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freakyformula · 2 days ago

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Your First Kiss- MV1, CL16, LN4, LH44

A/N: Okay real talk whoever came up with the idea of combining imagines in one post deserves an award

Warnings: Fluff

Max Verstappen

They were cuddling in each others embrace as they admired the Monaco sunset on his balcony. She had her legs over his, with her head resting on his chest as his arm was protectively wrapped around her.

He pulls his eyes away from the sunset to look at the girl next to him. She was truly divine.

Max disappeared into a state where nothing else mattered besides the rush of love he had for her. "There's so much I want to say, Y/N." He admits as he brushes his thumb over her cheek. His words made her look down at her primly folded hands. His thumb moves to her chin, and he lifts her head up to look at him.

The air was electric as their gazes met. Her slightly opened mouth, and her heavy breaths, indicated that she wanted the same as he did.

"Then say it." She whispers. Max sighs, not sure of where to begin.

His nose tickles her ear as he whispers, "I love you..."

His words made her breath hitch, did she hear that correctly?

"W-what?" She asks, needing to hear his words again.

Max closes the gap, not bothering to answer, and catches her lips. She huffs in surprise, admittedly, and opens her mouth for him, allowing him access to her mouth, and he gladly accepts her offer. His tongue licks her lips, tasting her. "Taste so fucking good, liefje." He whispers as he continues sucking and nibbling on her lower lip.

When they finally part, she is out of breath after the intense makeout session, and she could've sworn that she felt Max heaving too.

"I love you, Y/N." He breaks the silence after a while, still holding her close, kissing her face languidly, making her giggle.

She looks up at him, smiling, "I love you too, Maxie."

And with that, she leans in and gives him another kiss. And another...

Charles Leclerc

The setting Monaco sun warmed her skin as they walked along the harbour. In love, as they were, they held hands, and Charles couldn't help observing her, her shimmering skin and adorable dimples. His usually so controlled lust was wavering by this voluptuous woman walking beside him.

"Charles!" She waves her hand in front of him, snapping her fingers while laughing, finding the whole thing amusing. Charles looked at her with a blank face, confused. She was his muse, he couldn't help indulging in daydreams about her and her gorgeous lips.

He chuckles, "Sorry. I guess I got kind of distracted."

She slowly nods and interlocks her hands with his. "Distracted, huh?" She teases, sticking out her tongue. This was why Charles loved Y/N, she was playful and fierce as a lion cub.

He huffs and takes a step closer, clearly making her nervous, at least judging by the way her breaths become heavier. She gets up on her tiptoes as he looks down on her, the height difference being significant. Her rosy cheeks invited him just as much as her smile, while her eyes were showing off something else, something... Primal. She wanted him, but she was also smart, she wouldn't give in to her desire that easily.

Charles on the other hand, had a nasty fight with his lust, and he felt himself praying to a borrowed god, please let this be the moment. He was pathetically shifting the weight between his feet and licking his lips, as if that would calm them both down.

She smirked at him and came a little closer, coaxing him to kiss her.

Charles felt her warm minty breath (which must have been from the mint chocolate chip ice cream she had for dessert) on his face.

Their love had its own life; tickling, whispering, and annoying them both to madness. They both breathe out until Charles leans in and joins their mouths in a delicate kiss. The kiss was heated, and she quickly allowed him access to her mouth, to explore her every crevice. Their kiss quickly turns into a makeout session, and time seemed to slow down, or in her world, stop. His lips against hers was ecstasy, and she, nor him, could stop.

They didn't separate until a gust of wind hit them, knocking them off balance. The two love birds couldn't help laughing at the bizarre situation, being swept off their feet by their first kiss, and the next second fighting to keep balance as they're literally, in fact, swept off their feet.

Lando Norris

You combed your fingers through his curly locks as the night crept in. Slowly, Lando rubbed her back as he kissed her shoulders up to her neck. "Lando..." She do her best to sound strict but her voice lets her down and his name rolls off her tongue as a whimper.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He whispers between kisses. Shit, he was already hard as a rock... Lando sincerely hoped she didn't notice as he was grinding against her earlier.

"Stop teasing me." She warns, playfully pushing him away. Lando is having none of it and tugs her into his arms again. "C'mere..." He says, leaning in, but pulls away as he notices a tinge of uncertainty on her face. He tuts and pulls her into a hug instead. "You okay, love?"

She takes a moment to process his words and nods. "Yeah."

Lando is left looking at her, feeling unsure.

She sees his expression and moves to sit on him, straddling his hips. Her newfound confidence makes her lean in, scanning him for approval.

Lando moves his hands behind her neck, carefully pulling her closer to him and his face. When they're a few centimetres apart, she stops, unsure of what comes next. He helps her and leans in, softly kissing her on her cheek, and pulls away to check her reaction.

She was in a trance, enchanted by the love she had for him, and crashed into his lips rather violently.

Lando feels his heart swell for the woman grinding down on him, and he grabs her, turning her over so that he's on top. When they part, she looks at him, enlightened, she looks like a new person. This wasn't the same girl; this one, was wild and ready for more.

Lewis Hamilton

"Here, love!" Lewis half runs towards her as she makes her way through the paddock with one goal in mind, Lewis' warm embrace.

"Missed you." Lewis whispers in her ear.

"Lewis, its only been a couple of hours!" She laughs while grabbing his hand. Lewis drags her through the corridors of the motorhome until they see his room. Only then, does Lewis slow down, and slides his arm around her smaller figure. As they both sit down on the sofa, Lewis exhales and all of the stress he had collected during the day melts away in her touch.

"So beautiful..." Lewis compliments her, making her blush. He stares at her in awe, lost in her eyes. He leans in, and she lets out a nervous huff. When he is about to close the gap between them, *knock knock*, and Angela sticks her head inside. "Lewis, time to get ready, qualifying starts in 45 minutes!"

Lewis groans and collapses on the sofa dramatically. You follow him, lying down on his chest. "You better go. I'll be waiting for you."

As they walk Lewis follows her all the way down to the garage with his eyes glued to her behind, much to her amusement. "Good luck, and drive carefully!" She tells him, poking his chest.

"I promise I will." He reassures her. One last hug and he is off to race. She sits down at her designated seat and follows the session closely.

When Lewis gets out of the car, he has one goal in mind, Y/N. He hurriedly walks into the garage, in search of her. "Y/N, I think someone is searching for you." One of the Mercedes staff whispers to her. When she stands up and turns around, he lays his eyes on her.

He instantly knew this was it. The scene was chaotic, as it tends to be after a racing session, but in Lewis' mind, it was calm, only because of her. His rock. He starts walking up to her slowly, with his helmet in his hand that he shoves into a mechanic's arms.

She sees him slowly approaching and slightly panics. She looked around, everyone was looking at either her or him. His eyes though, were glued on her and only her. When he reaches his destination, he pulls her into his arms, squeezing her in a tight hug.

"I can't breathe..." She eventually breaths out.

"Sorry." He quickly lets her go, looking into her eyes with such admiration, it made the whole garage emotional.

"Pole position baby, congr-" She starts but is interrupted by his soft, plump lips. The feeling of her lips on his was hypnotizing, and Lewis felt his inner roots turning into a tickling glow, the kind that would never go cold.

She could hear the whole world swooning around them, and as they parted, Lewis swooned with them while looking at her. She looked around, and the usually nuzzling garage was still. You would have been able to hear a strand of hair falling. She looks back at him, and offers him a faint smile.

Lewis could tell she was nervous, and he slid his arm around her body in order to calm her down, if only just for the moment.

"Thank you, my love. This is the best day I've had in a long time." He concludes.

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boypied · 3 days ago

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MISTER POPULAR.

pairings: fiyero tigelaar x male reader

summary: a love story blooms when fiyero does a simple act of kindness by helping a fellow peer out.

requested by: me ;)

word count: 1,618

mentions: strangers to friends, flirting.

He was the most sought-after guy at Shiz University. He had practically all the girls all over him aswell as the majority of the guys, whether they would willingly admit it or not. Because of his popularity status and your lack of time, he never really noticed you or even looked your way...atleast that is what you thought. You hadn't said one word to him during your first semester at Shiz but you had completely fallen head over hills for him, and you were now too far gone. So what if he was completely full of himself and possibly a bit of a snob? You could tell it was all just an act, but somehow no one else could cause they weren't looking at him for who he was they were looking at him for how he presented himself.

You were running through the Shiz University halls one fateful day as you woke up late, completely sleeping through your personalised ozian alarm clock. You are speeding through until you trip on someone's banana peel skidding across the floor and all your textbooks going flying. You swiftly get up off your face, and you begin picking up all of your books, praying that no one had seen this horrifically embarrassing moment. In the corner of your eye, you see someone strut over and kneel down to give you their hand as you manage to gather all of your textbooks off the floor. You take the kind gentlemen hand and you look up to thank him until you turn a bright shade of red when your eyes meet with Fiyero's.

"F-Fiy..." You try to stutter out, but his name won't leave your mouth. He shakes your hand. "Fiyero Tigelaar," he says confidently as he takes some of the textbooks from your grasp, "you do know we don't have class today.. right?" He says softly as he begins walking back to the dorm area of Shiz. You immediately begin following next to him, practically lost for words that he would even look your way, let alone help you out. He stops outside your dorm room and turns around to face you, "keys?" He asks in a soft tone your eyes meet with his for a moment until you break the gaze and hand him the keys. "Wait... how did you know -" You begin talking for a moment before Fiyero cuts you off, walking inside your bedroom and dropping your books down on your desk, causing a big thud.

This was just the beginning for you both. Over the course of a couple of weeks, Fiyero began to capture little cute moments of you with his Shiz camera that he stole from the photography section of the Univeristy. He still hadn't caught on to the fact that you were in love with him. You tried not to focus on how you felt about him cause simply that this was just enough. His acknowledging you was everything you ever needed. He had a surprise for you that had your stomach in knots thinking about what it could entail. He had his thick veiny hands on your shoulders as he had you blindfolded walking through some sort of grassy area. You could tell by the feeling of the tall grass against your legs.

The feeling of the grass against your legs stopped as you step forward once more, "are you ready" he whispers in your ear feeling his hot breath against your ear made your body shudder beneath his touch, he doesn't understand what he does to you. "I-Im ready," you stutter out nervously as Fiyero practically pulls you down onto some sort of velvety blanket. Light blesses your eyes as he unties the blindfold once it's finally dropped off your face. The first thing to grace your sight is Fiyero..his beautiful blue orbs, the ones that captured you originally were staring right into yours. A small smile on his face as he pulled away from your face, revealing a picnic he had set up for you, away from Shiz University.

Your eyes fill up with tears, and Fiyero immediately leans over the food to get closer to comfort you, "d-did I do something wrong?" He says in a worried tone, but you just laugh through your tears, shaking your head. "No! Not at all, just... no one has ever made me feel like this before." You stutter out as Fiyero's smile brightens you up again as he gently rubs your shoulder sitting down properly again. "I like this spot...it's so quiet and away," Fiyero says in a soft tone as he takes a strawberry and bites it. He looks out into the beautiful corn field ahead of us seeing the Scarecrow that watches over the crops. He brings the half eaten strawberry to your lips. "Take a bite," he says in a soft, quiet tone.

You lean forward slightly, taking a bite out of the same strawberry he has been eating, the mixture of the strawberry with a small portion of his spit was to die for. This is the closest you'll get to kissing him is what ran through your mind, the closest you'll get to tasting him. You swallow the strawberry after savouring the flavour for a strange amount of time but not enough for it to cause Fiyero to become concerned. He watches the way your face fills with pleasure as you swallow the strawberry. He softly nibbles his lip, watching you. You both ate like kings and packed up everything, "sad this is over," you say to him as you turn to face Fiyero. He turns his head slightly to look down, "Don't worry... who says I'm not planning another picnic as we speak." He says as confidence practically drips off him.

You begin walking through the tall, tall grass, feeling it brush against you both. The sun shines on you both perfectly as you stop to face it, this is the moments that are in all those romantic books you read. Golden hour covering your faces, amongst nature and a gentle breeze blowing your hair perfectly. You both lock eyes and Fiyero subconsciously puts his picnic basket on the floor without breaking the eye contact, the tension between you both would be able to be cut with a knife. Fiyero's hands connect to your cheeks as his thumb rubs your smooth supple skin he leans down slightly and connects your lips together.

The world was spinning, all the stars has aligned. You had never felt his fire inside of you before as Fiyero's lips connected to yours, you get up on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck pulling his lips closer to yours. Your bodies pressing against one another, the kiss passionate and beautiful. Fiyero pulls away softly to meet your gaze as a strip of spit still connects your lips, a faint blush crosses over both your cheeks. "Fiyero..." You mumble out in a soft tone as you take his hands, a panic stretches visibly across his face as he pulls away "uh-" is all he can mutter out "sorry I've got to go!" He blurts out in a panic as he scoops up his basket and runs off through the tall grass back to Shiz University.

You eyes follow him as he runs off in a panic, the sun begins to set and the grass darkens as you stand there still frozen in shock about the whole thing. You had the best and first kiss of your life and then Fiyero panicked and ran off, you slowly walk back to Shiz, slumped over and shy you walk back to your dorm room to find that your door is already unlocked and open, your eyes widen as you slowly walk inside. "F-Fiyero?!" You say in shock as he sits there on your bed with tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry!" He repeats himself over and over again between sobs as he stands up to walk over to you, you pull him into your warm embrace "shh...it's okay" you whisper to him aswell as sweet nothings to try and calm him down.

Fiyero snuggles his face against your neck, leaning down to make sure he can. His tear soaked face soaked your neck, you slowly manage to sit you both down on the bed where you comfort him and he tells you why he ran off. "I wasn't expecting us to kiss... I didn't even know I liked- ... I can't say it" he says nervously and embarrassed, you softly smile at him as you take in what he's just said as you gently caress his arm, your hand gently wipes a tear from his cheek. "You don't need to label yourself, just...like who you like" you whisper softly to him as his eyes lighten up slightly and his sniffles quiet down. His hand gently caresses your cheek once again like when you were both in the tall grass, "y/n..." He says in a quiet voice "I...like you" he mumbles out softly as his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

"I've liked you for a while now Fiyero" you openly confess to him as he leans in and gently pecks his lips against yours, both pulling away and smiling softly at eachother. Fiyero pulls you into his warm embrace as he gently caresses your cheek and then running his hand through your hair. "Can we stay like this?" You say softly to him as your face is in his chest as he lays back against your bed, "yes...I'd like that" he say to you as he closes his eyes and enjoys knowing that you there for him, enjoying your warmth, enjoying your presence.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter

#fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x male reader #fiyero tigelaar x male reader smut #x male reader #fanfic #gay #x male y/n #male reader #smut #gay smut #wicked #wicked x male reader #fiyero wicked #lgbtqia

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caitified · 7 hours ago

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Hi can you please try to do Paige x reader wife. Where in they both want to have kids so they do IVF and after a year of trying reader is finally pregnant and Paige is so thrilled. Also, can it please be like first trim, second trim, and last trim until she gives birth? I hope you try this one out please. Thank you so much! And I just want to say how I love your witting!🩷

beginning

paige bueckers x reader

warnings:none, this will be the start of my new paige family series! feel free to drop ideas in my inbox. hope this is ok for you, i can into more detail if you’d like!

the first time you see the positive pregnancy test, you don’t believe it. after months of negative results, doctors’ appointments, and so many nights spent comforting each other when it felt like nothing was working, it doesn’t feel real.

but it is.

you call paige into the bathroom, your hands trembling as you hold the stick. “paige,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

she looks at you, confused for a second, before her eyes fall on the test. when she sees the two pink lines, her face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“oh my god,” she breathes, taking the test from your hands and staring at it, her lips curving into a shaky smile.

“it’s happening,” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks.

paige pulls you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. “we’re having a baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

the first trimester is a mix of excitement and nerves. paige is constantly hovering, making sure you’re eating enough, resting enough, and not lifting anything heavier than a pillow.

“babe, i can carry the groceries,” you laugh one afternoon as she insists on hauling every single bag into the house.

“not a chance,” she replies, grinning. “our baby’s in there, and i’m not taking any risks.”

she spends hours reading parenting books, bookmarking baby names on her phone, and talking to your growing belly even when it’s too early for the baby to hear.

“hi, little one,” she whispers one night, her hand resting gently on your stomach as you lie in bed. “it’s me, your mama. i can’t wait to meet you.”

you can’t help but fall more in love with her every day.

by the second trimester, your bump has started to show, and paige is obsessed.

“look at you,” she says one morning, her hands gently cupping your belly as you get dressed. “you’re glowing.”

“i’m sweating,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but her grin is contagious.

she goes with you to every doctor’s appointment, holding your hand during the ultrasounds and tearing up when you hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

“that’s our baby,” she whispers, her voice full of wonder.

she also becomes extremely protective. when a random person at the grocery store tries to touch your belly, paige steps in with a polite but firm, “please don’t.”

“you’re like a guard dog,” you tease later, and she shrugs, unapologetic.

“i’m just taking care of my girls,” she says, pressing a kiss to your temple.

the third trimester is harder. your back aches, your feet are swollen, and you’re more exhausted than ever. but paige is there for you through it all, rubbing your feet at night, running out to get your weird cravings, and reminding you how beautiful you are even when you don’t feel like it.

“you’re amazing,” she says one night as she helps you settle into bed, her hand resting on your belly. “i don’t know how you’re doing this.”

“because i have you,” you reply, your heart swelling as she leans down to kiss you softly.

she’s the one who sets up the nursery, carefully assembling the crib and decorating the walls with soft colors and tiny basketball decals.

“our kid’s going to be a baller,” she says proudly, and you laugh, knowing she’s probably right.

when the contractions finally start, paige is a mix of nerves and excitement. she holds your hand the entire time, whispering words of encouragement and brushing your hair out of your face.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” she murmurs, her voice steady even though you can see the tears in her eyes. “i’m so proud of you.”

and when your baby is finally born—a tiny, perfect girl—paige is the first to hold her, her hands trembling as she cradles your daughter against her chest.

“she’s perfect,” paige whispers, tears streaming down her face as she looks at you. “thank you. thank you for her.”

you smile, exhausted but so full of love, watching as paige presses a gentle kiss to your daughter’s forehead.

“we did it,” you say softly, and paige nods, her eyes never leaving your baby.

“yeah,” she whispers, her voice full of awe. “we did.”

#paige bueckers imagine #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #uconn wbb #uconn huskies

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livinghalfway · 18 hours ago

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Right Reasons; Wrong Kid

Summary: Batfam thinks Damian is being kidnapped when they see Danny getting manhandled into a car by Vlad; Danny loves to make Vlad's life difficult and puts up a fight getting into the car.

Word Count: 1450

Being in Gotham was the last place Danny wanted to be today, especially when he had to be here with Vlad. The fruitloop had somehow convinced his parents that he should go to this stupid three day business conference with him.

While Danny can't make any decisions right now he can certainly make Vlad regret his. Which is why Danny doesn't feel an ounce of embarrassment at what he is currently doing.

"Daniel, get in the car." Vlad hissed at him with a tight smile as they both stood outside of the building the conference was being hosted in.

"No." He said; even going as far as to take a step backwards to further spite the man in front of him.

It was clear Vlad was losing his patience with him if the subtle flash of red in his eyes is anything to go off of. "Daniel, I won't ask again. Get in the car now, or I can drag you in. The choice is yours, but you will be getting in this car one way or another."

"You really gonna drag a kid into your car in front of all these people you're trying so hard to impress?" Danny looked from side to side at all the people congregating on the sidewalk and steps as they wait for their vehicles to arrive.

"I'm hardly the first person they've seen that has had to deal with a stubborn child refusing to listen." Vlad says as he takes a threatening step forward, "Now get in the car."

"No."

Seemingly annoyed but not surprised Vlad takes a deep breath before his hand, like a snake, strikes forward and grabs a hold of him before beginning to pull. Just as quickly though Danny is trying to pull away with just as much strength. Quickly taking a moment to look around he sees that others are already starting to look in their direction; perfect.

With him distracted though Vlad was able to get a sharp tug on him causing him to stubble towards the car. Before he can fall into the car though Danny is shooting his foot forward, firmly planting it down as his hands land on both sides of the open car door.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, fruitloop. I can't make it too easy for you." Danny teased as he fought against Vlad’s pushing.

Vlad doesn't say anything back to him besides giving a low growl. This situation is clearly not going the way he wanted to and Vlad’s frustration was starting to show, and Danny was determined to watch this man break in front of all these people he so desperately wanted to impress.

He locked his arms and knees when he felt Vlad start pushing harder against his back. Preparing himself to jump to the side the moment Vlad loosened his grip even slightly. What he wasn't prepared for though was for the weight pushing against him to suddenly disappear.

"What is going on here?" A deceivingly friendly voice sounds out behind him.

Before Danny can realize what has just happened though a much stronger hand is gripping his shoulder and yanking him away from the open car door. Finally able to see more than just the car's interior Danny see's that three other men are now standing by the car.

Two of them, a teen not much older than himself and a middle aged man, are standing in front of him as if forming a wall between him and Vlad. Who is being held in place by the third man.

Danny can see that Vlad was just as thrown off by these strangers as he is based on the startled look on his face. What confuses him though is when instead of becoming angry like he expects Vlad only looks surprised as he takes in the three guys with them.

"Bruce Wayne!" Vlad announces with a tight grin, "I was just trying to get my son to cooperate with me and get in the car. I'm sure you understand how teenage boys are."

"I'm not your son!" Danny instinctively yells out; no way in hell was he going to let Vlad tell people they were any way related.

It took him a second to register what name Vlad had even said.

Bruce Wayne? He remembers Sam and Tucker talking about that guy and his family when they found out he was going to Gotham. Which means if he's remembering correctly then the young man next to Vlad is most likely Dick Grayson and the older teen next to him is Tim Drake.

Without looking at him Bruce leans towards him and whispers, "Shh Damian, let me handle this."

Wait. What?

"I'm not-" Danny tried to say that his name wasn't Damian, but was quickly interrupted before he could.

"Damian, quiet." Bruce lowly growls; still not moving his gaze to look at Danny. "Actually, Mr. Masters, you'll find that this is my son, and I don't think you should be putting your hands on him."

Vlad looks from Bruce to Danny and then back to Bruce, "While I do agree that you and Daniel share some resemblance this is not your son Mr. Wayne."

It seems Bruce wasn't going to entertain Vlad's "lie" because he still doesn't bother to even look at Danny. Tim on the other hand seems to consider what Vlad said, and turns to actually look at his face.

Danny almost laughs out loud when he sees shock immediately overtake Tim's face. At least one of these fruit loops is smart enough to recognize that he isn't the youngest Wayne.

"Bruce, this isn't Damian." Tim states with wide eyes still locked with his.

Upon hearing this the other two Wayne's finally take a hard look at Danny for themselves.

"Oh my God B, that's not Damian!" Dick exclaims before releasing his hold on Vlad.

Bruce on the other hand is frozen in shock as he stares at Danny as he comes to the realization that the boy in front of him is in fact not his youngest son. Snapping himself out of his stupor, the older man finally addresses Vlad. "Mr. Masters, my deepest apologies. It seems this young man and my son look remarkably alike, and I assumed the worst when I saw him fighting to get into the car."

Vlad takes a step forward towards Danny clear with his intentions of getting them into the car now, but before he can grab him Bruce is once more taking a step in front of Danny. "I would actually like to have a quick word with Daniel if you won't mind."

"And why is that?"

"I have a son his age after all, maybe I can help ease this teenage rebellion phase, and cause less fights when it comes to getting in the car."

Danny must have been more focused on the growing argument in front of him more than he thought because he ends up slightly jumping when he feels a sudden hand on his shoulder. Looking to his right he sees that Dick is now standing next him with a soft smile. "Daniel, right?"

“Danny actually, and you’re Dick?”

"Yup! That's me," He gestures to the boy standing on Danny's other side, "and this is Tim. Sorry about all this; we thought our brother was being kidnapped."

"Do I seriously look that much like him?" At this point Danny had to meet Damian if the guy's family was even confusing the two of them.

Tim is giving him a concentrated look when he replies, "It's like the two of you could be twins or maybe even clones. The eye color is the biggest difference between the two of you."

If Danny didn't know any better he would think Tim was accusing him of being a clone based on the tone of his voice. He knew Gotham was weird, but he didn't think he would have to worry about cloning here. "While I was adopted when I was pretty young, but I think I'd know if I had a twin or if I was a clone."

"Crazy things happen all the time in Gotham."

Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all. Danny can't believe saying this, but it's probably time to get Vlad's attention and get the hell out of here. He already has one crazy fruitloop to worry about; he doesn't need more. "Vlad, I think we really need to-."

“Father, what is the meaning of all this?” A new voice interrupts him, and when he sees who it is truly shocking to see a mirror of his own face. The other is also now looking at him with something akin to shock and grief.

“Damian?”

“Danyal.”

#dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #Damian and Danny are twins #danny phantom #batfam

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bring-forth-his-sac · 2 days ago

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All The Way

Summary: You’ve always told yourself the reason you would never hook up with Negan is because of his uncommitted, womanizer personality, but after a steamy night together, the tables turn and you’re the one running.

Is this the aftermath of a one night stand, or the beginning of something new?

Pairing: Saviors Era Negan x f!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: !NSFW! smut, one night stand, morning after, emotionally stunted idiots in love, hypocrisy, alcohol consumption, shame and conflicting emotions

Everything hurts... well, one area in particular.

Without moving, you know he’s there. His steady breath against the side of your neck tells you he’s still asleep, having not moved an inch from the night before.

There’s a part of you that’s truly relieved to have woken up first. You didn’t really think this part through but making sure he stays asleep seems like a good start.

Despite the warm bed practically begging you to stay, you cautiously slide yourself out from the sheets. You keep your movements slow and practical, taking as much time as necessary to remove Negan’s arm from your torso.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that Negan would make this whole ‘morning after’ thing a living nightmare for you, and so taking your leave now is the best solution.

Once you grab your clothes, the rest is easy. Hiking your panties and jeans back up, you notice two empty glasses on his nightstand. You remember only having one drink last night but you nursed it throughout, wanting to take the edge off.

Negan had about two glasses of whiskey, which made him more talkative than usual — if that’s even possible. What started off as you venting to him, slowly turned into him venting to you and then, somehow, you both ended up bed.

As much as you want to regret your choices, you can’t. There’s something undeniably magnetic about Negan, a charisma that pulls you in like a moth to a flame. His laughter is contagious and when he flashes you that big grin, the rest of the world fades away.

That’s what last night felt like, as if it was just the two of you left in the world, too busy enjoying your bubble of shared giggles to care. Even with his reputation as a womanizer, you can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest when his attention is on you.

You know Negan wouldn’t hurt you on purpose but he’s a man with not just one, but multiple wives. He has always been vocal about having no issue with getting more wives but that just isn’t you.

Up until last night, that’s why you were hesitant to get involved with him. It’s why you would ignore the glimmer in his eyes whenever he looked at you, chalking it up to being a part of his game.

Now that the inevitable has finally happened, here you are, scrambling to cover your tracks and trying to erase the memories of the night before. You already know that you’ll be another notch on his bedpost, another woman for him to smirk at in the hallways as you both reminisce about your short lived fling.

Congrats, you're just another woman Negan successfully talked into bed.

Sure, you held out a lot longer than most but it still happened. You can feel your cheeks warming up as you sneak out of his room and down the corridor. Skipping some of the steps as you hop down the stairs, you let out a long sigh…

Negan licked his lips, his voice low and husky. “You’re so beautiful when you let yourself go, Sweetness,” he encouraged, his hand moving to cup one of your breasts. As he scattered light kisses up the side of your face, he promised to make up for the “damn shitty day” you had dealing with some of the other Saviors.

Nope. You shake your head, snapping yourself back to the present. Last night is something you do not need to replay in your head.

When you make it to the lower level of the Sanctuary, you’re met with swarms of people going about their daily business. Shit, you don’t even know what time it is!

Walking swiftly to the makeshift cafeteria, you ignore the dull ache in your lower stomach. The humid air clings to your skin, making your clothes stick uncomfortably.

As you pass the workers already prepping for lunch, you realise you’ve completely missed breakfast. A grunt escapes your lips as you see no food, not even any scraps left from the morning rush.

Once you both made it to the bed, clothes were carelessly tossed everywhere. “Now, how about we move onto the main course, hm?” he smirked, his hand sliding down your body and teasingly brushing against your sensitive folds “That what you want, baby?”.

Negan chuckled at your eager moan in response, his fingers finally entering your wet heat. He pumped his fingers in and out, stretching your tight opening and making you perform a symphony of whimpers. He was in no hurry, knowing he had all night to take his time. Negan brought his mouth to your ear, whispering the filthiest sweet nothings you’ve ever heard.

Shaking your head, you almost tell yourself out loud to stop. Yes, it’s a good idea to think about something else to distract yourself from the hunger but don’t think about that!

Negan groaned, his cock finally pressing against your entrance. Slowly, he pushed inside, filling you up. You gasped, clutching the bedsheet beneath you as he went deeper. Negan was there to comfort you, his determination unrelenting as he put his hand on top of yours, silently reassuring you that he was there with you – all the way.

Goddammit.

Reminding yourself about last night will only make it worse whenever you inevitably see Negan. In fact, that’ll only give him the satisfaction he wants!

Frowning at yourself, you make your way outside. The blinding sun doesn’t bother you as much as it usually does, your mind too preoccupied by the simple task of trying to walk straight. But your distracted state doesn’t last long.

“Hey!” One of the newer Saviors jogs up to you and you try to remember his name “I thought you were going on watch an hour ago”.

“Oh, shit,” you run a hand down your face “sorry about that, I’m all over the place today”. You give a small laugh, hoping to ease things over quickly.

He huffs but doesn’t contest your excuse, simply passing you the rifle slung over his shoulder “Well, here. You’re on until dinner. DJ said he’ll watch the northern side so you’re by the fence on the east side, got it?”.

Fantastic. Now you’re going to miss lunch too.

“Hey,” the Savior snaps you out of your thoughts before you can wander too far “you with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah” you reply, hoisting the rifle over your shoulder “I’m good”. You give him a firm nod, trying to seem less distracted.

“Alright, shouldn’t be that hard, y’gotta just watch the fence” he also nods, giving you a once over before he starts to walk away.

With a tight lipped smile, you stroll over to your position.

His thrusts got harder, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he pushes the entirety of his cock into you, over and over again. Negan’s other hand slid down between your legs, teasing your clit. "Like I got heaven wrapped around my dick,” Negan panted heavily as he grasped your thigh, pulling your leg up firmly against his shoulder.

“Oh god,” you gasped, your back arching off the bed.

“Fuck, I've wanted to be buried in your sweet cunt for so long. Who’s making you moan, baby? Tell me who…”

It’s a miracle you didn’t drop dead right then and there as the memories flash before your eyes. If you can’t even think back to last night without getting all flustered, how will you handle it when Negan is purposefully trying to get under your skin?

You shift uncomfortably at what your future encounters with Negan might be like. A small voice in the back of your mind sows seeds of doubt. Maybe the other women who Negan has managed to catch in his venus flytrap will be able to tell you’re the newest casualty that landed in his snare.

Maybe they’ll show pity or maybe they’ll just be glad he’s done toying with you and hope he might go back to showing one of them attention instead…

No memories come flooding back this time, the dread of seeing him again overwhelming you. Wandering off to one of the quieter parts of the fence, the levity of your impulsive decision starts to set in.

Mindlessly playing with the strap of the rifle, you wonder if you could stay out here until night or if it’s possible to avoid him forever.

“Fuck…” you curse yourself.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

For the first time in a long time, Negan has a smile on his face when he wakes up. Despite all he has in this new world order, this is a rarity for him.

He may not know what’ll happen today, tomorrow, next week or even next year but he’s damn sure he knows who’s beside him now.

Negan doesn’t need to open his eyes to know it’s already late in the day. But who could blame him for sleeping in? Especially with the workout you both had last night.

He bucked up into you as you bounced on his cock, meeting you each time. “That’s it, baby” Negan cooed, driving his hips up erratically “Wanna feel ya squeeze me".

He smiles at the fond memories, hoping to make some new ones once you have some food first. He’s well aware you’ll both need the energy.

Negan sprawls his arm across his bed, trying to feel for your warm body. Funnily enough, he always pegged you as a cuddler but the lack of spooning tells him otherwise.

His eyebrows knit together as he runs his arm across the bed again, unable to find you. Negan begrudgingly opens his eyes, expecting to see you somewhere on the bed but he’s greeted by empty sheets. This doesn’t dampen his mood though, if anything, it makes him think he’s picked a real winner.

You’re already up and going to grab him some breakfast downstairs? Negan knows he’s being spoiled.

"Fuck, you’re incredible," Negan groaned against your lips, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

A smug smile spreads across his face. Perfect. Everything is perfect. Except, if he’s to nitpick, there’s a lack of smell.

There’s no mouth watering waft of bacon reaching his nose or smell of eggs gracing his morning. Though, Negan is quick to dismiss his concerns, chalking it up to you taking your sweet ass time so you don’t drop the food on the way up to his room.

He stretches out, going full spread eagle as he lays naked and waiting. A part of him still can’t believe you finally let last night happen. If you were to ask him, Negan thinks you both did that whole ‘will they, won’t they’ thing for far too long. It was about time he got to give you a good show.

And now you can both eat some breakfast when you get back, fuck again, then Negan knows he’ll probably have to shout at some pricks, make sure Simon can handle shit for the day and afterwards, fuck you yet again.

Now, that sounds like one fantastic day to him.

Negan closes his eyes as he waits, feeling a strange wave of peace that he hasn’t felt in years, even when the world was still working. He thinks of you, your body, the way you came undone again and again — all thanks to him.

You stayed on his lap despite your juices seeping down from your core and leaving a glaze on Negan’s thighs. He kept his arms around you the whole time, rubbing your back soothingly. His hands slowly drifted down to your ass, gently squeezing and massaging as you rested on top of him.

“You feel so good,” Negan murmured, his voice hoarse from exertion.

“I don’t think I’ve been fucked that good since… well, since forever” You said honestly, pressing your lips to his. Rolling you on to your side, Negan let his duvet envelop you both. You moaned softly as you felt him slowly softening inside you.

“You give me a few minutes to recharge and I’ll be ready for round… three? Four?” Negan raised an eyebrow, the passion of the night blurring together. You giggled, tracing a finger down the side of his face “Pretty sure it’s round three. You sure you’ll be able to keep up?”.

Negan gave you a glare. “Damn right I am” he said, his voice filled with playful determination.

“Boss? I know you’re not dead because you’re not trying to bite my face off,” the not so sexy voice of Simon wakes him.

Negan grunts, opening an eye to look at his second in command as he subtly makes sure his body is covered under the sheets.

“There a reason you’re trying to perv on me, Si?” he huffs, running a hand down his face. Your absence doesn’t go unnoticed by Negan, even with the abrupt interruption of Simon.

Simon stays rooted at the door frame, not daring to enter his bedroom any further. “Well, the lieutenants have been up my ass wondering where you are and nobody else has seen you today so I thought I’d come check on ya… seems like you had quite the mighty night” he replies.

Negan nods, a smirk on his face as he can’t help but brag, his bruised ego from you leaving slowly recovering. “What do you expect from a guy that has more wives than shits to give?” his grin says it all.

Simon barks out a laugh, letting a short silence simmer before eventually sighing.

“Funny, I already checked with them,” he reveals “and I’m sure those girls are fun… but they said they haven’t seen you since yesterday afternoon”.

Negan hums, losing some of his friendliness. He hates when Simon does this. Just because he’s second in command doesn't mean he needs to overstep. Sometimes minding his own damn business is the preferable option.

Letting his head fall back on to his pillow, Negan lets out a groan. “What time is it?” he makes a poor attempt to change the subject.

“Just past five”.

“Are you fuckin’ shitting me?” Negan grunts, huffing as he reluctantly moves. Shifting, he lets the blankets pool around his waist as he scans the floor for his clothes.

“You waited this fucking long before coming to check everything’s alright?” He starts to lecture Simon, reaching out to yank his boxers up from the floor.

Simon faces the door to give him some privacy. “Thought you’d need the sleep, boss,” he replies “and it looks like I was right considering you were sleeping like a log when I came in”.

Negan snorts, muttering curses under his breath as he pulls his jeans on. “Well, thank you for your concern, Si” he grumbles, his tone sharp with sarcasm.

He stands, fumbling with his belt. “But the next time my ass isn’t downstairs for the morning meeting, you come get me. Hell, what if something was going on? Could’ve been a fucking riot for all I know” Negan continues to rant on.

Simon shrugs, his gaze trained on Negan now that he has some modesty “Everyone’s fine. No one’s started a mutiny yet.”

Negan lets out a long breath, not bothering to hide the irritation creeping into his voice. “Yeah, well, just cause it’s fine doesn’t mean shit’s smooth” He grabs a shirt from the pile of clothes on his armchair and pulls it on, the fabric rough against his skin.

Negan runs a hand through his hair, snatching his leather jacket before pacing towards the door. He reaches out to grab Lucille and Simon moves just in time for Negan to pass by without a word. Left standing there, Simon watches as Negan storms off, his mind clearly elsewhere.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It’s just after dinner when he appears. You’ve slowly started to relax, the hot meal you decided to splurge your points on making you ease into the evening. And of course, just as your guard comes down is when Negan has to make an appearance.

Like a wave, all residents of the Sanctuary kneel as Negan bodes overhead, making his way along one of the high up walkways. You have to force your body to join the crowd.

Head down, knee bent and unmoving.

You act as if your tyrannical (and great in the sac) leader is a dinosaur that can sense movement. Or fear.

You stay still. Everyone simply waits.

Negan stands tall, Lucille present over his shoulder as he peers down, trying to pick you out from the crowd. He scans his sea of followers, a frown slowly settling on his face. The more Negan thinks about it, the more apparent his annoyance is.

After making him wait for so long, you just vanish the next morning? Not even a thank you? Negan huffs.

He has a goddamn empire to run, the last thing he needs to be dealing with is non-committed people; whether that be Saviors who can’t deal with shit when they need to or you deciding to high tail it out of his bedroom.

You can feel your legs shake, the pounding you got last night not helping your need to stay still. The more you try to force your body still, the more it yearns to move.

The silence stretches on until finally, Negan speaks “Alright, listen up you fuckers”.

You shut your eyes. Great, this is exactly what you need. A speech.

“I know shit’s been tough but hey, look at us! Persevering. Ain’t that the life, huh? We are doing good!” He exclaims, his eyes trying to study each person, a task that’s harder than it sounds when most refuse to look him in the eye “And I want each and every one of you to know, I am getting the job done for you! I’m getting my hands dirty, no matter how tight it might get. I go all in”.

You can’t help but shift, slightly uncomfortable at his wording. Suddenly his speeches have a certain edge to them.

His eyes immediately go to you, watching as you roll your shoulders, head remaining down. Negan smirks, no longer caring about speeches now that he’s won his game of Where’s Waldo.

“So let’s not waste any more time. Keep it tight, keep it hot and keep fuckin’ moving. Go!” he quickly wraps it up.

By the time everyone has scrambled back up to their feet, Negan’s on the stairs. His boots clank under each step, like a warning bell going off every time he moves closer. You stand and look, his eyes meeting yours in a stare off like no other.

His mouth juts out into a pout, his gaze hard and unwavering. You’d almost find the look endearing if it wasn’t directed at you.

Spinning on your heels, you rush out of the open room and into the smaller corridors of the Sanctuary. You don’t need to have some awkward confrontation, especially in a crowded room. It’s too exposing, even if the others don’t catch on to what’s happened between you both.

You weave through the corridors of the Sanctuary, purposefully making your direction confusing. You go up some stairwells just to dart along the floor and go back down the other set of stairs on the opposite side of the building. The last thing you want is Negan to follow you.

Your footsteps echo off the cold concrete floor. The dim overhead lights casts long, flickering shadows that play tricks on your eyes. The air feels suffocating but when you stop and listen for any following footsteps, the stillness only deepens and the silence stays.

It takes a while but eventually you manage to loop around and make it back to your room. Some Saviors mill around but you take no notice, so close to the only place in this godforsaken building you can stop running and actually breathe.

In your room, you’ll have time to think, time to plan out what to do next and how to get past everything that has happened.

You open your door, a long huff pre-emptively leaving your lips at the stresses of the day. But it’s not over yet.

There, Negan stands in the middle of your room, glancing your way as the door opens. After all that, you walk straight to him.

“W-what are you doing here?” you ask as if he doesn’t have the right to waltz into any room in his Sanctuary.

“What do you think?” he scoffs “Knew you’d come running in here to hide from me”. Negan takes a few steps closer, glaring down at you as he gently pushes the door shut with Lucille.

That suffocating feeling comes back, running up your spine and wrapping around your throat. It’s a heavy weight when you lay eyes on Negan and the first thing you want to do is run. It doesn’t matter how silly or embarrassing it may be, the idea still seems enticing.

Yet despite your nervous disposition, Negan smirks, smug to have caught you off guard.

You freeze, unsure what to do now that you’re within Lucille’s range. Even with all that has happened between you both in the past 24 hours, you know better than to relax when Lucille is so close.

“So what’s the deal? Couldn’t even stick around to have a bedroom rodeo the morning after?” Negan says, his tone utterly mocking.

You eye the bat and unfortunately, he notices.

He lets out the ghost of a chuckle as he adds “Damn, doll, now you got me wondering if you’re that scared of commitment or maybe your scared you’ve upset dear ol’ Lucille here”.

You know Negan well enough to understand what he wants. He’s egging you on, yearning for you to blow up in his face and give him the argument he desires. It’s frustrating to know that’s his angle but what makes it worse is that you give in.

“You’re going to act as if I’m the problem?” your temper flares at his audacity “Act as if I’m the one who’s scared of commitment?! Really, Mr-Ten-Wives?”.

Negan narrows his eyes, not appreciating that comment but keeping his mocking tone nonetheless. “It’s six wives, actually. And if you took the time to actually get to know me instead of just wanting to get into my pants, maybe you’d know that” his voice is laced with sarcasm.

At this point, there’s little holding you back from socking him in his handsome face. How dare he! First, his issue was that you wouldn’t jump into bed with him but now he’s acting as if that’s all you wanted?!

Even if there's a part of you that might be afraid of commitment, the idea of Negan of all people calling you out on it feels wrong.

It doesn't matter if he’s right, he’s being an asshole. The last thing you want to do now is concede his point, especially when Negan will only see it as a victory thanks to his taunting.

“So what?” you throw your hands up as you begin to pace, wanting some distance from him “You wanted me to stay this morning so I could listen to you snore and then stroke your ego when you finally wake up?”.

Letting Lucille rest against the wall, Negan shrugs.

“Well, I was kinda thinking you could stroke something else,” he smirks, thinking back to how he imagined the morning going. Negan chuckles, his tongue running over his teeth as he gets lost in his fantasy. You glare, not wanting to even think about what’s going through his head.

His eyes flicker over you for a moment, sighing when he sees your stern expression.

Pushing his lewd thoughts away, he continues “Look, sweetheart, we both know I'm not winning any ‘Lover of the Year' awards when it comes to the emotional side of things, but at least I don't skedaddle when things get too real".

This is the part of Negan you equally love and hate; his honesty. Given his larger-than-life persona, you'd expect his ego to stop him from accepting when he's wrong but instead, Negan possesses the rare ability known as humility.

It’s one not many Saviors seem to possess but that’s what lends weight to Negan’s opinion, making it harder to dismiss as the musings of an egomaniac. Besides the rare occasion, you know when Negan confronts you on something, he tends to have a point.

That doesn’t make this any easier. If anything, it makes you want to dig your heels in more. If he’s going to hold a mirror up to your own flaws, why not do the same to him?

"And if I did skedaddle,” you admit flippantly, “have you thought that maybe it’s because I didn’t want to be waking up next to a grown ass man that’s scared of being vulnerable? Of letting anyone get too close or of actually feeling anything!”.

Negan’s face hardens, his jaw becoming rigid. For a moment, you’re glad he’s no longer holding Lucille.

"You think I’m scared of feeling?” his voice drops low, dark with a mix of anger and something else “Sweetheart, I’ve been through hell and back. Damn fuckin’ right I’m careful who I let in."

A silence stretches between you, thick and heavy. You don’t fire back with some snappy retort just to fill the space. Instead, you look at him, quiet for a long moment, then finally murmur, "But you let me in".

Neither of you speak, allowing for the tension to shift. The sharp look in your eyes loses its power. The anger starts to soften around you both, like a storm that has run its course.

It’s as if the brief pause pulls you out of the whirlwind, giving you time to stop before you say something you can’t take back. A tiny, flickering awareness that this fight is pointless hits you both.

“I did,” Negan agrees after a moment “course I trust you, baby. Hell, even after this shit, I know I can still turn to you”.

You sigh, allow your vulnerable side to rear its head. You wrap your arms around yourself as you think before you speak.

“Negan, you know I like you and I had a good time last night…” you try to get the words out “but it��s a lot, y’know? I don’t want last night to fuck up our friendship and I’m not the type of girl to get involved with a guy that has te– six wives”.

His lips tug up but this time it isn’t a smirk. It’s a small smile as he comes closer, his hands stretched out as he gently takes hold of your arms. “Hate to break it to ya, but you already involved yourself with a guy like that,” there’s a sincerity in his eyes and you can’t help but want to give him every benefit of a doubt.

“Good news is…” he continues “you picked one handsome motherfucker to get involved with, darlin’”.

You give a quick laugh but you don’t deny his claim. Nor do you try to break free from his grasp.

This isn’t like before. Neither of you rush it. In fact, it seems like the opposite of your first time with Negan. This isn’t an intense bout of passion. This is relaxed, a comfort between you both as your lips met in a tentative kiss.

The lingering frustration dissolves with each passing second. Negan’s hands move up and cup your face tenderly as your lips meet over and over again, parting gently to allow your tongues to dance together.

The kiss is slow, a sensuous exploration that sends warmth through you. Your breaths mingle, hearts beating faster as you once again get lost in each other.

Acting on instinct, your hands go for his jacket, easing it off his shoulders as you blindly guide him towards your bed. Negan goes for your jeans, popping open the button before slowly drawing the zipper down.

Clothes scatter the room, shoes getting kicked off and t-shirts being flung onto the floor.

In one swift motion, Negan grasps your hips and brings you down onto the bed. You land softly among the blankets and pillows, a surprised laugh escaping your lips.

“You gonna make it up to me for your disappearing act?” Negan asks, leaning over you as he leaves rough kisses along your neck.

“Depends,” you run your hands through his hair “you gonna make it up to me for breaking into my room?”.

He chuckles, the low rumbling sending pleasant vibrations tingling across your skin. “I guess we’ll be here for a while then…” he replies, his eyes finding yours before he continues down further.

And just like that, you end up exactly where you were the night before, unable to resist the temptation that is Negan.

As he kisses down from your collar bone to in between your breasts you try to give yourself some credit. Technically, this isn’t the exact same predicament as the night before.

This time, it’s your bed.

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ginxyy · 3 days ago

Text

First Snow

It’s been snowing in the UK so now i feel some type of way about Seungcheol in the snow

The first whispers of winter ripple through the vibrant streets of Seoul, where the city breathes in a dance of shimmering lights and festivities. You pull your cozy scarf tighter around your neck, glancing up at the sky as the first delicate flakes of snow begin to drift lazily from above. Each flake is like a wish falling from the heavens, gently thickening until they blanket the ground in a soft, white embrace. It’s the magical beginning of the season, and something stirs within you an adventurous spirit longing for serendipity.

You slip on your gloves, feeling the chill bite at your fingertips, yet the thrill of a night wrapped in snow entices you out of the warmth of your home and into the heart of the city. The sounds of laughter and chatter fill the air as couples stroll hand in hand, their cheeks flushed from the winter chill. You stroll through the streets, mesmerized by the warm glow of shop windows adorned with twinkling lights, feeling the world begin to make its own kind of magic around you.

As you make your way to a nearby park, the snow piles higher, cushioning your steps. The familiar scent of roasted chestnuts wafts in the air, drawing a smile across your face. You find solace within the park's serene embrace, the city’s bustling life muted by the soft blanket of snow. You take a moment to breathe in the freezing air, your heart alight with the enchantment surrounding you.

Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a playful bark that cuts through the captivating silence. A frisky Maltese , fur flecked with snowflakes, bounds toward you, tail wagging furiously. You kneel down instinctively, feeling an irresistible pull to meet this exuberant creature. “Hey there, buddy! Aren’t you a sight in this cold?” you say, laughter spilling from your lips as the dog playsfully nudges your hand with his nose.

At that moment, a figure emerges from behind the trees, and your heart skips a beat. He’s taller than you expected, his smile warm and inviting as he calls out gently,” Kkuma! Come back here!” It’s Seungcheol, from Seventeen. You recognize him instantly, no longer just a name spoken in fervent whispers among friends but a living, breathing embodiment of the boy who has captured your attention countless times across your screen.

“Is this little girl bothering you?” he asks, strolling closer, his voice smooth and endearing.

You shake your head, unable to stop the shy smile creeping onto your face. “Not at all! She’s adorable.”

Seungcheol kneels to join Kkuma, tousling the dog’s fur as he explains, “She loves the snow. It’s her first winter too.” There’s a warmth in the way he speaks, a brightness that effortlessly draws you in. You find yourself leaning closer, your heart fluttering like the snowflakes drifting from above.

“I can see that! It’s a beautiful night to be out. Is it your first snow of the season too?” you ask, genuinely curious. The small talk turns easily into deeper conversations, as if you’ve known each other longer than this fleeting encounter.

As the dos and the cold air speed your words between you, you discover shared stories about childhood adventures in winter’s revelry and dreams that flicker like the distant city lights. Each laugh shared weaves a thread of connection, and with each passing moment, you can feel the time stretching and bending around you, almost as if the world has paused to allow this fragment of enchantment to unfold.

“Do you have plans for the evening?” you venture, your heart racing at the possibilities. The night feels alive with electricity, the air thick with the scent of impending romance. Seungcheol looks thoughtful, his gaze locking onto yours, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“Actually, I don’t,” he replies, a soft smile breaking across his face. “I was just planning on enjoying some time with Kkuma, maybe grabbing some hot chocolate later.”

Your heart swells at the thought. “Would you want some company?” The words spill out before you think twice, but the hopeful glint in his eyes mirrors your own sentiments perfectly. “I mean, if Kkuma approves, of course.”

A soft chuckle escapes him, illuminating his features as snowflakes cling to his dark hair. “Well, if Kkuma likes you, I think it’s a solid yes!”

With a sudden rush of audacity, fueled by the warmth bubbling beneath your skin, you suggest, “How about we make it an official date? You, me, and Kkuma? A winter adventure!”

The moment stretches out as Seungcheol regards you with that same warm smile, sparking an undeniable glimmer of interest in his eyes. “I’d love that,” he finally says, his voice low and earnest.

With Kkuma bounding between you, you and Seungcheol walk side by side, the world around you fading away. The park becomes your domain, littered with laughter and snowflakes as you navigate the beginnings of something beautiful, something delicate, just like the glistening snow around you.

You discover a nearby café, its inviting warmth wrapping around you like a loving embrace as you step inside. The rich aroma of hot chocolate rises to greet you, and soon, cups are nestled between your hands, warmth layering against the winter’s chill. Each sip is sweeter than the last, but the moments shared are far sweeter radiant stories exchanged beneath soft lights, your laughter mingling with the sound of clinking cups and the distant music of the bustling world outside.

As the hours slip by, beneath a night sky blanketed in stars and whispers of snow, you realize that this night holds a promise of more than just a fleeting moment among strangers it holds the potential to blossom into something tender and lasting, like the glistening snowflakes that dance on the wind.

For one magical winter night in the heart of Seoul, amidst the laughter of newfound connection and the soft glowing endearments shared, you find yourself captivated not just by the beauty of the season, but by the warmth rising within your heart the kind you can only find when you least expect it, in the most enchanting of ways.

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kitkat13001 · 2 days ago

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜

i can see the end as it begins my one condition is say you’ll remember me standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams

>> tooru oikawa x reader

>> angst, friends to lovers, ambiguous (happy?) ending, fem-leaning reader (no pronouns, one use of the phrase ‘trophy wife’), title and lyrics from taylor swift’s song “wildest dreams”, dividers by @/anitalenia and @/saradika-graphics

oikawa was more than your high school boyfriend. he was more to you than any cookie-cutter definition you could slap on him like a discount store sticker.

for starters, you’d basically known him since elementary school.

you still remember the first day of second grade, the chatterbox of a boy who sat on your right and the mellow kid in the godzilla t-shirt who sat on your left.

the three of you have practically been inseparable since.

you and iwa were admittedly the more rational of the trio, while oikawa was the lallygagging daydreamer wandering behind you two.

that is, until you get to high school, and suddenly he’s the volleyball star dreamboat who’s got the whole school fawning over him.

it felt like a dream when oikawa had asked you out. you’d figured that with his pick of anyone at seijoh, you wouldn’t be at the top of his list.

you were wary at first, of course. you’re not stupid, and you’re far from naive. for years you had listened to your friends talk about their boyfriends and girlfriends as if they were really, truly soulmates. like their relationships were years rather than months long. you watched them celebrate anniversaries by the week.

you knew that high school love wasn’t meant to last. but still, this never felt like cliche high school romance.

tooru was your first everything. and you were careful, cautious to not let this infatuation consume and ruin you like you had seen happen to so many of your friends and their first loves. but it was so easy to love tooru, and to let him love you back. he knew you better than anyone, held the map to your mind and heart alike. your last years in school together were the best you ever had.

your caution was all for naught, though, as most worries are. all the precautions you’d taken, the bubble wrap you’d encased your heart in useless in the end.

you don’t know how it never came up before. of course, you’d thought about your plans after graduation. you knew what you wanted to do, where you wanted to go. but whenever you were with tooru, you didn’t give a damn about the future; all that mattered was here and now, just him beside you.

that’s why it catches you so off-guard when he makes an offhanded remark about argentina when matsukawa asks about his post-graduate plans, like he had already made up his mind.

mattsun smiles, making a joke and wishing him luck. he says the same to you, good luck with this one here, but you’re still reeling, unable to return his smile.

tooru laughs before bidding him goodbye, steering you away with an arm around your shoulder. you follow, lost in your head.

“what was that?” you ask, when you’re finally able to form words again. you duck out from under his arm and he frowns.

“what?”

“argentina?”

he blinks. “argentina?”

“since when did we decide that we are off to argentina?” you demand, panic and volume rising in your voice.

he looks half-surprised, and then nervous.

“well i didn’t…i mean, i didn’t decide, i just thought—”

“didn’t you ever think to ask me?” you cut in. “what about what i want? doesn’t that matter to you?”

“of course it matters to me!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair. “i just figured we’d figure something out, y’know?”

you’re both flushed, short of breath. but where there’s panic rising in tooru’s chest, you’re beginning to get angry.

“like what, tooru? that i go with you and be your trophy wife? or we do long distance and never see each other?”

you take a step back, pressing your hands against your hot face, and release a breath to try and calm yourself.

“tooru, i want to go to college,” you tell him, looking up at him with big eyes.

“there’s plenty of colleges in argentina!”

“that’s not the point!” you burst, burying your face in your hands. “i just…why didn’t you ask me, tooru?”

“i…i don’t know,” he replies in a helpless whisper. “i want to keep playing volleyball. they scouted me, and it seemed like such a no-brainer, and i couldn’t pass it up, and i—”

your heart freezes to ice. “you already said yes?”

tooru’s eyes shrink to guilty pinpricks. it’s all the answer you need.

you straighten, taking in a deep breath. you try to compose yourself, even though you feel utterly sick to your stomach. you will your eyes not to well up.

“well, then i guess we’ll go our separate ways.”

the declaration hangs in the air for a moment, haunting and final.

you’ve always been able to see past tooru’s facade, past the brave face he always puts on. he talks a big game, but he’s really quite fragile when it comes down to it.

you see it in his face now, the way he’s practically gaping at you. he’s surprised.

“you…what?”

“i think we should go our separate ways, tooru. we obviously want different things, and i just don’t think we’ll be able to reach our goals if we stay together.”

you start to rethink everything as soon as the words leave your mouth, just because of the way he’s looking at you. a pit settles in your stomach as his big brown eyes bore into yours, the very picture of heartbreak.

“you want to break up?”

“we knew this wasn’t going to last,” you reply quickly, resisting the tears pushing behind your eyes and trying desperately to swallow the lump in your throat.

“i didn’t,” he whispers. “i didn’t know this wasn’t going to last.”

you clench your teeth and hang your head, a tear slipping down your cheek against your will.

tooru hates seeing you cry. you hate when he sees you cry. that’s why you don’t hesitate to run into the safety of his arms when he opens them to you like you’re not breaking his heart.

you feel guilty, traitorous as you burrow into the warmth of his strong torso. shame burns in your gut as the tears stream down your face. his arms are steady and strong around your body, hand warm as he cradles the back of your head.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, shushing you gently. “it’s okay. i love you. i thought i loved you enough for both of us, but it’s okay.”

“of course i love you!” you burst, lifting your head to look at him. you sniff, wiping your face as you disentangle yourself from his arms slowly. “i just…can’t follow you around for the entire rest of my life.”

tooru nods, arms fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with them when you’re not in them.

“right. okay.”

you heave a sniffle, trying to compose yourself again. “when do you leave?”

“‘bout a month.”

“okay.” you inhale, exhale. “okay. well…i mean, until then..?”

“until then,” he agrees, offering you a half-hearted smile and his hand. of course, you take it.

you’ve been dreading today for a month. it feels like it’s been marked on your internal calendar in big, fat, red letters. in actuality, you couldn’t even write it in your planner because it hurt too much.

you offered to accompany tooru to the airport. he told you he’d be fine, you didn’t need to, but you had insisted. it was the least you could do after shattering his heart.

so here you are, walking him up to the gate. neither of you have said much on the way up here. to be honest, neither of you have said much since that day you decided to end it with tooru’s departure to argentina.

“this is me,” he says, gesturing to the gate behind you. you can hear the fragility behind his voice, that quaver only you’d notice.

“right,” you say quickly, wringing your hands awkwardly. “well, good luck.”

you almost flinch. three years dating, ten years friendship behind it, and all you can say is good luck.

“thanks,” he replies, but you know he’s thinking the same thing you are.

“i mean…” you sigh, but no words come to you. you shake your head, pulling him into a hug instead.

he’s shocked at first, you can tell by the way he tenses up. but it takes only a second for him to melt into your embrace and then he’s hugging you tighter than he has in your life.

there’s really nothing else to say after that. you both separate after a small eternity and try not to cry as he heads for the gate.

he pauses just before he walks through, looking back at you.

“there’s nothing i can do to change your mind?”

you shake your head, shrugging helplessly. “i would never ask you to give up your dreams for me, tooru. but i can’t sacrifice mine just for your sake either.”

he nods solemnly, releasing a long breath. you can hear the slightest waver in his voice when he speaks.

“i guess this is it, then.”

“yeah,” you agree, hugging the sleeves of your sweater. sincerity and heartbreak bleed through your voice. “goodbye, tooru. i hope it’s everything you ever dreamed of.”

he smiles softly at you, hanging off every word.

“don’t forget about me when you’re rich and famous,” you say with a watery laugh, wiping tears from your cheeks.

tooru stares back at you with the most lovesick expression you’ve ever seen, longing and caring and warm and haunting all at the same time.

“i could never forget you for as long as i live. and one day when i am rich and famous, i’ll come back for you.”

“riches and fame won’t get me back, tooru.”

“no,” he agrees. “but maybe seeing that i’ll wait for you will.”

and with that, he’s disappearing through the boarding tunnel with his bags. and then he’s gone like you had just dreamed him up, five seconds later and already a distant memory.

his words ring in your head the entire way home as you stare out the window.

they replay all over again, years later, when your phone lights up with a photo you treasure every day, a name you hear every night in your dreams.

“hi, tooru.”

this got away from me. if this takes off and breaks ur hearts like it broke mine, i might consider a part two. oikawa is so special to me, pls you have no idea. he’s so 1989 coded too. i <3 soft angst. love and take care, - 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢

#kitty.writes!#tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #hq x reader #hq angst #hq x reader angst #oikawa x reader angst #oikawa angst #haikyuu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #toru oikawa #toru x reader

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cyarikaplease · 2 days ago

Text

this is the way to behave

professor!din x student!reader

summary: act up in professor djarin’s class, suffer the consequences.

warnings: smut

You’re in your senior year at Coruscant University, inching closer and closer to finally graduating. You’re a history major and while you love history with all of your heart, school is draining you. So when your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies this semester, you’re less than thrilled. She sends you a copy of your schedule on your data pad and you take a look at the Mandalorian Studies section you’re in. And apparently, it’s being taught by Professor Djarin? You don’t even know who that is. Maybe they’re new to campus or an adjunct professor? Whoever they are, you hope they’re a good professor, or else this is about to be the longest and most boring semester of your life.

You send your schedule to your friends, Helia and Mione, also history majors. To your delight, they’re both in Mandalorian Studies with you. At least you can goof off together. You’re so close to graduating that class isn’t that big of a deal for you anymore, you already have some promising job prospects after graduation. You’ll just have to suffer through this boring class. But at least you and your friends will do it together… Right?

It’s the first day of the semester. You’re about to head to Mandalorian Studies, in a particular part of campus you don’t normally frequent. The classroom is your typical university lecture hall, with a pitched floor with a desk situated in the center, large screens behind the desk, and seats on each of the steps. Your friends wave to you and you head over to them, sitting in the seat they saved.

“Are you ready for the most boring class ever?” Helia snickers.

“Don’t get me started,” you groan.

You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the lecture hall. Until you hear a collection of gasps followed by one of your classmates saying, “That’s the professor?”

Your eyes fly open to see a Mandalorian in shiny beskar armor heading down the steps to the desk in the center of the floor. Kriff, you didn’t think the professor himself would actually be a Mandalorian.

He faces the class, a group of about forty students, and takes a deep breath.

“Hello. I’m Professor Djarin. Welcome to Mandalorian Studies. This semester we’ll be learning about Mandalorian culture starting from the beginning until the present day.”

Maker, his voice is so nice, with a sultry modulated tone. Maybe you could get used to this. At least the boring topics will have a soothing feel to them.

That is if you pay attention. Because all of a sudden class is over and you didn’t retain a single piece of information. Great.

As you leave the classroom you glance over your shoulder and get one last look at Professor Djarin. He notices and his visor locks onto you, so you look away quickly and feel your cheeks go hot.

Upon entering the hallway your friends say, “Total snooze fest, right?” followed by a laugh.

“I mean…” you respond.

“Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that,” Mione says.

“I didn’t enjoy it. I just think his voice is nice.”

“Maybe it would be nicer if he wasn’t talking about the most mind-numbing topics in the world,” Helia says.

“Yeah… I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit.

“Oof, don’t make that a habit if you actually want to pass. I have no idea how this guy grades,” Helia says, pretending to scold you.

“Oh, he seems like a total hardass,” you snort.

You all groan in unison. Here’s to the start of a long semester.

It’s been a few weeks since your class with Professor Djarin started. You’ve been doing… alright. It’s been a little tough to pay attention between zoning out to the sound of his deep voice or your friends goofing off. You got a B+ on your last paper, not your best but also not your worst! It was a paper on the Siege of Mandalore during the Clone Wars, so lots of information and also a heavy topic.

You’ve also come to a realization you haven’t shared with your friends… Professor Djarin is hot, like really hot. You don’t even know what he looks like under all the armor but between that voice and the way he saunters into the classroom and the way he tilts his helmet to the side whenever he’s listening to someone talk, and- Kriff, you got it bad.

You’re not even subtle about it, fully checking him out as he’s in the middle of lectures, admiring the way he rests a hand in his belt… the arrow on his glove pointing directly to where his cock is under his flight suit.

Class is about to get a lot worse for you though. Because you’re sitting in the back like you and your friends typically do. And Professor Djarjn is explaining the Mandalorian phrase “This is the way” and… you all can’t stop laughing.

“This is wayyy,” Helia says in the sassiest but also quietest voice she can muster.

“This is the wahhh,” Mione says, holding back her own laughter.

It shouldn’t be funny but it is. And you’re doing your best to stifle your laughs but it’s hard, threatening to rip themselves free from your throat. You swipe the tears from the corners of your eyes and blink a few times to regain focus to see… Professor Djarin staring directly at you.

“Oh kriff, guys stop it,” you say, lightly slapping Helia on the arm.

“What?” she asks before following your gaze and realizing what’s going on. “Oh,” she lets out softly.

For the rest of the class you don’t look at each other, because if you do the laughter threatens to come back. Thankfully, Professor Djarin didn’t say anything. Maybe it’ll all be okay.

Class is over finally and you get ready to leave. But before you pass through the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder followed by your name being called out. It’s Professor Djarin. You don’t even need to turn around to confirm it. The voice is a dead giveaway.

You turn around to face the stone-cold glare of the T-shaped visor and take a deep breath.

“Can you stay back for a moment?”

“S-Sure.”

“You guys don’t have to wait. I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to your friends, both of them looking like they’ve seen a ghost judging by their clammy, panicked appearance.

This has to be about what happened in class just now. What else could it possibly be?

But if this is about being reprimanded… Why isn’t he making them stay after class, too?

He walks past you and locks the door, before turning to you and saying, “Meet me by my desk.”

He heads down to the desk and you gulp. Why did he lock the classroom door? This can’t be good.

You head down the steps and set your bag on an empty chair before walking over to him, facing him and his glaring stance.

“Do you know why I’m speaking to you privately right now?”

“Look, if this is about what me, Helia and Mione were doing, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was trying not to laugh but-”

“Oh, before we even get to the topic of that. We need to talk about you eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat, in my own classroom.”

“Uhh-”

“Oh yes, I noticed, pretty girl. Doesn’t help that you’re so obvious about it.”

You’re mortified right now, completely skipping over the fact that he called you pretty girl. As soon as this little talk is over, you’re heading to your advisor’s office and dropping this class.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you manage to spit out.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“W-what do you want me to say?”

“How about I’m sorry, sir?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think that’s enough. I think you need to be punished.”

“What? Please, sir. I’ve already apologized.”

“And I said I don’t think that’s enough, pretty girl. Bend over the desk.”

You can’t deny how hot this is. Being disciplined by the hot professor? Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen, especially in this class.

You move around to the back of the desk, bending over and resting on your elbows. You picked the worst day (or maybe the best day) to wear a skirt. As you bend over, your skirt rides up, exposing more of your thighs. He moves behind you, running his gloved hands along your soft flesh.

“And who do you think you are? Wearing this short skirt to my class like a whore. Did you want my attention?”

“Maybe…”

“What was that?” he says, resting a hand on your ass. You also picked the worst day (or again, maybe the best day) to go commando. You shiver at the feeling of the leather against your bare ass.

“Yes, sir,” you say, gasping at the end of your sentence as he runs finger along your entrance. You’re already soaked, having fantasized about him in every class since you laid eyes on him. And of course he notices, bringing his hand in front of your face to show you the physical proof.

“Dirty, dirty girl, getting wet in class while I’m just trying to teach… Time for you to get punished.”

He moves his hand from your face and spanks you on the ass, the leather colliding with your skin. You let out a moan, the stinging feeling left on your skin in the aftermath.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he rasps by your ear.

Another spank. Another moan, this one deeper than the last.

“Dirty girl likes getting punished over my desk, doesn’t she?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, getting off from the sound of his voice and the feeling of his gloves on your ass.

“Thought so,” he tuts, drawing his hand back and spanking your ass again.

You moan again and he says, “I don’t think the spanking is enough. I think you need a real punishment.”

“Please, sir.”

He runs his hand along your wetness again before sliding a finger inside, slowly working your walls before adding a second one. You think about his gloved fingers, pumping in and out of you. Kriff, that thought drives you crazy.

“You get to cum when I say so, got it? And don’t even think about coming without telling me, or I’ll pull out so fast.”

You whine in response, prompting him to grab you by the throat and pull you upright against him.

“Got it?” he reiterates.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he teases, letting go of your throat and bending you over the desk again.

He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up against your g-spot. You feel your pleasure mounding, teetering on the edge of orgasm. You do your best to hold off, to wait for his approval but it’s too hard.

“Please, sir. Can I cum?”

“Not yet,” he commands.

You whimper in response, fearing you won’t be able to hold on and you’ll be punished.

“Please, sir,” you beg, the desperation heavy in your voice.

“Fine,” he sighs, feigning kindness.

You cum around his fingers, his leather-clad fingers, shaking against the desk. You shake a little bit, knees threatening to give out just from being fingered. He pulls his fingers from you once you’re done coming, spreading your release around his cock and slamming into you, giving you no time to recover.

“Oh, kriff,” you curse, walls adjusting to the newfound length and girth inside you.

“You can take it,” he commands.

“Yes, sir,” you spit in between your labored breathing.

His hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks you against the desk, making it shake beneath you. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, making your ass slam up against his groin, all while he talks you through it.

“Dirty girl likes taking my cock over my desk, huh?”

“It’s- it’s so good, sir,” you respond, completely blissed out.

“Oh, I know. And you’re taking it like such a good girl,” he praises.

You whimper at his praise and stars cloud your vision, the euphoria swirling throughout your body.

“Can I please cum?”

“I suppose since you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl.”

His praise does it again, pushing you over the edge. You cum around his cock, convulsing and gripping him as you ride out your high. The lecture hall is filled with the sounds of your moans and cries as he fucks you through your release.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with his own pleasure.

He grunts and you feel his cock twitch inside you. Kriff, he’s going to cum soon. Before you can even tell him to pull out he’s painting your insides with his release, holding your hips in place. He pulls out of you once he’s done and you collapse onto the desk, your knees finally giving out.

There’s a layer of wetness in between you and the desk. Professor Djarin chuckles and says, “Look at you. Made a mess all over my desk.”

You pull yourself off and smooth down your skirt, averting your gaze to the floor.

“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles again.

“Well, uh, I’m sorry about what happened in class earlier. It won’t happen again,” you respond, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

You grab your bag off the chair and quickly head out. But before you can leave through the door, he says, “Feel free to stay late after the next class,” in a sly tone, hands on hips.

You nod, feeling your face go hot, and dart out the door.

Yeah, you’re definitely not dropping his class now.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction

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firewoodwander · 3 days ago

Note

Firewoodwander Revival Era is GO!!! 🎉🎉🎉💖💖💖

🦌+ Codex ft. Sweet Thing please!!

Wintertime prompts

Cody is minding his own business, nominally. Here he sits, on his usual bench, admiring the way the wind whirls and whips crunchy golden leaves that scatter about the path in miniature hurricanes. Next thing he knows there’s a tiny little nose snuffling cold and wet at his fingers, accompanied by rapid puffs of warm breath tickling the hairs on the back of his hand.

“Hello, Sweet Thing,” he murmurs, and turns his hand to scratch behind tiny ears.

About as long as one of Cody’s forearms—and just about as broad—Sweet Thing is a little scrap of a hound with almost no hair and adorably drooly jowls. She snorts with excitement at the attention and wags her tail so violently her whole body wiggles with it.

“Hiya,” Cody tells her, catching her front paws when she jumps up at his knee, “hi.”

She looks him right in the eye as he leans in to let her lick his nose, then sneezes directly in his face.

Cody barely pays any mind to wiping dog snot off his chin. “Where’s your dad, hey?”

“I’m going to start calling you her dad, seeing as you’re the only one she will ever listen to.”

Scooping up Sweet Thing like a precious, delicate porcelain baby, Cody stands and turns to grin at Rex, who’s strolling casually along the path. Rex smiles right back, somehow still so bright under the heavily overcast sky; they fall into step together to continue around the park.

“She would never leave you for me, old boy,” Cody reminds him. “Surely you know that.”

“She would betray me in a heartbeat for a scrap of bread,” Rex scoffs. “She already has.”

Their elbows knock and their arms brush as they walk, Sweet Thing’s lead swinging lazily from its loop around the back of Rex’s neck and Cody’s hands busy with bestowing tummy scratches on his apparent god dog-ter. She grumbles and yowls with pleasure, and Rex sends an undisguised look of contempt her way.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to take that thing home,” he says.

“You know exactly what was going to have happened if you hadn’t,” Cody (rightfully) complains. They’ve had this argument so many times it’s not even an argument.

“You would have taken her, and all would be well in the world.”

“I couldn’t, Rex. You know I couldn’t.”

Rex sighs and mumbles something that is almost certainly “more fool you for choosing to work at that shelter,” but Cody decides generously not to hear it.

Instead he stoops to let the furball scramble back onto solid earth and scamper away, tail up and nose down following the scent of local pigeons.

“You know,” Rex begins. He has that tone about him that means he thinks he knows what he’s about to say is going to get him in trouble, but he’s going to say it anyway, mostly because he’s a bastard. Cody turns to him, brow raised and amusement at the ready.

“You could just move out of that apartment. I know a place.”

Well. Not what he expected.

“You know a place,” Cody echoes. “That allows pets?”

“And is on the first floor, has parking, a lift, access, is close to the shops and the station.”

“That does sound like a good place. What’s the—”

“Long lease, affordable rent, moderate service charge. Area is okay. Good holonet speeds. Walls aren’t too thin.”

“But?”

Rex scuffs his boot on the concrete as he walks and doesn’t look at him.

“But it does come with a roommate.”

Cody hums. He stays quiet for a while. A long while. Long enough to have walked around half of the pond already, for Sweet Thing to have attacked at least three interloping leaves and come back to check Cody’s still alive each time, and for the trees to set up the perfect ambient rustle. But Rex, steadfast and certain, doesn’t fold even a little. Cody shoves his hands in his pockets and watches his breath spiral into the sky.

“A roommate.”

“Anything notable about this roommate?”

“Not much,” Rex admits. “But they come with a Sweet Thing attached.”

Dried out by the cold, Cody’s lips crack and ache when he smiles. His elbow knocks Rex’s again and this time he leaves it there, warm and solid and close.

“Well,” he decides. “That doesn’t sound too bad at all.”

#I think you have too much faith in me lol #writing tag #codex #wintertime prompts #Rex adopted the worst dog ever to convince his man to move in with him. master strategist back at it again playing the long game #not me phrase searching THREE different discord servers to Remember:tm:#thank you as always to [redacted] and the gang for ST #three servers. Jesus Christ #cloneshipping

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swordheld · 1 year ago

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do the silly thing. if you do not do the silly thing time will pass and it will not be the same silly thing it could have been. it will still be silly, and it will still be yours, but it will not be the same. this is both a blessing and a curse, but so is living; and if you do not do it now when will you? who will? it has to be you, it was always meant for you, waiting for you.

#this is about writing for me but could be about anything (that is not hurtful to urself or others. very important)#that's why it is silly (affectionate) or cringey (affectionate) like u gotta just let yourself go sometimes. you have to do the thing.#even if it is terrible horrible (not what you want) bc at least then it EXISTS. at least it holds space in the universe and it lives outsid #you can let it sit and rot and gather dust but at least then you can go back to it. even if it's horrible there is at LEAST at least -#one kernel of it that you can bring into the next piece. at least one shining pearl of something.#even if it needs work or months in those lil funky rock tumblers for geodes and gemstones and all. even if needs SO much work.#at least it is there!!! and it is yours!!!#it's your call to action if it's something u want w/ all your heart.#or even a piece of it. if it's something you want? well - it's already yours. it always has been.#you just have to take the first step / the first breath / and begin.#scribbles.

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pennjammin · 2 months ago

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geeked up.

you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all you’ve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!

content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sèx, public sèx, exhibitionism, drüg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism

incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru

word count. 8.3k

soundtrack 🌧️💿: sativa ft. swae lee

COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.

A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.

The lemon stimulant you’d mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.

"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?”

He’s so polite about it. At first.

“What ever is the matter, Ken?” you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. “I’m trying to clean.”

He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.

“I need to be inside of you,” he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.

“Right now?” you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. “But the dining room is so filthy…” You watch as his nostrils flare; he’s clearly taking in your scent.

“You know I would never force you,” he grits out, voice choked. “But also - mmh - p-pretty please?”

His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.

“My God, are you feeling alright?” you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. “You look unwell.”

“I feel unwell, baby,” he says, tone serious and apologetic. “I feel like I might die if I can’t put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.”

Even as he says the words, it’s clear in his eyes that he doesn’t care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.

You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. “Is that so?”

“No, please don’t,” he breathes. “D-Don’t wanna lose my control…”

“You won’t,” you purr, slipping his zipper down. “You’re gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvin’s, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.

“No, no,” Nanami’s head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.

“I’m just trying to help, Ken,” you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.

He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that you’re in control.

“Please, just take it out,” he begs.

How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.

"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.

Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.

You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.

His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.

You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.

You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. You’d hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.

Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. You’d gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.

Your thighs turn in on themselves, but they’re no match for his strength. It’s as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.

On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanami’s neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.

He doesn’t notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.

“Agh - shit, shit, nonono…” Nanami spits out.

Until finally he’s had enough.

In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.

His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.

"My love, you feel so fucking good.” The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.

You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.

With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now you’re watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.

“F-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,” you whine, knowing it’s a full fib.

You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like they’re being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.

“I-I can’t, baby,” Nanami grunts from above. “Your pussy has me so out of control.”

You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what you’d done. Your pussy can’t take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesn’t respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.

His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.

He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.

He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.

You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.

"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"

You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.

Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.

His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, “Be sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?”

Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.

"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.

You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.

But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.

“Mm, so much wetter now,” he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.

The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.

You’ll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think he’s finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that he’s going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.

But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that he’s near finished with you.

KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.

Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.

He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.

While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.

You’d felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasn’t, and the worst that’ll happen is consensual rounds of sex. You’d disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.

Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.

He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.

"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"

Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."

You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.

"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."

He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."

"That so?" you coo. "There’s something I want right now."

Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, “Spit it out.”

"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.

Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"

You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for… you know."

His fork pokes into the pancake stack. You’re overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.

Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.”

"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.

Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.”

You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."

Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.

"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,” he says before adding, “do ya even know how to tie a knot, lil’ girl?”

"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."

"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.”

You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.

You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.

"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."

You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so."

He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.

“Welp, let the games begin,” he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.

Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.

“Well done,” Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. “My lil’ brat does pay attention.”

You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as you’d requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.

You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.

“Agh, fuck,” he spits. “Show me what you got, dollface.”

You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Brat, don’t piss me off,” he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.

You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. “You doing okay there?”

His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. “Fuck. Stop doing that shit.”

“Or what?” you taunt, knowing he’s trapped.

“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens, but he can’t help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.

“What is it you always call me?” you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “Needy whore.”

“Fuck you,” he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. You’re watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.

His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.

“Quit playing with me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “I’mma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.”

“Would love to see you try,” you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.

He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.

Toji’s entire body stiffens. “God, why is my shit so sensitive?” The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.

“What did you do?” he goes on. “You did something to me - fuck.”

And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.

"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."

"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.

"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.

"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.

You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.

You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.

"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.

The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Toji’s cock feels like it’s inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.

“A honey packet like I’m some booty call?” Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. “‘Bout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.”

“Toji! Please,” you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isn’t going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that it’s threatening to crack you open.

His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.

“I oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,” he threatens. “Since you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.” His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” you whine into his ear, “o-ooh. Shit.”

“‘Sorry baby,’” Toji mocks. “Yeah. ‘M sorry too. Sorry that you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.”

SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.

"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"

The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.

You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.

Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.

Only one issue with that: you’d accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so you’d taken a fat swig a while back and now you’re paying for it as you sit and watch him.

"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."

You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.

You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.

You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.

You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.

He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."

You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" You’re mostly asking for yourself, because if you’re forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.

Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."

You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."

Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."

God, you wish he hadn’t done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but you’re frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.

And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.

Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.

You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.

"Fuck me," Suguru’s eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. “Feels too fucking good, monk.”

All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguru’s dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.

His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.

"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.

"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."

"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."

He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until you’re envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."

You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"

"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.

"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.

"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."

You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.

Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.

“Can’t get enough,” he mumbles against your mouth. “So wet for me, angel.”

It’s not long before you’re practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.

Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasn’t cum himself. But that doesn’t remain the case for long.

You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.

And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, he’s sticking it back in just a few seconds later.

Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that you’ve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.

GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.

“Want a hit?”

Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.

“I’m good,” you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which you’ve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.

Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.

You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag you’d handed to Gojo, watching as he’d devoured three obliviously.

“Satoru, you know you shouldn’t have eaten that many,” you’d scolded, trying to play along.

“Relax, my tolerance is higher than yours,” he’d quipped sassily.

But now that Shoko’s party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because they’re stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.

His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. He’s sitting next to Suguru, who’s naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. You’re pretending to ignore Gojo’s clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.

You giggle as your head falls on Shoko’s shoulder. Your body feels like it’s lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if it’ll ground you.

Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. “Y/N, get up,” he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.

“No,” you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.

“Have it your way.” He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.

“Hey-!” you protest as you’re now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly he’s holding you.

“It’s way late,” he says. “And you’re high as hell. We need to go.”

“You’re being extra,” you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. “Y’sure this is about it being late?”

“No, it isn’t,” he admits. “Watching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.”

“But I was hanging out with Shoko,” you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. He’s walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. “Gojo, what are you-?”

“I need your throat,” he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. “Happy now? That’s what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.”

You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like you’re floating.

“Okay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,” you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. “May be a bit dry.”

He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, you’d realize how incredibly risky he’s being, but since you aren’t, you don’t care.

He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.

“There,” he whispers. “That should help. Now I need you on your knees.”

He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.

“All this for some head?” you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. “Not that serious.”

“Yes it is,” he whines, “might die if I can’t shove my cock between those pretty lips.”

He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. You’re looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like they’re stretching. You dig your nails into Gojo’s pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.

Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.

You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.

“Satoru-!” is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. “Just making sure it’s wet enough.”

“Y- mmh,” you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.

You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.

"Speak up," he grunts, “you were being so bratty a minute ago.”

"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.

"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.

Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojo’s cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.

“So gummy,” Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. “Throat fits me so perfect, baby, y’know that?”

You can’t respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know he’s being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.

“Hngh - what was that for?” he scolds before murmuring, “do it again.”

You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. You’re salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.

“Quiet,” you moan around his cock, as he’s letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.

“N-No,” he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. You’re met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. “You suck me up so good, princess.”

Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You don’t care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.

But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.

“Gah - baby, why?” he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.

You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.

His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.

“P-please don’t,” he whimpers. “S-suck it.”

“Mm-mm,” you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.

“Ngh - ‘m too horny for this, baby,” he growls. “Was so close.”

“Too bad,” you shrug, voice muffled because of the way you’re swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.

His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell it’s going to be a long night for Satoru.

“Alright princess, I-I’ll remember this,” he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. “Goddamnit baby, what’s gotten into you? P-Please jus’ le’me cum.”

“Maybe,” you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. “How bad you want it?”

“S-so bad,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you question, running your thumb over his tip. “Hmm. You’re in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?”

“Ah - fuck it, just please,” he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.

“Cum,” you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.

He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.

“Okay, okay,” he whines. “I-I’m good now, agh.”

“You’re not good till I say so,” you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.

“I said I’m good, but if you think I’m not getting you back for that - you’re a stupid little thing, aren’t you?” He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. “Now, on your toes baby. And be quiet.”

A/N:

I’ve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me

I’m fighting demons (writer’s block)

And also… I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.

all the love always!

~pennjammin

11K notes · View notes

tonycries · 5 months ago

Text

Golden Boy - G.S.

Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.

The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him.

Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat.

“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.

Seconds away from a bloodbath.

You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-

Snip!

You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

It’s hard not to remember.

“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”

With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care.

Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”

So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did.

It’s so unfair.

Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago.

Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.

You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”

“I did.”

Like it was all he wanted to see.

“You never loved me.”

“I do.”

Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”

Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.

“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”

Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple.

In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to.

“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”

You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away.

“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”

And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you.

Saw - only from a distance - those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.

Always hidden.

Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful.

But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?

You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”

“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”

Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was.

Perfect.

Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips.

You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”

“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else.

A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”

The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”

Again. And again and again- like he was addicted.

He’d always been, with you, anyway.

You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before.

“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”

A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster.

And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”

You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.”

And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt.

“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”

And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.

“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”

Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”

“B-but-”

It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss.

He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”

But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely.

And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”

RIP!

With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you.

“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”

“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”

He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-

“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”

Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection.

“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length.

Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”

And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene.

Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck.

The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out.

Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”

“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”

His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.

They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine.

Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring.

“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”

And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back.

Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru.

“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds.

And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-

“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?”

That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him.

“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”

You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours.

“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”

You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-

Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.”

Fuck. Killing him?

You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive.

Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever.

To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?”

You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”

“No, that’s not what you call me.”

And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle.

“Sugu!”

A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”

Over and over.

You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.

Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.

“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”

“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”

Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.

And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure.

Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.

“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”

And something about that makes him remember.

Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”

His golden girl.

Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.

“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”

Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots.

And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”

“Mhm?”

You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”

“-s’where I belong.”

Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”

Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach.

Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”

Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now.

“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”

Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape.

Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”

And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure.

Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?

But no.

Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.

And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”

The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.

Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”

And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind.

It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock.

And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive.

Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth.

Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly.

His heaven.

And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.

But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”

A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo x reader #tonywrites

8K notes · View notes

selfcarecap · 3 months ago

Text

Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask.

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #james logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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swordsandholly · 7 months ago

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Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

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pearlywritings · 8 months ago

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Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the shits. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction.

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them.

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible?

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you.

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip.

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight.

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.

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