#want to be free (burn baby burn) want to be free (burn baby burn) it will last forever (burn baby burn) eternally (disco inferno) *sobbing*

[gojosconsort]

hii i love ur work can you please write smth about mean!satoru fucking his virgin gf?

𓂃୨ৎ mdni. virginity loss, degradation, manhandling, spanking, tears, fingering, overstimulation, aftercare

you’re curled on the couch, drowning in satoru’s oversized hoodie, legs tucked under you, heart skittering with nerves. you’ve been waiting all night, stomach twisting since he texted this morning—tonight’s the night, baby. be ready. every sound’s had you jumping, expecting him, and now you’re half-dozing, anxiety and anticipation tangling in your chest. the door clicks open, and he’s there, footsteps deliberate, looming over you, blue eyes sharp and gleaming.

“sleeping without me?” he teases, voice low, a smirk tugging at his lips as he crouches down, brushing a strand of hair from your flushed face. you open your mouth to stammer something about waiting, how you’ve been a nervous wreck, but he’s already pulling you up, hands firm on your wrists, tugging you toward the bedroom with a purpose that makes your pulse race. “no more waiting,” he says, glancing back, his grin all teeth. “we said tonight, and you’re mine.”

you stumble after him, heart thudding, expecting soft kisses, maybe a slow buildup like in your daydreams. but satoru doesn’t do slow—not now. he pushes you onto the bed, silk sheets cool against your skin as the hoodie rides up, baring your thighs. “s-satoru, hold on—” you start, but he’s on you, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, his grip tight, unyielding.

“hold on?” he leans close ‘til his breath grazes your ear. “you’ve been driving me crazy for months, baby, looking all sweet and untouchable. time’s up.” his words sting, but there’s heat in them, a hunger that makes your core clench, your panties already damp. he notices, eyes flicking down, and his smirk widens. “knew you’d want this,” he murmurs, free hand slipping under the hoodie, finding you soaked through the thin fabric.

you gasp as his fingers press against you, circling slow, teasing, not enough to satisfy. “please,” you whimper, hips bucking, and he chuckles, pulling back to strip off his shirt, jeans dropping to reveal his cock—hard, thick, daunting. your eyes widen, doubt creeping in, but he’s already spreading your thighs, slapping the inside of one lightly, the sting sparking heat through you. “don’t tense up now,” he says, voice sharp but threaded with want. “you’re taking me tonight.”

he doesn’t ease you into it—two fingers plunge deep, stretching you, curling fast, and you cry out, the burn blending into pleasure too quick to process. “so tight,” he groans, eyes half-lidded, clearly savoring it, his fingers pumping harder, thumb grazing your clit. “fuck, i’ve been dreaming about this.” you’re trembling, overwhelmed, but he doesn’t stop, working you ‘til you’re dripping, body pliant under him.

“satoru,” you plead, voice shaking, and he leans down, kissing you hard, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your sounds. “no more teasing,” he mutters against your lips, pulling his fingers out, slick and glistening. he lines himself up, the head of his cock nudging your entrance, and you tense, nervous. “relax,” he orders, mean edge softening just a fraction as he strokes your thigh. “you’re gonna love it.”

he thrusts in one fluid motion, deep, filling you completely, and you scream, the stretch searing but tipping into something wild, something good. satoru groans, low and guttural, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to mark. “fuck,” he breathes, pausing just to feel you, his voice cracking with how good it is. “so perfect—shit, you’re squeezing me so tight.” he’s losing it, eyes locked on where you’re joined, clearly drunk on finally being inside you, his control fraying with every twitch of your walls around him.

he doesn’t wait—pulls out and slams back in, setting a ruthless pace, each thrust rocking you up the bed. “thought you could keep me waiting forever?” he taunts, yanking your hips higher, one hand fisting your hair to pull your head back. “you’re mine now.” it’s mean, possessive, but you’re moaning, thighs trembling, pleasure spiking higher than the pain. he spanks you once, sharp, grinning when you jolt and whimper, clearly enjoying how you respond.

“too much,” you sob, tears streaming, but it’s not—you’re close, body clenching, chasing it. satoru sees it, leans down, kissing a tear away, his thrusts never slowing. “you can take it,” he murmurs, softer now, but still commanding. “fuck, you feel so good.” he’s enthralled, groaning with every thrust, loving the heat, the tightness, the way you break under him. you come hard, shaking, crying, and he follows, spilling deep with a ragged moan, savoring every pulse.

he collapses beside you, pulling you close, gentle now. “you okay, baby?” he whispers, wiping your tears, kissing your sweaty forehead. he checks you over, rubbing your wrists, cleaning you up with a warm cloth, voice soft as he murmurs praises. “you did so well,” he says, wrapping you in his arms, stroking your hair ‘til you relax. “i’ve got you, always.”

[gossamyrrh]

❛ 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 ❜ ◞ toji fushiguro x reader x shiu kong

⤷ in which toji pays off his debt. . . cw. dubcon smut ♥︎ hehe… of course

letta’s note 🐰✉️: this is so self indulgent hhdfjj. dream scenario, i fear….

it’s toji’s fault, really, that things are like this.

with his tongue battling your own, his hand shoved past the band of your panties—and his friend, shiu, jerking off just across from you both on the sofa—the fact becomes painfully apparent.

“t-toji!” you moan into his mouth. “t-this is so awkward.”

“i know, doll. i know. but you gotta do this f’me, yeah? just this once…”

see, toji is what one would call…irresponsible. every time a paycheque comes in, he’s gambling half of it away, or using it to buy beer or scratch-offs. or something else he could easily fare without.

but, it’s a compulsion… something he can’t easily resist. that’s his excuse for it, anyway. that’s his excuse for this.

this, being, the consequence for one particularly idiotic wager—what was supposed to be a harmless bet with shiu. one that he was so confident he’d win.

“£100 if my horse wins.” shiu had bet, a smirk on his face as though he’d known what the outcome would be.

“your horse ain’t gonna win.” toji snorted. “bet my girl on it.”

but oh, how he’d been so wrong…

and now here you are: knees spread, panties pushed aside, whimpering as shiu eyes you hungrily—lazily pumping his cock as you squirm with discomfort.

toji can see the humiliation written across your face as he deftly works you open with his fingers—how your lips trembles and your eyes brim with tears.

which is what makes him coo, “he’ll only have to watch, sweetheart. that’s all. don’t worry.”

you nod, barely, swallowing down a sob and a moan that threatens to follow it.

but then shiu leans in, eyes molten. “yeah, i’ll watch. but i want her to look at me while you fuck her, toji. i wanna see her fall apart for you… while she knows i’m here.”

toji smirks. “you hear that, baby? gotta keep your eyes on him while i make this pretty pussy mine. think you can do that for me?”

you should say no.

you should tell them both to fuck off.

but as his fingers curl just right, and your hips jerk involuntarily, the only sound that leaves your lips is a soft, shameful: “y-yeah…”

your voice is barely a breath—fragile, trembling, but it’s consent, and that’s all toji needs—cares for.

“atta girl,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers out of you slow, purposefully sloppy, so your slick clings and strings between his knuckles. “shiu, you watchin’? look at how fuckin’ wet she is.”

“hard not to,” shiu drawls, his voice a shade deeper now, breath catching as his eyes drink in the sight. “she’s gorgeous like this. ruined and embarrassed.”

your thighs twitch.

toji shifts, grabbing your chin and forcing your face to turn fully toward shiu. “keep those pretty eyes on him,” he says, mouth brushing your jaw. “no hiding. not tonight.”

it’s humiliating—your skin burns under shiu’s gaze—but your cunt clenches around nothing, aching for more—for anything toji’ll give you.

and he knows it.

“bet you’re fuckin’ throbbin’ right now,” he mutters into your ear, pushing his sweats down just enough to free his cock—thick, heavy, already leaking. “ain’t you, doll?”

you nod, lips parted, panting softly. “y-yeah…”

“yeah,” he echoes, one hand gripping your hip as he lines himself up. “could’ve just paid shiu his fuckin’ hundred… but no, i had to be a cocky bastard.”

his tip presses against your entrance—teasing, spreading you open just enough to make your breath hitch.

“you mad at me?” he asks, voice a smirk, but his eyes search yours, genuine for just a flash.

you don’t answer. you can’t. not when he pushes in, inch by thick inch, stretching you open slow enough to make you whimper, to make your nails dig into his shoulders.

“goddamn,” toji growls, burying himself to the hilt. “you’re always so fuckin’ tight, baby. like this pussy knows it’s mine.”

a filthy sound escapes your lips—half-moan, half-sob—and your eyes flutter, only for his hand to snap to your jaw.

“eyes on him,” he reminds you, thrusting once, hard, making you cry out.

shiu groans across from you, pumping himself faster now, lips parted and gaze locked to the point where your bodies meet. “she’s fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “you’re a lucky bastard, toji.”

“damn right i am,” toji grunts, hips snapping into you with wet, brutal rhythm. “and she’s gonna cum just like this—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, watching you stroke your cock.”

your body trembles in his grip, shame and pleasure tangling into something dark and addictive. every roll of his hips pushes you closer to the edge. and with shiu’s gaze locked on yours, hungry and possessive, you feel like you’re being devoured from both sides.

and maybe… maybe you like it.

you try to breathe, to think, to hold on to something, anything, but toji’s pace is relentless. every thrust hits deep, sharp and sure, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the room like a filthy rhythm. you’re spread wide on his lap, trembling, thighs twitching as his cock drags against every aching spot inside you.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, voice rough and strained. “you feel that? how tight you’re squeezin’ me?”

you nod helplessly, mouth open, a choked moan slipping out.

“tell him,” toji growls, thrusting deep enough to knock the breath out of you. “tell shiu how good i fuck you.”

your gaze, glassy and glazed, flicks to shiu—his eyes dark and locked on you, his hand pumping faster now, knuckles slick with precum. your cheeks burn, lips quivering, but your voice comes out sweet and broken.

“s-so good,” you whisper. “he… he fucks me so good…”

shiu lets out a low, strangled moan, his hips twitching like he’s barely holding back. “fuck, she’s perfect.”

toji chuckles, low and possessive, hand gripping your waist tighter. “she is, ain’t she?”

his free hand slides between your thighs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the swollen bundle until your whole body jolts.

“toji—!” you gasp, back arching, head falling against his shoulder.

“there it is,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “you’re close, huh? feel it buildin’ up, baby?”

you nod frantically, whimpering. it’s right there—heat coiling low in your belly, building and building until it’s unbearable. your muscles tighten, breath catching, legs shaking as his thrusts speed up, sloppy and desperate.

“don’t fight it,” he rasps. “let go. wanna feel you cum all over my cock while he watches.”

and that’s all it takes.

the tension snaps, white-hot and blinding, crashing over you in wave after wave as your orgasm tears through you. your moan is loud, guttural, uncontrollable—your body jerking in his lap, cunt clenching around him so tight it draws a growl from his throat.

“fuck—fuck, that’s it, baby—ride it out,” toji groans, hips still moving as he fucks you through it, chasing his own high.

across from you, shiu curses under his breath, his body jerking as he spills into his hand, eyes never leaving your face as you come undone.

you collapse against toji’s chest, panting, sweat-slicked and trembling, while he thrusts one last time with a deep groan, spilling inside you with a shudder.

for a moment, all you hear is breath—laboured, ragged, heavy in the silence that follows.

then, toji’s voice, low and teasing against your ear:

“worth losin’ a bet, don’t you think?”

…

hi nasty people, check out my masterlist while you’re here ↜(⃔ ◞•᷅௰•᷄)⃕◞ !

[psformybss]

Can you do one where the public reacts badly towards Drew’s secret?fiancée? I know you have done a good one but can you do a bad one?

When the World Knew

series masterlist

warnings: internet hate, secret relationship reveal, angst, emotional distress, comfort, death threats (mentioned), protective!Drew, hurt/comfort

an: fun fact i originally wanted to make the reveal angsty, actually wrote a few different versions of it and this one is one of them except more angsty than it originally was

════════════════

The day they got caught was golden.

Not metaphorically—actually golden.

The light, the laughter, the way the ocean curled around their ankles as they kissed. Teddy chased a gull down the shoreline. Drew held her hand like it was second nature, like no one was watching. Because they thought—hoped—no one was.

For a few sacred hours, it was just them and the surf. A soft kind of joy.

Until it wasn’t.

Until the picture hit the internet like a match to dry brush.

By morning, it was a fire.

By evening, it was an inferno.

And by the next day, it was war.

She hadn’t meant to check her phone.

She shouldn’t have.

But the moment she saw her face plastered across fan accounts, tagged in screenshots of that photo, the dread sank into her like a stone in water.

They had found her.

Not just her name—her Instagram. Her photos. Her old high school posts. Her graduation selfie with Drew’s arm around her waist. The blurry prom pic she forgot even existed.

And they ripped her apart.

Her DMs were flooded.

“You’ll never be enough for him.”

“He deserves better.”

“You’re ruining his career.”

“He could have any woman he wants, and he chose you?”

Then it got worse.

“Die.”

“Go kill yourself.”

“He’ll leave you. They always do.”

She locked her phone and sat in the silence of their bedroom, blinds drawn, heart thudding behind her ribs like a warning bell. Her skin itched. Her throat burned. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to scream or throw up.

Teddy barked from the living room. She didn’t move.

Her hands were shaking.

Drew found out during a scene break on set.

His phone vibrated nonstop—texts from his sister, his publicist, old high school friends, “Check Instagram now.”

He pulled up Instagram.

Saw the photos.

Saw the screenshots.

Saw the hate.

Saw her name trending.

He didn’t even tell the director he was leaving.

She didn’t hear him come in.

She was still sitting on the floor of the bathroom, back against the tub, eyes blank. Her phone was on the counter with the screen turned face-down.

He said her name once—softly.

She didn’t answer.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, cupping her face with trembling hands. “Hey. Baby. Look at me.”

Her eyes flicked to his. Shiny. Empty.

“They found me,” she said, voice hollow. “They found everything.”

Drew’s stomach twisted.

“They’re sending death threats.”

She blinked, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

“They said I should kill myself so you can be free.”

“Jesus,” he breathed, pulling her into him. She didn’t fight it. Just collapsed against his chest like she had nothing left holding her up.

“I thought I could handle it,” she whispered. “But I didn’t think it would be this.”

His jaw clenched. He stroked her hair like it could ground her. Like maybe if he held her close enough, none of it would stick.

“They don’t know you,” he said, his voice raw. “They don’t get to touch you like this.”

“I feel disgusting,” she choked. “Like I ruined everything. Like I’m the villain in their fantasy.”

“No. No,” he said, pulling back to meet her eyes. “This is not your fault. You didn’t ask for this.”

“We waited, Drew. We waited. We wanted it to be ours. Safe. Now they’ve taken even that.”

He saw it then—the heartbreak buried beneath the fear. Not just the backlash. But the grief of losing something sacred.

“I should’ve protected you,” he said quietly.

She shook her head, voice trembling. “You did. You always have.”

That night, Drew didn’t sleep.

She lay in bed beside him, silent tears soaking into his hoodie. He stayed awake, watching the curve of her cheek against the pillow, the slight hitch of her breath. Every time her phone buzzed on the nightstand, he had to force himself not to throw it across the room.

By dawn, he’d had enough.

He opened Instagram. Sat on the edge of their bed. Hit record.

No lights. No filters. Just a man and his fury.

“If you’re my fan,” he said, “you don’t get to send death threats to the woman I love.”

His voice was low, but it shook.

“She’s been part of my life since we were kids. Before the shows. Before the cameras. She has never once asked for attention or clout or anything from me but love.”

He swallowed hard.

“And now, because someone snapped a picture, she’s being harassed, threatened—told to die. All because she wears a ring I gave her.”

A pause. His eyes narrowed.

“I’m done being quiet. This isn’t just internet drama. This is real. This is the woman I’m going to marry, and you’re hurting her.”

His hand tightened around the phone.

“If you say you care about me—really care—then stop. Right now. Because I won’t stand by and watch you destroy the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He posted it without rewatching.

Then he turned off his phone.

And climbed back into bed.

The internet fractured.

Some fans doubled down—called him whipped, dramatic, claimed he was “blaming his supporters.”

But others fought back harder.

“This woman has done nothing wrong. Leave her alone.”

“Imagine being with your high school sweetheart and people think you’re the villain?”

“I can’t believe how disgusting people are being. Drew’s right to be furious.”

“Love like this doesn’t happen often. Protect it.”

Slowly, the tide shifted.

Not fully. But enough.

She could breathe again.

Not because the hate was gone.

But because he didn’t let her drown in it alone.

They stayed inside for a few days.

Ordered takeout. Watched comfort movies. Played music too loud just to block out the world.

Drew held her through the panic. Sat with her through the silence.

He kissed her like he meant it. Like he was building a new shield around her every time.

And eventually, she started to come back to herself.

She started answering texts again. Opened her camera roll and smiled at pictures of Teddy chasing his tail. Sat on their back porch with her knees pulled to her chest and said, “Maybe one day we’ll laugh about this.”

Drew kissed her temple.

“Maybe,” he agreed.

[stargirlrchive]

i think the only way i can get this priceghost threesome fic out is if i post half first! so enjoy (don’t hate me for blue-balling yall 😔 the smut is coming! i promise)

one — two — three

“Invited the Captain over for dinner.”

Your skin prickled as Simon’s gaze pinned you to your spot. He was watching your reaction and no doubt did not miss the way you chopped a bit harder into the vegetables you were cutting.

You just hummed, hoping he would miss the way your thighs gently clenched together at the thought of having both of them in your home.

Your last encounter, if you could call it that, was Price encouraging Simon to fuck you harder over the phone and you had not stopped thinking about it since.

Guilt had webbed its way into your chest as night after night your underwear soaked at the thought of both of them taking you.

Simon deep down your throat while his Captain devoured you.

You missed the way Simon’s eyes glossed over at your reaction. Already chubbing painfully as he watched you bite down onto your plump lip, and squeeze your thighs.

He knew the nasty little thoughts that ran through your mind. Had caught onto how you listened intently whenever his captains name was mentioned in conversation.

He didn’t blame you, gods he had been thinking about it too. The way your eyes would grow low and desperate as Price fucked you. Begging Simon to touch as you moaned and writhed beneath his captain.

The only reason he had let weeks go by to make a move is because he needed to be sure you’d be okay with it. He didn’t want to force something onto you that had happened accidentally.

But it was obvious. You were never well at hiding when your interest was piqued.

You had been so lost in your filthy little daydream you missed the sound of Simon’s footsteps approaching. You jumped lightly when his thick hands laid flat on your belly.

His nose dragging down the side of your neck as he pressed his hardening cock into you. He was so big it rested comfortably on the small of your back, right above the swell of your ass.

“Is it a problem that I invited him over?”

His breath was fresh against your heated skin and it caused a shiver to zip down your spine. One of his hands trailing lower before it slipped into the waist band of your shorts.

“No, not a problem. Just wish I would’ve known so I could’ve fixed myself up a bit. It’s not every day we host your team.”

You could hardly focus on not nipping your fingers with the knife as Simon’s finger dipped between your underwear. You wondered if he’d know that reason of your slick was also due to the older man.

Your head resting against his shoulder as he pushed the pad of his fingers against your wet clit. “You get this horny from chopping up vegetables?”

He laughed at his own joke, and you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that left your mouth. “Yeah, something about the chop really gets me going.”

He nipped at your throat lightly, his fingers barley hovering over your clit before he was dipping his fingers between your folds.

“And here I was thinkin’ it was because of me and John.”

Your body stilled against his, had you really been that obvious? Was…was he mad?

“I’m sorry-”

Simon kept your pressed against him as you tried to turn around to face him. His fingers still dipped into your slick pussy.

“What for, hm? For being a greedy little thing and wanting two cocks?”

You whimpered softly, thighs tightening around his hand as you nodded, you didn’t know what to do. On one hand you were worried Simon was upset, and on the other you were so fucking horny that your brain turned to mush.

“S’alright, baby. Cap’n and I arranged this all for you to get your little fix.”

You couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was saying, the tip of his finger dipping into your entrance. Your body felt like it was burning hot, clit pulsing with need as he slowly fucked you with his fingers.

“What is it that you want him to do?”

Simon’s free hand enveloped your breast, teasing your hardened nipples as he rolled his thumb against them. His other palm flat against your clit as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Want him to use your mouth? We can show him how good I’ve trained you.”

Your gasps and soft cries filled the kitchen, “Or do you want him to use his mouth on this pretty pussy. Get you all nice and wet before I stuff you full of my cock?”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, fucking yourself against his thick fingers as you cried and whined.

You were so close, just a few more swipes to your clit and you’d come all over his hand.

But the soft knock at your front door caused a warbled gasp to leave your mouth. Rutting against Simon’s hand before your release vanished. But he delivered a soft pinch to your nipple before his hand moved to your hips.

Gripping tight enough to still your movements as his fingers slipped out of you.

“That’s the Captain. Can’t keep ‘em waiting.”

You hoped your thoughts and desires weren’t written clearly on your face, but the subtle smirks thrown your way from Simon, and gentle smiles from Price told you otherwise.

You had to refrain from choking on each bite as John held your gaze as you spoke. He was so attentive, something that no doubt came from years of his job.

He was intense, but despite it all his eyes were warm, and it caused your cunt to pulse. All you could think about was how his hands would feel tugging on your hair, or biting into your skin. Or if he preferred to memorize your skin with soft, lingering touches.

You wondered if he preferred a gentler approach to having sex or not. You couldn’t tell.

And it was driving you crazy.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, doll?” John’s voice dripped like warm honey, warmth blooming in your belly as you refrained from melting into a puddle right at his feet.

You had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as Simon laughed as he saw the coy look on your face at the pet name.

Simon’s hands patting your thighs as he mumbled out,“Spacey little thing.”

You knew Simon was teasing you, and you huffed, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you let them talk.

You wouldn’t have added much to the conversation. Not when Simon’s hand was dangerously close to where you desperately wanted him.

You were so familiar with his touch, so used to the way the callouses of his fingers made your body burn with desire.

He was familiar, and safe, and home.

He teasingly rubbed and gripped at your thigh, throwing knowing glances your way each time your legs pried open a little more.

John excused himself to use the restroom, and Simon smiled down at you teasingly, “How are you feeling, love?”

You huffed, because he knew exactly what was going through your mind, the way your eyes drooped with desire.

“Need you, Si’.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded, pawing gently at his cock as you pressed soft kisses to his neck. You were met with a soft grunt, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

He gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his and his eyes scanned over your face, a small smidge of concern evident in his eyes as his words quietly filter through the room, “Jus’ wanna make sure, you okay with Cap joinin’ tonight?”

The flutter of your lashes was answer enough but he wanted to hear you say it verbally. You gave him a nod, trying to bite back a smile, “Yeah-I’m okay with it.”

He sent you a lazy smile, pressing his lips to yours as he pulled you up, moving the two of you to the couch and perching you on his lap.

John met you both in the living room, his eyes locked onto Simon’s in silent communication. With a subtle nod from Simon, Price’s eyes dropped down to you. Shamelessly drinking in your form and the way Simon’s fingers teased at your shirt, “You’re gonna make me jealous, Lt.”

Your eyes flickered to John’s, eyes fixated on the tent in his pants as he licked his lips, “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about all those pretty noises you made.”

You forced yourself not to squirm under his gaze, Simon’s deep voice rumbling against you as he spoke, “Took ‘em right there on that couch you’re sittin’ on.”

You bit your lip, recalling the way Simon handle you, pressing your face into the cushion to keep you quiet, fucking you relentlessly with the encouragement of his boss.

“Go on, baby. Think it’s time we show ‘em how good you are.”

[gravity-between-us]

Gravity Between Us

Chapter 17: Zero Gravity

Summary: Caleb and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. We were once childhood friends, our bond as natural as the stars in the sky. But now, everything has changed. What used to feel like a safe, familiar orbit between us now pulses with unspoken desire.

Our friendship is no longer enough to keep the tension at bay, and the distance between us feels unbearable. Secrets, lies, and unhealed wounds stand in our way. I don’t know if we can survive this new gravity pulling us together... but I can’t keep pretending I don’t want to try.

Pairing: Female! MC [Named] x Caleb

Spoilers: Spoilers for Caleb's Myth's, as well as memories. Read at your own risk for these. Lore spoilers.

WARNINGS:

Unlikely to be completely canon. The other love interests will not be likely to appear in this fic.

MC is named. MC is socially awkward. MC can be depressed at times.

Very? Slow Burn.

Very explicit smut (Chapter 12 onward): PiV/oral (male and female receiving)/anal sex. Fingering. First time. Pet names (angel, babe, baby, pip-squeak). Kinks: Praise, breeding, creampie, light dom/sub. Rough. Some consensual degradation talk (MC is into it). Probably many, many more that I am forgetting to name. If you see one that should be listed that isn't, feel free to let me know. (MC is a repressed deviant, and so is Caleb.)

Awkward blend of darker moments, angst, fluff, and humour.

Drinking. Questionable life decisions. MC spirals.

Protective Caleb. Both MC and Caleb are a little obsessive and overly protective of each other, which could be considered an unhealthy relationship.

We will revisit memory scenes, but they will be different from the memories in-game.

As proofread as I can get it, but not beta read, so probably some mistakes.

Limited plot - most focus is just on their relationship and interactions.

More warnings could be applied, but as a general rule of thumb, please read at your own risk and do not continue if you find the content triggering.

The warmth of midmorning light kisses my skin, I stretch with the smug grace of someone in a mattress commercial and immediately freeze. There’s a sensation. A very specific, very horrifying sensation. 

Oh, fuck. No, no, no, no, no!

I fling the covers off and look down at the sheets only to be greeted by what can only be described as a modern art crime scene. An abstract splash of crimson devastation sprawled beneath me like I spent the night doing interpretive dance in the blood of my enemies sometime between REM cycles.

“Shit.”

I slap a hand over my face, already feeling the slow, dreadful ooze continuing its vile descent. This cannot be happening. I grab my phone from the nightstand with the urgency of someone disarming a bomb, click open my period tracking app, and… It’s right on time.

“How is that even possible?” I hiss at the phone like it personally betrayed me. “You’re supposed to warn me, not sneak up on me like some uterus ninja with a vendetta!”

I scroll back through my notifications. Oh, there it is. The little alert I completely ignored while I was either passionately screaming at Caleb or passionately fucking him like he was the last star in the galaxy and I intended to go supernova with his name clawed down my throat.

Launching myself out of bed, I survey the wreckage. The sheets are toast. The mattress is probably emotionally scarred. I’m leaking down my thighs like a haunted Capri Sun. I slap a hand between my legs like I can physically catch it, like I’m holding back a flood with sheer willpower and a prayer.

I barrel into the bathroom, rip open the cabinet, and—empty. I squat down and double-check. Back of the cabinet? Dust and shame. Medicine drawer? Not even a sad emergency panty liner. Bottom shelf? Caleb’s stupid fancy razors and overpriced face cream.

Who forgets tampons?! What kind of reckless, chaos-witch just raw dogs a lunar cycle with nothing but vibes?

Me. I’m the disaster, and the agent of my own undoing.

I look around wildly, grabbing the first thing I see: a sock. “No,” I mutter, horrified by my own brain.

Tossing it aside like it insulted my bloodline, I yank off a wad of toilet paper, rolling it into a lumpy little horror taco like I’m MacGyvering my way through a high-stakes espionage mission. I stare at it solemnly. Will this hold? Will this… tissue paper tampon of dreams stand strong in the face of the crimson tide?

It disintegrates in my hand.

New plan! I rifle through the drawer like a raccoon on a bender. My eyes land on a bright yellow microfiber cloth, and for one bleak, desperate second, I consider it.

A wave of silent despair washes over me. This is it. This is how I die. Not from some noble cosmic cause like enemy fire or a plasma explosion. No. I am going to perish in a puddle of uterine vengeance and improvised hygiene, naked and betrayed by biology.

There I am: awkwardly half-squatting over the toilet like I’m summoning a bathroom demon, one hand clutching a rapidly disintegrating wad of toilet paper, the other gripping the sacred microfiber cloth of desperation and regret when Caleb waltzes up to the bathroom door I apparently did not close in my frantic dash.

“Hey, pip-squeak, you want—”

Caleb stops. Dead. Mid-sentence. Mug of coffee in hand. His eyes lock on me.

Time halts.

I freeze like a deer caught sacrificing goats in the moonlight.

“Get. Out.” I shriek, flailing the toilet paper at him like a deranged exorcist with a very absorbent crucifix.

He blinks. Slowly. Like he’s not sure if this is real or a trauma dream. “…Is that a sock?”

“It was an option, Caleb! I am a resourceful and desperate woman!”

He stares, taking in the horror show: my legs clamped like a human nutcracker, hair a disaster, surrounded by rogue cotton, abandoned hope, and what looks like the aftermath of a sacrificial blood ritual.

Caleb, bless his heart, doesn’t immediately laugh. “I… I brought coffee.”

“I cannot drink coffee right now,” I hiss, voice cracking. “I am waging war against my uterus with household textiles.”

A tense silence descends. Then he snorts, chokes, and collapses into giggles so hard he has to lean on the doorframe.

“Oh my god,” he gasps between laughs, eyes watering. “Is this what happens when your period starts? Do you always go full menstrual MacGyver?”

“I forgot to pack tampons!” I screech, throwing the sock like a grenade of shame. “I was too busy either screaming at you or climbing you like a fire escape!”

He sets the mug down before he drops it, laughing so hard he’s wheezing like a dying accordion.

I glare with the fire of a thousand vengeful wombs. “If you don’t leave right now, I swear I will use you. As. A. Tampon.”

His face twists in the most dramatic grimace of horror, as if I just threatened to turn him into a sentient cotton swab. “The war gods,” he whispers, backing away slowly, “they are very angry.”

“I hate you. I am dying. There is blood everywhere. You’re dating a hemorrhaging embarrassment.”

And he—still laughing—just nods solemnly like he’s attending my tragic, period-fuelled funeral. “And I love you more every second of it.”

He saunters over to the cabinet above the bathroom counter like we’re not in the middle of a full-blown menstrual apocalypse. Opens it, reaches up, and pulls out a box of tampons.

Caleb turns around slowly, like he’s unveiling the Mona Lisa, and presents them with a flourish. “Here. Bought these last week. Figured you’d need ‘em.”

“You… what?”

“There’s pads up there, too,” he adds nonchalantly. “All the kinds. Wings, no wings, overnight, ultra-thin. I didn’t know which type you liked, so I just panic-bought the entire aisle.”

“You knew when my period was coming?” I squint at him like he’s just hacked into the mainframe of my uterus.

He shrugs, casual as ever. “I’m your boyfriend now. It’s in the job description. Monitor the lunar cycle. Prepare for the blood tide. Arm myself with chocolate, carbs, and, apparently, advanced knowledge of feminine hygiene.”

My bottom lip wobbles like a toddler who just dropped her ice cream. 

“Are you crying?” he asks, horrified.

“I don’t know!” I sob, clutching the tampon box to my chest like it’s the Ark of the Covenant. “This is either the creepiest thing you’ve ever done or the most beautiful!”

He spreads his arms wide in that classic, smug hug-the-hero pose. “Come on. Bring it in. Hug your weirdly prepared boyfriend who has read the leaflet inside a pad box and lived to tell the tale.”

I lunge at him like a deranged, snotty koala on a mission. He catches me easily, wrapping his arms around me with the gentle certainty of a man who’s already accepted his fate as a period support unit. He doesn’t even flinch when my towel shifts and I probably bleed on his shirt.

He strokes my back. “You’re okay.”

“I am not okay,” I wail. “I’m in the pre-cramp phase. I can feel them coming. Like satanic elves warming up for a CrossFit class inside my uterus.”

He pulls back just far enough to rummage in the cabinet again. “I meant to grab your painkillers.” He throws his head back dramatically. “I was so close to being the perfect period boyfriend. I had the snacks. I had the supplies.”

I sniffle into his shirt. “I’m going to marry you. Not now. But someday. Maybe during a hormonal spike.”

He pauses. “…Will I have to share a bathroom with you forever? Because—pip-squeak—I have seen things today. Things that have scarred me. Things involving socks and microfiber.”

I smack his chest, mostly for effect. He just grins, kisses the top of my head, and peels away from me with the solemn purpose of a knight on a holy quest.

“I’m goin’ out to get the good painkillers,” he declares. “The ones with the green cap and the label that sounds like a spell. Do you want anything else? Chocolate? Cheese buns? A personal flamethrower for your uterus?”

I lift a limp hand from my towel cocoon. “Maybe… a box of those double chocolate cookies with the fudge inside. And a Coke. And chips. Ketchup.”

“Knew you’d say that,” he grins, already summoning his jacket and wallet with his Evol. They fly across the room and slap into his hands with lethal force. He nods once, grave as a man heading into battle. “If I die in the feminine hygiene aisle… tell the pharmacist I fought bravely.”

He’s out the door like I just yelled, “There’s a clearance sale on engine parts.” I blink at the empty space he once occupied and groan like a wounded animal, dragging myself upright.

The doorframe becomes my cane. My thighs feel like they’re made of stone. My lower back? Humming like an angry wasp trapped in a metal drum, sending out distress signals that scream, Regret is nigh.

I manage to clean myself up like a tragic battlefield medic, then start stripping the bed, cursing under my breath at the literal bloodbath left behind. Halfway through wrestling the fresh fitted sheet onto the bed, disaster strikes.

The first cramp hits. I freeze, blink, and collapse onto the mattress like I’ve just been assassinated by an invisible sniper targeting my uterus for sport. The pain coils through me like Satan is wringing out my insides like a dish towel.

The sheets fall from my arms. I curl up like an overcooked shrimp, moaning into the mattress. “Why… do I have a uterus…? Whose idea was this? Who gave me organs?”

I have no idea how long I lie there, contemplating the sheer indignity of it all. Time loses meaning. I might’ve been there for ten minutes. I might’ve aged a decade. Hard to say. I hear the click of the front door. Caleb’s back already? That was record time.

My brain immediately conjures the most likely scenario: Caleb, storming into the store with righteous determination and a basket, using The Voice. Not his regular voice—no, Colonel Caleb Voice™. The one that makes grown soldiers stand up straighter and children drop their lollipops.

I imagine him dramatically sidestepping a line of confused civilians like a man on a mission, barking, “Fleet business. Critical. Step aside. We’ve got a Code Red.”

Snacks flying. Store clerks cowering. Someone saluting for no reason. Children whispering legends of a man who once bought five types of cookies with the intensity of a war general.

Okay, full honesty? I hate that voice when we’re at Fleet HQ. But there’s…something about it. The way people scatter when he walks in. The sheer dominance in his stride. The fact that if he points at someone and says move, they move.

It’s objectively annoying. Also, unreasonably hot. Ten-out-of-ten, would straddle him in the war room and make him forget his clearance code.

“Inara?” Caleb’s voice, soft and tentative at first, then sharper when he doesn’t immediately spot my crumpled form. “Where—ah.”

He finds me starfished pathetically on the bed, eyes glazed, limbs locked in fetal formation.

“Oh, pip-squeak…” His whole voice changes. He sounds like a prince who’s stumbled upon his damsel in distress—if the damsel was bloated, furious, and lightly sweating.

He crouches beside me, brushing sweaty strands of hair from my forehead. “Can you turn around for me?”

I groan like I’m being asked to lift a car. My movements are glacial. Snail-like. Heroic, honestly. But I manage to uncurl myself with the elegance of a sloth with a pulled muscle.

Caleb situates a heating pad under the waistband of my pants and adjusts it like it’s a precious relic, carefully, reverently, then presses it over my stomach.

Sweet merciful heavens, it’s instant bliss. I gasp. Tears spring to my eyes.

He hands me a glass of water and two painkillers like I’m a wounded woodland creature that might bite. “Here. Got the ones with the green cap. And I brought Coke, cookies, chips… and ketchup. You know. For… morale.”

I blink up at him like he’s descended from the heavens in sweatpants and pilot boots. “You’re the best,” I croak. “Like, obnoxiously so. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m just tryin’ to outdo your uterus,” he smirks, easing me back down onto the bed like I’m made of glass and hormones. “Not an easy opponent. She fights dirty.”

He brushes a kiss to my temple. “Rest. I’ll finish the bed. Then we’re watchin’ the dumbest show TV has to offer while you eat enough sodium to kill a small horse. That’s an order.”

Once he has finished cleaning up my mess, he strolls back into the room, takes one look at my fetal shrimp formation, and gives me the kind of soft smile that could melt steel. He sits beside me and starts rubbing my back like he’s trying to lull a feral cat into trusting humans again.

“How’re you doin’, pip-squeak?”

I lift a shaky thumbs-up like I’ve survived a plane crash. “Still alive. Mostly. Your heating pad is a miracle. You should get a medal.”

“You remember when we were kids and you used to get sick? We’d steal every pillow in the house and build that ridiculous little fort in the living room. Sheets hanging from chairs. Chips hidden like we were squirrels. TV marathons ‘til we passed out.”

A slow, nostalgic smile curls on my lips. “Of course I remember. You always insisted on being the fort ‘commander.’ You even made me salute.”

He smirks. “Chain of command is sacred. Someone had to lead the resistance against… flu symptoms and adult supervision.”

I snort. “You tripped over your own cape and dive-bombed the juice boxes.”

“That was a tactical retreat,” he concludes with mock dignity. “And a brilliant one. Confused the enemy.”

His expression softens again, warm and just a little mischievous. “Want to do it again? I can drag the spare mattress out, build Fort Nostalgia, deluxe edition. Blankets, snacks—real battle station energy.”

My eyes round. “Yes. Oh my god, yes. That sounds like heaven.” Just as he starts to stand, I snag his wrist with exaggerated flair and bat my lashes like a princess about to request a small crime. “Wait. Can I do it? With your Evol?”

He squints at me like I’ve just asked to borrow his liver. “You want to use my Evol? To move a mattress?”

I nod with the wide-eyed innocence of someone who absolutely should not be trusted with powers that bend the laws of physics. “Please? It’ll be fun! I promise I won’t destroy anything!”

Caleb stares at me in silence. “You do remember the last time I let you use my Evol, right? You tried to ‘gently levitate’ the couch and instead launched it through Gran’s drywall like it was a battering ram.”

“That was years ago,” I retaliate with great offence. “And only because you never let me practice.”

“That’s because you launched furniture at heirlooms, Inara. Her antique plate collection had to be picked out of the ficus.”

“That was gravity’s fault,” I sniff. “Also, technically, your Evol. I just directed it. Badly.”

He drags a hand down his face like a man trying to erase the memory of broken porcelain and family shame. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

I beam. “So that’s a yes?”

He stares at the ceiling, possibly praying, sighs, arms flopping like he’s accepting a doomed mission. “Fine. The risk is worth the nostalgia.”

“Yes!” I fist-pump weakly from my side of the bed, victorious in a way only the truly dramatic can be. “Prepare for fort magic.”

“Please do not destroy the house,” he mutters as he heads off to move breakables, mentally rearranging the room like it’s an incoming war zone.

Honestly, his faith in me is wildly low for someone who once ate a crayon because I told him it would make his tongue purple forever. But I’m about to get a full cuddle fort, complete with gravity manipulation and deluxe snacks, courtesy of the best boyfriend-slash-long-suffering Evol instructor in the galaxy.

“Alright, come here, troublemaker,” he grumbles, swooping down and scooping me up bridal-style like it’s just another Tuesday.

I squeak. “Okay, rude. I’m extremely capable.”

“You’re extremely bleeding and shaped like a crescent roll. Let me carry you before you fold yourself into a tortilla.”

He strides us toward the spare room, and I feel the hum of his Evol beneath my palm, vibrating through his chest like a second heartbeat. It’s that eerie, quiet kind of power, like standing on the edge of a black hole with full trust fall energy.

“I’m going to resonate with you,” I whisper, already syncing with his Evol without waiting.

“Obviously,” he replies like a man who has accepted his fate. “I’ve already made peace with the fact I’m going to die in this house. Possibly crushed under a floating snack shelf.”

“Shut up. This is going to be fucking majestic.”

The moment I fully sync with him, it hits me like I’ve just been launched into low Earth orbit with zero training and a bag of chips. Every object in the room has a presence, a glowing, pulsing, “move me, chosen one,” kind of aura in my mind’s eye.

The mattress? Oh, the mattress is practically singing to me. Radiating potential. Whispering sweet nothings like, “Launch me, goddess of gravity.”

I turn to Caleb, eyes wild with power and mattress lust. “The mattress,” I breathe. “She’s ready.”

“Okay,” he begins, clearly regretting everything that has led us to this exact moment. “Let’s maybe just slide it gently—”

It’s too late. I am the mattress now. We are a singular being of foam, springs, and unearned confidence.

“No—wait—lift from the centre—!”

…Oops.

The mattress doesn’t just move. It yeets sideways like it’s trying to escape a haunted house, slamming directly into the bookshelf. Books explode into the air like startled pigeons, flapping through the chaos of their new airborne lifestyle. A picture frame bounces off the wall and does a dramatic spin before hitting the ground in defeat.

Caleb yelps like a man betrayed and immediately wrests back control of his Evol before I can accidentally level the rest of the spare bedroom.

“CENTRE. OF. MASS,” he bites out, trying and failing to sound stern while choking on laughter. A lampshade is still spinning on its side like a dying Beyblade.

“I panicked!” I cry, hands still dramatically aloft like I’m summoning ancient forces. “Why did it go left?!”

“Because you yanked it like a toddler having a meltdown in a toy aisle!”

Caleb carefully puts me down, then steps behind me with the wariness of a man defusing a bomb. His hands slide over mine, steady and sure.

“Okay. Try again,” he encourages, cheek brushing mine, his voice soft like spring rain and emotional damage. “Breathe. Feel it settle. Don’t yank. Coax it.”

“Coax it?” I mutter, side-eyeing him. “You want me to seduce the mattress?”

“If it keeps it from launchin’ into the kitchen, then yes.”

I breathe in slowly, tuning in, fingers twitching with intent. The mattress gives a faint shiver, hovering mid-air like it’s about to be recruited by NASA.

Caleb murmurs near my ear, “There you go. That’s my terrifyin’ space goddess.”

I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “You’re just saying that so I don’t fling it at your face next.”

“Correct.”

We guide it slowly into the living room, side-stepping the crime scene that was once a bookshelf. The mattress lands with a soft fwump in front of the TV. Caleb helps me tuck blankets around the edges like it’s an art installation, piles pillows with the solemnity of a man performing ancient rites, and hurls snacks into a bowl like a five-star chaos chef.

The room looks like a tornado passed through and then decided to stay for movie night. It’s perfect. When we finally collapse into our newly crafted fort, I’m sweaty, still crampy, and emotionally unbalanced, but also grinning like a maniac.

We settle, limbs tangled, snacks close, blankets pulled up to our ears like we’re preparing to weather a romantic storm. Caleb presses a kiss to the crown of my head before handing me the remote like I’m the queen of this ridiculous castle.

“Your Highness,” he purrs solemnly. “Choose our poison.”

I scroll for about two seconds before landing on Love Detour: Second Chances. The premise? Absolute garbage fire. Couples who have broken up in spectacularly messy fashion agree to go on a cross-country road trip together in a glorified tin can, aka a camper van, to see if they can “rekindle their connection.”

Caleb squints at the screen like it just personally insulted his intelligence. “Okay, wait. What is this?”

“It’s about emotional terrorism,” I inform him, deadpan. “And also, trying to find love again while being trapped in close quarters with someone who ruined your life.”

He groans. “No. No, Inara, please. I cannot withstand this level of stupidity.”

“You say that now,” I sing, waggling the remote at him like it’s a loaded weapon, “but just you wait.”

Five episodes later, Caleb is captivated. “Okay, hold on,” he says, sitting bolt upright. “The guy with the man bun—Brandon, right?—he cheated on her twice but now wants to get back together because he ‘misses her energy’? What does that even mean?!”

“It means he’s delusional,” I reply, shovelling popcorn into my face like I’m watching the fall of Rome.

“And why is Alyssa still here?! She literally said—and I quote—‘I feel dead inside when he talks.’ That’s not love; that’s a warning from your nervous system!”

“Because she has main character syndrome,” I explain patiently, “and she’s holding out for a spin-off.”

He sighs, hand over his heart like he’s just lost a battle he never meant to fight. “I hate that you’ve sucked me into this.”

“No, you don’t,” I smirk, licking salt off my fingers. “You love it.”

“I hate how much I do love it,” he mutters, eyes still glued to the screen.

By the time episode eight starts, Caleb’s whisper-screaming commentary is more entertaining than the show itself. We lie there like that for hours with Caleb emotionally compromised by a man named Zayden with neck tattoos, me basking in my trash TV supremacy, both of us warm and buried under blankets in the coziest little disaster fort this side of the galaxy.

Caleb turns to me with the slow blink of a man who has lost faith in humanity but somehow can’t look away. “This is brain poison.”

“Correct, but it’s delicious brain poison. Don’t think I didn’t see you flinch when Brandon said, ‘I’ve changed.”

“I wanted to launch him into the sun,” He grumbles, muffled by the blanket. “He has a podcast, Inara. A podcast where he talks about crypto and ‘emotional maturity.”

“Oh god.” I clutch my imaginary pearls. “We have to take him out.”

Caleb turns his head slowly to look at me, one brow raised. “Colonel Caleb will not rest until justice is served.”

There it is. That stupidly commanding, bossy, Fleet-issue tone that shoots directly into my spinal cord like it’s got clearance to override my nervous system.

I blink at him. “Say that again.”

“What?”

“The way you just said it. ‘Colonel Caleb will not rest.’ God, that voice.”

He frowns like he doesn’t quite follow. “You mean my regular voice?”

“No, no. The voice you use when you’re yelling at rookie pilots. When you’re reading comms reports and doing that thing where you flex your jaw like you’re about to arrest someone with your disappointment alone.”

His eyebrows slowly ascend into the stratosphere. “You’re not… into that voice, are you?”

My head snaps toward him so fast my neck cracks. “Into it? Caleb. I would burn down a civilian outpost just to hear you recite emergency evac protocols in that voice. I would commit war crimes for it.”

Caleb groans and covers his face. “You are unwell.”

“Say something fleety,” I beg, grabbing his arm and shaking it. “Please. Just give me, like, one standard flight command.”

“I am not doin’ this,” he laughs, trying to roll away.

“Sir,” I bark in my best impression of a fleet cadet. “Requesting command input, sir.”

He squints at me, exhales in the most put-upon way imaginable, sits up straighter, and—

“Cadet Inara, execute evasive manoeuvre delta-7. Recalibrate inertial dampeners and prepare for atmospheric breach. You have fifteen seconds. Do not make me repeat myself.”

My soul leaves my body. This is like foreplay for people with a voice kink.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, fanning myself. “That was so hot, I need a tactical cold compress.”

Caleb looks entirely betrayed by his own power. “You are the worst.”

“Say ‘negative, commander’ next,” I demand, poking his side. “Like you’re scolding someone who’s being cocky in a briefing.”

“Negative, Commander.”

I practically melt into the mattress. There’s a pause. He stares at me. I stare back, wild-eyed and panting like a Victorian-era man seeing an exposed ankle. He gives me a long, considering look.

“…What?” I ask, instantly suspicious.

A slow, wicked grin pulls across his face. “So, you like the Colonel voice, huh?”

Oh no. I’ve fucked up and exposed my weakness. Mistakes have been made.

“I say a lot of things when I’m dehydrated and emotionally compromised,” I argue, which is a lie, and we both know it.

He leans in, dropping his voice to a rich, authoritative murmur that’s somehow louder than a shout. “Cadet Inara, stand by for further instruction.”

My soul actually leaves my body this time. Just exits through the roof. Gone. Goodbye. “Okay,” I breathe, white-knuckling the popcorn bowl. “That’s unfair.”

“Oh, is it?” he asks innocently, lounging back against the pillows like a man who’s just discovered the launch codes to my entire brain. “Initiate primary thruster sequence and prepare for acceleration.”

“Stop it,” I hiss, clutching my face like it’ll keep my blush from leaking out.

“Maintain current trajectory. Target locked.”

“I could file a formal complaint,” I warn, pointing a finger at him. “Abuse of command tone. Emotional sabotage. Weaponized discipline kink.”

He shrugs. “Standard protocol for a level-seven flirtation scenario.”

“Oh my stars,” I groan, falling sideways into the pillows.

He rolls with me, arms sneaking around my waist as he whispers into my ear, “Initiating close-range docking protocol.”

I involuntarily make a noise like some kind of startled rodent. He grins into my shoulder, smug, evil, and warm as a sunflare.

“Caleb,” I whisper, “you’re going to die for this.”

“Permission granted, Commander. Death by cuddles imminent.”

Now he’s holding me hostage, wrapped around me like a living weighted blanket, still whispering half-serious fleet jargon like it’s dirty talk while I attempt not to astral project straight onto his cock. I should push him off. I should fight back. I should absolutely not be melting into his arms like butter on a fusion coil, but here we are.

Buried in a nostalgia fort, under three blankets and one deeply swellheaded space pilot, whispering flight commands into my ear like he’s trying to make me come.

Honestly? Peak romance. 

Chapter Masterlist

A03 - Note: Not all chapters are available there yet because I haven't had the time to copy them all over. Soooo.... this is an incredibly self induglent chapter, and now I really want to build a fort. 😅

[itsmeeleanorstill]

Its been you me since before i was me

Edward Nashton x reader

Summary: comforting riddle boy when hes crying+ him feeling guilty thinking he dosent deserves your love

He wanted it so badly.....

Something he craved since the moment his pathetic of a life haves started. Years of guilt and shame builting up in him always begin there in the back of his mind folowing him around like a shadow, constant whispers in his mind playing over and over agin telling him hes not worth it you're just doing it out of pity for him but still....

Still when you showed him a warm smile and ran a hand oh so gently over his cheek he wants to belive you for a second

Just one glarce from you was enough to make him feel like that look was the last thing he ever wanted see as the world colapsed around you too, to feel like a hero taking people out of a corrupted world like this

But will he ever be free from the burden of knowing hes the only savior in a city like gotham? He knew he wasent alone, after all there was his folowers and maybe only maybe there could be you....? But no what if you hate him after he reveals his true twisted nature if you see him for the true monster he is.....

Will you still love him?

Will you still love him if you knew where he came from? Knowing how much of a mess he is inside?

But still its been you and him before he even knew he was him

He walked trew the small shared apartment you two had face hot eyes burning with tears stumbling on everything as he hurried to reach you

You ware sitting on the couch your face twisted in worry as you saw his agitated state

-baby whats wrong?

You asked in a soft voice as he sat down next to you holding back tears trying not to reveal the mess he is

You opened your arms for him but he just hugged you putting his head on your chest as you both layed back on the couch him him ontop of you holding onto your shirt for dear life like you might disapier anything or even worse leave him for somebody better

He burried his face into your chest as he mumbled apologies tears streaming down his face making your shirt wet as he very quietly sobbed in your arms

But you just let him do it as long as he needed as you whispered sweet nothings to him arms around him rubbing on his back

After what felt like hours he looked up at you his crying haves calmed down a bit as you looked at him and kissed his forehead looking at your lover in your arms looking more beutifull then ever

Cheeks red hair messy big green eyes glossy with tears looking like a beutifull angel that fell from heaven right into your arms

And he? He felt like he wanted to die exacly like this

In your arms

[twyudai]

wolf!Fuma cuz the wolf agenda has been HEAVY lately and smth about predator/prey just gets me gOING 💦 (i'm sure yk exactly who this is aksdfjgh)

📬 while im not great at writing hybrid!member, this one’s for you bff 😚

you don’t even make it past the clearing before he catches you. a blur of heat and muscle slams into your back, knocking the breath from your lungs as you’re pinned flat against a tree. bark scrapes your palms, but all you feel is him—towering behind you, chest heaving, growl low and lethal in your ear. he was in heat. with the seasons changing—it only grew stronger.

“thought you could run?” he snarls, voice thick with the wild. “you forget who you belong to?” his hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back so he can press his mouth to your neck—sharp teeth grazing your pulse, just enough to sting. you whimper, and he laughs—dark, satisfied. “you don’t get to tease and run, little thing. not with my scent all over you.”

his free hand snakes down, grip bruising as he grabs your hip, pulling you back against the hard line of him. “this body’s mine. every sound, every breath. mine.” you try to speak, to twist in his hold, but he presses his thigh between your legs, locking you in place. “no talking. not until i say. you’re gonna take everything i give you, and you’re gonna thank me for it.”

his claws graze the edge of your shirt, and it’s the only warning you get before the fabric tears—effortless in his hands. the cold air bites at your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the burn of his gaze. “look at you,” he growls, voice breaking on something feral. “perfect. fuckin’ made for me.” and then he bites—not enough to break skin, but hard enough to leave a mark. a claim. you cry out, but it only makes him smile. “that’s it, baby. let everyone hear who owns you.”

his hands are all over you now—rough, greedy, like he’s been holding back for too long. your shirt lies shredded in the dirt, your skin burning under every possessive touch. he pushes your legs apart with his knee, lips dragging down the curve of your throat, sucking bruises into your skin like he wants to brand you from the inside out.

“gonna wreck you,” he breathes, voice ragged with restraint. “right here. against this tree. in the open. let the whole fuckin’ forest know you’re mine.” your breath catches when he grabs your jaw, turning your face to meet his eyes. golden, glowing, hungry. it makes your knees buckle, but he doesn’t let you fall—just presses you harder against the bark, one hand slipping low, slow, deliberate.

“so wet already,” he growls, his voice going rougher. “knew you liked it when i chase. when i take.” he kisses you then—deep, consuming, tongue claiming every sound you make. you try to move, try to grind back against him, but he grabs your wrists and pins them high above your head with one hand. “no,” he hisses against your lips. “you don’t get to control this. i do. you take what i give you. you beg for more.”

his free hand moves lower, teasing, just to hear you whimper. he smirks against your skin when you start to beg—desperate, breathless. “good,” he growls. “now you’re learning.” and then he drops to his knees.

his hands slide up your thighs as he kneels, hot breath fanning over your core. he doesn’t ask. doesn’t wait. just tears the rest of your clothes aside like paper, and the cold air hits you for a second—before his mouth does. you cry out, head slamming back against the tree. he groans like he’s starving, tongue dragging through you slow at first, just to feel you squirm. then he locks his arms around your thighs, holding you open, locking you in, and devours you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“fuckin’ perfect,” he growls against you, voice wrecked. “mine. mine. say it.” you can barely breathe, let alone speak, but the second you whimper his name, he pulls back—licks his lips, eyes blown black with lust. “louder,” he snarls, standing in one swift movement and flipping you around against the tree. your cheek hits the bark, and you feel him behind you—burning, solid, pressed hard against your back.

“say you’re mine, or i’ll make you scream it.” you gasp it out, barely coherent, and it’s like a switch flips. his hands grab your hips, pull you back with a growl that rips through your spine. the tip of his nose presses to the back of your neck, teeth grazing over the same spot he bit earlier. “good girl,” he murmurs. “now hold on tight.”

[rookanisstuff]

“Oh Lucanis… I’m going to miss you.”

Lucanis funeral in like 30 years….. there was supposed to be a second part where she kissed the coffin but frankly it’s too damn sad!!!!! I can’t take drawing this anymore!!!!

[gojosconsort]

heheheeeeeeeee sex with husband!suguru cuz his pregnants wifes libido is literally over the roof with these raging hormones. she is like a dog in heat.

𓂃୨ৎ mdni. pregnancy, riding, creampie, breeding kink, body insecurity (related to pregnancy weight), multiple rounds of sex, aftercare, domestic fluff

the house is quiet, late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. suguru’s sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the back, watching you shuffle around in nothing but his oversized shirt, the fabric stretching tight over your swollen belly. seven months pregnant, and you’re a vision—curves fuller, skin glowing, but there’s a restlessness in you, a hunger that’s been there since the hormones kicked into overdrive. you’re like a dog in heat, insatiable, craving him morning, noon, and night, and fuck, he loves it. loves you. loves the way you’re both animals now, rutting like you can’t get enough.

you catch his gaze, pausing mid-step, and he sees it—the glint in your eyes, the way your thighs press together. “suguru,” you whine, voice thick with need, and he’s already hard, cock twitching in his sweats at the sound. you’ve fucked three times today already—once in the shower, water slicking your skin as he pinned you against the tiles; once in the kitchen, bending you over the counter; and now you want more. he grins, lazy and predatory, spreading his legs wider. “c’mere, baby,” he says, low and rough. “you’re gonna kill me, but i’m not complaining.”

you’re on him in seconds, straddling his lap, hands fumbling with his waistband. your belly presses against him, heavy and warm, and you hesitate, a flicker of shyness crossing your face. “i’m so… big,” you mutter, cheeks flushing, hands hovering over your stomach. “what if it’s too much?” suguru’s heart twists—he hates when you doubt yourself, especially now, when you’re carrying his kid, looking like a fucking goddess. he grabs your hips, firm, pulling you closer. “you’re perfect,” he growls, eyes dark with want. “and i want you so bad it hurts. let me fuck you ‘til you can’t think.”

his words light you up, shyness melting under the heat of his desire. you free his cock, thick and leaking, and he groans as you stroke him, your hands shaky with eagerness. “ride me,” he says, voice almost a command, but there’s pleading in it too. “i love watching you fuck yourself on me.” you whimper, nodding, but your movements are slower now, the weight of your belly making it harder. he sees the struggle and helps, hands guiding your hips, lifting you slightly as you line him up.

you sink down, slow at first, and fuck, it’s heaven. he’s deep, stretching you wide, and you both moan, raw and loud, as you take him fully. “so tight,” he rasps, hands roaming your thighs, your ass, gripping hard enough to bruise. “every time, baby, you feel like a dream.” you’re hesitant, trying to find your rhythm, but the hormones have you desperate, hips rocking before you can stop yourself. he helps, lifting you, letting you bounce, and the sight—god, the sight. your tits, fuller now, straining against his shirt; your belly, round and heavy; your face, flushed and needy, lips parted as you pant. he’s obsessed, wants to burn this into his brain forever.

“suguru,” you gasp, hands braced on his chest, nails digging in. “s’too much, but i need it.” you’re a mess, grinding down, chasing the friction, and he loves how wild you are, how you’re both reduced to this—animals, clawing at each other. he thrusts up, meeting your movements, and you cry out, head tipping back, the sound driving him feral. “that’s it,” he grunts, hands sliding to your ass, spanking you lightly, just enough to make you jolt. “fuck yourself on my cock, baby. cum. for me.”

you try, bouncing harder, but the weight slows you, frustration flashing in your eyes. he senses it, takes over, lifting you effortlessly, slamming you down in time with his thrusts. “let me help,” he murmurs, but there’s a mean edge to it, a teasing lilt. “can’t even ride me proper with that belly, huh? good thing i’m here to fuck you right.” you whimper, clinging to him, and he loves it—loves how you need him, how you give yourself over completely.

he’s deep, so deep, each thrust hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and you’re loud, moans spilling out, unfiltered. “more,” you beg, voice breaking, and he gives it, relentless, fucking up into you like he’s trying to plant another baby right now. “fuck, i want another one,” he groans, hands cupping your belly, imagining it swollen again, full of him. “gonna keep you like this, always.” you shudder, turned on by his words, by the idea, and he feels you clench, milking him, pulling him closer to the edge.

“suguru, i’m—” you don’t finish, orgasm hitting hard, ripping through you. you scream, body shaking, and he holds you through it, thrusting harder, chasing his own release. “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he pants, watching you fall apart, loving how you drench him, how you’re his. he comes seconds later, spilling deep inside, groaning as he fills you, the thought of breeding you again making it that much sweeter. you collapse against him, panting, sweaty, and he wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple, your hair, your shoulder.

you’re still trembling, and he shifts, careful not to jostle you too much, laying you back on the couch. “one more?” you mumble, half-joking, but there’s that glint in your eye, the hormones still raging. he laughs, soft but wicked, already hard again at the thought. “you’re insatiable,” he says, climbing over you, but his touch is gentle now, hands stroking your sides, your belly. “gimme a minute, baby. let me take care of you first.”

he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen, helping you sip, wiping sweat from your brow with a cool cloth. “you feeling okay?” he asks, eyes searching yours, checking for any discomfort. your weight’s been on your mind lately, and he knows it, so he leans down, kissing your stomach, murmuring, “you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.” you smile, shy but warm, and he kisses you properly, slow and deep, pouring all his love into it.

“i love you like this,” he says, settling beside you, one hand resting on your belly, feeling the faint kick of your baby. “all needy, all mine. and fuck, when you ride me?” he grins, teasing, but there’s awe there too. “it’s the hottest thing. you’re perfect, baby.” you laugh, swatting him weakly, but you’re glowing, the insecurity fading under his praise.

“again soon?” you ask, voice soft, and he chuckles, pulling you close, already planning the next round. “soon as you want,” he promises, mean edge creeping back, but it’s wrapped in devotion. “i’m keeping you pregnant forever if it means this.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, curling into him, and he knows—he’s never loved you more than now, wild and wanting, carrying his child, his life.

he stays there, holding you ‘til you drift off, his hand never leaving your belly, already dreaming of the next time he’ll have you bouncing on him, fucking like animals, building a family one hot night at a time.

[disco-archetypes]

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Sad FM is a radio station specializing in sad, slow rock songs. You seem to know its frequency by heart.

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

many years ago someone complimented me on how sincerely i wished my ex well after a break up and i did mean it at the time but im truly not that bitch anymore i hope his nose is stuffy the rest of his life tbqph

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

so I keep learning about The Horrors™️ of American healthcare and I keep hearing Americans talk abt this shit like it’s totally fine and let me tell y’all. It’s not. Apparently and ADHD or Autism test costs like 500$ for you guys? And then when you do get diagnosed you gotta think abt shit like “okay but do I actually need meds?” Bc apparently that’s a financial decision? But it,,, it shouldn’t be right? Right okay bc

I live in Europe, specifically Austria, and this is how healthcare works here: if you have a job you have healthcare. Your employer pays for it. They have to. It’s absolutely illegal and unheard of not to. They do take about 20% out of your pay-check every month to pay for that and other legal things that I don’t quite understand (my dad explained it to me once but I’m 20 so I still don’t get it bc I don’t really have to but every cent they take out benefits me I think so it’s fine).

Now irl this is a lot more complicated but basically, you have public healthcare and private healthcare and then just stuff that’s up to the government (like ambulance rides, I think. Even if you don’t have insurance u don’t pay for that. I know this bc an American friend of mine didn’t and had to go to the hospital and called a cab and when they told me I was like “??? BRO WHY NO AMBULANCE” this is also how I found out that Americans have to pay for ambulance rides. wtf.)

Basically your insurance covers all medical expenses from doctors who are in your network (public practice). This is your GP, hospitals, and pretty much all specialised docs (dentist, internists, cardiologists, etc.). However, the public offices are much busier than the private ones (obvi) so if you’re in a rush, want special treatment, or just be a little fancy you can CHOOSE to pay for private doctors. And even then you can hand in those bills to your insurance and you get part of the money back (abt 30% which you receive abt 4 months after handing the bill in).

If you keep your bills for private care doctors you can hand them in to,,, someone somewhere somehow (idk man) and get a bigger tax return. (bc we don’t calculate our taxes ourselves. it just gets taken out of your pay-check by your employer every month and then at the end of the,,, fiscal year??? I guess?? Idk man idk how shit works — you get any money that was like,,, extra (????) back)

Now you might ask yourself: “phi, why would I pay for doc if I can go to free doc?” Which is an excellent question. Again, for most people it’s about waiting times but there is one field where it just really makes more sense: mental health services. Private practitioners have less clients and more high quality care than public ones because they choose their own funding, which, surprise surprise, is better than public funding.

I will now take you through my own personal journey so you can have a practical example of how good healthcare CAN AND SHOULD BE (keep in mind here I have parents who after messing me up and being terrible but learning their lessen once I became an adult and told them how horrible they were are very supportive of me pursing my mental health)

When I was about to turn 20 I went to my GP and had a conversation with her about how I think I might have ADHD. She asked me about my complaints and agreed there definitely are symptoms indicating it. She wrote me a referral to a Psychiatrist. When I got to my Psychiatrist she tested me and because of the referral she could tell the insurance company that this test was necessary and not elective, meaning insurance payed for it in full and I never even saw that bill.

Now I had a diagnosis all but a week later. I spoke to my parents who agreed to support me in finding private care. My Psychiatrist charges 160€ (insurance returns 48€) per appointment which my mum graciously pays for. I see him once every couple of months to check in on my use of medication and how I’m responding and to see if my dosis needs adjustment. If and when I need a refill, I only have to write him an email. Before he could put me on medication I needed a blood draw and cardiac test, to ensure that I qualified for a stimulant, since they can be harmful in some cases. He wrote me referrals and I went to my GP and a public cardiologist for those tests, which were all free of ANY charge.

I was then cleared to take my meds within a few weeks (cardiologist had a bit of a waiting list). I was prescribed Ritalin and some sleeping pills by my psychiatrist. He gives me the prescriptions and a letter to the insurance company asking them to cover the cost, as I have a diagnosis which he confirmed again in his initial assessment of me. Now that I’ve gotten approved, all I pay for is the prescription, not the actual medication. Which is about 6-7€ for the Ritalin and 4-5€ for the sleeping pills (monthly supply each).

My Therapist is also a private doctor. She charges 120€ per session and I go twice a month, which is 240€ per month. My dad contributes 100€ and my mum contributes 30€, which means I’m down to 110€ per month. Insurance pays 30€ per session (so 60€ per month) so I pay a grand total of 50€ or 25€ per session.

So my medical treatment each month costs me just about 62€ AT MOST (since I don’t always need my sleeping pills refilled).

Now, just for fun, let’s assume my parents don’t support me and I see both my therapist and my psychiatrist in the same month and need both my meds refilled. This would come to just about 304€ (because of insurance deductions).

But you have to consider that I DON’T see my psychiatrist every month, so the more realistic monthly cost would be 187€. And should I decide I can’t pay for that I can still get on a waiting list for public mental health practitioners, in which case the only thing I’d ever need to pay for are the prescription costs for my medication which would still be up to 7€ for the Ritalin and up to 5€ for the sleeping pills putting the grand total at 12€ PER MONTH.

My family and I simply chose the quicker, more efficient option, but no one twisted our arm into paying this amount of money FOR BASIC CARE.

And yes, it’s a lot of bureaucracy (it took me WAY too long to spell that) and paperwork, but I’d much rather that than have to decide between mental well-being or being broke.

So, my conclusion: Cancel America, move to Europe, OR just tell the American People In Charge Men that it is that easy and they really should try a little harder and you citizens shouldn’t settle for the shit you have to put up with right now because wtf

if you wanna cry a little it’s okay lemme know I’ll come sit with you and offer a hug but you can say no if that’s not your thing

anyways love ya

phi

[starboymuse]

idk it’s just really sad how all of this played out i would have never anticipated that mason leaving his childhood club would happen so early and would be surrounded by so much hate and gossip. it was supposed to be him and reece at the club forever but seeing his camp confirm time and time again he has no intention of staying is something i still can’t stomach

[yoohyeon]

I barely slept today and I feel like I won’t be able to sleep again tonight cause my nose is BURNING

[umamaki]

cw: lowk red flag caleb lol, virginity loss

Caleb is pissed when you get asked out for the first time. He had deliberately warned everyone in both of your social circles to stay away from you. Not without threats of violence or death, either. So yeah, he’s pissed as fuck when you tell him. Did he have to burn the whole world down merely to keep you all to himself? To protect you from perverts and creeps?

But, unfortunate and naive, you were so damn excited for this date. He couldn’t spoil your mood. Not when you asked him which dress to wear—both of them too short for his liking—and certainly not when you asked him to zip up the back for you.

There was just something about how you looked, all dolled up and cute to see someone who wasn’t him. He can already barely control himself around you; even the thought of another man having access to you like this makes him utterly sick. “It’s just not a good idea. All guys want the same thing.”

“You’re a guy aren’t you, Caleb? So what, are you telling me you’re like that too? Hmm?” He wants to wipe the playful smile off your face. You just think everything’s some fucking game.

“He’s gonna want to kiss you. Touch you. Fuck you. Have you ever been fucked? Huh, pipsqueak?”

He thinks he went too far then, notes the way your eyes widen and lips slightly part. You shake your head, but he already knows. He knows everything about you. So when you ask if he can help you, give you some advice, he knows exactly how he will.

“So naive, let me just show you.” He smashes his lips against yours. The force would’ve sent you falling backwards had he not steadied you with his hand on the small of your back.

“This is how to kiss…” he mutters it into your mouth, not caring that your teeth are hitting each other.

“And this…” he lifts your skirt just enough so that he can pull your panties to the side and slide his fingers along your puffy folds. “This is how it feels to be fingered.”

“Ah—Caleb!” You squeal when he fully plunges his finger in deeper than your own fingers ever could. He adds another, and soon the room is filled with your moans and the lewd squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out of your soaked pussy.

His lips are back on yours, and this time his tongue is shoved inside your mouth, claiming it. He goes faster when he feels your walls clench around him, and lets you grip his biceps while you come around his fingers and leave behind crescent shaped indents on his arms.

He nearly throws you on the bed, eager to yank off your underwear and free himself from his own boxers, wasting no time in aligning his tip to your still sensitive cunt.

“This is how to take it like a good fucking girl.” You try your best to relax, to be so good for him as he buries himself into you. He lets you get used to his size, going slow. Not moving until you practically beg him to, then there’s no going back. He’s brutally snapping his hips against yours and watching your tits bounce through your dress.

“Already gonna come on my cock? You really are inexperienced. Can’t even control yourself. Go on then. Fucking. Come.” With two last jerks of his hips, your climax washes over you and he tries so fucking hard to delay his own orgasm. He begins to pull out but your legs lock him in place. He cums on the spot—still inside you.

“Don’t care that I ruined your dress? How you gonna go on your date now, baby?”

“Hm. Guess I have to cancel,” you say, faux disappointment coating your words.

He pauses. “There was no date.”

“There was no date.” You confirm, wearing that same stupid grin from before. Luckily your schedule is free, because he has a hell of a punishment waiting for you after that.

[screampied]

PUFF, PUFF, ASS! s. ryōmen

ৎ୭ sum. puff puff pass, girl — not puff puff ass! you wanted to smoke one last sesh before winter break but sukuna smokes something far sweeter instead - you.

wc. 8.4k

warnings. fem! reader, plug! roommate sukuna, college au, both are in early 20s, unprotected, substance consumption, slooowish burn, virgin! sukuna, switch reader, quickies, pining, sukuna’s a loser fratboy with no game, p whipped sukuna, creampīes, edging, cowgirl, big dick kuna, he lasts 0.5 secs, blōwjobs, dry humping, shotgunning, spīt, dirty talk (he tried), use of "good boy", praise.

“the usual, ‘kuna.”

ah, those three pretty words.

your roommate and all-time favorite plug, sukuna never got tired of hearing it. of course though, not in a million years would he admit the fact—let alone admit that you juuust might be his favorite clientele.

sukuna was the plug.

most of the other students on campus, including you would always buy from him. he was known for selling the best of the fuckin’ best.

despite you having the luxury of sharing a whole dorm with him, he never gave out free handouts, no half off deals, nothing. “what do you mean you won’t be here until january?”

oh shit.

he didn’t like how clingy he sounded.

not one bit.

sukuna mentally grumbles, burying his hands in the pockets of his gray sweats before you respond. “oh, yeah. for break, i’m going on a skiing trip,” and as you’re rambling, his eyes avert toward your lips.

glossed - they brightly shimmered in the flickering dorm room light, and he struggled to focus on what you were even saying.

you spoke every word so sweetly. sukuna even studied the corners of your lips and they’d cutely crease within each syllable—with your brows slightly furrowing at every passing second. “uh- are you even listening, sukuna?”

“yeaah yeah. stupid skiing trip, nice.” he shrugs, feeling a weird feeling bubble up inside him.

with you being gone for two weeks - he’d have no one to annoy, no one to get high with, no one to-

“don’t be a baby. i’m not leaving until in like-” you pause, pulling up your wrist and squinting at your wristwatch. “two hours. in the meantime, we can just have one last sesh together if you want.”

yes, yes, yes!

“fine, whatever.”

it was just an ordinary sunday.

usually, sukuna would be out at some frat party. every year during the winter, there’s this annual gathering before the break where all the years are invited.

you went once during your sophomore year in college with a few friends, and to be honest - it was pretty shitty.

loud crappy music, stale refreshments, the whole college experience shebang.

you stopped attending a while ago, and you probably didn’t really miss much though.

besides if anything—you’d much rather prefer getting high than going to some overrated end-of-the-year party.

“mmh- thanks,” you sigh, desperately needing something to take the edge off.

with finals finally being over, getting blitzed was just what you needed. the two of you sat on the lower spacey bunk bed, and your eyes stared at sukuna’s fingers. he was so focused, claret pupils entirely fixated at the pre-rolled blunt in his hand.

with a near pout, you shrug your shoulders before finishing your sentence, “—and by the way ‘kuna, i can roll one y’know.”

“yeah riiight. last one you rolled was like a kazoo,” he gruffs, snatching a fresh hollowed blunt wrap from his pocket.

from your recent purchases, sukuna always knew your favorite flavor . . cherry rush.

he snickered at the cute ‘lil frown that would soon stretch across your lips, but you knew that was true. sukuna placed the pre-rolled blunt back in his pocket before turning back toward you.

you struggled a bit at the rolling part, but in your mind - you were a pro at taking hits.

“i’ll teach you one day how to master the art of rolling like me. it’ll cost ya extra though, roomie.” sukuna continues, making sure the materials perfectly stuffed inside. he already did the basics.

preparing the flower, chopping down the bud, breaking everything down, and a bunch of other steps. .

it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours..

sukuna had to mash up the substance a bit, churning it with a tiny metal tool before then using the grinder to flatten everything up inside the wrap.

making sure it’s not too bulky, he then starts sprinkling a bit of the green substance inside the center and all around the other parts of the blunt evenly.

he’s neat and precise, making sure it’s enough for two instead of the usual one.

and finally, sukuna’s rolling it..

“watch me,” he hoarsely instructs, and your hands are placed in your lap. his fingers slither toward one end, carefully tucking a piece of the wrap around the substance. stubby thumbs of his that were melting with a bit of stickiness rolled around the sides. he’s shaping it, molding it into its right size so it’s nice and even. “the shapin’ is always important,” and you could already feel yourself starting to get bored.

just shut up and roll it.

is what your intrusive thoughts were trying to get you to blurt out, but you stayed quiet. as you’re still observing, sukuna slightly sticks out his tongue and starts to lick near the dry cracks.

oh.

you couldn’t lie—whenever you saw sukuna licking at certain parts of blunts whenever you two smoked together, it did something to you.

always, dirty thoughts would plague at the very front of your mind, wondering what else he could do with his tongue.

speaking of, sukuna’s tongue’s super duper long too. you could feel your breath hitching the more you watched, silently admiring how his lashes briefly closed each time he blinked.

you wondered if he could lick-

“ahem.” sukuna rolls his eyes, and he wasn’t even licking it anymore. he’s been stopped.

and now, he’s openly staring dead at you, a pink slit brow raised to further express his annoyance.

“sorry, what?” you reply, feeling a hot wave of embarrassment shiver down your entire spine.

oh girl, you’re so fucked.

he definitely saw you staring.

with a disappointed sigh, sukuna gives the chubby rolled blunt a soft pierce with two of his thumbs. “i said, why do you think i’m licking the blunt? tell me why that step of rolling is important.”

“um-” you pause, your mind not at all thinking about the smoke sesh anymore.

all you were thinking about sukuna’s long pink tongue.

you were squeezing your thighs shut the entire time. your knees were folded, digging into the squishy bed frame before you tried to gather up a good answer.

“you lick the sides to…uh-” you stammer, mind blacking out straight away. “…to get a quick taste before it burns?”

“tch. sometimes i wonder why i even get high with you,” sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. as he spoke in that same, husky tone—you could hear a bit of laughter trying to suppress from the back of his throat. “no, girl. i’m licking along the dry areas to help moisten it.”

“oh..” you blink, your mind all in the gutter.

the blunt’s earthy scent starts to fill up the dorm within no time.

it’s that same, strong cherry smell that’s always been your favorite. it’s wholly sweet, and the aroma was just so candied in the air that you could almost taste the tartness already on your tongue.

its smell was quite loud - hence why it was always your preferred choice out of his other flavors.

the scent was sweet but the taste was far sweeter, and the wrap never failed to leave you unsatisfied.

“oh,” sukuna mocks your single response, crimson eyes subtly flickering back into a roll once more. for a moment, you could feel sukuna’s gaze shortly taking in your appearance.

like usual, you wore some nameless brand university t-shirt with shorts on.

maybe you’re batshit crazy, horny- hell, maybe even both, but you could’ve sworn sukuna was gawking at your thighs.

your legs—they were neatly folded back as you sat on your knees. a bit of skin poking from your shorts had slight rips in them and he noticed it straight away.

the cute squish of your thighs coming together every few times you sat upright - so so pretty..

“anyways,” he clears his scratchy, itched throat, burying the image of your thighs away in the back of his mind. you were so close to him that he could practically smell the scent of your shampoo. “ah- you remember how to light, right?”

“mhm.” you gave him a nod, leaning in closer.

the fat blunt remained glued against his fingertips that pressed deeply into the sides. you reached near your nightstand to pull out a lighter, bringing it toward his lips.

sukuna’s viewing you closely, and you felt your weak pulse starting to quicken within seconds.

even though it’s just a small, tiny gesture, sukuna tilts his head down further toward you to reach your level.

sexily, you’re met with his red, darkened stare. pink, overlong bangs were already starting to run down his brows, nearly occluding his vision of you before he swipes his hair away from his face with a hand.

with a clicking, ‘flick!’ the flame brightly ignites, and you start to carefully glide the lighter back ‘n forth under the seam.

then, you start to go around the rest of the blunt, making sure all the parts get lit. sukuna watches as you bring the flame toward the very end of the stick. the smell’s getting even stronger, and sukuna’s stare at your decent lightning work gets him intrigued.

there was a sharp silence, and the only things that could have been heard were outside the dormitory. continuous chatter of other roommates and some pop songs playing in the ambience.

once you two start to actually smoke — you’re both taking turns, sat next to each other and allowing the euphoric high to slowly take over.

puff, puff, pass..

it was simple.

the two of you each got two tokes. since sukuna rolled, it was etiquette that he took the first few hits - then you.

“ugh,” you land on your back against the springy bed, drawing in a sharp breath. your lungs were heavy, and your chest slumped once you started to absorb the lemony puffs of air.

each sucked breath was deep, and every few seconds, you allowed yourself to recuperate from the strong hits.

“been a while,” sukuna speaks again, his voice dripping with a rasp. his throat - it sounds almost grating.

he lies his head back against the bed with you too, slightly craning his head to face you. “gettin’ high with you, i mean.”

passing the blunt back to him, you sleazily grin. “don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.”

“tch. don’t be stupid, never said that,” he instantly replies, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.

you talked so sly, and he noticed how your eyes were starting to droop already. sukuna’s jagged breathing hitched once your head softly thumped against his shoulder.

damn.

“it’s just annoying,” he continues, taking a second to inhale through his nose. a cloud of smoke exits through his nostrils and it’s always satisfying to witness.

your head rubs against the fleece of his sweatshirt before he lets out another dull inhale. once that short milisecond of tunnel vision occurs in his sight, sukuna exhales again—his shoulders slackening.

“ ‘m not gonna have anyone to smoke with for two weeks. and yeah, i could get high by myself but it’s… better with you.”

oh?

you glance up at sukuna’s whose eyes are glued to you. there were faint, noticeable bags underneath his eyes as his eyelids started to become heavy.

his entire face — it’s turning flustered once he realized what the actual fuck he just said.

shit. shit. shit.

“oh… my god,” you cheekily grin, grabbing the burning blunt from him. inhaling for two seconds, you place it between the arc of your fingers. “ ‘kuna, you could’ve just said so. well, if that was the case, i could’ve just canceled my flight and booked for tomorrow morning.”

“really?”

“uh- no, i was joking. do you know how much plane tickets cost? in this economy? please.”

sukuna rolls his eyes at your sass before grumbling. “whatever,” and he’s watching your hits turn into more than just two.

he raises a brow, staring at your pursed lips that were twitching every second as you blew out excess smoke. “oi- stop hoggin’ it. you always do this shit.”

“make me-”

he scoffs, narrowing puffy eyes at you before reaching over.

sukuna’s beefy arm extends to grab the blunt but coincidentally enough - he ends up falling flat on your chest.

you look down at him and there’s a loooong, eerie silence.

nothing was exchanged except intimate, prolonged glances and a subtle loud silence. sukuna gawked at you with fiery pupils occasionally flickering toward the rolled stick that was tightly gripped against your fingers.

he then looks at your lips… so shiny, you rubbed them against each other once you noticed his gaze before taking one more hit.

he stays quiet, watching you inhale before exhaling. “i didn’t know the blunt was on my ches-”

“shut up,” sukuna carps, cutting you off with a sharp tone. he leans in closer—and at that, you start to feel the speed of your heartbeat accelerate. sukuna brings a dry thumb toward your chin, gingerly smearing a circle around your skin before huskily murmuring. “fuck- can i . .”

“do it,” you breathlessly reply, already knowing what he was trying to say. the intense high was swarming you both mildly, and your senses were heightening from each elated breath being drawn.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

instantly, sukuna’s lips crash firmly against yours.

it’s so quick - you barely have time to react, moaning once his tongue dips inside of your mouth. swiftly, sukuna snatches the blunt away from your hand, making his way on top of you.

your arms wrapped around his torso—pulling him closer as you both shared rushed, airy breaths. the cherry flavor lingers in both mouths, tangling with glutinous, sappy saliva and all. “mmgh-” you start to recline back, your left leg slinking around his slim torso.

a throaty groan scratches out of sukuna’s tongue as you hear the occasional ‘claps’ of both lips smacking into each other. every few seconds, it’d pitch louder and louder, and sukuna just couldn’t help himself.

just from his hungry lips, you could tell he’s been wanting to do this for the longest.

he just didn’t want to admit it.

“god-” he grunts against your lips, the tip of his nose softly rubbing against your skin.

yet again, foreheads were stacked right on top of each other, and he felt remains of smoke waft back into his mouth. you tasted so sweet, sweeter than anything he’s ever smoked by a long shot.

“mmh- sukuna,” you moaned, feeling his body in between your wrapped legs starting to grind into you.

it’s slow - his sweats were so soft, nearly tickling against your thighs before it then rubs against something very hard.

that ‘something’ was prodding through his grey pants and he prowls lowly into your neck, sucking against your freely exposed skin. “if.. you wanted to hump me all this time, should’ve just said so.”

“ugh-” he glares, the pink shade gradually painting over his vexed expression clearly betraying his annoyance.

sukuna was a big guy, and the size difference was very much apparent.

his body..

it towers over you, even with you being nearly smushed underneath him. his hips pathetically rolled into you steadily, and he grunts again but this time it’s huskier..

as your legs continued to cage him in with its secure grasp, you feel him stop. “fuck!” his head falls into your chest, and you could see a pout shortly tugging against his lips.

your brows twist into a furrow as you feel his body still itself. sukuna’s hardened bulge still rests between the front of shorts — but it’s . . wet.

heavy, deep pants could be heard from him and then that’s when you started to feel a damp splotch soak near the center of his sweatpants. as you’re still trying to catch your breath, you let off a sheepish, “heh.. ‘kuna.. did you just-”

“yeah, i fuckin’… came,” sukuna grumbles, slit brows contorting as he spoke with such distaste.

his pointed chin rests between the soft valley of your chest before he pinches his forehead. “look- i’m a virgin. i’ve never-”

with a soft-hazed expression, you pat his head. “it’s okay. it happens dummy. don’t uh- feel bad about that,” and his embarrassment leisurely subsides.

you obviously weren’t expecting him to say that.

you figured otherwise.

on campus, sukuna’s highly well-known and very popular. he’s usually seen around frat clubs and parties but wasn’t much social now that you thought about it.

he kept his circle small, and with you being his roommate he grew to get sort of used to your presence whenever the two of you smoked together . . sort of.

“just.. let me,” you quietly reply, shifting your body before getting on top of him. sukuna huffs faintly, placing the blunt near the nearby nightstand before staring at you.

now, you’re straddling him with your perked ass sitting directly above his abrupt cum stain that bled through his sweats. “is this okay? if you don’t feel comfortable we can just finish our sesh.”

“it’s fine,” sukuna swallows, admiring your body before him. even the shorts you wore were such a tease, maybe an ever bigger tease than you.

his eyes ran across the fabric, watching as it perfectly exposed just a nice amount of your ass.

he’s still so hard, and you sitting right on it was only making him ten times more needy. “i want- i want you, screw the damn blunt.”

“okay,” you coo out - your voice sounding like mere heaven.

as sukuna takes a gulp, the roused tent in his sweats pokes out further the more you shimmy your hips around him. closing the distance between you both—you place a wet kiss down the slope of his neck.

he shivers at your touch with one hand trying to reach toward your swaying waist. with a soft ‘whack!’ he scoffs, feeling you swat his hand away. “ah, no touchin’ ‘kuna. you want me to do all the work, remember?”

through gritted teeth, he snarls out a stubborn, “finee,” and he’s already feeling himself starting to melt through his sweats.

you being on top of him - straddling him, it made sukuna sweat bullets. “just- hurry up. ‘m so fuckin’ hard..”

“yeah, i can feel it,” you hush, fishing a hand near his sweatpants.

with a single hand, you yank on the knotted white tie and it quickly becomes loose.

sukuna’s whole physique…

you got a glimpse of his boxers that peeked above his waistline and fuck..

he was ripped, jacked in every way. the ideal fratboy.

the sharpened line of his pelvis looked like it could prick the tip of your finger. “mmh,” you hold in a breath, swerving your hips against his bulged crotch. “are you always this hard whenever we smoke together?”

“haaah? don’t be . . ridiculous,” he pauses, his head tilting back. “fuck- yeah, like thaaat,” sukuna’s voice slows down, and it pitches so low that his mere voice made you throb.

the strip of his boxers was a darkened shade of red, complimenting his maroon eyes. “god- you’re bein’ a tease. just fuck me already, girl.”

as your hand reaches near his boxers, you feel his body shake - erupting violently like an active volcano.

it’s a cruel shudder, with multiple shivers running down his slouched spine as you continue to move on him. your hand was delaying the damn inevitable, taking its time before finally slipping inside his ruined boxers.

“let me touch you- c’mooon,” sukuna continued to speak, his gruff whiny babbles falling on deaf ears. you raise your chin, gifting the bottom of his chin with another kiss. silent ‘mwah’ after ‘mwah’ and it only makes him more frustrated.

as your dominant hand starts to get a good feeling—you wrap your palm around his now pulled-out shaft and he groans.

sukuna’s throat bobs instantly, and you could feel an excited vein prod down a side of his thick cock. “f.. fuck, keep touchin’ it. touch me.”

“you still wanna touch me?” you murmur hotly, his high, drooping eyes filled with cloudy mist returning your glance.

he’s so eager too.

sukuna responds with a nod, coral brows raising in anticipation. “mhm, fine. go ahead.”

with a rough hitch of his breath, sukuna’s callused textured palms finally attach their way toward your hips.

he’s gentle yet firm, rocking you back into place before he moans at the tepid skin-to-skin contact.

you look down at his exposed cock and it’s just so pretty..

sukuna’s shaft was covered with veins - veins, veins galore. your thumb plays with a bit of foreskin, watching it peel back to expose the head and he shuddered from your touch once more.

“mmh..” he sighs deeply, your tender touch nearly hypnotizing him. the top part of his cock’s glans bruised with brightened shades of pink and rosy, hot red.

sukuna’s ridge was tapered too, and you felt yourself sporadically throb once between your open thighs as your curious thumb glided over the long hooking curve.

to top it all off, it’s got a lean to it too.

sukuna’s dick was so big that it could barely hold itself up. you watched as it sort of drooped over.

a tiny, attractive detail that made you release an elated sigh. as sukuna still feels your hand tending to his shaft, he lets out a low grunt. “don’t . . hah- know why we never did this before.”

“because you’re a chicken.”

“tch. girl fuck you.”

“no, fuck you. and i’m going to, relax pretty boy.”

♡ ♡ ♡

you were definitely somethin’ to be reckoned with.

sloppy, chaste kisses created a vertical path down his bare chest. sukuna held up his sweatshirt with one hand as your lips glued against his rock-hard abs that were all on display. you kissed down, down, down..

his abs were just perfectly sculptured - akin to a greek god with how they were just so naturally carved into chiseled, muscular pecs.

the cool air continued to set against his skin as he kept his sweatshirt raised. as your bridge of kisses resumed—sukuna groaned, preparing to sigh once your lips trailed and trailed . . until they eventually stopped at his dick.

it stood tall - slightly tilting forward with how heavy was. squinting a bit, you stared at the tiny hairs of pink that scattered around his stuffed base.

“is this alright?” you mumble through glittery glossed lips, your words so soft it sound like a raspy whisper. his tip was still covered with wetted drips of pre, tearing away at the sides with various white globs.

“ffuuuck- yeah, just do whatever. use your mouth, whatever you’re supposed to do,” sukuna grunts, feeling his core stomach tightening.

the two of you were sitting on the bed with him lying fully down. sukuna’s pants were pulled off now and he’s feeling his dick twitch every time your warm breath fans against his tip.

“mhm, okay,” you reply, rolling out your dripping, wet tongue. sukuna’s eyes immediately lock against you, peering as your tongue hungrily swirls its way around his pulsating crown.

slurrrp after slurrrp, you’re licking up the runny droplets of pre that were racing down all sides.

sukuna shivers, mumbling out a faint ‘ohhh shit’ before drawing in a long breath. each time he did, it felt like his lungs were being pinched from the inside.

you took his breath away,

figuratively and literally.

after all the times he’s smoked, nothing could ever compare to the way your tongue made him feel.

“s.. shit,” sukuna groans. your hand’s wrapped around his dick, and it was a bit limp. it only took you a few seconds (which felt like hours) to lap up his pre-cum before sliding your salivating tongue toward his mushroomy tip.

it’s so colorful - flushed with a burning, bright pink near the very capped head.

you even give it a little kiss, moaning once translucent strands of his pre creates a sloppy concoction with your saliva.

so filthy..

the two words that ran through his mind as he watched your plump-shaped lips.

as you continued, sukuna’s hand found its way toward the top of your head, ogling as you then puckered your lips.

slowly, he stares as your mouth opens up a bit to where it’s agape. you make your way down with his tip brushing past the parched roof of your mouth. he gutturally moans, feeling the scaly-like texture greeting his cock before nodding.

“mmh- your throooat . . feels so fuckin’ good,” he tilts his head back, adam’s apple still bobbing through the center of his larynx.

with sukuna being so big, you couldn’t exactly fit all of it inside.

with your hand still gripped around his hefty-made shaft, your scrunched wet lips gradually made their way to where your fingers rested.

your head’s starting to bob bob bob, and sukuna’s grunting his head off. the slippery, risqué noises were just downright wet - you’re gripping his cock before he feels you angle it further down your throat for a better stretch.

“mmph-” you let off a muffled whine, making sure to wet around his entire cock.

sukuna’s thighs already felt so heavy - they glued down to the bed as your head went up and down, and he just couldn’t look away from you.

the two of you were always smoking together when you both could’ve been doing this instead?

that same question — it kept running through sukuna’s head like a loop.

your mouth.. it kept sukuna’s dick so warm, so wet..

it was just something about the way your head bobbed with those pretty lashes of yours sticking to your eyelids. even your lids were starting to sag, preparing to snap shut at any moment.

your raving rhythm had him getting dizzy within seconds, and sukuna gave your hair a light tug.

“ngh-” you grump, your head pulling forward and it’s almost cute.

sukuna pauses, sheepishly scratching his head. “shit, sorry.. was i-”

“harder, dummy,” you interrupt his apology, saliva dribbling down the center of your chin as your lips briefly departed from his sheen-covered cock. sukuna moans at the lewd sight of you and how you were slobbering all over his cock.

this was the type of image he’d probably fantasize about whenever you weren’t in the dorm and he was by himself. “yank it.”

“eh. f.. fuckin’ kinky girl- fine,” and sukuna manages to grab a good amount of your hair. giving it a nice solid yank like you wanted, your head jerks forward. “mmng-” his nostrils flare for the second time.

sukuna grunts, hearing the wet little ‘ptou’ sounds of you spitting on his tip and lapping it right up.

you’re sucking him off — making him bite his lip, and he starts fucking back against your face until there’s even more glossy drool pouring down your chin.

much to your surprise, sukuna starts to raise his hips into your mouth, hearing strangled moans leave from your throat time and time again. after a few sloppy thrusts of his rolling hips, you took a second to start kissing around his dick again.

torrid, wet kisses ghosted all around his dick and sukuna could already feel his body starting to levitate from your wet lips.

your head - it’s similar to a bobblehead with the way it goes up ‘n down, movements entirely unpredictable.

you use your hand to slovenly twist around his shaft as you suck harder, moaning hoarsely once his bruised tip slams its way against the back of your throat.

it greets your fleshly uvula, and you let off a sweet gargled sound that makes sukuna’s dick twitch.

the single vein that runs down his cock dances against your tongue and you hum, batting your lashes.

he could never deny at all at how pretty you looked.

your cheeks were all puffed - stuffed all because of his dick that’s plugging in and out of your mouth.

sukuna lets off husky grunt after grunt at the back of your tongue skimming over his dick’s top. you’re getting his entire dick wet, not caring at all at how rivulets of your spilling saliva streamed down your chin. not just your chin, but near the cracks of your mouth.

your lips were perfect - they were stretched all out, shaped into a wide circular ‘o’ as you continued to take him down your tight throat.

“hng-” you’d moan, snaking a hand between your legs. sukuna gasped, eyeing you closely as you brought a few fingers of your own toward your puffed, neglected cunt.

you’re soaked, all through your panties too. you reached inside of your shorts, past your underwear before giving your pussy a loving squeeze.

as your mouth’s still occupied, you swiped a thumb over your pulsating clit that’s sobbing for attention.

“f.. fuck, didn’t know you were this nasty, roomie,” sukuna mutters, almost in awe at how you were just playing with yourself while he’s inches deep down your throat.

the downright dirty, racy noises echoed through the thin, dry walls of the dorm — and you prayed no one would hear.

to be specific, you prayed no one would hear sukuna because he was just groaning his lungs out as if he was belting an F5 high note. his voice indeed sounded rough, but every now ‘n then you heard a few cute cracks from your tongue work.

your head still bounces up and down, etching the tip of your tongue down a lightning-shaped vein.

sukuna’s stretchy girth damn near pried your mouth open even more on its own. you’re making sure not to use teeth, moaning at the feeling of your own fingers maneuvering circles against your clit. “ugh- good girl.. good- fffuck,” sukuna praises, feeling his tip stimulate way back toward your uvula for probably the umpteenth time.

he’s in alllll the way, watching as you breathe through your nose. “hah- throat’s just.. perfect for me. thaaaat’s … it, suck it, roomie. suck my.. p- penis.”

oh.. he can always work on dirty talk later.

sukuna’s cock was still sensitive - so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his orgasm’s approaching yet again. it’s a toe-curling feeling that threatens his ego, and a whine slips out.

you’re just so unapologetically sloppy - making out with his tip, slurping up the sides that rained with glittery beads of your spit.

“ahh,” you pop out his dick from your mouth, running your tongue around his tender frenulum.

right there, that moment right there was all it took for sukuna to cum and you knew it too.

“f- fuck, oh fuuuck, ‘m fuckin’ cummin’,” sukuna bites down on his jaw, fingers still dug into your scalp. your head sinks back down as his plump head pounds into your throat before you remove your fingers from the inside of your shorts.

first the tight shortness of breath comes — then, comes the actual release.

sukuna’s shooting down your throat, sprinkling creamy drops of cum on your flatly laid tongue as you look at him with those pretty, fogged eyes.

he already took the initiative to pull his leaking shaft out of your mouth, softly starting to then spank his tip against your greedy tongue.

“mmh-” you hummed again, a purr caught in your throat. it’s raw - and voice sounded a bit raspy, which had of course aroused him even more. this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and as your tongue lays flat — you nod your head. “good, keep hittin’ your tip against my tongue, mhm.”

“tch..” sukuna kisses his teeth, complying with your sinful request.

your lashes prettily fluttered as he’s still spurting out milky strips onto your tongue. the taste was bittersweet, and judging by the pout on your lips once he removed his cock away from the flatness of your tongue, you only wanted more.

panting heavily, sukuna’s abs clench through his fraternity-made sweats. “what?”

“c’mere,” you breathe, every breath you take becoming more strained as air tries to fill into your lungs. sukuna leans his head down to where you were, and his eyes immediately land on the remnants of cum that dribble a bit near the corner of your lip. “lick it off me.”

“hah- you’re a . . nasty little roommate.” sukuna snickered, a hand gently wrapping around the back of your neck. he pulls you in, pressing his lips into yours at full speed.

both lips were like speeding cars — they rammed into each other, the turbo being both lips quickly slamming against ajar, opened mouths.

sukuna grunts, vehemently running his tongue around the side of your mouth that’s covered with a few pearly tears of his cum. the sourly sweet taste again, makes him moan in your mouth, feeling your teeth playfully nip near his bottom lip.

as foreheads forevermore pressed against each other, sukuna drags his tongue near your chin which is also covered with sleek wet slicks.

as sukuna blindly guides his lips back towards your mouth, the open-mouthed kiss lasts for a while, to say the least. he even started sucking on your tongue, savoring the treacly cherry poppin’ taste that scattered all over your tastebuds.

you were a new high sukuna didn’t mind smoking.

♡ ♡ ♡

sukuna was still struggling to breathe - every breath felt more and more raspy with each singular puff.

pink, puffed lips of his were all swollen from your filthy make-out sesh. also though, his dick - his tip specifically, felt like it was on fire.. and the veiny sides were already starting to dry up with pasty splotches of cum.

you had to admit, sukuna looked kinda cute like this..

submissively underneath you with a pout, dripped in sweat everywhere on his body, sinewy muscles tensing with his cock just aching for more..

sukuna’s pink hair was unkempt and ruffled, messed up, and a tiny bit matted.

his once cocky and arrogant ego thrown was straight out the window all because of your throat and the way your raucous hips made him cum through his sweatpants.

sukuna knows you, and he knew you’d never let him live that down for as long as you two were roommates.

“your hoodie,” you bring a thumb above your vaguely dripping chin, smearing it around your sheeny lips. sukuna’s still laid back, and you’re now hovering over his sensitive cream-covered tip. “can i wear it while i ride you?”

“pft. no, it’s a frat-”

“kuna.”

“ughh- fine. better not ruin it,” he grumbles with a glowering scowl, raising his arms.

you help him take off the piece of clothing before putting it over your head, pulling down your t-shit from underneath.

as you do so, sukuna watches intently, feeling yet another vein prod against the right side of his dick. it was just something about seeing you in his clothing, straddling him too.

you’re wearing his fleecy-made frat hoodie as if it was your own and fuck did you look good in it.

sukuna’s breath nearly choked him as he openly stared at you, noticing how it was a bit oversized and practically covered over a nice portion of your thighs. “lie back more.” you utter, a hand grabbing the shared blunt that still rested idly on the nightstand. you’d almost forgotten about it.

right away, sukuna leaned himself back against the lopsided cushioned pillows that squished behind him.

there was just enough room to where your head didn’t hit the bottom of the top bed stacked above.

your hand grabs his hefty curved cock, aligning it against your sopping entrance before pausing. “tell me if it’s too much,” you mumble, bringing the stout blunt toward your lips.

sukuna’s completely shirtless now - and it suddenly gets so quiet that you hear him gulp in anticipation.

“j- just fuck me already,” he prowls rashly, his words turning into an impatient hiss once his beefy arms wrap around your torso.

with an ‘oof,’ you end up landing flat into his chest.

sukuna’s poor creamy tip was crying - it was starting to sob from the very reddened tip with rivulets of precum.

the wait was antagonizing - you were antagonizing.

he just wanted to be inside you, to feel what it’s really, really like.

sukuna fantasized about this exact scenario in more ways than he could count. he was far too stubborn to ever admit that he was too shy to actually be intimate with someone.

but with you, it only felt right.

“let me take another hit first-” you giggle, seeing the glare forming on his face. “geez, okay, okay.”

sukuna kept his eyes on you as you placed the cherry-flavored blunt in between your teeth.

it’s still securely rolled and fat - and you felt one of his hands creeping toward your ass within no time.

you steal another bit anyway,

and with a single addicting puff, a gust of wind whirls its way into your lungs and down your passageway. “f- fuckk..” you sigh, one hand positioning his teary tip against your drooling, drooling slot.

a cloud of smoke emits from your mouth once you breathe out, and sukuna sucks in a raspy drag. “mmg- hurry the fuck up,” he clenched down on his jaw tightly, bottom lip thoughtlessly quivering.

he’s so sensitive—with endorphins crashing through his veins, they sent rocketing shockwaves all down his spine. your cunt was just dangerously slick, and he knew you were teasing just by the way you rubbed your pussy back ‘n forth against his poor cum-dripping cockhead.

“hah- fuckin’ . . put it in- ngh-”

“ask nicely.” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his thick throat.

oh.

sukuna would’ve probably been lying if he said that didn’t turn him on.

your wet cunt was gradually sliding itself against his cock that rested against his tummy.

a big hand then grips onto your bare right ass cheek before he growls under his breath.

“fuck me, or else.”

“no.”

“fuck me, or else…please.”

“still no. also, speak up.”

sukuna glares at your audacity, seeing a small simper preparing to crease against your lips before he sighs in defeat. you were probably even more stubborn than him..

his shoulders slump before he clicks his tongue, clearing his throat. “okaay, roomie. you win- fuck. please, ride me. i- i need it,” and for a moment there, its a bit of vulnerability in sukuna’s tone.

his baritone-pitched voice, it cracks and you could see his left eye twitching.

you’re killing his pride.

but part of that made him more aroused.

“i need . . you.” he concludes, shaky labored breaths leaving from his lips. sukuna groans, feeling you slide a hand down his hardened chest.

the tips of your padded fingers circle his pecs, outlining each vein that decorated his sculpted body.

sukuna was like a candle melting from just your blazing touch. his body was the wax and your fingertips were the flame. his hoodie that you wore only made the entire scene sexier too.

he allowed his crimson gaze to follow toward your chest. the three-letter logo of the fraternity he was in finely stitched against the fabric. it hugged your body flawlessly, and his eyes never left your frame, not even for a minute.

“good boy,” you hum, hearing him nearly choke at your praise.

good boy.

sukuna’s ears perked before he groans, hearing the long-awaited squelch of your pussy ‘slap’ down on him.

your warmth from the inside surprises him, and he whiiiiines out a sweet, elongated mewl of your name. “ugh- fuck,” sukuna hisses, feeling you sink yourself down.

it’s a tight fit at first with an even bigger stretch!

sukuna’s rounded tip alone could barely lodge its way inside, and you had to use both hands just to guide it in the right direction. with the blunt still buried underneath your teeth, you blow smoke in his face. “mmph- open your mouth,” you airily mumble.

taking in the sugary scent—sukuna moans, bringing his lips apart.

once you’re starting to move, it’s over -

with your head going closer toward his face, you take the rolled stick from your lips to blow more smoke… this time, into his mouth.

your hips started to wind up, and he was already bottomed out inside. “taste it,” you whisper, feeling sukuna’s questing tongue already trying to swash around the inside of your cheek.

smoke pours into the right sukuna’s mouth, traveling within both pairs of full lungs before he kisses you deeply.

you’re each sharing smoke between twisted tongues and it’s so filthy..

your warm breath continues to slide against his sukuna’s—feeling his tongue eagerly dip its way inside your mouth.

the sweetened taste of cherry lingers against your buds and his, and between sloppy kisses, you moan. “mhh- there we go, good. just hold my hips again.”

“f.. fuck,” sukuna clicks his tongue, drowsy eyes already rolling back in such immense pleasure.

your pussy had such power - power that even he couldn’t handle because he felt like the entire bed was about to snap into two.

your hips had sukuna hysterical, and he starts fanning himself too. “p- phew, shiiit..” he groans, pink brows curving into a desirous furrow.

you’re swerving, tightly gripping back against his cock like velcro as you started to cling onto the bed’s railing for better leverage. “damn- goddamn, fuuuck me then.”

the high surrounds you both and it’s just pure bliss..

it was like a trip you didn’t want to end, and sukuna felt like he was floating every time your ass wetly slammed back down onto his lap. you’re making his head spin in the best way possible, dozens of gears turning in his empty brain.

“haah- ‘kuna,” you’d moan, hot breath landing against his chin and tickling the tiny hairs that stick against his skin. you’re clenching down on him from the inside, hearing every sticky plap! of skin clash amongst each other.

sukuna was a bit awkward with his hands - they didn’t know where to go.

one moment, they’re glued to your hips and the next, they’re traveling down your thighs. his favorite part though, was your ass.

as you continued to move, sukuna couldn’t help but thumb a few clammy fingers toward the sides of your jouncing rear.

harshly - he gives it a needy squeeze before spanking it, hearing the cute gasping whines drag from your throat.

he’s getting the hang of it.

“c- careful,” you wheeze, watching as he’s taking a puff now. sukuna’s nude chest was already starting to gloss gloss gloss with gallons of sweat. sure—you’ve seen him at the gym but never this sweaty.

with your arms tossing over his tensed shoulders, your weeping cunt flops right against his cock with a few sloppy single thrusts, earning a loud grunt from him. “now ‘m really startin’ to think you’re in love with m-”

“just…shut up.” sukuna grumbles, silencing you with another deep kiss. it’s rough - and out of the many, many kisses you shared with him tonight, this felt more . . different.

sweet, pathetic whimpers elicited from you as your ass repeatedly whacked against his pelvis. sukuna’s lean cock sloppily digs its way through your cunt and you squealed at each vigorous curve.

riiiight thereeee-

he’s found the spot and he didn’t even know it.

your cute little shriek was all that told him though, because as his teeth were sharply striking against yours—he hit that same beloved g-spot again, and again, and again..

“o-ooh!” your back prettily arches like a cat, tangled colorless strands of saliva reluctantly pulling away from each pair of lips.

sukuna’s tip was vast and huge, it easily ran through the taut barrier of your entrance and you drool every time he kisses near your clit.

it’s just so tender..

your pupils were starting to enlarge with your eyes crossing. sukuna’s got the same eyes too from the overwhelming high… but his eyes were a bit bloodshot.

your hips were just so nasty, and he’s grunting every time your sopping pussy sucks him in before spitting him right back out, then in, then out again — a repeated loop of pure fuckin’ filth.

“mmn- ‘m gonna cum,” you whined, gasping once sukuna’s hands grabbed your waist. you both exchanged a look of utter blitzed lust, and sukuna darkly exhaled. your hips buckled in and out, in and out until your hips were just stuttering over him. “k- keep hittin’ me there, baby~ fuuck-”

baby.

sukuna felt his cheeks heat up - the small pet name making him wonder if the two of you were really more than just smoke buddies, more than just roommates..

“hng- me too,” sukuna rasps, feeling the sultry head of his cock burning up to such a smoldering degree.

he’s not just hot there—but all damn over.

you’re maintaining your rapid pace, moaning at the nerves pulsing through your body that steadily got provoked by sukuna’s deep, pivotal thrusts. “god- so fuckin’ perfect. ride me.. hah- ride it like you own it then, ugh-”

your continuous bouncing on sukuna’s lap even has his eyes rolling back too. it’s undeniably sexy, and you felt the sticky grip of his thumbs starting to lessen its hold against your rocky waist.

sukuna’s cock was starting to stiffen within seconds and your cunt was just so swollen, dribbling from every weeping orifice with syrupy amounts of juices.

it’s an all-around mess, and not before long, the smell of your own arousal mixes in with the feeling of your highly anticipated fervor..

the entire dorm was clouded - fogged, bathed in a mix of all scents. scents of pleasure, of cherry, and lots ‘n lots of sweat.

it was hard to see anything except for the two of you and the windows were just covered with steam.

your thighs practically glued to sukuna’s, and as his dick’s still pumping in and out of you, you let off a clamoring squall.

right then - that’s when it happens.

you cling onto him steadfastly, sensuously bucking your animalistic hips into him weakly as your body starts to slow. everything happens in almost slow motion - and if it was one thing for sure, your pussy had sukuna hypnotized.

sukuna’s angered cockhead swabs its way around your beloved g-spot about three more times before he groans too.

much louder than you, and he suppressed his nose (or at least tried to) by delicately biting into your shoulder. your skin’s softness had his tongue hungry, and he was lapping at your skin until it was turning wet all because of him..

the blunt ended up falling out of his mouth, landing on the wooden floor with a faint ‘thump!’

but sukuna could care less though-

he had far more important things to care about,

like how he was shooting literal blanks inside of you, painting your pretty clamping walls with his ivory-white color that hugged him oh-so tight.

sukuna’s gutturally groaning in your ear, moving his mouth away from your shoulder while leaning against your cheek.

you both came at the same time and it almost didn’t even feel real.

your teeth shatter as your hips finally stop moving, and sukuna falls back against the bed.

you’re whimpering loudly, creaming all down his cock as your body’s met with abrupt currents of rippling waves.

instead though—the only wave was your orgasm, crashing down down down..

“ugh-” he moans, lips quivering once more once he feels such wads spitting out of his tip.

it comes out so slowly, thin ropes of cum that leisurely bubble into pearly ribbons of stripes.

sukuna’s heart’s beating out of his chest - pound after pound so loud that he hears the melody through his ears like speakers.

as he’s still trying to get over his most recent finish—his first instinct was to wrap a burly arm around you.

you’re caught off guard by the sudden gesture, but you don’t complain.

he’s still snugly inside so deep, flooding your pussy with a feverishly hot batch of cum that even starts to ooze down between your legs.

you’re both breathing stiffly, sharing labored delayed pants before sukuna cups your chin. “what... are. we.”

“what?” you blink.

sukuna deadpans, a chastened pout compressing his lips before he brings a sloppy two-second kiss to your mouth.

you return it, quietly moaning at the stickiness currently slimed between your cracked-open thighs.

“i don’t.. know,” sukuna pants, bringing a palm near his forehead to wipe a sheet of perspiring sweat away. “this.. us- whatever.. this is,” he waves a hand around to exaggerate. “friends- er- smoke friends don’t just… casually cum in each other.”

“yeah, that’s true,” you jeer, leaning in while sukuna’s still buried swollen balls deep. inching close, you kiss his neck before sweetly whispering. “maybe we’re more then just friends and maybe you’re more than just my plug.”

sukuna scoffs. “hmph. well- you’re still payin’ by the way.”

with an eye roll, you reach near your burgundy-colored nightstand. with a loud ‘whiiir’ it opens, and you pull out a twenty dollar bill of what was the usual price of your purchases.

a bit overpriced but again, you didn’t have the energy to complain.

not when you were so stuffed - leaking with sukuna’s cum drizzling out of your cunt.

“here.” you hand him the crumpled-up dollar bill. sukuna takes it, and his entire face is just flushed.

for once — you see actual color in his usually stoic, emotionless face. who knew it was all because of you and your hips.

sukuna grunts something under his breath, watching as you slide your panties and shorts back on. scarlet eyes did a slow pan from up to down at your body, glancing at his hoodie that you still had on before you grabbed your suitcase underneath your desk.

“wha- you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i’m gonna miss my flight.” you reply, watching sukuna’s lips form into the nth pout of the night. two hours went by so quick, he forgot all about your dumb trip.

not to be dramatic (except sukuna probably was being dramatic) but two weeks without you felt like an eternity.

especially with how good you just made him feel, the replay of the entire scene that just occurred had his mouth shamelessly watering.

going toward the side of the bed where sukuna lay, you press one final wet kiss against his lips.

he grunts, leaning into your tender touch, gasping once your free hand gives his twitching cock a few ‘goodbye’ pumping strokes.

“mmg- don’t go.” you heard him grumble between your lips.

with a soft wet ‘smack’ — both lips hesitantly depart, and you whisper against his ear before leaving. “i’m keeping the hoodie by the way.”