paige shrugs, holding back her laughter. the three other girls are giving each other looks like ‘yeah, she’s right.’ none of them miss the way you and paige look at each other, like you’d both pull the moon down for the other.

“ok girly. it looks like someone beat the shit out of you.”

“whatever.”

“yall must really be getting it on good. was it good-”

kk runs off, paige hot on her trail. all of them had been teasing her too long about it, especially kk. kk screams as she runs and paige gives up on following. her heart swells with pride now, knowing that you’re proud to call her your girlfriend. you must be, considering you’re always so desperate to litter her skin with your marks of love.

·˚ ༘。･:*:･✧* ੈ✩‧₊˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!

it’s short yall sorry

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #kk arnold #nika muhl #ice brady

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deputyrook · 3 months ago

Text

In Her Absence: Lucanis/Rook/Spite.

A03 link! Female Crow Rook x Lucanis. Lucanis POV.

Takes place when Rook is in the fade prison, because 1) I love angst and am a big softie; and 2) I wanted to try to work out the logistics of what the team did in Rook's absence, and how they managed to reach her.

---

In the four days that Rook’s been gone, the Veilguard has devolved completely into infighting.

Taash wants to know why they can’t just “break into the fade and pull her out.” And no one really wants to hear Emmrich’s overly technical explanation as to why that’s not feasible, least of all Taash, who’s grieving and angry. Davrin keeps saying that it should have been him instead, which isn’t helping, and no one even wants to think about what’s happening to Bellara right now.

Harding is dead. Bellara is kidnapped by Elgar’nan and Maker knows where. They’re a mess as a group, angry and hurting. And Rook...

Rook’s gone.

Neve is the only person who remotely has their shit still together, and for that at least, Lucanis is thankful.

Because he absolutely does not have his shit together. Maybe the others can’t tell, since he’s not arguing or yelling or breaking down, but his thoughts are spiralling so badly that he’s barely said a word in three days. All he can think about is Rook.

He loves her. He loves her. And she’s lost somewhere, trapped and alone, and they have no plan whatsoever on how they’re going to get her back.

He never told her. It’s tearing him up inside. The thought that he might never hear her voice again. Never hear her make some stupid pun, or hear her teasing, or hear her give them all one of her legendary pep talks. Never hear her laugh again-

“Lucanis,” Neve’s voice is firm, dragging him out of his despondency, “You need to focus.”

How can he possibly focus? “You’re right,” he says instead, voice tight, because Neve is right. Standing around brooding isn’t getting them any closer to getting Rook back. What he needs to do is act- but how?

Solas is a God, and even he couldn’t break out of that prison. This isn’t the kind of problem Lucanis can solve with a dagger. He can’t stab at the prison walls until they crumble away- but Maker knows if that could work, he would stab until his daggers shattered and his body collapsed.

What is he supposed to do? What can he do? How can he help them, when all he knows how to do is kill things?

No. Spite says to his left, his voice hard and determined, No! We will find Rook. Won’t leave them there.

Neve puts a hand on his shoulder, and gives it a squeeze.

“When has Rook ever been content to sit and wait to be rescued?” Neve says, and he lets out a long, even exhale, because it’s exactly what he needs to hear. “I’m worried too. But Rook would chew off her own leg to escape a trap. If there’s a way to get out, she’ll find it. Have some faith in her. In all of us- and in yourself.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice quiet. After a moment, he adds, “…Someone should let Viago and Teia know.”

That, at least, is a burden he can bear.

But the days stretch into weeks. Elgar’nan seizes control of an already broken Minrathous, and even Neve has a hard time keeping herself together after that one.

Lucanis is in no place to offer comfort. Without Rook’s leadership and steadfast optimism, the lighthouse has gone dark, leaving them all ships to smash into a rocky coast. He won’t soon forget the way Viago’s eyes widened when he told him what had happened to Rook, nor the look of horror that flashed across his face before his expression settled into stony devastation.

Strangely, it’s Spite that keeps him from falling apart completely. He refuses to accept that Rook is gone. Every time that Lucanis’ mind whispers to him that this happened because he wasn’t good enough, and that he’ll never see Rook smile at him again- Spite cuts him off with an angry, defiant hiss of NO.

Rook is strong. Rook is smart! Rook will not allow herself to die in a prison. She would not let you die in prison, either. We will not let her. We will find her. We will find her!

He repeats the words in his own head, holding onto them like a buoy. Right, yeah. She’s good at prison breaks. It’s enough to make it through the day.

Sometimes- although Lucanis would never admit it to the others- he realizes that Spite is the one who has been moving his body, keeping him working while he’s been stuck in his mind, ruminating and aching with missing her. It’s been Spite that’s forcing him to eat, to bathe, to sleep. Spite is keeping him alive.

Will not let you do this to us. Rook needs us.

It’s that thought that ultimately gets Lucanis to snap out of his despair.

It’s not over yet. He agrees, finally. Rook needs us.

Finally! Spite snaps back.

---

First, they try to make a copy of the dagger. Something that will be able to slice through the fade prison, so that they can cut Rook out of it. That’s how Solas left, after all- by tricking her, and stealing the dagger to cut himself free.

But a dagger of pure lyrium isn’t exactly easy to replicate. Brilliant as they are, Emmrich and Neve can only do so much. So after days of meticulous work, they end up with a dagger that looks identical to the real thing, but doesn’t actually work. Great.

Next, Emmrich hypothesizes that in order to get to Rook in the fade, they’ll not only need to figure out how to access the fade prison, but also to figure out where the prison actually is, physically within the fade.

It is, apparently, not as simple as yelling out “ROOK? CAN YOU HEAR US?” from the top of the Lighthouse, which has been Taash’s strategy. Spite, too, is ready to start just travelling through the fade, for as long and as far as he needs to until he finds her. Lucanis is doing what he can to support the group, cooking the meals and making sure Emmrich and Neve are able to stay on their feet.

Word gets to them that Solas is in Minrathous, keeping the rebellion alive. The news poisons Lucanis so thoroughly with hate that he nearly can’t stomach it. Spite has been so determined to save Rook that Lucanis almost forgot how it felt when he was really, truly spiteful.

Hearing Solas is pretending to be a hero in Tevinter, after consigning Rook to take his place in a prison? Yeah. That’ll do it. The things he’d wanted to do to Illario after his betrayal had left him conflicted. He is not remotely conflicted about what he wants to do about Solas.

What they want to do. Spite agrees with him on this one. He hurt our Rook.

Finally, Emmrich and Neve work out a real plan, with the help of the Veil Jumpers. It’s based largely on luck, but it’s something. It’s a sliver of hope. It’s enough to keep them all going.

First, they need to find a spot where the veil is particularly thin, where the fade peaks through the seams of reality. Then, they need to use an artifact of the Veil Jumper’s to do… magical, fade, location-y… stuff. Emmrich actually uses a bit of Rook’s blood for this part, located on some stained clothes that Assan had dug out in her room.

Blood magic. Ordinarily, Lucanis would be opposed. But no one says a word against it. They are all desperate for this to work.

The first day they try it, it doesn’t work. They make some adjustments, and try again.

The second day, it doesn’t work. They make some more adjustments, and they try again.

On the fifth day, Spite says it in his ear, voice sharp with excitement.

I can smell her- I can smell Rook!

Lucanis’ heart feels like it’s about to burst from his chest. He’s yelling, “Rook?” into the rift before he can stop himself, but the team’s caught on already that this isn't like the other times they’ve failed to make their plan work. The rift is spitting and spasming sparks of magic, and they can see through it in a way they’d never been able to before. They can see a light in the rift.

Emmrich seems to throw caution entirely to the wind, rolling up his sleeve and plunging his arm into the rift. The energy is wild, unrestrained, and they’re all calling out to Rook, reaching and trying to get to her.

“I’ve- I’ve got her!” Emmrich yells out, and Lucanis swears he can see Rook’s wavy form on the other side of the rift. Like looking through a fishbowl, or the walls of the Ossuary.

He reaches in too and grabs her hand with Emmrich, and they yank. Rook stumbles out, collapsing onto the ground.

“Varric’s dead,” she says, voice hollow and wobbly.

Neve shoots Lucanis a confused, concerned look, but he’s too relieved to care. He’s grabbing at her shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace, and his throat feels like it’s closing up on him. Tears prick at his vision. She’s safe. She’s alive, she’s free, and she’s safe. She’s back with them.

They all want to hug her, and make sure she’s actually, really okay. But Lucanis gets to first.

Told you. Told you, told you! Spite repeats, ecstatic, She’s back!

“Are you okay?” He murmurs, pulling back and looking her over critically, trying to see if she’s been hurt or if anything has changed. But no. It’s just her. Like not a day has passed.

Rook nods slowly, and Lucanis smooths a hand down her hair, before cupping her cheek in his hand. All he wants to do is hold her, but he can’t be that selfish and drag her away from the others. Not yet, anyway.

Pulling back, the others take the moment to rush in, making similar careful assessments and doting over Rook. The last few weeks have been almost unbearably difficult. There’s been little to celebrate. But this is joy again. Hope. With Rook back, not everything is completely fucked.

Davrin pulls her into a crushing hug, and Taash joins in, and they’re all hugging and crying a little. The trip back to the Lighthouse is a blur, with Rook thanking the Veil Jumpers and swearing to them she’ll get Bellara back.

How she can already be so determined, so ready to act, Lucanis will never know. He is, as he has so often found himself, in awe of her ability to forge forward, the light cutting through the swathes of dark that seem to surround them.

Spite is just about ready to try to crawl out of their skin in impatience, but they have work to do first. They all brief Rook on what has happened in her absence, and learn- horrifically- that she’s somehow been brainwashed into believing Varric has been alive, for months, by Solas.

Not for the first time, Lucanis feels anger and spite bubbling in his veins and vows to himself that he will not let Solas get away with hurting Rook. God or not. He finds it hard to fathom why he would mess with her head like that, if he wanted her to succeed in at least stopping Ghilan’nain. It reminds him too much of the mind games that his captors would play on him when he was in the Ossuary, tormenting and confusing him for no other reason than to break him down. Was that what Solas had tried to do to Rook, too? To break her down mentally, so she’d be easier to manipulate and trick?

It seems to take forever, but finally, Lucanis gets to see her alone. She’s lying down when he enters her quarters, her eyes closed, but the words spill out of him before he can even consider leaving her to rest.

“I cannot believe we found you,” he says, voice soft. All of the fear he’s felt for weeks, the doubt and the despair that Spite had helped him just barely keep at bay… the relief, now, is making him lightheaded.

“I’m a little surprised too, honestly.” It’s a testament to the gravity of the situation that she’s not trying to make light of things. The words aren’t meant as a joke.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admits.

“And I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” Rook tells him in turn. It leaves him cold, to think of her there, alone and believing she might never be found. “How do I know if I really did? This could be... more of the fade.”

Lucanis realizes then, that he’s never seen her vulnerable like this before. Emotional, yes, but lost? Frightened? Rook has always been the solid centre of the group. Unmoving, unyielding, steady. Utterly dependable.

It’s almost surprising that she’s not actually invincible. She’s so consistently been their guiding light. But more than shock, more than anything else-

He wants to protect her. He wants to hold her until her worries melt away, to chase away the horrible memories of the last several weeks and see her smile at him. He wants her to know that he won’t let anything hurt her. He wants to kiss her until she feels safe and warm again.

So he does. Kneeling down in front of her, holding her hands in his own, Lucanis reassures her she is real. There’s so much he wants to tell her, that he’s been praying he’ll get the chance to say. But now that Rook’s in front of him again, he can’t seem to find the words for everything he’s been feeling.

So he kisses her. So, so gently. And when he keeps kissing her, pressing her back against the chaise as she wraps her arms around his neck? It seems Spite is right there with him, because the wings unfurl right in that moment, curling around them both protectively, like he wants to help shield them from anyone in the world who might try to hurt them.

#lucanis dellamorte #spite dragon age #lucanis x rook #rookanis #spite x rook #antivan crows #dragon age #dav spoilers #dragon age spoilers #dragon age the veilguard #veilguard spoilers #dragon age rook #maybe i'll write a smutty p2. but not tonight!#have i mentioned i love lucanis and spite #my writing

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tojisun · 10 months ago

Text

“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.

“the mission–”

“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.

there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”

he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”

simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.

“location?”

“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.

“roger.”

he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.

his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.

his legs tense, muscles rippling.

“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.

he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–

simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.

he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–

simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.

because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.

your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.

simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.

(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.

“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”

the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.

somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)

simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.

alone. angry. scared.

“status?” price asks.

simon licks his lips. “unstable.”

he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.

you’re here. alone. alive.

your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.

simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.

you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.

he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.

“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.

he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.

your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.

“can i–”

he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.

he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.

simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”

you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.

“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”

“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”

you hum, nodding, and that was that.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cw guns #cw violence #suns #sooooo idk where this came from or why i even wrote it but ALAS

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darnell-la · 5 months ago

Note

Darkceo!logan and employer!fem-reader when he's using his power to control her fully as employer and plaything💯

pairing: dark!boss!logan howlett x employ!reader

warnings: controlling, unprofessional, threats, choking, hair pulling, sexual harassment, high power, forced creampie, rough sex, marking, baby trapping, etc.

note: I’ll be Logan’s slut coworker anytime.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Logan, I can’t stay after hours to help the kids in detention. I’ve got work to do myself,” y/n said after the man called her in his office. This was his third time within a week, making her stay back.

“Well, I’ve got paperwork, and need someone to watch the kids when I’m not looking,” the man fixed his glasses before looking back at the computer he was typing on.

“You’re in the same room as them — I’m sure they’re not gonna up and leave,” y/n tried convincing the man to let her go, but that wasn’t happening, just like the other nights.

“When I tell something once, I expect you to listen, y/n. Don’t make me tell you again,” the man had looked up at the girl.

Y/n stood in the middle of the man’s office, wanting to fight for some kind of break, but last time he had scared her into staying.

“Yes, sir,” the young lady said before turning around and walking off. She could see the smirk on the older man after her sentence. He owned her, and she had no one to go to and tell.

“Y/n, stay back — We need to talk,” Logan said after y/n dismissed detention for the kids. Some laughed as others ran out, ready to do whatever teenage mutants did at this time of night.

“Mister Howlett, I really need to get to my own work-“ she tried saying. “Don’t start,” the man cut her off at the end of her sentence. The way he always looked over his glasses, made her shut up in an instant.

The class was finally empty. Logan stood outside of the door, waiting for all of his students to leave before closing and locking his classroom door.

“You’re the best teacher I’ve got, y/n, but your attitude — It ain’t pretty,” Logan finally turned around, eyes burning into hers. She didn’t want to get fired. She’s done everything he’s asked, but she could feel something coming.

“Ima need you to work after hours right here with me. Confused it a mild punishment for your recent behaviors,” he said, confusing the girls.

“Mister Howlett, I’ve donen’t everything you’ve asked me to for days. If I don’t get my own work done, I can fall behind. The stress isn’t good for teaching,” she tried telling the man.

Logan walked toward the girl, letting her talk for once until he stood right before her.

“I know you love this job, y/n, but you will lose it if you don’t obey me,” the man said. Obey? “Logan, this isn’t some kind of joke. I can’t be around you all day and night for no reason. I have papers myself,” y/n tried standing her ground, but it was hard. His gaze intimidated her.

“Then take ‘em down here for now on. Don’t argue with me anymore,” the man looked down at her as she rolled her eyes. He didn’t like that.

“Look-“ Logan said as his hand raised, gripping the girl's neck out of nowhere. “I don’t know who the fuck told you, you can act a certain way towards me — But I’d advise you to cut that shit out,” he said.

When the girl didn’t give a response and just looked up at the man, he dragged her until her body was pinned against the cold thick wooden walls.

“You think I’m a joke, Bub? I’ll fire you right now. I don’t give a fuck how important you are to my school. I’ll fire you and throw you out tonight,” the man threatened as his body pressed against her.

“So as I said, cut the fuckin’ attitude, before I do it for you,” another threat was made. “You can’t just-“ y/n tried saying. “I can’t just what? Hm!?” Gripped her neck tighter, waiting for her to tell him what he couldn’t do with her.

“Y-You can’t just do this, Logan. I have a job to do, just like you, and you’re getting in my way. Y-You’re distracting me,” she finally said.

She had been trying to tell the man for weeks now, but every time, he’d threaten the woman’s job. It was unprofessional of him shaking up in her room one night, and telling her she needed to come to her rooms at times and work. She didn’t know what the man's problem was, and she was scared to ask.

“Oh, I’m distracting?” He asked in a low voice which slightly came out as a growl. He couldn’t help but smirk and scan the young lady. She looked so good like this.

“Maybe I am too — Those lips aren’t very easy to ignore,” he said, face coming close to hers. Once his hot breath hit her skin, her heart dropped and reality hit her. This man has been hitting on her…

“M-Mister Howlett,” the girl spoke, earning a groan from the man. “Yes, princes?” He asked as one knee moved in between her leg, pushing until he grazed her clothes folds.

Y/n regretted listening to the man when he demanded her to look more professional by wearing skirts and dressed to teach.

“T-This is unprofessional,” she said, instantly making the man laugh as he tilted his head back. “God, you’re so fuckin’ dumb. Lucky me, I like ‘em that way,” the man said before he slowly leaned at her neck.

The young girl whined softly, her heart rate raising as her boss sucked on her neck. “L-Logan,” she pushed at his shoulders softly, but what would that do? He was stronger and wanted this.

The man growled in her neck, loving the way his name rolled from her tongue. “L-Logan, stop this,” y/n pushed harder at the man’s shoulders, but all he did was laugh at her skin.

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears as she noticed her cunt throb on his thigh. She was growing wet as well, and she knew he knew that.

After Logan realized how much she was leaking, he pulled her off of the wall by her hair, pulling her over to his desk. “Be a good coworker, and spread for me,” the man pushed her down onto his desk, almost breaking it.

“Ow, Logan,” the girl whined. He loved how venerable she was. The girl wasn’t a mutant, so she knew he was too strong for her. He loved the power he had over her as a mutant and boss.

Y/n repeatedly begged the man to let her go, telling him she’d do whatever he wanted from now on with no attitude, but all he said was “Ima get that anyway,”.

Logan pulled the girl's tight dress up, eyes filling with darkness as he saw her wet spot. “Fuckin’ slut got wet on the job,” the spat before ripping them off clean.

“P-Please, Logan,” y/n begged again, legs already shaking from the fear in her body. She’s never been with a mutant, and having her boss be the first, isn’t professional of her. She can’t do this.

“Don’t worry, Bub — Gonna fill this cunt right up. Give her what she needs,” he made up his own thoughts on what y/n wanted as he pulled himself out, stroking until he felt pre cum leak from his tip.

Logan knew the young lady wasn’t on birth control. He made her sign work papers, having that down as one of the questions. She didn’t think of it at first because she just wanted a job. A normal job, but now she knows it’s not so normal.

Logan forcefully pushed at the girl's entrance, making her grip his table. He was huge, and he hadn’t even filled her to the brim yet.

“L-Logan, please!” She begged as tears slipped from her eyes. The man groaned as he slipped into her walls, feeling the instant warmth and grip. “Fuck,” he couldn’t keep in. He’s been waiting on this for a while.

L-Logan,” the girl's cracked voice filled the room as he pushed all the way into her. She felt full. She felt pain. She felt pleasure. He knew she liked this deep down.

“Ah huh, baby — You like it?” He asked as he slowly pulled back before pushing back in. Y/n’s body went stiff at the length he was. He was too deep, and he loved it.

“T-Too much, Logan,” she cried low, gripping his desk harder. “I know, Bub, but whose fault was that for not being nicer to me? I would’ve trained you with my fingers, but you’ve been pissin’ me off lately,” Logan leaned over y/n, rubbing at her cheeks.

“Got me so fuckin’ angry, but all I could think about if fuckin’ it out. All out, into you,” the snap on his hips made the girl yelp. “So, you’re gonna lay here, and fuckin’ take it — professionally,”

Logan couldn’t help himself. He tugged on the girl's hair and gripped the side of her waist, pulling her into every hard thrust he could give. He knew the screws on the table were loosening, but he’ll fix it later.

“Can’t walk around here this tight and think I don’t want a taste, baby. Gonna be havin’ this cunt whenever I want, and however I want from now on,”

Y/n’s cunt was finally stretched and wet, good enough for Logan to slip into her with ease, but still rough enough to punish her. He neared to use the power he had over her, and he was.

“For now on, you’re in my room. Don’t need you unsupervised when you’re this tight,” the sounds of y/n’s juice filled the room as he talked. She couldn’t control her system. She was leaking worse than before. “And leave the panties alone. Need ease access in what’s mine,”

The girl's cunt throbbed at his words, not knowing why, but she knew she was fucked. If she tried telling anyone she didn’t want this after knowing the knot in her stomach getting harder to hold, they’d laugh in her face.

“Petty girls gonna cum, hm? Well, that ain’t so professional of you, ain’t it? Tellin’ me how unprofessional I am, but you’re about to cum on my jeans like the whore of the night,”

Y/n tried holding herself back, angry that he read her like a book, but she soon failed. She came all over his lower body, making the sounds of his thrust louder and more sloppy.

“That’s it, baby — Cum in my cock, and I might give you a raise,” he chuckled as he felt himself eat close. Y/n felt horrible. She clenched around the man after he mentioned a raise. That could only mean she was fine with this, as long as she got paid.

“Gonna have to save after the baby forms in your stomach. Can’t have my pretty girl workin’ too hard,” a whine left the girl's mouth. A very sexual moan that made him know she wanted this. Deep down, she couldn’t hide it. She couldn’t hide how good he was fucking the life out of her.

“That’s it, baby — Keep moaning like that, and Ima put a village in this sweet cunt,” the man said between his teeth, now slamming into her. His thrust was brutal, knowing the wind and trapped moans from her mouth any time his pelvis slapped her ass.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Grip me — Grip me and show me you want it,” the man's cock twitched in her walls, warning her, he was close. Before he could say another teasing sentence, he was cut off by his groans as he filled the girl up.

He spilled in her for what felt like hours, pushing his cock deeper into her cunt to make sure one of them would be a winner.

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frudoo · 6 months ago

Note

A non Zombie apocalypse 141 poly

They find another survivor looking for supplies and decide to make her their wife.

I went a lil crazy on this one ngl

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con but nothing sexual. Fem!Reader.

It was that colossal motherfucker you saw first—the one you almost wasted an arrow on because of that creepy skull mask he wore. The big bastard was raiding your shelter, a little storage room in what used to be a department store. Believe it or not, the mannequins you placed outside of your hideout were enough to deter the zombies away, so you had a pretty good thing going. That was before this dumb brute decided to ruin all your hard work and steal your canned goods.

Your plan was to shoo him away and tell him to piss off, but he wasn’t having it. No, instead, he made you carry your own supplies back to his shelter, where there were three other men to feed. Fuck, you had enough food to last yourself about three months, but now, with these giant men who no doubt have massive appetites? You’re lucky if it’ll last a week.

You’re sitting on a raggedy couch between the pretty man with the ball cap and another with a stupid overgrown mohawk now, arms crossed with a foul look on your face. Across from you sits the fucker with the skull mask, and beside him in an ancient recliner is a bearded man wearing a weird hat. Every now and then you let out an annoyed huff, earning yourself a pointed stare from each of them.

“Are ye gonna eat summat, or jus’ pout like a wee baby?” Mohawk Man asks you through a mouthful of lukewarm spaghetti hoops.

You flip him off without even looking at him, earning a few snickers from the other men. If you weren’t so pissed off at all of them, you might have allowed yourself a little smirk. In fact, you feel the beginning of one curling at the corner of your mouth, until Ball Cap™ pulls you into his lap and traps you there with his strong arms. You yelp and try to shimmy out of his grasp to no avail. You go to bite him, but the second your mouth opens, a spoonful of beans gets plopped inside.

“Swallow,” Skull Guy commands, covering your mouth with one wide palm in case you decide to try and spit it out.

You glare at him the entire time, but still obey his explicit order because you truly are hungry. You give up on trying to escape the pretty man’s grasp, letting your body go limp. It’s probably wise to save your energy, anyway.

“Good bird,” he praises mockingly. “Now, since you’re through bein’ a brat, I’ll introduce everyone.

“M’Simon. Tha’ there,” he points at the one with the mutton chops, “is John, or Cap’n, dependin’ on his mood. Beside you’s Johnny, but we call him Soap. The one you’re sittin’ on is Kyle. We call him Gaz when he’s bein’ a dick, though.”

You nod like you’re paying attention, using his distraction as an opportunity to steal the can of beans from his hand. It’s a weird group, for sure, but aside from the fact that they’re thieving bastards, it might be nice to have more humans to help protect you from the hoards of the undead. It’s a step up from mannequins, anyway. Perhaps it also helps that they’re all insanely attractive.

“Wha’ aboot ye, hen? Go’ a name?” Mohawk Man—or, Johnny, apparently—asks with a cheeky grin.

Before you get the chance to tell him your name, the one with the mutton chops, John, interrupts you.

“No matter, is it? We’ll call her our wife soon enough.”

You nearly drop the can of beans when you process the words that just came out of his mouth, choking on the bite you just took. Kyle pats your back until your little coughing fit ceases, and Simon wipes the sticky residue from your mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. None of them, you observe, are as baffled by John’s statement as you are. It makes a weird feeling churn in your gut.

“A-all… all of you?” You stammer nervously, then start again with a lilt of confusion in your voice. “Wife?!”

“Yes, dove, all of us,” Kyle confirms, confiscating the can of beans from you and setting it on the ground.

“Aw, don’t look so scared, sweetheart,” John stands from his place in the old recliner, stepping in front of you and lifting your head up to look at him with his pointer finger hooked beneath your chin.

“I take good care o’my men. We’ll take good care o’you, too.”

#got myself blushin like a damn fool #ask me!#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod x reader #tf141 x reader

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thecoochiefairy · 10 months ago

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 12.7k word count. a LOT of dialogue ngl, first person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling,squirting,creaming drunk/tipsy sex, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, degrading (maybe?), condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive + cocky toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 ; 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑟

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this was my first fic y’all. enjoy! 🫶🏽

“WHO THE FUCK STILL EATS FIG NEWTON’S?”

“Me! That’s who.”

My eyes continue to wander down the snack aisle, searching for my favorite selection. I toss the fruit paste filled cookie into the basket as I respond to my friend on FaceTime, “How about you mind your goddamn business?”

“As long as you continue to buy snacks only made from the devil, I won’t.”

I roll my eyes. “Anyways, you still comin’ tonight or what? I’ll buy a bottle of Stella Rose.”

“Black?” She smirks into the camera, leaning over in her chair as she continues her makeup.

“Black, of course. Makes me feel sexy,” I chuckle.

“Sorry, bookie. I’m going on a date tonight!”

“With the man that’s not your man, but is your man?” I tease.

She pulls the lip liner down from her face as she glares, “Very funny. That’s why you’re still single.”

“Very funny,” I repeat mockingly.

I could admit, it was way too late to be in the grocery store. But as I continued to sit in my condo with an empty fridge, my stomach began imagining myself cuddling with my favorite snack—Fig Newtons. Now I was here.

“You need to get your ass home, it’s late as hell and you’re by yourself,” my friend reminds me.

“I know, I know. I’m going. Once I get my Stella Rose Imma’ get my ass out—“

I stop. I was originally alone in this aisle as I suddenly heard the sound of feeble crying, my head turning as I look down to see a child. No, a baby. The baby waddles in anguish, his olive toned face red and swollen as his mouth ejected cries. My body was frozen as he stalked towards me, his stubby arms raising as he wailed in my direction.

“Girl,” I raise the phone to my ear, “There is a goddamn baby running towards me in distress.”

My friend's eyes go wide as she looks into the camera, “A baby? Oh hell. It’s some sex trafficking shit. Get out of there!”

“This some scary shit, I’m not going to jail! Or ending up in the back of some van where they tell me they’re gonna sell each of my organs,” I exclaim. The baby continues to bawl, now inches away from me as he then raises his arms up. His dark hair sticks up in different directions, wide eyes practically pleading for help.

“Awe. He’s adorable. Shit. Them’ people might get my ass, what if he’s really in distress?” I look around, seeing as no one else appears in the store but me.

“I still say it’s a trap. Kick the damn thing like you would Chucky!”

“Oh shut up, would you kick your own child?”

“Don’t have kids, can’t answer that.”

I place my phone down in the front of the basket as I turn back towards the small being, gushing, “Awe, Pumpkin. Are you lost?”

I lift him into my hands, wrapping my arms around him and he immediately accepts my gesture, leaning his soft head against my chest. I feel my heart melt, his crying begins to subside as he hides his face in my neck.

“Now sir, you and I both know I’m not your momma’. But that’s okay! Cause you’re adorable. And we’re gonna go find her. Shit, okay, where the hell do you bring a child if he’s lost in the store?” I look back over to the phone.

“Customer service desk, I think.”

“It’s damn near twelve o’ clock at night, Customer Service is most likely closed,” I mutter, “Shit. Okay, um—fuck. I’m gonna have to call the police. Or Jesus. Or Dr.Phil.”

“Don’t call Dr.Phil,” my friend pointed out.

“Right. Imma’ have to go to the front of the store and—“

As I turned to make my way towards the opposite direction I was going, I was interrupted as a man now stood in front of me. I jumped.

“Holy shit, am I really finna’ get kidnapped?!”

As I took in his face, this wasn’t just a man. This was a man. All the way down from the large black boots he wore, my eyes trailed up to his olive toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as a dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand. The silver jewelry he wore stood out on him. Numerous rings and chains, complimenting his onyx shirt that clung to his perfectly sculpted body. His full eyebrows were furrowed at me, scar atop of his lip twitching on his attractive face.

“What are you doing with my kid?”

“What? Oh— I’m sorry, is this your child?” I asked, slightly panicked. As I continued to study this man, he was scarily sexy. Dark hair, dark eyes. He looked evil in the best way. He had…a baby?

"Yeah, he's mine.” The man looked at me with suspicious eyes, sighing as he looked at the baby in my arms.

“What's the matter, champ?" He asked with a kinder and softer tone, the coldness from earlier in his stare now gone.

“I wasn’t trying to kidnap your child!” I admitted, my face going hot. I felt like I needed to admit that as I continued, “He…was crying. And I was just worried. I’m sorry.”

"I never said you were,” He replied. The small scowl on his face was slowly coming back. He reached forward to take the child from my hands, the baby beginning to struggle and cry again. He buried his head back into my arms as he hugged me tighter.

“Oh…” I then looked him up and down, “Wait a damn minute. Are you sure you aren’t trying to kidnap him?”

His face seemed surprised at my question. He looked down at the baby who continued to cry in my arms as he asked, “Kid, what's wrong with you? Why can't you calm down?"

The baby refused to let go of me. As I looked down to his adorable face, he cried as he then put his hands to his mouth. I realize why he’s upset.

I then say, “He looks to be less than two. I um…he seems to have teeth coming in. You should probably get some cold stuff for him to munch on, that probably explains him being so fussy. Once he couldn’t find you in the store, it probably just scared him.”

He looked at the child and noticed the swollenness in his cheeks as well. The man looked up at me, almost shocked at my observation.

"You know about children?" He replied. I could admit that this was an odd interaction. However, it seemed to be enough to break down his guard. His face softened.

“Yeah, I have a lot of siblings that I took care of. I was basically a mom at a young age,” I reply, “But seriously, he’s just hurting. It’s like a toothache all around your gums.”

"Yeah, you're right. It explains the wailing, it's not like I've never seen these symptoms before. Just didn't connect the dots,” He explains, scratching the back of his head. The baby was still crying, but slowly started to calm down. He looked up at me with teary eyes, still refusing to let go. The man tried again to take him from me, but the child held on tighter.

“I’m sorry… I don’t understand why he’s so comfortable with me,” I say softly, rubbing his hair to calm him down further.

The man sighed, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised as he said, “Maybe he saw something about you that he liked?" a teasing smile slowly coming along his face.

“I mean, I was holding some blueberries, does he like those?” I respond awkwardly, shaking my head as I try to flirt back. Was he even flirting?

He chuckles, “I don't know. Maybe he just liked the way you smelled? Or maybe the color of your hair?"

“Maybe. At least now you can remember that your son seems to have a thing for black women. He has good taste already,” I smile softly.

He chuckles again, my shoulders tensing as he briefly washes his eyes over my entire body. He then asks, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Oni’—“ I then stop myself, “Seioni,” I then correct, “Pronounced ‘Say-Oh-Knee. A lot of people just call me ‘Oni’. And um, your name? And your baby’s?”

The look on his face seems to be amused by me. After all of this, the baby finally reaches out to him, the man quickly taking him back into his hands. He then replies, "I'm Toji. And my son's name is Megumi."

“Well, Megumi’s a very beautiful little boy,” I reach out my finger to the baby, he wraps his entire hand around it. “It’s nice to meet you, Toji.”

“Same with you too, Seioni,” He fully pronounces my name, looking down at his child who was still holding onto my finger tightly. Megumi was now rubbing the finger with his whole hand, refusing to let go. Toji tried yanking him away again, but the baby wouldn't budge.

"Don't get too comfortable, I'd rather not have him get fond of you,” Toji replied, to which Megumi let out a small whine.

“Right,” I agree, pulling my finger away from the child. I continue, “But I’m glad he found me when he did, god forbid he’d walked out of the store or worse. But um, I’m sorry again if it seemed like I was trying to take him.”

He sighed as Megumi reached his arms out to me. He begins to apologize, "It's fine. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge….” He muttered, kissing the child's head as he stared at me.

"You seem like a good person."

“Thank you,” I smile, “You seem like you and your baby have a sweet bond. I’m glad he found you safely.”

"I appreciate that. I try to be the best dad I can, this isn’t a good representation of that,” He jokes, holding the child in his arms. Megumi then started to smile, cooing as he gripped onto his fathers shirt.

“So…I um…assume that his mom is at home waiting for you guys?” I ask.

He looked down, smile disappearing from his face. He cleared his throat as he explained, “Unfortunately, no. His mom passed away,” He replies flatly.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I shook my head, “I’m shitty for asking that. I mean—bad, sorry,” I correct my cursing, the baby giggling at my tone of voice.

Toji laughed, “No, no need to apologize. It was just an honest question, but that’s why I'm raising him all alone."

“From what I can see you’re doing an amazing job. He’s a sweet baby, and in the instance of an emergency he ran for help. So, don’t be too hard on yourself,” I compliment him. I adjust my glasses on my face, feeling a small bit of irritation as my ginger hair was slowly falling from its claw clip.

His smile felt a little more genuine than before. He held the baby in his arms as he spoke, “Thank you. I'm glad that he's turning out to be just as good as you think he is."

I notice as silence capacitates the space between us, his eyes now study me the similar way I observed him before. I was wearing a matching set, gray sweatpants and a compression long sleeve. I looked like I had just hopped out of bed, yet, I didn’t feel unattractive to his vision.

I place my hair behind my ear, “Well…um…I should probably get back to my grocery shopping, don’t wanna keep bothering you two.”

"Yeah, you're right. I still have a few things I need to buy." Toji replied, I notice Megumi begins to grumble out fussy sounds. I give him an awkward smile as I then wave to the baby, turning myself back towards my basket to push.

"Wait... can I ask you something?" Toji then said. As I looked at him, he was looking straight at me; not the baby.

“…Yeah, sure!” I nod my head, gripping my grocery list nervously in my hand.

He looked at his son, slowly looking back at me.

"Does that mean you're single, by any chance?"

I'm not sure why my heart skips a beat at the question. “Um…yeah, I am actually,” I clear my throat as I feel my face becoming warm, “Why?”

He chuckles at my reaction as he replies, "The way that he was clinging to you, I thought that maybe he was onto something."

Okay, so he is flirting. Realizing that makes me even more flustered as I speak, “Oh…babies do have good intuition,” I point out. “Well, maybe this was his plan all along…to come find me,” I smile gently.

"Maybe it was. But one things for sure, the boy is interested in you,�� He said, teasing. He tried pulling the baby farther back, Megumi beginning to whine, clearly wanting to stay closer to me.

“Mmm. Fair. But the real question is, is Daddy interested in me?” I tease back, asking the question more so towards Megumi, coming closer as I delicately tickle him with my fingers.

A small smirk appeared on Toji’s face.

"Maybe I am,” He said with a flirtatious tone, his son giggling from the tickles I gave him.

“Well maybe I have a number I can give to Daddy then, hm?” I cooed to Megumi.

As I cooed over the baby, I then looked up into Toji’s eyes directly. From the way he began to look a little flustered, I guess he didn't expect me to be as bold. Maybe Megumi really was on to something.

"You do?" He asked, his voice going raspy as he leaned in a little closer to me.

“I do. Let’s see if he’ll call me then.”

I take a piece of paper out of my notebook, writing my number down and placing it in Megumi’s small hand.

"Shit. Well I might just have to then, Seioni,” He said, eyes following my body as I walked away from him. Before I turned the corner out of the aisle, I saw the baby fumbling with the piece of paper in his hands. Toji smirked as he brought his attention to him, “What did she give you, champ?"

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

MAYBE I WAS BEING A CREEP. It was nearly three in the morning, a small box of Fig Newtons on the table as I stared at my phone, curiously waiting to see if he’d text. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s three a.m, and he has a child.

I wondered to myself why I was even still awake. The interaction from earlier might’ve given me a bit of a high, and now I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I look down as the clock says it’s now 3:01AM, rolling my eyes as I stand up to put my snack away and go to bed.

That’s when the phone begins to ring.

I could’ve flown to the table if I suddenly grew wings, looking over the phone as an unknown number pops up. It probably wasn’t him. Another spam number, mostly likely. I wait a couple of seconds before I pick up the device, stepping back as I press the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

"Is this the beautiful, kind woman that gave her number to my son?" He asked, an immediate flirtatious sound to his voice as he spoke. I could hear the sound of random voices in the background.

My heart fluttered at his deep voice. I confidently replied, “Yes, is this the handsome man with the son?” I closed my eyes, wanting to kick myself in the throat.

He chuckled, amused at my compliment as he spoke, "Yep, that's me. I was surprised that the little one wanted your number so badly."

“Seems like he wanted it more than you did,” I tease.

"That's probably true." He replied, his voice going a little lower, “I do have a couple of questions though." He started to say, sounding a bit more serious now.

“Uh…cool, no problem. Go ahead with your questions,” I prod, sitting myself on my sofa.

He cleared his throat, trying to make clear what he was about to say next. The silence suddenly felt as if he was apprehensive of his question.

“Why are you single? You seem like an incredibly kind and attractive person.”

The question makes me chuckle. “That’s sweet. But…if I'm being honest, I just moved down here. I was in a relationship for a while before we broke up. I owned a tattoo shop back in my hometown, and I decided to expand out here. So, starting fresh in a new city,” I explain.

"You own a tattoo shop, really? I'm surprised I don’t have to fill out an application just to talk to you ,” He joked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“It’s gotten a lot more eyes on it than I ever imagined. But, unfortunately not, as far as the dating scene. My shop kinda runs itself, I have my regular artists who hold it down. I just do the paperwork now,” I reply.

I hear him adjust himself, a smirk now on his voice. “Wow. So you've got this nice shop, plus your own condo?”

I laugh, “Why’s that hard to believe? I’m a woman with her shit together. The topic of companionship never mattered to me, but I also wouldn’t mind the space being filled.”

"So you can handle yourself alone, I feel that,” He replied, giving a little chuckle, “But with all those qualities it just surprises me that you haven't found the right one. If I were to guess, I bet you get a lot of guys who hit on you."

“Not much since I’ve been down here, surprisingly. I’m usually at home a lot, if not in the office of the shop. You’re the first guy to actually approach me—but that was just due to circumstances, I guess,” I giggle.

"True. I’m glad I caught you before somebody else did. You said you were in a serious relationship before moving here, right?"

“Oh. Yeah,” I almost want to roll my eyes at the reminder, “But between you and me, I just turned twenty-nine. I’m ready for a seriously committed relationship. I don’t have time for the stupid shit—That stupid shit being a lot of stuff I dealt with in my hometown.”

"Yeah, I feel you on that,” He chuckles, “Sometimes the fun stuff can turn out to be the most problematic shit. The older we get, the more we learn what we want from someone. What was your previous relationship like?"

I adjust myself on the sofa as I think for a moment. “It was kinda an off and on relationship. He was the person my family wanted me to be with, everybody expected me to marry. But he was…boring? In every aspect. We didn’t have any of the same dreams or aspirations, the sex was pretty mediocre, and he didn’t take me seriously in my career. I don’t hate him, I just didn’t think we weren’t compatible,” I explained, “Is this an interrogation?” I then ask.

"No, no it isn't. I'm just trying to get to know more about you is all, beautiful,” Toji replied, his voice becoming a bit more deeper and flirtatious as he spoke.

"Plus, it seems like you already know what you want, which would definitely weed out a lot of guys anyway..."

“Mmm. So now I’m beautiful,” I repeat, “But yeah, it does. I want someone that’s gonna excite me in every aspect of the relationship. We can be two different people, but there has to be some fiery chemistry to create the connection I’m craving, you know?”

"Ex-act-ly!" He replied, "You want someone that can match your personality, not someone who settles for just whatever is given. Someone who can actually stimulate you, make you feel things that you've always wanted to feel. Someone who's confident and willing to take charge..." He paused, realizing he was going on a little bit of a rant.

"Sorry, I just got a little carried away there," he said with a small chuckle.

“No, you’re fine. We’re not having this conversation for you to be short. That’s exactly what I mean though, everything you said. I’m a lot to handle. And I’m not saying I need a man to ‘handle’ me, but I guess being grounded back down to earth at times…or even ‘handling’ me would be nice. I like a man a lil’ rough around the edges,'' I laugh softly.

"You like a man that's rough around the edges, huh? Someone who can really 'take control' of the situation?” Toji teased back, his voice going a little bit deeper.

I was enjoying how this conversation was going, our flirting felt entirely natural. But I didn’t wanna get ahead of myself yet.

I giggle softly as I reply, “Exactly. That’s exactly what I want,” I confirm, “But what about you? I…don’t want to be intrusive, but I’m just a little curious about Megumi’s mother. What happened to her? Were you guys together before she…passed?”

Silence comes within the phone. I immediately felt bad for even asking the question, quickly correcting myself as I spoke, “I’m sorry—“

"You’re good. We were together before she was pregnant with Megumi but...she passed away shortly after. She was…”

“We don’t have to finish this conversation, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” I reply, hearing his voice becoming different.

"It's fine, really,” he continues, “We were together. We had Megumi, but then she passed from birth complications.”

“I understand. My um…my birth mom actually passed away when giving birth to my youngest brother, which left me and my second brother to go into foster care early—but my family now is perfect. So I understand the feeling you get when you speak about her. I don’t know the actual feeling because that was someone you loved romantically, but my mom was my mom, so…” I shifted my body on the sofa, distracting myself not to become upset, “I get it. Grief comes with time, time comes with patience, patience comes with preservation.”

“And here I thought you were just someone I met by chance,” I feel relieved to hear him teasing again.

I laugh softly, “And here I thought you were some hot guy that looks like a villain, or might be a villain! Clearly there’s more to you than that, and it’s very sweet. But, it seems like you’ll have a little competition in trying to win my affection,” I remind jokingly.

“Villain? Shit, might be. But I don't mind the competition. I'm up for it if you are,” He speaks confidently.

“Competing against your baby son? Shame, Toji,” I shake my head, “I think he had me first, though.”

"Damn. That’s crazy. I guess he does have you all to himself then, huh? But for real, I’m not even jealous. It's just funny seeing him take such an interest in someone. He usually doesn't show much expression to other people, but he really went out of his way to want to know you. So you can take that as a compliment."

“I do, actually. It seems like he’s tired of your ass, he needs a womanly touch,” I playfully insult.

"Oh really? You think you know more about my son than I do?”

“Mmm, I’m not too sure. I mean, I don’t have any kids, yet I somehow knew your baby was teething before you did…weird, right?” I mock his sarcasm.

"Yeah, right. Like you, some lonely ass woman who's got no kids can know more about my own son than me, even though you haven't even spent an hour with him yet,” He scoffed back, “I bet you don't even know that he started a new habit recently."

“Ouch, I am not lonely!” I chuckle, “I have two cats, actually. They’re great companions. And what’s this new habit he started? I’m curious,” I reply.

"He’s really into Doc Mcstuffins, as you can currently hear in my background. He also started chewing his thumb. He'll do it when he gets fussy, or he can't get to sleep...” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice as he talked about Megumi.

“I hope you didn’t take that baby’s pacifier away before he was ready. He’s looking for it, asshole!” I insult, “That’s why he’s chewing on his thumb. You should try putting his pacifier in the freezer and then giving it to him. He’ll love that. And yes, I am a cat lady, better than a fussy man around my house, eating all my food and paying no damn bills!”

"Hey, I didn't take his pacifier away! I would never do that to him. But you're right, I haven't tried the freezer thing with his pacifier yet before. I should do that soon, and see how he takes it."

“Good. The coldness on his teeth will really help that process of them coming in. See, maybe he ran to me because he needed a girly touch to things. The boy knows what he wants in a woman,” I hum.

"Mmm, I think he just wanted to see if he could get a better reaction out of you. I guess he was bored of me. Although, the only type of 'girly touch' I can imagine you doing to a guy is kicking him. You seem far too aggressive for someone that wants to be seen with more of a ‘womanly touch’.”

“Oh god. You did not just hit me with the angry black woman trope. Megumi was practically in love with me. Don’t act like you don’t like my aggression and hostility, otherwise you wouldn’t be on the phone with me,” I laugh.

He laughs, “Nah. It’s not like that. Maybe aggression is kind of 'my thing.' I do have a little bit of a kink for that..." He said, teasing me again.

“Mhm, exactly. I know you think it’s a little sexy, so shut up,” I reply, “ But, I guess to prove that he is in fact in love with me, a second interaction is needed.”

"A second interaction? So you think you're definitely going to win his heart this time, huh?"

“I’ve already won it. And if I don’t, you can laugh in my face for it, hm?” I suggest.

“Imma’ have to set up a second interaction then, just to see which one of us is the winner. I’m not finna’ let you take the heart of my son! I have too much pride for that."

“It’s a deal then. Give me a time, and I’ll be there,” I hum, feeling completely comfortable in this conversation.

"How about... in 3 days. Does that work for you?" I could suddenly hear a flirtatious vibe in his voice.

Three days felt like a very short time. I don’t know why I went from being comfortable to nervous. To be able to actually see this man in person again, it made me…intimidated. But it also made me very curious.

“Mmm, in three days? I think I can do that. Make sure everything’s together in my shop, so I can have all the time for you and your little miniature self,” I chuckle.

"I'll make sure everything is prepared then. But you also better prep yourself as well, you don't know what to expect fuckin’ with me,” he speaks cockily, my eyes rolling at his confident tone.

“You say that as if I’m supposed to be intimidated. I think you should be more worried about handling me, Toji…” I drawled his name sultrily, wanting to play him at his own game.

“Oh for real? And why exactly should I be worried about handling you?" he questioned, his cocky tone returning.

“I’m a shower more than a teller. Guess I’ll just leave that in mystery now.”

"If that's the case, then it seems like I have three days to figure out what kind of woman you actually are before we 'compete' for Megumi's love’,” He said.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll answer the phone, maybe I won’t,” I playfully responded.

"Then I guess I should make sure I stay near the phone the entire weekend, huh? You really want to win Megumi over? Or is it something else?"

“Don’t turn this around on me. Now, I fell in love with little Megumi. It’s a plus that his father is incredibly sexy, so, maybe I am looking for more. But so are you,” I speak slowly, flirting into the phone.

"Be more specific when you tell me what you want from me.”

I raise my eyebrows. Why the fuck did that kinda arouse me?

I clear my throat as I reply, “Damn. You making demands already? So dominant. You want everything your way, I can tell,” I point out, “But, maybe I’m…interested in you romantically as well. God, I should’ve lied, I can feel that cocky ass smirk on your face as I speak.”

“I am dominant,” he corrects me, “But repeat what you said. Are you romantically interested in me?”

I roll my eyes, “Yes, Toji. Happy?”

“Very.”

“Mhm. I think you like that idea a little too much. But, it’s unfortunate that I have to get off the phone. I have to go handle some infuriated customer at the shop, mentally preparing myself for the bullshit as we speak,” I sigh.

“Damn. This late?”

“This late. My shop runs overnight too, my artists love making some money.”

“Me and your artists have that in common… I wanted to talk to you a little bit longer,” he admits.

“Seems like someone’s more interested than they make themselves to be,” I flirtatiously hum, “But seriously, I do have to go. I’m sorry. You’ll see me in three days, so…think on that.”

"I'll be thinking about you for the next three days."

“Goodbye, Toji.” I smiled, hanging up with a small flush on my cheeks. I press my hands to my face as I lay out on the couch, laughing to myself in embarrassment. Dammit. I was such a softy.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

“OKAY. OKAY. FUCK. OKAY, THIS IS GOOD, RIGHT?”

I stand in the mirror of my bedroom, twisting and turning my body as I stare at myself. The black corset clung to my figure. The long skirt I wear is equally tight as my hips struck out, my right hip peeking through from the high slit on one side.

“I mean, it’s not too much, right?” I frown at myself.

“Girl, I’d fuck you. You look amazing,” my friend compliments.

“Thank you. But I’m not looking for him to fuck me, ma’am. I actually…find myself liking him.”

“Ooh, the Ice Queen has a heart?”

“….I might want him to shake my uterus loose. Just a little bit,” I admit.

My friend laughs, “That’s what I thought. But seriously, you look beautiful, Oni’. If he doesn’t want you, we’ll go out to the bar and find a man that does!”

“Thank you. But I don’t want a drunken idiot. I want him,” I say honestly.

My ginger hair comes down in wavy layers as I brush my fingers through it. The color compliments my winged eyes, lips a dark shade of mauve. I hope I can survive in the skimpy strapless heel I wear, a small pink bow on the front straps. I blew out a breath.

“What if he—“

“Girl. You said you were practically caked up with him until damn near five a.m. If the man doesn’t like you, he’s insane.”

I try to shake my insecurities as I exhale, “You’re right. Okay. I’m gonna go, I love you. If I don’t text back in the next two hours, put a police report out on me!”

“Or you’re getting criminally fucked,” my friend smirks.

“You’re disgusting, and that was a horrible pun. Goodbye.”

I hang up the phone, spraying myself of my vanilla perfume as I take another spin in the mirror. I knew I looked good, I just hoped that he felt the same way. Grabbing the small gift bag, I grab my keys as I quickly make my way out of the door.

My heart stammers in my chest as I turn the music up in my Lamborghini, speeding down the road to block out the noise in my head. I usually never had an issue with presenting myself to anyone, especially a man. Why was he any different?

As I think to myself, I look down at the map on the screen of my radio, looking up to see that I was pulling in what looked to be an extremely wealthy neighborhood. All the houses seemed to be older, simple and light colored as I slowed myself down the road. One particular house stood out. As I came to the end of the neighborhood, the last house stood by itself, spaced out between all the others. It was all black, contemporarily styled as it was flat unlike the other houses that were pointed. Most of the walls within this house were glass, my eyes able to see into the home that had all black furniture, marble granite counters and other lavish items. I raised my eyebrow as the map confirmed that I had made it to my destination.

“What the hell…”

I pull my car into the circular driveway, parking next to the three cars that slanted above the grey brick on the ground. They were an all black, matte wrapped Rolls Royce, G-Wagon and a Corvette.

“Huh,” I muttered to myself.

I stepped out of the car, holding my skirt as I slowly made my way up to the front door. My heart began stammering itself again, I took a deep breath as I rang the doorbell. The longer it took for the door to open, the more I thought about just walking away and going home.

The door then swings open, my eyes following up to that same darkly attractive face. This time, with no clothes. He stood there in a dark red towel covering his lower half, using another towel as he dried his onyx hair. My eyes glanced down to the tattoo I’d previously seen, watching it snake all the way up to the side of his neck. The body that I’d see before was now in full view, more perfectly toned and defined up close. His veins traveled in his arms, flexing as he dried himself off.

“Hey, Pretty. I’m sorry for not being ready, Megumi’s pacifier went missing before I put him down for his morning nap, so that fucked up my track of time. You would’ve thought that shit was world war three,” he explains. He eyes me up and down as he then takes my hand, kissing my palm. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “And it’s fine…did you find it?”

I try to distract myself as my eyes flicker down to the bulge that stares back at me, bigger than I’d imagine it to be.

“Yeah, in his damn toy box. Let me get dressed, I’ll come meet you back downstairs. Come in.”

I nod my head, watching as he turns away and begins walking down the hall, my upper body leaning into the door as I watch him.

“You still lookin’?” He calls teasingly, obviously noticing my eyes.

“Mhm…” I call back, watching as he disappears down the hallway.

Closing the door behind myself, I notice that all of his shoes are by the front. I take that as a sign that he doesn’t allow shoes on his floor, removing my heels next to the outrageously smaller shoes next to his. My eyes take in the up-close scenery of this house, all black architecture with minimalist decoration. Paintings of women with no faces lay along his walls, silver electronics sat on the tables, leading up to a TV as big as a theater screen. My ears catch attention to the music dancing all around the house, I nearly roll my eyes.

“Of course this motherfucker listens to Brent,” I mutter.

I sit the small gift bag I have against the table, leaning myself on the end as I continue to stare at his home. My eyes come back down as he now appears, fully dressed in a black long sleeve and matching sweatpants.

“The present is for Megumi I’m assuming? Kiss ass,” he disses.

I roll my eyes, “Whatever, hater. Don’t be mad cause you didn’t think of it!”

“What’s in there?” He repeats, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, since you think I’m such a kiss ass, I thought I’d buy some Silicone Teethers for your baby, and to help your big headed ass.”

“My head’s that big?”

“Anyways, I figured these would be better for soothing the pain. You can put these in the freezer. I also got him a new pacifier as well.”

“Cute,” is all he says, his gaze shifting down my body.

“Where’s Megumi?” I then raise my eyebrows, “You’re easily distracted.”

“I can’t help myself,” he shrugs, “He’s still down from his nap earlier.”

“Mmm,” I reply back, scanning him up and down as I compliment, “You have a nice ass house. But what do you do for work? I mean, luxury cars, inputted speakers in the ceiling? You in the mafia or something?”

“You’re half right, but it’s not always mafia related work.”

“Oh hell. I was joking,” I reminded him, “You’re serious?”

“And I get paid damn well for it.”

“And you trust me to keep this secret?”

“You can do whatever you want with that information, see where it gets you.”

“Ooh, boy. Please don’t get smacked,” I threaten.

“I appreciate the stuff you got him, seriously. Thank you. Tryna’ play mommy already?” He grins.

“You wish. The hopeless romantic you are, Toji,” I sigh, “Haven’t even been around me for an hour yet. Sure you aren’t falling in love already?”

“Who said that I wasn’t? I’m a grown ass man, I like you. And?”

He came closer to me as I still leaned against the end of the table, hovering over my frame as he stared down at me. I grinned to myself, “Well I might like you too, but I like playing hard to get.”

“That’s cool, I like to play with my prey before I catch it,” He plays back with me.

I raise my eyebrows, “You’re one arrogant bastard, aren’t you?”

The natural flirtation had returned. I raise my hand out as I place it at the bottom of his shirt, twisting as I tug him forward.

“You like it,” he comes even closer, bringing his eyes down to my lips as he leans in. I then pressed my hand against his lips as I stopped him from kissing me, giggling sultrily as I said, “I think you should go get your son, Toji.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t.”

I shake my head, amused at his now irritated face as I push him back and say, “You should. I’ll be here.”

“You better be,” he gruffly responds, turning as he makes his way back down the hallway of his house. I blew out a breath, my composure coming down as I felt my heart slowly speeding itself up. As I looked around, I began to wonder how many women had been in this house. It wasn’t my business, but I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t one of his conquests.

I turn my head as I hear footsteps making their way back towards the living room, ridding my mind of all the thoughts I had.

“You look nervous,” he notices.

“Not at all,” I lied.

I look behind him as I hear small footsteps clumsily making their way into the living room, my heart melting all over again as Megumi appears. He wears a brown wool onesie, the hoodie attached to the neck part having animal ears that looked to be bears. He wears a small golden chain around his wrist.

“Don’t ask about the onesie, the boy loves his teddy bears,” Toji shakes his head.

Instead of coming straight towards me, we both watched as Megumi stumbled around the room, observing everything that he could as he walked around. His cheeks were fat and full, movements reckless as he was bumping into things by accident.

I slowly squat down as I smile softly, “Hi, handsome. Miss me?”

Megumi's head quickly turned around as he heard me, his big golden eyes now meeting mine. Excitement comes along his soft face, a squeak releasing from his lips as he nearly falls over, staggering to me. I laugh shockingly as I catch him in my arms, picking him up as I squeeze gently.

"Ah shit. He likes you,” Toji smacks his lips.

“Mmm, I think he does, too. Now, didn’t you say that we were betting on winning his affection? Cause I think I’m doing pretty well. He recognized me all the way from the grocery store.”

“I think you’ve won the bet.”

“I know I did,” Megumi wraps his small arms around my neck and hair, leaning himself against my chest. I cooed, “Hi, sweetheart. I got you something, wanna see?” I knew that he couldn’t respond, but I still wanted to communicate with him.

“Look,” I turn, sitting him against the large black table, pulling out the teether I mentioned earlier. I also grabbed the small rattle I hadn’t mentioned to Toji, placing it in his hand. I take his wrist as I gently shook it from side to side to show him what to do. Megumi began to shake it around, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he did so.

“I think I might’ve chosen the wrong toy for your Daddy’s sake. Seems like he won’t be sleeping for a while,” I whisper, playfully rubbing my finger against Megumi’s cheek.

I could hear him chuckling behind me, coming forward as he kissed the baby's cheek, “You like everything, lil’ man?”

“Hm?” I then lift the cold pacifier I have in the bag as well as other cold toys, placing it in his mouth. The baby hummed softly in response, causing me to smile, turning to Toji as I spoke, “He really does like everything!”

“I can tell, you like everything, hm?” He then raises the baby up in the air, giggles flying all around the room. I laugh quietly at their interaction.

“So, how many women have you played house with like this?” I can’t keep this question to myself anymore.

He holds Megumi to his chest as he hears my question, raising his eyebrow as he replies, “Many women, if you really wanna know.”

That made me roll my eyes as he then continued, “But don’t act like you haven’t had as many men in comparison.”

“Mmm, I actually haven’t. But as for you, that’ll be an issue if you expect me to take you seriously,” I tilt my head.

“What are you trying to say?”

I sigh. “You’re sexy, Toji. I’m not stupid to think you don’t have multiple notches on that bed post of yours, you have a child, for god’s sake. Your sexual appetite is probably…hungry at all times. Especially if you had a woman crazy enough to moan that she wanted your child. But seriously, I don’t care about that. I just wanna make sure I’m not another one of your conquests, cause if that’s the case, we can cut this interaction extremely short.”

The amusement on his face makes a glare almost come to mine. When he notices that I’m entirely serious he comes forward as he says “You aren’t,” affirming my suspicion.

“We’ll see,” I then hum. “So, were we gonna spend the rest of the day with Megumi? Or did you want me all to yourself, you did seem a little jealous on the phone,” I tease.

"I would actually like to spend some alone time with you...but if you're okay with just spending the rest of the day with Megumi, I'm fine with that too,” he replies, shrugging as he awaits my answer.

“Mmm, I think I can spend some time with you, Daddy,” I said sultrily, “Where will Megumi be?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, “Think I’ll probably put him down for his evening nap.”

“Sure. He seems to be…already there,” I giggle as I then notice Megumi passed out on Toji’s chest.

“I’ll go put him down. Want a glass of wine? I don’t do that expensive shit, it isn’t all that good…do you drink Stella Rose?” He asks.

I place my hands on my chest as I sigh dreamily, “You had me at Stella Rose.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods, making his way back down the hallway. He then came back and went into the kitchen. I sat myself along the sofa, my eyes sweeping over his large arms, wondering how strong he was. I could feel a chill go down my spine at the thought.

I take the glass out of his hand as I see he also poured himself a glass of brown liquor, “Thank you,” pressing my lips up to the sweet drink. He sits himself against the sofa next to me, scooting me closer to him as he pulls my legs over his thigh.

“So, tell me, what’s the plan for you in a couple of years. You mentioned your….illegal activities, anything else you wanna do career wise?” I curiously ask.

“Mmm, own a jet, build an enterprise, be able to buy Megumi anything he wants under the sun. And…time travel,” he shrugs, sipping his drink.

“I’m assuming you have a plan…” he asks curiously, finding my topic to be intriguing.

“Well, eventually. My business is doing great as of right now. All my artist get paid pretty well for their work, so I want to get to a point where I can open multiple shops nationwide. I’ll have managers for those shops, not even have to do any of the work. Just watch the money roll in,” I shrug.

“Sounds like you’re pretty confident in yourself.”

“I’m pretty cocky when it comes to my career, I’ll admit. I’m a badass tattoo artist, the work speaks for itself. My pen is fucking dangerous,” I admit, taking another sip of my wine, giggling to myself. I was becoming a little tipsy, I knew that.

“I hope you really got the skills to back it up then,” he grins.

“Of course. All the ink on my body, I’ve done myself.”

He scans my body, noticing all the ink upon it. He then asks, “What’s your biggest piece?”

“For sure my tiger. As you can see it kinda swims to my thigh,” I refer to the red ink that scales my skin, “Everything else was kinda out of pure boredom. But pure boredom caused that scar on my ass, so,” I laugh.

"You’re saying that you have more pieces due to pure boredom alone..." He repeated with a soft chuckle, finding it funny. When I mentioned the scar on my ass, he burst out laughing.

"How in the hell...did you get a scar on your ass?" He asked, unable to stop laughing.

“I tried to do a tattoo on my ass and went too hard with the needle. It’s a sad story,” I pout.

" Were you drunk at the time or something?"

I smack his arm as he still laughs, “Hey! Laughing is not allowed. I pride myself on tattooing in any state of mind. But…maybe I was a bit inebriated,” I admit, taking another sip of wine.

“You’re crazy…”

“I have a nice ass, what can I say? I thought some ink would look nice on there,” I shrug, laughing with him.

“I’ll agree, that ass is something else,” he shrugs, finishing off his drink.

“Oh? So you admit you’ve been looking at my ass?” I raise my eyebrow, “And oh, c’mon! I’m sure you have a bad drunk story.”

“Nothing as wild as your shit,” he chuckles.

“Whatever,” I shrug, “Back to this time travel thing, were you serious?”

“Kinda…you know in mythology, time travel is real.”

“Oh god, are you tipsy?” I joke, “Hm. Well, what would you do if you had the ability to time travel?”

“Probably travel back to a time where my family was alive. I’d change a lot,” he responds.

“Pretty understanding. To meet the people that created you is a wondrous adventure, I’d assume. Or a horrible idea. Same difference. I’d steal the Statue of Liberty or something, I don’t give a damn if it’s an important artifact. The bitch is terrifying,” I finish off my glass of wine.

“Something we can agree on. You uh…good on the wine?” He tilts his head.

“Boy, please. I drink wine like I drink water. And what the hell were you drinking? Does it turn you into a monster or something?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Nah, nothing like that. It was just Crown. Shit just makes me a little more flirty and outspoken.”

“So your regular self, then?”

“Exactly.”

“So how are you feeling right now then? About me?” I ask curiously.

“About you?” He repeats, thinking to himself, “I’d say I find you pretty charming, funny, sexy. All of the above.”

“And…you’re physically attracted to me?” I lean closer to him, a warmth over my entire body that only happened when I drank. Damn you Stella Rose.

“I’d be lying if I wasn’t, Oni’.”

“Well good, cause I find you pretty attractive as well,” I smile, “If you remember, you um…tried to kiss me before you brought Megumi out,” I mentioned.

“Did I?” He replies, a sarcasm along his face. Now he was playing with me. “I think you liked that shit, didn’t you?”

“I did. I think… I might want you to test your luck again…” I tempted.

“Really?” He grins, seeing as I have a new set of confidence within myself, eyeing me up and down as I crawl closer to him.

“Mhm,” I sat my wine glass down, pushing myself up as I now straddled his lap. I placed his hands on my hips.

His eyes widened slightly, fingers gripping around my hips yet he said nothing as he watched me. I then asked, “What’s wrong?” trailing my finger down his chest, bringing my eyes up innocently.

“…Nothing…” he stumbles, still unable to say more than that.

“What happened to that cocky man that always wanted things his way, hm? I think I miss him…” I trail off, biting back my smile.

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” His eyes come down, staring down at my lips. I could tell that he was tempted to kiss me, and if being honest, I really wanted him to.

“I mean…Toji…” I slowly come forward, hovering my lips right above his as I speak, “If you wanna kiss me…come take what you want.”

It’s almost as if the suggestion made something in him snap. The urge that had been slowly building up was now in control of him, as he leaned forward, closing the tiny distance between our mouths. But instead of just taking what he wanted from me, he started to gently brush his lips against mine in a slower, softer way. With all the flirting I did earlier to get to him, it was his time to do the same.

His lips slowly ran against mine, teasingly touching my bottom lip before he moved to the top one as well. It felt all too enticing. His teasing caused me to grip the bottom of his shirt, twisting it slightly as he made me aroused. I whimpered at this movement embarrassingly, wanting to pull him closer. He couldn't help but smirk. He slowly grabbed my hips as he brought himself closer to me. I wanted more.

“Don’t play with me,” I beg, “Kiss me.”

"I think I'll keep playing..." He countered, thankfully having no plans to keep me waiting any longer. His hands gripped my hips tightly as he moved his mouth against mine, passion flooding in. My words had caused him to lose control of himself, and the flirty talk from earlier was nowhere in sight. He also wanted more. Badly.

I moved my lips with his, nearly losing my senses as his tongue was in my mouth, taking control of the kiss as if he were trying to assert his dominance. I relaxed in his hold, allowing myself to submit to him. I was in a trance. I’d never been so aroused from just a kiss, the ache between my thighs beginning to grow as I slowly grind myself against him, moaning softly at the feeling.

He was practically filled with adrenaline. His hands gripped tightly around my hips as my moan echoed in the room, he moaned softly in response to my movement. His lips ran aggressively against mine, tongue exploring my mouth. When he pulled back, I now felt his lips along my throat, holding the side of my neck as he sucked the skin. I closed my eyes and breathed harshly, “T—Toji…I think you’re a little drunk…” I giggle, my breath hitching intensely.

"Yeah...maybe I am a little bit..." He muttered softly against my neck as he continued to lightly suck, enjoying the way I was reacting to his actions. He definitely wasn't stopping what he was doing, now biting my flesh.

I moaned at the slight pain from him biting the skin, feeling myself becoming more aroused. I could feel my corset lowering, my nipples being exposed to him and my face flushed in embarrassment as I tried to pull the material up. I kept thinking, was this gonna lead to sex? Was I ready for that with him?

“Toji…I just…wait,” I breathed, his mouth all over my skin, “I just…wanna make sure that this is the right time for us to do this…” I kept talking, moaning as he continued to touch me.

"Well...” He breathed out in between kisses, “When do you think is the right time?"

“I don’t know…I—guess there isn’t necessarily a t—time,” I responded, aroused at every touch he made against my skin, I moaned again for him as I whimpered, “S—so…good…”

I knew the way I answered with a stutter caused his eyebrow to raise in curiosity, deciding to probe a little further. His hands roamed all over my body as his kisses traced my neck, speaking to me in a flirty tone.

"So...you're telling me...that it doesn't necessarily matter the time when we do this? Because...if that's the case..." He sighed, hands sliding down to my thighs.

“N—no…” I shivered, realizing that he was now messing with me. I wanted him to continue. Dammit. Why was I nervous again? I could barely respond back to him. I inhaled a sharp breath as I then felt his hand find my hair, tugging as he used his other hand to grip my throat, pulling me close to his face.

"Ahh...so now you're getting scared..." he whispered into my ear.

“I’m not scared…” I panted, trying to remove his hand from my throat as he gripped a bit tighter, pulling me so close to his face as he cockily smiled. I couldn’t help it, I loved the way he was talking to me.

"You sure?" His hand readjusted with the intent to squeeze harder if I kept resisting.

“M’…not scared of you, Toji…” I gritted out my teeth.

The way I spoke made him smirk even more at my words. He wanted to hear me say something.

"Oh? Well, what are you scared of, then?" He whispered softly against my ear, the hand that was previously in my hair sliding up my thighs, squeezing my ass gently.

I was nervous to actually admit this. I then closed my eyes as I responded, “How r—rough you can be…” I admit. I was intimidated by him, but it only excited me more.

"That’s how you want it?"

I nodded my head, shivering at his mouth against my ear, “Yes, please.” I nodded again.

I barely had time to react. My breath hitched as he then flipped our positions on the sofa, I grunt as he bent me over the furniture, pushing my back inward so I arched my body against him. He ripped my skirt off of my legs, my ears hearing the material shred lightly. I jump as he spanks the skin of my thigh.

“So polite…”

“Toji…I…”

I took in another sharp breath as he pulled me upwards to where my back met with his chest, his hand coming around from behind as it gripped my throat, pulling me close to him. He used his other hand as he ripped the lace of my underwear apart, the fabric trickling down to the ground. My eyes flicked upwards to the wall across from us. I could see myself in full view. He twisted my hair in his fist, tugging me up to look in his eyes. Leaning down, he spread my flesh apart with his fingers as he attached his mouth between my legs, immediately sucking on my clit. I closed my eyes as a moan plummeted from my lips. I arched myself forward, his hand in my hair pulling me backwards onto his tongue, mouth creating a sloshing sound against my core. I groaned at the feeling, swaying my hips to match his movement. He grunted against my skin, spanking his palm down on my ass in repetitions.

My stomach cramped as I tensed, arching myself down to see him from behind me. His eyes flicked up to mine, a grin surfacing against my skin. He closed his eyes as he placed his hands under my legs, pulling me backwards as he moaned, full on making out with my lower lips, tongue continuously dipping in and out of my opening.

“‘Shit ain’t never tasted so good, baby. Never had anything like you. Imma eat your shit until you squirt,” he groans.

It’s unfortunate that I wasn’t too long from doing that. I could barely hold myself together, circling my hips onto his face, his tongue lapping as if he starved for me, ached for me. He was chaotic in the best way, face diving entirely into me, sucking harshly on my clit as he gripped my hips, grinding me against his tongue. I could feel myself gushing before I could realize. He encourages, “Yeah, baby. She listening to me, huh?”

I shuddered against him, taking in the breath I’d lost as he now fully stands. He removed his shirt, throwing it to the side as he brought his eyes to mine.

“Come take these off, see what’s finna’ be yours soon.”

I turn fully, seeing him back up. “Crawl,” he demands.

The heat in my body turned up with every word he said. I lower myself off the sofa, placing my hands in front of each other as my legs sultrily follow, flicking my eyes up to his as I pull his sweatpants down. His length springs in front of my face, bigger than I’d seen from his bulge earlier. It was heavy in my hand as I immediately brought my fingers around it, his hand coming back into my hair as he tugged my eyes upwards, “You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Of course you fuckin’ do,” he pulls my jaw open, sliding himself in between my lips, filling my mouth until I felt him in the back of my throat. He grunts, my mouth bobbing against his hips as I choke, humming out the drool releasing from the sides of my lips.

I tried my best to keep up with his movements, swaying my neck back and forward as I closed my eyes, moaning as he fixed himself to the back of my throat. He pulls out from my mouth, slapping himself against my tongue as he speaks, “Treating this shit like it already belongs to you, hm?”

I nod my head. He leans himself down as he slides his hand to where it meets the side of my face, keeping a slight grip of my jaw beneath his fingers. I had never seen myself be this immediately submissive towards a man. But I also didn’t feel bad about it either.

“Wanna put it back in your mouth, or you want me to fuck you?”

“Fuck me.”

“Please?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Please,” I softly repeat myself.

“That’s what I thought,” he replies smugly, lightly smacking the side of my cheek. I have the urge to roll my eyes, nipples hardening at the hand along my face.

As I’m back against the sofa, I turn myself to face the mirror to see my expression was now purely filled with lust, wanting to fulfill the fantasy I imagined every time I stared at him. He follows behind me as he brings his hand to back of my neck. I had no room to argue as he leaned me forward, my nipples pressing against the leather material. He takes his other hand as he grips my hip, tip bobbing up and down gently along my folds. He pushed himself in inch by inch, stretching me in a way I’d never felt before, causing my mouth to drop open. I gasped loudly. I felt a deep pinch in my lower stomach, the feeling equally overriding in a deep sense of pleasure. I whimpered loudly, “Tojiii…”

He couldn't help but grin at the way I reacted to him. His grip around my throat became tighter when he heard these things, my shivering continuing as our hips met one another. Chills crawled up my spine. He moved slowly at first, taking his time as it caused me to drag out a moan, feeling every single pleasure from him. I closed my eyes, using the sofa as leverage as I found something to hold onto. “Oh god…”

His gentle movement allowed this feeling to last a lifetime. My moans seemed to be something that he found extremely hot, planning to continue the pace to keep it going for as long as possible. His hand circled around to the front of my throat, continuing to move against me, not speeding it up just yet. I wasn’t sure if I wanted more or if this was just as perfect.

“Oh my…” I gasped, trembling as I bit my lip to control my voice. His slow movements were driving me insane, feeling so good. I couldn’t hide the amount of pleasure I felt as I kept talking to him, “Baby…” I called, finding another term of endearment for him, “F—Feels so good,” I nodded my head.

“I know.”

I continued to gasp, shake, moan, and whimper. He knew it was driving me insane, wanting to keep moving slowly for as long as possible. My words were more than enough to fill his ego. He continued to go at the same pace for a bit, then began to speed up. He was curious to see just how much more pleasure he could make me feel.

My grip on the sofa became tighter. He loosened his hold on my throat as he then moved that same hand upwards as he slid his fingers in my mouth, using the leverage to pull me back against him. I then began helping him, moving myself back to match his rhythm, causing me to moan a bit louder.

“Toji….” Is all I could say, my head falling back as I moaned, his fingers shoving deeper in my throat. I lost control of my own rhythm, the leverage he had against me stronger as he bounced me back onto him. My eyes fluttered shut as I gasped from the feeling, whining as I continued to filthily bounce against him. I babbled, “Toji…baby…my god….” I just couldn’t stop myself. I slowly began to feel pleasurable tears forming in my eyes.

"Is that all you can say at this point? Is that what I've reduced you to? Just a simple whimper and my name?” He says back to me, continuing to thrust himself back in. His rhythm became faster as he dragged me back down more aggressively. My noises became louder, more feminine and filled with pleasure. He was right. I couldn’t stop moaning his name. He then added another hand to my throat, now gripping it harder this time with two hands as I bounced back and forth.

“Toji…I—I can’t…” I panted, whining as I wrapped my hand around one of his wrists, neither of his hands letting up from their hold against my throat. I looked up as I could see the mirror across from the sofa, my eyes closing embarrassingly as I could see myself. My flustered and submissive face. When I saw Toji noticing my stare, I grunted as he forcefully pointed my face to the mirror, now snapping his hips into mine.

“You’re a big girl, Oni’. I know you can talk to me. You can't do what?” He asks, “Look at you, big girl” . He keeps my face up to my reflection, “Taking my dick like this. Your pussy is gripping the fuck out of me. She likes it, so I know you do. Keep whining. I love that shit.”

I closed my eyes, unable to hold myself together anymore. I cried out, “Oh my goddd. I love the way you’re fucking me, baby. Yes,” I groaned, crying out louder as he never stopped his movements.

He smiled as I cracked beneath him, my moans uncontrollable at this point. The way I cried out for him was a way I never responded to any man in bed. His hands now tightened around my throat in a way that it was almost too much, yet there was no second of my mouth shutting. I just kept going.

“I hate you,” I cried, “You’re making me feel so… fucking good,” I moaned loudly, my eyes unable to snatch themselves away from his face in the mirror.

His grip finally loosened a bit, still remaining firm as he started to go even faster against me. His low laugh echoed along the room in a way that heightened my embarrassment. However, he'd keep going anyway.

He pulled me upward and close to his chest, holding me firmly as he fucked me. My ears listened as he brought his lips to them, speaking filthily, "You know you love it when I choke you, right? You like the fact that I take control…You like being used by me..”

I closed my eyes, whimpering and crying like a baby. I nodded my head as I trembled, “Yes. Yes. Yesssss…” was all I could make out.

Our bodies were in unison, his ego most likely in the high heavens by now. The way he spoke filthily into my ear would only cause him to hit more buttons, he held my face tightly in his hold, voice right in my ear. He spoke into it, sending chills down my spine.

"Say it, baby…”

“…Say..what…” I panted heavily, bringing my eyes away from the mirror.He was implausible, never slowing down his movements. I was listening.

"Say you belong to me..." He spoke in a firm tone, holding both of my hands down behind my back as he kept up with his movements.

“N—no,” I stuttered, biting my lip as I lowered my head. He used the leverage he had on my arms pulled behind me and pulled me up again, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror as he bounced me back onto him harder than before. I whined, my entire body trembling beneath him. The fact that I didn't immediately obey his commands caught his attention, as he'd grip me harder to make me look at myself as well as him. The bouncing back and forth on the sofa made my muscles weak as he kept going, speaking to me through both the mirror and his own mouth.

"Such a stubborn girl...do you want to be owned by me, or do I need to break you first..."

I closed my eyes, saying nothing in response. I could feel the arrogance pouring off of him, a low sob releasing from my chest as he tugged me back against him, my arms begging to be released from his hold. His smirk grew even more as I didn't respond to his words, keeping me close to his body. He knew I enjoyed every second of this.

“My fuckin’ god….Daddy,” I whined, my entire body purely hot from embarrassment as I called him this, his movements making me submissively chaotic. I watched him in the mirror, unable to hold myself together as I kept babbling, “I’m yours, baby. It’s yours. All of it. Just don’t stop. My god. Don’t stop.”

I spoke all of this into the mirror. I meant every word I said. His hips plummeted into mine, merciless as our skin slapped together. My entire vision filled with the image of my own body, hot and trembling, as he continued to go.

“Tell me I’m yours, I love when you talk to me. Tell me I’m fucking yours,” I cry, knowing I’d hate myself later for it, “Tell me I’m a good girl, I’m listening, you make me feel so good. No one has…” I took in another breath, “Ever made me f—feel this good.”

"You're mine," he spoke now, sounding more aggressive and demanding.

“Say it again,” I beg, seeing the tears in my face as I looked in the mirror, biting my lip as I couldn’t stop moaning.

He smirked as I begged. He knew I would despise myself later on, but the words made him smile even more. It all filled him with so much arrogance.

“You’re mine.” He repeated this to me, drilling himself between my hips, skin wetly coming together each time he was inside me.

“Yes. I’m yours baby, all yours. Yes. Yes. Yes.…” I said through each movement, crying out in a way I’d never heard myself before.

"And you belong to me?” He asks, grin on his face as he'd make the movements a bit slower. As if he was teasing me for the next answer.

“Nobody else, Daddy,” my tears poured in a quick stream, dropping down onto the sofa as he had his way with me.

The way he heard these words, the way I answered him so quickly. I knew for a fact that I’d never forget tonight, and he knew that I’d be begging for him again soon. Very soon.

“I’m so close….I’m gonna…please don’t stop, Toji. Please…” I called to him, full on crying now, my body trembling so hard that I had to firmly hold myself up.

"Beg me..." he demanded. He was moving slower, as if he was teasing me even more. There was no tiredness in his voice, as I was becoming extremely exhausted from each movement he made against me.

“I’m begging, baby. Please. I’ll never stop fucking begging,” I cried, dragging out my words.

"Good girl..." he spoke, a chuckle hiding in his tone. My tension began to rise, my body becoming harder and harder to hold as he was still going slow. His grip on my throat didn't loosen this time, holding onto me firmly. I could feel that same pinch beginning to build in the pit of my stomach, begging to be released from his pleasurable touch.

My body relaxed, my wet eyes shutting and taking him as he sped up again. I giggled as I whined, “That’s it , baby. Just the way I wanted it. Yessss.”

"Just a little bit more..."

“Yes…just a little more…I’m gonna….” My wet eyes cascaded tears from them, looking up into the mirror as I watched him. “Look at me, look how good you’re making me feel, I…I’ll never think about anyone else…”

He moaned at my words. The way he made me see myself in the mirror, he knew this was exactly what I wanted. His movements became more sloppy, tugging me back and forth in a way he didn’t care, like he hated me. He wanted me to beg for him again.

“I….just…don’t stop. Right there…that’s my spot…you’re hitting it so good…” I whined, my body shivering chaotically.

"Is that a good spot for you, baby?" A cockiness had never left his voice, almost mocking mine. He angled himself as he lowered down, swiveling his hips into me, my hips wining as they followed his motion.

“Y-es,” my voice broke as I spoke back, hiccuping my cries, “I’m falling in love with the way you’re fucking me….” I jumbled out, not even hearing my own words as they came out in moans. He slowly pulled himself out as he then slammed back into me. No noise releases from my mouth as it’s now agape, eyes rolling to the back of my head as if I were possessed.

“Toji…I’m close…” I bit my lip again, fluttering my wet eyes, my body unable to hold itself up.

“Don’t tell me something I already know. Look at that pretty fucking face,” he forces my eyes up to the mirror again, twisting his hand in my hair as he turned my ear to his lips. His voice was like a sinister taunt in my mind, reading how much power he had over me as he continued, “Squirt all over my dick. Paint it like it’s finna’ be yours. It is yours,” he grips my hair tighter, pulling himself out slowly as he moans, “Look at you, baby, creaming my shit. Looks like you want to cum. Might have to give you more than that,” he doesn’t stop. He slams back in, bouncing me back with just one hand as he promises, “Megumi needs a sibling. Might just give you a fucking baby.”

I screamed. I screamed in a way that I never screamed before. My body trembled, the pressure at the bottom of my stomach releasing as I orgasmed. I turned my head towards him as I begged, “Kiss me Daddy, please.”

His breath was heavy as he heard me finally reach my climax, he knew all of this was just the result of him keeping me on the edge and teasing for so long. The sound of me screaming with pleasure filled his ear, that fucking scream of mine, it was something that would haunt my memory for a long long time to come. The way I begged him at the end made his grip loosen on my throat, turning his face over to kiss me.

He moaned against my lips, a kiss more intimate than any time before entering my mouth as I felt a warmth filling inside me, his body never completely stopping as we grind against each other. I whimpered as my body relaxed, accepting the kiss further. Making out with this man in a way that I would’ve kissed my husband. I was fucking crazy. As I opened my eyes, I fully saw myself for the first time. My makeup was all over my face, mascara running down my cheeks as I stared at him. My entire face was completely red. I couldn’t believe who I had become. It was as if he could see all of my thoughts. But instead of being empathetic, he simply brought his hand around my throat as he hovered his face over my neck, dragging his tongue along the skin. I laughed sultrily, breathless in my entire being as all I said was, “You really are fuckin’ evil.”

The sound of Megumi crying also filled my ears with his arrogant chuckle. That reaction told me that from that point on, I was indeed fucked.

“Damn right,” he grunted.

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #anime oneshot #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji imagine #jjk toji #toji #toji x black character #black characters #black women #baby megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #black stories #reading #writers on tumblr

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rememberwren · 5 months ago

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/•Harmless Fun 8•\

Former and further chapters here.

You (fem!reader) and Johnny and Simon watch a movie. CW: Fingering, handjobs, cum-eating. For @/laughroditee.

Sharing a bathroom with Johnny and Simon turns out to be a lot more invasive than you expected.

It's not actually the bathroom that’s the invasive part. That is no more invasive than sharing any public space, really. You’re a little more secretive with your tampons, and they’re likely a little more stringent in their efforts to clean up after themselves. Even-Steven and all that. You’re all very careful to never even so much as knock when the door is closed, lest you disturb the person within.

The worst part is that the bathroom can only be accessed through your bedroom.

You had envisioned (somehow, sillily) that they would only need the bathroom during daylight hours, and likely when you weren’t home. You trusted them not to go through your belongings, but it felt so personal for Johnny to knock on your door and ask to piss when you’re dressed in your skimpy relaxing clothes (the ones you don’t even subject the rest of the apartment to).

It felt even more personal to wake up in the night to the water running and catch Simon coming out of the bathroom twenty minutes later with dripping hair in nothing but one of his compression t-shirts and boxer-briefs. The two of you freeze at the sight of the other. He jerks a thumb toward the shower, like that explains everything. You hold up a sleepy thumbs-up, though you’re decidedly less sleepy than you were twenty minutes before you were given a front row seat to just how thick Simon’s thighs are.

Laying in bed, smelling the steam and scent of Simon’s body wash waft gently from the bathroom, if you roll over onto your belly and slip a hand down your panties, nobody ever has to know.

Except that’s a problem too. Your time for dedicated masturbating (not the frantic, haphazard rubbing-one-out that you’ve taken to since the other bathroom flooded) has decreased dramatically. Before, you would have felt no guilt locking the door and taking care of your own needs—but now just beyond your door was an intrinsic piece of the apartment. You couldn’t just lock your roommates out and tell Johnny or Simon to come back later. You had to be accessible. It was a nightmare.

Johnny was the opposite of a help. He was happy to let you rub against his cock (and more than once you’d come to one of those superficial, limb-tingling orgasms) but he was masterful at distracting you from asking for more.

It led to some stressful days.

Today was a bad pain day for Johnny, which had turned him sullen and taciturn. He spent most of the day stationed on the couch (finding every excuse to avoid standing up) and in charge of the remote control. It didn’t help that repairs were being done to the bathroom today, with strangers filtering in and out of the apartment. Simon hadn’t been able to go out on a single run, and you could tell that he was drawn tense as a bowstring.

You made it a personal mission to remain in your bedroom during the repairs, anxious at the strange men in the apartment and the tense feelings tangible in the air.

By the time dinner rolls around and the repair people are gone, you are eager to be outside of your own four walls. You can’t help craving Johnny and Simon’s company—or any company really, after an entire day spent listening to drills and hammering, feeling trapped thanks to your own social anxiety. Simon helps Johnny to the balcony and lets him smoke, the tension in his shoulders melting away some. By the time dinner rolls around, Johnny is in a better mood, and starving.

All three of you eat at the sofa instead of the table, brushing elbows and thighs and trying not to make messes of yourselves. A cool breeze comes in with the evening, and Simon stands to shut the balcony doors.

“Sit with me?” Johnny asks, spreading his thighs.

You frown. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then be gentle to me, aye?”

You sit with your back against his chest, his arms looped around you. “Jesus, yer freezing.”

“You’re warm,” you murmur, pressing yourself more firmly against him, careful not to jostle his bad thigh. Simon takes a seat at the other end of the couch and you meet his eye accidentally—but he doesn’t look angry. There’s something surprisingly tender and fond in his gaze. He overhears your conversation and drags the duvet off the back of the couch, laying it over you both. Immediately you are swathed in warmth, melting deeper against Johnny. You loop your arms through his, keeping them wrapped securely around you.

The three of you get sucked into a movie on the television—some of you more than others.

It’s hard for you to focus on anything besides Johnny and the ache between your legs. Being so close to him has awoken it, stoked it from embers into a deep burn. It doesn’t help when one of his hands drifts down to grip your thigh softly, thumb stroking dangerously high on the inseam of your leggings.

Your thighs inch open a little, hoping you can pass it off as just getting comfortable, but Johnny seems to take no notice at all, his eyes glued to the television screen. Sometimes he makes a comment to Simon about the plot, and the other man will hum in agreement.

His other hand gets restless and slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt to rest against your belly, calloused fingertips trailing softly over smooth skin. Something must give you away—a sound or a movement—because his lips brush your ear as he whispers: “Okay?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. You’re okay. You’re dying, but it’s fine. His thumb finds the crease of your pelvis and traces along it. You’re so sticky between your thighs that you’re sure you could hear it if you shifted too much. Something about his distracted touches make you feel combustible, like C4 in his hands.

Johnny’s hand on your belly drifts up—you catch it with your hand.

“‘M not wearing a bra,” you mutter.

He snorts softly, breath ruffling your hair. “Trust me. I know,” he says. Then his thumb brushes the full softness of your breast. “Been thinking about it all night.”

“Do you two mind?” Simon says dryly, popping the soap bubble of arousal that Johnny had created around you both. You tense, shame in your belly. How horny did you have to be to be willing to let Johnny touch you on the same couch Simon was sitting on?

“Sorry,” you mutter.

Johnny nails him with a throw pillow in the chest, asking: “Do you mind?”

Simon’s head turns away from the telly, the pillow resting innocuously in his lap. He’s got the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, nearly black in the dim light. The television lights up the edge of him, throwing his features into sharp, harsh light.

“No,” he says at length. “Play wherever you want.”

The three of you turn back toward the movie, not a single set of eyes truly watching it. With Simon’s explicit permission, Johnny’s hand comes up to cup your breast softly, thumb stroking over your puckered nipple. A sound slips from your throat—you can’t help it.

“Pent up?” Johnny asks. You can hear the grin in his voice.

“Be nice to me,” you mumble.

Simon snorts softly at the other end of the sofa. Then Johnny pinches your nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, and the pleasant ache goes straight to your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

“Like it?” he asks.

You nod.

“Want more?” Your head nearly disconnects with the force of your nod. If he doesn’t touch you, you might go mad. Merciless, Johnny says: “Ask for it, and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow, mouth dry. “Johnny…”

He hums.

You turn your head a little, til you can see him out of the periphery of your vision. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask for him to touch you, to kiss you maybe. But instead something more honest comes: “Johnny—do whatever you want to me.”

Johnny groans, burying his face in your hair. “You hearin’ her, LT?”

“I hear.”

“Sweet as can fuckin’ be,” Johnny says, pressing the words to the soft skin beneath your ear. “Stay that sweet, no matter what I do, aye? Now watch the movie.”

You turn your eyes back to the television. It’s just a conglomeration of color and shapes that your eyes follow, but your brain doesn’t register a lick of what’s happening. All you can think about are Johnny’s hands, the way they cup your breasts. He touches you like you’re something precious, something friable and likely to come undone if he presses too firmly. He hums, a pleased little sound in the back of his throat and rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Your thoughts leak out of your ears the longer that he toys with your body. It’s hard to sit still with how bad you need something in your pussy—you’re so turned on that it hurts. Against your back you can feel the solid line of his erection and you wish that you were in a position to get your hands on him, to map the shape of him beneath his sweatpants.

When your mouth is dry from panting, your hands aching from the way your nails have bitten into your palms, Johnny finally smooths a hand down your tummy and cups your pussy over your leggings., your cunt a match for the burning heat of his palm.

“Stop me if you don’t want it,” he says, coming to slip his fingertips beneath the waistband of your panties.

“I want it—Johnny please—“

Simon shifts on the couch beside you both, and it draws your eyes to him, your face burning hot. He isn’t even looking at you, is instead staring at the television with a bored expression. At your movement, his eyes flicker to meet your own, and his mouth quirks at the edge. Against your will, your eyes shift down to where his cock would be visible—

His knuckles are pale where he clenches a hold of the throw pillow in his lap. He flexes his fingers when he catches you looking, working the circulation back into them, but it’s too late to hide. Simon isn’t unaffected by this—you’d swear that he was turned on too, and the thought makes the last little whisper in your head (the one that says this is nogoodbadwrong) quiet.

Johnny slips his hand into your underwear and finds you soaked, the fabric sodden where it drags along the back of his fingers. His cock twitches against your back.

“Fuck, y’re wet,” he groans. “Just from having your tits played with?”

“It counts as foreplay for a reason.”

Johnny laughs, breath brushing your temple. His fingers sink into your folds before you can say anything else, stroking deep along the length of your sex which is so tender it feels like a blissful bruise. Your hips jerk upward into the touch, and his fingertips nearly slip inside you. Instead he tempers his movements, careful to follow along with the motion of your hips to keep from giving you any more stimulation than he’s ready to.

“Easy,” he breathes. “Relax—just let me play with you.”

I’ve had enough playing, you think to yourself, eyes rolling. But you work to loosen your death grip on the blankets around you, work to relax your hips until they rest back against Johnny’s cock again.

He plays with you like this: the lightest brush of his fingertips along your vulva, spreading your wetness all over you. Sometimes his thumb will find your clit and stroke over it, but more often than not he avoids it altogether, content to play with the rest of your pussy, to coax more slick from it until his every touch is audible over the sound of the television.

Simon must surely hear it. The thought makes you clench around nothing, an unhappy sound rising up in the back of your throat.

Eventually, something happens to you—something breaks in you, maybe. You go soft and pliant against him, your hips still even when he slips two fingers inside you easy as anything, stroking along your walls as best as he can from this angle. Your noises are louder, too, like the muffler dampening them has rusted and worn away. When he sinks inside you, you let out a groan that has Johnny laughing softly against you.

“Oh, she’s hungry, isn’t she? You’ve been starvin’ her, haven’t you?”

He’s talking about your pussy. Jesus.

“Haven’t,” you pant. “Not on purpose, I—“

Johnny just hushes you softly. “It’s alright. Bet you need it so bad, it hurts, don’t you?”

You nod against his chest, tears filling your eyes, this foggy headspace amplifying your own emotions like an echo chamber.

“I’ll make it all better,” Johnny promises. He slips his fingers free from you and drags the burning, wet warmth of them up over your clit.

Just a few firm circles, and you’re climbing that peak, the cord in your belly drawn tighter and tighter until it snaps and sends you free falling, your back arching against Johnny’s chest. Frantic, you reach down and grip his wrist, urging his fingers lower until they slip back inside you, filling you up just right as you clench and spasm around them. The meaty part of his palm rubs against your clit and it’s enough to make you cum again before you’ve properly finished the first time, a choked gasp born and dying in your mouth as he fucks you through it with his fingers.

Your body goes limp against him. This, this is what you needed.

Awareness filters back, your fingers cramping with the strength you use to grip Johnny’s wrist. You let him go, muttering a sorry. You admit: “It feels better to cum when there’s something inside me.”

“I’ll remember that,” he says, voice rough. He nuzzles against your temple. Carefully, he withdraws his hand from inside your panties and holds it up to the light; he is slick all over from palm to fingertip. Fuzzy headspace gone, you have plenty of room inside now for embarrassment, your face warming as you bury it in your hands. “Jesus, make me still. You made a mess of me. Who gets them?”

“Who—? Gets what?”

He wiggles his fingers. You pull a face.

“Don’t like the taste of yourself?” Johnny asks mildly.

“Never tried it I guess,” you admit. Is that a silly thing? That you’ve never tasted your own cum? You wish you hadn’t admitted it, anxious about looking like a prude (which you are anything but, thanks. See the casual sex with your married roommate for more information) but Johnny just brushes over it like it’s nothing.

“Would you like to?” Johnny asks. It’s on the tip of your tongue to say no, but at the last moment you decide what the hell. You open your mouth, and obligingly, Johnny feeds his first two fingers past your lips to let them rest on your tongue. It doesn’t really taste like anything—clean, a hint of musk. Feminine. Not at all what you had expected. You take Johnny’s wrist when he goes to pull away and lick his palm clean, relishing in his stuttered breath. “Converted you, didn’t I?”

“I think I converted myself, thanks.” Speaking of thanks—you toss the blanket off of you both and slip down to the floor at Johnny’s feet, turning around to rest your hands gently on his knees, hyper aware of his bad thigh. Johnny’s cock stretches his sweatpants obscenely, the fabric darkened around the head from how much he had been leaking pressed against your back. “Let me return the favor.”

“It’s not about being reciprocal,” Johnny says smoothly.

“Big word, Johnny,” Simon says. It makes you jolt. You had nearly forgotten that he was there—he is so quiet and still, unmoving on the other end of the sofa. God, he had watched you lick Johnny’s hand clean. The thought makes your face flush with warmth, though he seems cool and calm as anything, not repulsed like you might have expected.

“I know a few, aye,” Johnny says, eyes rolling. He admits to you: “Math is my strong suit.”

“Well, subtract your pants.”

Johnny guffaws. It takes him work, wincing as pressure is placed on his bad thigh, but eventually he is able to draw his cock free, and fuck, what a cock it is. He’s uncut, thick. Just looking at him, you can tell that the stretch of him inside you would be blissful. It’s almost enough to have you aching again between the legs.

You reach out and then hesitate. “Can I?”

“‘course you can,” he says. “Don’t take this as any representation of my stamina, I’ll have you know—“

“Tighter.”

You both glance towards Simon. He’s loosened his grip on the throw pillow, though it still rests in his lap. He’s abandoned any facade of watching the television and has angled his body towards you where your hand looks downright dainty wrapped around Johnny’s cock.

“What?” you ask him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He wets his lips and says: “Johnny likes a firm grip.”

Your hand tightens, reflexively responding to the instruction, and Johnny groans above you. Precum leaks from the head, dripping down over your knuckles.

“That’s it,” Simon says softly. “Good. Go ahead.”

Maybe that ache between your legs wasn’t as gone as you had thought. Grip firm, you give Johnny a single, slick stroke from head to base, and it has his head lolling back against the couch cushions, his groan echoing around the apartment.

“Don’t team up against me,” Johnny breathes. “Please, I already don’t stand a chance.”

“Twist on the upstroke, if your wrist can manage it,” Simon says, eyes glittering as he watches your hand work over his husband. “Just like that—keep doing just that and—”

Johnny sucks in a breath, wrenching the hem of his t-shirt up just as his cock bursts, pale seed splattering his tanned abs as his face twists with pleasure, eyes screwed tightly shut. His hips jerk upward on instinct until he hisses out a pained breath, and Simon shifts to reach out and place his broad palm over Johnny’s bare sternum, urging him into stillness as you work every last bit of cum from his cock.

“Jesus,” he groans, palming at his eyes when you have finished.

“Your turn,” you tease, holding up two sticky fingers to Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny laughs. He takes your wrist—guides it towards Simon.

You expect Simon to refuse—not because of Johnny’s cum, but because of your fingers. Simon looks like he thinks about refusing, his eyes careful as he looks over your hand and then your face, examining the slope of your brows, the raised corners of your mouth even as it likely slips into an anxious frown. He takes your wrist gently and brings your fingers to his mouth. His tongue is burning hot where it laps between your fingers.

You stare, wide-eyed.

Simon doesn’t stop until your hand is clean.

#ghoap x reader #harmless fun

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hemipenal-system · 3 months ago

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cute little abandoned fursuit that seems like it’s in really good condition for having just been left outside. you take it and get it all cleaned up and put it on and take some pictures, and it’s really nice.

the problem is when you go to take it off you can’t. the zipper is just gone and there isn’t a split between the head and the body anymore, and then the eyes flick closed, leaving you in darkness.

something wet squelches against your ear. wet, and warm.

it leaves a little trail of slime as it curls over the top of your ear and up your earlobe before pressing in. you try to yank the head off but the suit won’t even let you move your arms.

there’s another one on your other ear, wriggling and squirming into your ear canal before they both idly start to thrust in and out, each deep plunge coating your ear in whatever hot liquid they’re secreting.

there’s a firm pressure between your legs. another one, but wide, so wide it spreads your thighs as it grinds up into you before changing tactics and curling upward before dipping through your waistband. it teases your surprisingly needy hole for all too long before plunging in all at once, and when you whimper involuntarily, another one shoots down your mouth and into your throat so fast you can’t stop it.

there’s a different moan, and it takes you a minute to realize it’s the suit itself. you’re moving now, forced to walk as she crosses the house, going to your bedroom.

when she lays down on the bed, a seam splits open between her legs, and when she starts rubbing it you feel it like it’s your own, whining in tandem as your hips buck upwards together

you have no idea how long she keeps you there inside herself, trapped in the pitch black with her tendrils ravaging your ears, throat, and ass, but you both cum so many times you lose count, and she fills you every time until you eventually pass out

you wake up tucked into your bed with a lipstick mark on one cheek and a pawprint on your hand. the fursuit is nowhere to be seen

#furryposting

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lordprettyflackotara · 1 month ago

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heroin kiss || kylo ren

‘& now i’m feenin’ for ya, cravin’ for ya, heroin kiss’

sum: after being captured, kylo ren is determined to extract what he wants from you. by any means necessary.

tw:smut, minors dni 18+. sorry poe. rough sex. inappropriate use of the force, cream pie, humiliation/degrading

a/n:kylo lives in my head rent free

You were fucked.

Completely and utterly fucked.

You struggled against the metal restraints that pinned you down to the metal table, blinding lights making your eyes water as they blinded you from above.

The room was unusually sterile, your nose burning from the sickening scent. You swallowed as you tried to move, your wrist and ankles restricted in the most uncomfortable manner. How long had it been since you had been brought here? You couldn’t recall, your mind drowning in fears of what was to come next.

You had been separated from the resistance, left behind in a desperate attempt for any of the fellow rebels to survive. Many were already dead. The scattered bodies on the ground below had proven that. You guessed they had presumed you dead, stranding you on whatever damned planet had resulted in your capture. You cursed yourself for not paying more attention on where you were landing.

Now you were trapped on the finalizer, misery and torture destined to come your way. You could feel the sound of people scrambling outside of your room, the metal doors sliding open. With wide eyes you stared at Kylo Ren, the leader of the Knights of Ren. The realization of how utterly fucked you were crashed over you, upon seeing his ominous mask stare down at you. Your body froze, staring at him as you awaited his next move. You were surprised to watch him take off his helmet, his face stern as he glared down at you. “For such a tiny little thing you put up quite a fight. How many of my men did you kill on your way in with that pathetic little blaster of yours? Three?” He questioned.

His amusement confused you, Kylo Ren being known for his ruthless wrath. You opted out of speaking, instead staring blankly. You knew this could end in various methods of torture. He could use the force to strangle you, cut off your limbs one by one with his light saber or-

“Enough with the various torture methods you’ve conjured up. They’re all absurdly boring and take absurd amounts of time,” Kylo said sternly, regaining your attention. Your eyebrows furrowed, causing him to snicker. “What? Did they forget about use of the force in your training? That pretty little mind of yours is all I need,” He explains plainly, as if you not knowing was utterly boring. Menacingly he walks beside you, his eyes never straying from your face.

He can read minds? What kind of left out training fuck shit is that?

This caused Kylo to snicker once more, his gloved hand grabbing your chin. He forced your lips to pucker out like a fish, your eyes widening in fear. Instinctively you struggle against the restraints, your bones clashing with the metal. “Such foul thoughts, I wonder if your lips are the same way. Let’s see,” He grins, his smile wicked and curled upwards in amusement. You can feel your mind becoming fuzzy as he steps into your mind, your body going limp as he explores your memories. You stand beside him in your own mind, watching every moment, from significant to minuscule, like a picture movie. Your lips are unmoving, but you’re screaming for him to stop, begging for him to wait.

Ever so achingly slow, he begins exploring each path of your mind. Your updated memories aren’t enough for him, the warlord intrigued and diving deeper. “Stop this at once! Get out!” You screech, your screams falling on deaf ears. Kylo’s unmoved by your demands, waving through the boring memories and landing on one that catches his eye. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to watch, your face twisting in disgust as you turn away. Kylo’s own face turns in confusion, his eyebrows raised as he watches the memories of you and Poe.

“Poe Dameron? That’s your type?” He questions. You can’t bear to watch the events of the past play out, your stomach churning as Kylo watches them. Every exchanged smile. Every training session. Every battle fought together. Kylo can feel the romantic feelings that pound in your heart at the sight of the pilots face. Every hug, then every kiss, every sexual encounter. Every plea you gave for him to fuck you harder. To choke you. To make you forget about the worries of existing. You cover your eyes, listening to the unforgettable sounds of Poe Dameron’s smooth voice. Kylo watches, puzzled. Your romantic entanglements did not intrigue him. They meant nothing to his search for helpful knowledge. But your reaction, your screams, your emotions. That did intrigue him. And so Kylo watched it all, watching you fall in love with the beloved pilot of the resistance. It was then the worst part was coming, that you wanted to curl up into a ball.

Poe Dameron was dedicated to the resistance more than anyone you had ever met. He knew his purpose for existing was to fight for what he deemed to be right. So much so, that he deemed a relationship with you a waste of energy and time. After all, what if you were to die? He’d never be a good pilot after that. He’d never be as good of a resource as the resistance needed him to be. So as ruthlessly and heartlessly as he could, he abandoned you. Every moment Kylo watched meant absolutely nothing to Poe Dameron, the pilot leaving you without a second thought. It was then Kylo left your mind, your head spinning as you both returned to a brutal reality. Your waterline was flooded with tears, your gaze focused on anywhere but Kylo’s face.

He stared down at you, releasing your face. “Torturing you isn’t going to get me what I need,” He said emotionlessly. You avoided his gaze, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. You hated how degraded you felt, humiliated by the warlord before you. With the flick of Kylo’s hand he used the force to undo your restraints, raising the table and forcing you onto your feet. You briefly stumbled, his gloved hand grabbing you and pushing you against the closest wall. His eyes bored down into yours, his touch harsh as he chose his next words carefully. “A factor you haven’t considered, is a fair exchange. I give you what you want more than anything else and you give me the same,” He says slowly. You swallow as you await his next words, your lips cracked as you slowly open them.

“W-What-”

“Don’t play coy with me. You want nothing more in this life than to feel loved. I can make that happen, you know I can. Then you’ll give me what I want in return,” Kylo says, glancing down at your lips. You shivered in fear and flusteredness as Kylo attempted to be gentle, shoving some stray hairs behind your ear. “I can read your mind, you know. I can see right through you. I can see your fears, your memories. But most importantly, I can see your filthy desires,” He whispered, leaning in close to your ear. You freeze as he smirks, relishing in the feeling of your fear.

“Little solider girl wants nothing more in this life than be ruthlessly fucked, is that right? To be treated like a worthless whore?” Kylo purrs, his breath hot against your skin. His gloved hand finds its place on your neck, holding you steady. “Submit to me. Give in,” He growls. He can feel his own desires washing over him, his body fizzling in anticipation. “Just say the word and i’ll make you feel so good, you’ll forget Poe Dameron ever existed,” Kylo continues. He knows what word you want to say. He can see how badly you want him. It’s evident in not only your flushed face, but your loud and filthy mind.

“Please.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, your heart pounding. Kylo knows you haven’t been with anyone since Poe, your guarded heart not allowing it. He smirks as he uses the force to undress you, unmoving as the cold air creates goosebumps across your skin. Once you’re fully exposed he takes a step back, admiring your perky nipples and exposed form. You feel your face flush red. To you, sex is an intimate experience meant to be solely a love filled affair. Yet the primal gleam in Kylo’s eyes makes you feel different, your core throbbing with a different kind of desire. You were programmed to despise Kylo Ren and the ground he walks on. To, in any situation, blast him until he doesn’t move.

Yet you stand before him naked, desperate to be touched. Kylo takes a step back, soaking in your form. He forces you to sit on the ledge of the window, using the force to spread your legs. “Go on, amuse me. Touch yourself for me,” He orders, staring down at you like you’re a piece of meat. You gulp nervously as you lick the pads of your index and middle finger, before bringing them to your core. Kylo refrains from smirking at this action, your cunt glistening in the relentless bright lights. You begin to sheepishly circle your neglected clit, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with the man before you. Your cunt is so wet it takes everything in Kylo to not pick you up and use you as a cocksleeve. Instead he wants to savor this, soaking in the sight of a rebel humiliating herself for his amusement.

You go to dip your fingers into your entrance but Kylo stops you. “I didn’t say to do that. Keep circling that pretty little clit of yours,” He orders. The sternness in his voice sends a chill down your spine, your fingers slowly circling your sensitive bud. Abruptly Kylo rewards your obedience, the feeling of two thick fingers plunging into your cunt. Kylo himself is still feet away, watching as he uses the force to finger fuck you. You can feel the fingers curling upwards, stretching you out while brushing against your g spot. “O-Oh fuck, Kylo-” You babble, choking on your own words. The sight of seeing nothing there, while Kylo cockily watches, only makes your core throb much more intensively. “Does that feel good? Falling apart before me for my entertainment?” Kylo ask, tilting his head to the side mockingly. He watches your hips rut into nothing, sinful whimpers escaping your lips.

This is all you should really want. Is to feel humiliated and to feel good from doing so. Kylo knows this what you want, which is why your next statement puzzles him.

“P-Please, cmere, wanna feel you-” You whine, barely able to keep up with the feeling of being finger fucked into oblivion. Kylo’s hardened expression falters for a moment, before he regains it. He ignores the way a spark ignited within him, his feet carrying him to you. He picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he sets you on the metal table. Hesitantly he leans in, his gloved hand cupping your face. He can feel your breath hitch as he finally leans in, placing his lips against yours. This kiss feels different. Far different than any you had shared with Poe. You know this. Kylo knows this. You both want to chop it up to the heat of the moment. Two ruthless fighters being touch starved. Truthfully, maybe that’s all it was. But you knew better, your mind swirling as you passionately struggled to keep up with his eager lips.

He needed you, just as bad as you needed him.

Kylo allowed himself to give in, undoing his pants and cupping your breast. His gloved hands explored your body, worshipping each inch of your skin. No lover had ever made him feel so alive before, his cock brushing against your entrance. You struggled to keep up with the desperation that was behind his kisses as you grabbed his cock, desperately guiding it into of you. Both of you let out a groan in unison as he slowly slid inside of you, your walls clinging to him. You moaned into his mouth, his gloved hand finding its way to your throat. He squeezed your airway, watching your mouth drop into the shape of an O as he bottomed out inside of you. Kylo snickered as he read your thoughts, grinning in sick satisfaction.

“Im that much bigger than him?”

He moaned as your walls fluttered around him, the sound heavenly to your ears. You stared in the eyes of your enemy, sinful noises escaping your lips as he began to move his hips. “You like this? Hmm? Being used by your enemy for nothing more than my pleasure?” Kylo asked, his voice deeper than normal as he rutted into you. You grabbed his wrist for support, struggling to keep up as he fucked you properly. His gloved hands found their way to your ass, your legs wrapping around his waist as he picked you up as if you weighed nothing. You couldn’t control your strangled moans as he used you like a fuck toy, your hands grabbing his shoulders.

“A filthy cock sleeve, falling apart on my cock. You’re a worthless whore, aren’t you rebel scum?” Kylo seethed, fucking into you ruthlessly. All of his anger and frustrations were taken out on your poor cunt, your body going limp as you let him use you as he pleased. “Please don’t stop, fuck fuck fuck,” You whined, his cock abusing your g spot. You felt a knot form in your stomach, your orgasm threatening to come sooner than planned. Kylo sensed this, using the force to grab your face and force you look at him. “Not yet, not fuckin yet you pathetic whore,” Kylo snarled. Your body craved for release, your nails digging into his suit. “Feels so good,” You panted, your heart pounding in your chest. Kylo’s thrust never let up, his stamina one you couldn’t have imagined. Your vision grew more dazed, your body growing limp.

“I bet it does,” He smirked, feeling your walls clench around him. He slammed your body into a nearby wall, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Go on, cum for me. Cum on my fuckin cock like the good little cock sleeve you are,” Kylo ordered. Your body came on command, euphoria washing over you as your legs trembled. Your walls spasmed around his shaft, his cock filling your womb to the brim with his cum as he released. The two of you were panting messes, the warlord burying his face in the crook of your neck. It’s then you realize that you had no information Kylo wanted, none at all. You weren’t a high ranking general or pilot. You were nothing but an insignificant soldier knowing nothing beyond the bare minimum. Kylo knew this as well, sensing you had caught on. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

As gentle as he could muster he pulled you against his chest, stroking your back.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and i’ll send you home.”

Those words were the last thing you heard, before falling into a deep and enticing sleep.

#kylo ren x you #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #ben solo #ben solo smut #ben solo x reader #ben solo x oc #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x oc #kylo ren x rey #star wars #star wars smut

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ilsanslut · 1 year ago

Text

꒷♡꒷ STUCK!

♰ featuring: nagi seishiro + shidou ryusei (separate) [blue lock]

♰ note: thank you all so much for supporting my last work as much as you did. it really means so much to me that people genuinely enjoy my writing and my content! now, as my second-ever work, i would appreciate it greatly if you would continue to support my work by reading, liking, and reblogging! also, I tried to make their sections as even as possible, but i'm a ryusei simp so uhhh enjoy!

sypnosis: in which you find yourself stuck in a rather precarious position and your boyfriend decides to "help" you. not without proper payment first, though. wc: 3.4k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. SMUT. fem/fem-bodied reader. stuckage. shidou is a warning on his own. accidental choki abuse (nagi). dry humping. degradation. unprotected sex. rough sex. creampie/breeding. spanking. name-calling/dirty talk (ryusei). ꒷꒦

NAGI SEISHIRO.

It was a normal weekend, unlike any other. It was just before noon, and you were cleaning your and Seishiro’s shared apartment while he was at the gym with Reo. You were diligently working to remove the accumulated dust from your wooden dresser with a disinfectant wipe that had a coconut scent when, all of a sudden, your hand bumped into something rather hard.

“Choki!!”

You shrieked, watching in horror as your boyfriend’s beloved potted cactus flew off of the dresser and knocked into the wall behind it. Everything moved in slow motion, and you could only gawk in horror as the pot spun once, twice, and then tumbled behind the dresser. You grimaced inwardly, awaiting the sound of shattering ceramics and the dull shuffling of displaced dirt, but it never came. Instead, the sound of the pot sliding down the wall and "gracefully" hitting the floor was heard instead.

With baited breath, you grabbed your phone, turning it to flashlight mode. You used it as a visual aid as you peered behind the dresser to assess the damage, sighing with relief when you saw Choki, Seishiro’s child, lying almost undisturbed between the wall and the backboard of the dresser.

Now here comes the difficult part, moving the dresser.

Kicking off your fuzzy house slippers to give yourself some traction, you grabbed the back end of one side and mustered all of your strength to shove the heavy thing out of the way—slowly, of course. Choki’s life was at stake here. However, you were only able to move the heavy thing out of the way just enough so that you could slip part of your body inside to reach for the plant. It was still a very tight fit.

Getting on your knees, you maneuvered between the tiny space you created, squeezing your arms, shoulders, and ribcage between them until the tension finally gave way at your waist. Breathing out in relief, your fingertips finally managed to grace the pot’s edge, pulling it into your grasp.

“Got . . . cha . . !”

You tried to shuffle backward, but you couldn’t. Attempting once more, you would come to realize that the dresser and the wall had some sort of death grip on your hips, rooting you in place. You were stuck. Trapped. And Nagi wouldn’t be home for another 30 minu—

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

You breathed, overjoyed at your boyfriend’s sudden voice. He always had the habit of moving in complete silence, despite his massive size. You hadn’t even heard him come home.

“Sei, oh, thank god! C-Can you pull me out? I think I’m stuck!”

You could barely make out the sound of his soft footsteps padding against the wooden floor as he made his way over to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he stood behind you, yet he made no effort to save you just yet.

“How did you even manage to do something like this?”

His confused tone held an unamused lilt, one that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I was cleaning the dresser, and I accidentally knocked Choki over. They’re fine! B-But I can’t get out . . .”

Still nothing.

Was he mad? Disappointed? Since you could not see him, you could not tell. You were aware, though, that his gaze was "burning" into you. You shifted, partially in discomfort, as you made a point to wiggle your hips so that he could focus on the task at hand. As a result, you could hear him drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth. Before you could ask him what he was doing, you felt him kneel behind you. His two strong hands came into contact with the exposed skin around your hips, where your shirt was rising. He did not pull, though. The opposite happened; you felt him pressing against you, his bulge delightfully nestling against your folds through your thin pajama shorts.

“Seishiro?!”

He effectively silenced your confused warble in exchange for a surprised squeal when his open palm placed a firm smack on one of your cheeks. All the while, he shamelessly ground himself against your core, stating, “That was for Choki." You swore that you could hear the pout in his voice when he spoke.

“Removing you would be a hassle. Besides, I’m tired.”

B-But what about me?!

You wanted to protest, however, you refrained. You felt his lithe fingers pinch the fabric just over your clit as he pulled it to the side, resting it against your ass and exposing your pretty folds to his prying eyes. You heard his hands rustling with his sweatpants and boxers before you felt him tapping the pretty pink-flushed tip of his cock, which you loved so much, against your sensitive bud causing you to keen and your toes to curl.

“Wish you could see how pretty you look right now.” He mumbled, teasingly pressing the head of his cock against your entrance a few times, but never pushing in fully.

“I-If you got me out, Sei, then maybe I could . .” Your voice was unsteady as your anticipation began to build in the form of your puffy folds beginning to leak for him, the lewd sounds of it squelching around his tip echoing in your quiet room.

He answered you with silence and actions rather than with words. In one swift motion, he pushed entirely into you, and without waiting for you to adjust, he began to thrust his hips into you at a steady pace. You clenched around him, nails scratching against the backboard of the dresser, the wall, the floor—anything to brace yourself from your boyfriend’s fervent pace. Once he got started, he wouldn’t stop until he spilled entirely inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum.

“S-Sei, it’s too much!” You mewled, yet your body writhed with pleasure. You always said this, and yet, he knew you could take it. You've done it many times before. That’s why he reached further into the space you had created to bunch up the back of your his shirt and used it as leverage as though he were pulling your hair to pummel into you faster and deeper. Your ass rhythmically pounded on his pelvis, sending a lewd ringing through your own ears as it echoed off the bedroom walls. Something about this precarious situation you were in mixed with the feeling of Seishiro’s cock hitting those sweet spots inside of you, enthralled you more than usual. You were close and he could feel it.

“Gonna cum f’me, already?” He grunted as his other hands squeezed your hip, their blunt nails digging into your flesh. His moans were heavenly, a sound you longed to hear, as your walls fluttered around him. The hand that was on your hip pressed itself against the edge of the dresser, shoving it effortlessly to the side and thus freeing you from your confines. Although he appeared so unsuspecting, Seishiro’s strength, when he decided to use it, was frightening. Your lower half fell to the ground, your breasts and cheek smushing against the wooden floors as you felt his soft fingertips rubbing fast, furious circles around your clit.

“Oh my god, S-Sei, I-I’m gonna—”

“C’mon, make a mess for me, pretty.”

You did exactly that, creaming delightfully around his cock while mewing in ecstasy. Before long, you could feel Sei's hot seed bursting inside of you and filling up your pretty pussy to the brim, as well as his hips stuttering against you. Both of you were panting as he pulled out of you, your releases dribbling out of you and pooling beneath you onto the floor.

You finally managed to get off your sore knees and elbows as you turned to face your lover with trembling limbs. It was at this point that you noticed Seishiro's eyes, which were burning with something fierce and unknown, were boring into your own. His eyes resembled that hungry expression he would have when his ego started to rule him on the field.

“Let’s do it again, Y/N. On the bed this time.”

God, he was going to be the death of you someday.

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

You had a rather eventful day. Starting off leisurely in the morning, you and your boyfriend Ryusei enjoyed a pleasant brunch together before deciding to head out to the beach that day. You had to pick a spot with some privacy because Ryusei insisted he was only there to “freshen up his tan”, which required him to be in the nude, while you were there to enjoy his prescene, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, and the sensation of sand between your toes. Only a short while ago, the two of you finally arrived home. Ryusei was currently taking his own shower, as you had already finished yours.

Relaxing on the couch in nothing more than an oversized shirt and your panties, you had decided to turn on some Netflix with the intention of finding either a good or a fun-bad horror flick to watch, when all of a sudden, the slippery lotion residue on your hands caused the remote to slip from your grasp and tumble onto the floor and skid beneath the coffee table. You groaned, head tossing back with exasperation, as this minor inconvenience was nearly enough to ruin your entire night and make you not even want to watch a movie anymore. Nonetheless, you sulked off the couch and sank to your knees, searching for the offending culprit beneath the coffee table. Somehow, it had managed to slide to the other side of the room, mocking you as it lay motionless between the walkway in the middle of the coffee table and the television. Any normal person would’ve simply gotten up and walked around the table to retrieve it, however, you were not like most people. I mean, look at your taste in men, for starters. Not to mention, you’re incredibly stubborn.

Instead, you crept beneath the table's glass top and between the second shelf, stretching your slender fingers as far as they could reach until they touched the black exterior of the remote. However, it was a little too far away for you to grasp, and your touch, combined with your wooden floors, only served to push it further away from you. You swore, glaring at the thing as though it had just offended your loved one, huffing in defeat as you decided to rise and walk to the remote.

But you couldn’t.

Your brow furrowed in perplexity as you placed one palm flat on the ground and the other on the surface beneath you, attempting but failing to push yourself back. You were wedged between the table's glass top and bottom shelves, flat on your chest. The more you wiggled, the further you seemed to wedge yourself in between the two surfaces that held you taut.

You stopped, dumbfounded. As much as you dreaded calling Ryusei for help because you knew he would taunt you endlessly instead of helping you . . . you did not have many other options.

“Ah, Ryu!!” Your voice carried through the hallways, hoping that he was out of the shower to hear you yell.

“. . . Yeah, babe?”

His voice made your heart lurch in your chest. You were already debating whether you should just say nevermind and try to wiggle out on your own, or put your pride aside and ask for his assistance. In the end, the latter would be victorious.

“Could . . . Could you come here for a second? . . . Please.” Your plea was quiet, your cheeks already burning with shame as you awaited your impending doom.

You raised your gaze towards the master bedroom, where he was currently. How cruel fate was to put you in a position where you would be forced to watch him approach. Each second felt like an eternity until you heard the soft padding of Shidou's feet leaving the carpeted bedroom to shuffle along the wooden floors, only to abruptly pause.

Sheepishly, you peeked up at him through your lashes to where he stood, chest bare, droplets of water dripping from his unstyled hair and body, a towel that he used for his hair wrapped around his shoulders, and a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. His face was expressionless, his fuchsia oculars taking in the scene before them in silence. Your shy, embarrassed gaze, the position of you between the coffee table, and the cursed remote only inches away from his own feet.

“—You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

How you wished you were facing the other way to avoid seeing the way that maniacal grin that nearly resembled the Joker's formed on his face and how his cat-like eyes narrowed at you in amusement at your misfortune.

“ . . Yes.”

He barked out a laugh at you, his head tossed back in sheer, unabashed mania, much to your chagrin. Even though you knew this would happen, your cheeks couldn’t help but burn with frustration and shame. “I know, very funny. Now, could you help me out here, please? My knees are getting sore.”

Despite your whines, his mockery would continue, his large hands grasping both ends of the towel that rested on his shoulders as he waltzed over to you leisurely. “Hmm, I dunno, babe~.” He continued walking until he crouched right before you, his legs spread wide enough for you to see that he was already semi-hard beneath the fabric. Of course, he would be aroused by your misfortune. Tearing your gaze away from his manhood, which was only inches away from your face, you peered up at him only to see him grinning mercilessly down at you with mischief twinkling in his eye. “I gotta admit, I like this view of you. How’d ya know doggy was my favorite position~?”

Probably because you’ve put me in it multiple times before, asshole. You wouldn’t say that, though. You didn’t want to prolong your torment any further.

“Ryuseii.” You whined, mustering your best pitiful glance in an attempt to draw even an ounce of sympathy from your demon of a lover. “Please?” You tried with a pout.

You couldn’t tell if your attempt worked, however, with the way Ryusei��s feral grin would reduce to a playful smirk, you figured that you have gotten through to him. He raised his hand, patting your head twice and making sure to tousle your hair while he was at it. “I’ll see what I can do, cutie.”

He made a move to rise to his feet but paused mid-squat, “No promises, though.”

You waited until he was out of your view to roll your eyes at him, hands bracing themselves against the floor as you awaited to be freed from this nightmare. Ryusei sank to his knees behind you, humming aloud as though he were trying to make a big play out of figuring out how to get you out—or how you got there to begin with. His slender digits grasped at your waist, tugging halfheartedly. You knew better than anyone that Ryusei was capable of hoisting you into the air and tossing you around as though you were nothing. That being said, it was beyond obvious to you that he was obviously making a poor attempt on purpose.

“Wow, I dunno, Y/N. You see pre-tty wedged in here . . Maybe this’ll help.”

You had no idea when he had the opportunity to do it, but he had dropped his towel somewhere along the way, and you could feel him rubbing his semi-hard on against your panty-clad ass and making your clothed folds the focal point of attack.

“Ryusei—!” In frustration and arousal, you laboriously dragged out the syllables of his name. As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you knew that something like this was coming.

“Mm, yeah, keep saying my name just like that, baby.” He sighed blissfully, shamelessly now humping himself onto you until he was full mast, his hardened shaft twitching excitedly between your pillowy ass cheeks while his blushed tip beaded with pre. “Hah, shit, that’s it. ‘Could cum right now, all over ya’. You want that, angel? Want me to paint this pretty ass—” He paused, raising his palm high into the air before bringing it down unforgivingly against your rear to accentuate his point. “Look at that. Ya want me to paint this pretty ass with my nut, hm?”

"Yes, please, Ryu . . ?" You said against your better judgment as your thighs pressed against one another and your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

He chuckled throatily, already pulling your panties down your plump thighs until they rested on the backs of your knees. He lined himself up with your already drooling cunt, not wasting any time to push into you with one single thrust. He bottomed out inside of you, drawing all of the breath from your lungs. His pelvis pressed flush against you, blunt nails biting into the flesh of your hips and ass as he greedily pulled you against him. It was almost as if he were trying to force himself further into you than he already could. You whimpered beneath your breath, clenching around his cock as you felt his balls pulsing against your sensitive clit. He had only just entered you, and already he was about to cum.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy.” He snarled through clenched teeth, picking up his pace. “Grippin’ me so tight, suckin’ me in so good, ngh—s-so desperate to be stuffed with a cock.”

His thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but he did everything he could to keep bullying his cock into you, drool dribbling over his parted lips. It should be illegal for you to feel this good. It wasn't fair. He wanted to ravish you—take his time turning your cunt into his personal little pocket pussy, his perfect fucktoy, already premolded to the shape of his dick. But damn, he was about to bust, and you were approaching your climax too.

His pace grew relentless, barely giving you time to breathe or even think as he forced your hips to fuck back onto him, drawing a helpless gasp or delighted moan from your pretty lips with each impassioned thrust. You squirmed in his hold, your breath coming out in hot tufts as your end grew near.

“R-Ryu, baby, hah, mphf!!” You could barely get the words out as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “I-I’m close! M-My clit, please! I c-can’t reach it; touch me, plea—”

“No.”

His response was curt—simple, snarled out in what could only be described as a ferocious growl. His movements grew sloppier, his hips faltering in their pace as his cock throbbed heartily inside of you, ready to burst. “You cum on my, ngh, fuckin’ cock or not at all. Ya hear me, y’little cock-lovin’ slut?”

You whined in protest, to which the forward brought his palm down heavily on your already reddening cheeks from just his grip on you alone. If he could’ve reached you, he would’ve had a vice grip on your hair by now. “Answer me, bitch.” He spat with false malice, “Y’gunna cream around my cock? Make this fat dick a mess, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Came your loud, unabashed chorus of unfiltered, unadulterated moans of sheer bliss.

Neither of you could hold back anymore. Ryusei spilled rope after rope of his hot, sticky seed into your abused cunt while your pretty folds creamed around his shaft in a way that could only be described as tantalizing. Silence, aside from both of your spent keens and blissed panting, filled the air around you. Once he was certain you were plugged full with his cum, Ryusei effortlessly snatched your body from between the coffee table, causing your exhausted body to collapse into his lap. As exhausted as he was, he made sure to cup your head so that it didn’t hit the ground too hard. He was always the sweetest when his post-nut clarity hit him. He took in your expression, noticing that your eyes were half-lidded and glassy with fat tears spilling from your waterline; your drool-covered lips were plump, red, and raw with the faintest of indentations along them from your pearly teeth; and your body convulsed and twitched ever so slightly from the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Not to mention the utterly fucked-out and euphoric look on your face.

. . . Ah, shit. He was hard again.

“Still with me, princess? . . Good. Come suck this cock clean and let me ruin that pretty face of yours even more~.♡”

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