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worstgenerationloser · 7 months ago

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,, Indulgence. ''

Pairings: Ace, Shanks, Beckmann, and Luffy x Reader (separately!)

Summary... nsfw headcanons revolving around the topics of virginity, sex, masturbation...

A/N: This is only part one, might be split into two parts. I also wrote oneshots for each character below, but I burned out too quick, so I stored them away, but they will be posted!

Portgas D. Ace.

Ace is most definitely a virgin, not that he can't get anybody to spend the night with him, considering he's a very handsome young man. He would rather spend his time eating, sleeping, and enjoying his time in Whitebeards crew than having sex, he doesn't see it that way because he has zero clue what sex is, he's fairly educated, and he most definitely has seen a few things by pure accident in various towns, not that he made a big deal out of it, he just scurries away.

He's a virgin, and hardly masturbates, his mind is always preoccupied with other matters. That being said, what turns him on?

Ace doesn't exactly have a type, but if he were to display any sexual interest in anybody, the sense of romance would have to appear first. He's scared of hurting those he loves, so you have to be super strong to ensure that you won't die and leave him with unfulfilled dreams of love. He doesn't care what they identify as, his lover needs to have strength that could crush rookie pirates dreams.

When he masturbates, he likes to be in a dark, quiet place, he is mildly embarrassed at the fact he's touching himself sometimes, so he tries to keep quiet. Without a partner or a crush, he doesn't feel himself wanting more than just five minutes or so with his hand every other month when he feels a little bit pent up. Ace is such a sweet boy, but once he develops romantic feelings for you, he finds himself thinking of you one too many times during those few minutes alone, and eventually his romantic feelings bring wanting and longing for more than simple, sweet love.

Because he's just so sweet, he feels ashamed of his feelings for you at first. He can't stand the way he feels, it's not like he's some some pervert, right? Could he even pursue a relationship with you? He likes to think he's mature, calm, and cool, but on the inside he's still pretty immature.

If he's gonna lose his virginity, it's gonna be a while after you two start dating, he isn't with you for sex, that's for sure. Again, sex is the least of his worries, so you would have to approach the topic yourself, because, trust me, it's gonna save you a lot of time and suffering from waiting for him to make a move. He's a proper gentleman with you no matter what, and he makes up for his inexperience with his eagerness to please.

His losing his virginity is something he would have never imagined. So, who knew he would like you touching his body so much? Seriously, he finds out way too quickly that there's no way he could have achieved such a pleasure all by himself. The most physical contact he gets from others nowadays is a pat on the back from the other commanders, maybe a handshake or two, and other than that, it's just him being punched upon various other things.

To lose his virginity and indulge himself in fine dining (you) , he embodies his mature side, and decides to have a discussion with you.

Red-Haired Shanks.

Shanks? A virgin? He lost his virginity a long time ago, and that's probably why he's so confident. I don't think he has a single insecure bone left in his body by the time he's 20. He doesn't need one, anyways, the boy inherited Dark King Rayleigh's charms as if he were his son, and sometimes it's super annoying. He isn't a complete fuckboy, but he definitely got around a lot when he was a young man, but after ten years of constant hookups, be it women, men, or anybody not on the spectrum, he made the decision to settle down... Mostly because one of his old flings had a small pregnancy scare and he was horrified.

Shanks is pretty experienced, to put it simply, he knows how to put his charms to good use, how to get anybody to drop their pants after a nice long flirting session, or, if they aren't the type for casual hookups, after a sweet date.

That being said, he prefers having intercourse over masturbation, actually, I do not believe he has used his own hand to please himself in... Many years. But, as previously mentioned, even a man like him manages to settle down. Shanks, like Ace, would only manage with a lover who would be strong enough to impress his crew, that being said, if you want him to genuinely love you for anything besides your body, you have to play hard to get. (Was that term used correctly? It's 2 am)

He is a natural flirt, so charismatic it's scary. So when you reject his advances, he is very taken aback, and it fuels his sexual fantasies. He would burn through many of women, trying to get rid of this pure sexual frustration he feels every second you're near, and for a moment he was considering begging you to atleast let him see your naked body. But, after a month or two, he lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the smell of someone's body spray melted into his red hair, and he feels something other than lust for you. Actually, he was sure it was always there, but maybe he was too foolish to notice or see it.

Cue him asking you out, being absolutely overjoyed when he gets to call you his, wedding bells ringing in his head. (Though he is a pirate, and cannot have his marriage recognized legally)

You shortly realize he is more terribly perverse than he let on.

Shameless groping, dirty whispers, excessive nudity (though, if it was shanks, I'm sure nobody would mind👀) and lots and loootsss of advances. He is obviously willing to stop if you dislike such things, though.

Shanks never really saw himself loving someone outside of sex, but now that he is alive and loving, he just can't stop. But, of course, the pervert is itching to screw you, though he isn't purely thinking of sex, the thought pops up constantly and it makes the palm of his hand itch. He wants your first time to be special, but the longer he waits, the more he wants it, the more he dreams of it, the more he just can't help but stare at you when you straighten your back, following the curve of your spine down to your... He is very obviously staring.

During intercourse, Shanks prefers to top, but he's not a stone top by any means, he likes to switch maybe once a month, his all time favorite position? Prone bone. Watching you lay in bed on your stomach has him drooling, and he might as well be rabid because he absolutely will be plotting, asking you to stay that way while he straddles you, offering a seemingly innocent back massage... It was, in fact, not.

Benn Beckmann

Benn Beckmann is the man women and men alike dream about. He isn't a virgin, that's for sure.

I mean... He's an older man, he has quite a bit of experience, and I think, contrary to popular belief, he chases women a lot more than his captain. Beck is more often than not chatting up a pretty lady anytime the red-haired pirates dock at an island, a whole crew of whores, they are. I wouldn't be surprised if a few of the crew have screwed the same person before... Beck has a story about that involving Shanks and somebody else, and it may or may not have ended in a threesome, but that's simply what the rumors say.

He is one of the red-haired pirates, and he isn't completely devoid of sentiment or some oddly nonchalant guy, he has feelings, wants, and needs too, his mental health wouldn't keep up on the crew of partygoers if he was so uptight. Beck doesn't like to lust over people unless they show the same type of interest in him; don't get me wrong because he does find people attractive and he is not at all feeling guilty for eyeing a pretty piece of eye candy or even whistling at someone every once in a while, he doesn't want to imagine screwing every good looking person he sees is all.

He is a big man, he looks like he could snap somebody in half with a singular flex of his bicep, not to mention he's the first mate of an emperor of the sea; Beck is just as strong as Shanks, and as the red-haired pirates gain power and fame, he finds himself a little more pent up, though people flock to him so he doesn't complain much. Who doesn't want a man like him in their bed, anyways?

Though, he does please himself from time to time, of course. He opens the drawer of his desk full of magazines, takes his pick and gets straight to work, ensuring the door is locked. He's getting straight to the point, dropping his pants down to his ankles whilst leaning back in the chair he's in, closing his eyes to take in the moment. It isn't too frequent, and it's not a big deal if he can't find some time to himself, he knows somebody else will always make time for him, anyways.

Beck has a high libido, and has taken a liking to pretty ladies in particular, but that doesn't mean his taste involves one gender exclusively, of course, he's happy to take somebody to bed if they look good enough. Concerning romantic relationships, he doesn't really see any of that happening, his life is full of freedom and adventure, he's merely tied down to his crew and he prefers to keep it that way.

But... if he just so happened to develop romantic feelings for you, it would happen one of three ways. Maybe you two had a bit of a friends with benefits relationship, you being one of the red-haired pirates making it easier for you two to meet up for nightly trysts; Or maybe you happened to be a friend of Shanks, perhaps during his time on Rogers crew, maybe you were rivals, or maybe just plain old friends, a friend of his captains is a friend of his. Maybe he's fucking you nearly every day and night, and his feelings got a little out of hand one somewhere along the way... Either way, it was pretty easy for lust to turn into love and infatuation.

Beck was wary of welcoming you into his heart, but he did so, and he rushed over you like a heavy flood. He isn't acting like he was in heat, like his captain would with his significant other, he prefers to love you quietly, but of course his hand would slip lower down your back every once in a while and completely dwarf your ass as he groped you, holding his cigarette in his teeth as he exhaled the smoke from his mouth. He's definitely an ass man.

When it comes to thinking of having sex with you, he's a little nervous. He's respectful to all his hookups, and he is very confident in that aspect but he is absolutely ginormous and he doesn't wanna split you in two in the literal sense. It will hurt for sure, he knows that, you're gonna whine and cry out all night long, he knows that too, but he wants you, and he knows you want him, as your lover, he begins to discuss it with you as casually as he can, his voice smooth and maybe a little rough during the entire ordeal.

He makes his move after a sweet date, loving on you all night and kissing you all the way back to his bedroom, mostly because he hadn't taken anybody there before, and he wanted your first time with him to be special.

Monkey D. Luffy.

Luffy could not care less about nudity, and he cares even less about sex. In Alabasta, the only reason he even reacted to Nami flashing him was because Usopp was there, and Luffy really didn't mind seeing Hancock's naked body.

He has never considered jerking off a day in his life, nudity is just a part of life for him, you got your pants off? That's cool. Just for the fun of it, he's nude. Tits out? His are already out most of the time so it's no big deal. (You can tell I'm having fun with this.)

He's not sure he could fall in love, all he desires is freedom. His lover doesn't need strength, as long as they're kind and they share the same moral code as him, he's overjoyed! He probably will convince them to join his crew, despite being clueless on sex, he has a... Slight understanding of romance, he thinks.

After falling in love with you and feeling various different things with you, he very quickly realizes that he feels a different kind of heat in his body that isn't his rapidly beating heart or his stomach fluttering, which, could also be his stomach growling, but that's besides the point. He's clueless, when Dadan tried to give Ace, Sabo, and him "the talk" he was so grossed out he ran off, leaving Ace in the dust. So, all he knew was that he had a dick, and literally nothing else, so if you're afab, you have to explain stuff to him. When Luffy feels that heat creep into his skin, coursing through his veins, it all rushes to one place.

His shorts feel tight, to the point it's painful, and it's even worse when his eyes land on you. His stomach aches, well, he thinks it does, it feels weird, and that's all he knows. He actually ends up talking to Sanji, the expert in erotica... Or so he says. Now, he's got a pretty good grasp on his sexuality, and he wants to try having sex with you. He doesn't sugarcoat it, doesn't really plan something intricate, he'll walk up to you while you're doing whatever, and he's gonna blurt it out in that same casual tone he has when he says "I'm hungry" , and he might just embarrass you infront of his crew.

"Wanna have sex?" Oh boy, do you.

END.

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! ❤️

#akagami no shanks x reader #shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #benn beckman x reader #shanks smut #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #luffy x reader #luffy x reader smut #one piece smut

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houseofthedragonn · 2 months ago

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Can we have a dad!Cregan fic? just a sweet family moment of him, the wife, and pups. Maybe the wife is also currently pregnant with who knows what number

honestly surprised I haven’t done one already! here you go🥰

beautiful boy,

cregan stark

“BOYS, YOUR FATHER HAS MUCH WORK TO do!” I scolded although I could not help but laugh as the four little lords climbed their tall father like the looming weirwood tree out in the godswood.

One on each leg, and the other two hanging with their arms around his neck. One on his back, and the other on his chest.

My wonder never ceased as to how his broad shoulders could take the two growing boys weighing him down. While walking with the two youngest clinging to his legs. I watched from the window as our five eldest trained with Winterfell’s master-at-arms, all between the ages of ten and fourteen.

“You’d do best to heed your mother, sons. I pity whoever incurs her wrath!” Stark smiled a wolfish grin, growling at the boys like a beast. His more playful side reserved for sweet family moments like this with our pups.

Cregan and myself were still fairly young parents, his beard not yet greying. We started our family only a mere couple of years older than our firstborn. Now at twenty-nine, I hardly knew a year without a pup in my belly, with one after the other like clockwork. Not that I was complaining, since Stark was ever the attentive husband when I was with child.

Now our twin tenth and eleventh well on their way, my baby bump due to burst any day now.

“Gods be good, and may they bless us with daughters… seven hells, I don’t think I can take two more Starkling sons running around, love…” I sighed, sitting down to rest my tired feet.

“You are right in that, my love… at least the maesters say girls are likely from the way you are carrying. And they shall be as beautiful as you, gorgeous,” Cregan cooed, clobbering his way over to me with our sons weighing him down to give me a kiss.

It was at this our sons scattered like a flock of little dark haired crows in a panic, running around our chambers.

“Ew! They’re going to make another brother—as if we don’t have enough!” Our oldest of the four made a face of disgust at the display of our affection.

“Rickard, a kiss is not how children are—oh, never mind it,” I laughed after his father and I pulled away after our peck on the lips, our boys holding their hands over their Stark grey eyes.

“How are children made if not from a kiss?” Our second oldest of the four asked, ever the most curious of the bunch.

“Oh, Bran… now that you will have to wait to learn about until you are old enough to wield a sword. Now go find the Maester, it’s time for your lessons,” Cregan commanded, as the littlest ones, Eddard and baby Benjen trotted off at once, ever the most obedient of the bunch, even for their ages of six and four.

With Rickard dragging his heels behind them as he wistfully watched his older brothers sparring from the window, wanting to join them. Something his father and I always noticed his eagerness to prove himself with a sword, a real one, nor the wooden ones he and his younger brothers trained with.

“It’ll be your turn soon enough, my son. Your tenth nameday is sooner than you think…” I reminded him while ruffling his head of lighter curls, as his coloring favored my unruly mane the most out of all his brothers.

“I know, I know…” Rickard mumbled, sighing as he took Ned and Ben by the hands to lead them to their lessons. Brandon sloping off happily to go learn some more behind the three, the brightest of the lot even at only eight.

“Oh, and I know how children are made, mother and father. Rickon and Jon told me,” Bran cheekily informed us with a wide wolfish grin on his boyishly charming face, the spitting image of his father at that age.

“Now what exactly have they told you, Bran?” Cregan asked, half-amused and half-irate at his two eldest mischievous sons of fourteen and thirteen.

“That a direwolf leaves little Starklings at Winterfell’s gate for mum to keep warm in her belly until it’s time for them to come out!” Brandon declared with the utmost confidence. “That’s why no one’s ever seen one in hundreds of years! They have to sneak off in the night to find the next baby, obviously.”

“Obviously,” I laughed as did my husband, relieved that our beautiful boy’s childhood innocence was still preserved, if only for a few more years.

“Rickon, Jonnel, Edric, Beron, Harlon, it’s time for your lessons and I don’t want to hear any complaining! You’ll continue your swordsmanship training tomorrow,” Cregan called to our five eldest from the window, who all would rather be out there in the courtyard wielding a steel blade in their hands than with the maesters learning maths, reading, and writing.

“Yes, father!” They all replied and sheathed their swords in unison as they trudged along inside the castle.

Each growing boy now all easily taller than me, as they all took after their tall, towering father in the respect of stature.

“Gods, but they grow fast,” I sighed, smiling sadly.

Remembering how they all were buy baby Benjen’s age only yesterday, and now would all soon be betrothed in a few years time. With families of their own as their father and I grow old together.

“Not fast enough,” Cregan teased, wrapping his arms around my waist to kiss my neck sweetly. “Gods, I remember when it was just us running around this castle at their age…” He was wistful for our younger days, but I still swatted at him for even saying such a thing, “Only a jest, my love. You know I love our boys as much as you. And we still have six little ones who will need their mother for some time, so don’t you fret, pretty…”

I turned with his arms still tightly wrapped around my waist to give him a proper kiss.

“You are right in that, my love… I do love our beautiful boys, but heaven help us that these two will be girls. Gods know I can’t take two more little Wolves of the North bouncing off Winterfell’s walls…”

#hotd cregan #game of thrones #hotd #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #hotd fanfic #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #cregan x oc #cregan x y/n #cregan fluff #house of the dragon #hotd headcanons #hotd fanart #hotd x reader #hotd fandom #hotdedit #hotd rp

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zorosangell · 4 months ago

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⛥ﾟ・。 sample

synopsis: prequel to pocus -- katakuri's dreams of you come to a head when he learns that the two of you are already engaged to be married. and to make matters worse, your ex-boyfriend makes a rather unpleasant appearance while the sweet commander is picking up his order of doughnuts.

cw: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, katakuri is katakuri, KATAKURI DOES NOT PLAY ABT YOU, he is twenty-one, you are twenty, for context smoothie is eight, your ex is an asshole, katakuri's got it baaad.

a/n: good golly this man is fine

"C-Commander!" you mewled, the pillow under your hips slipping under Katakuri's relentless pace.

His blunt nails dug into the flesh of your hips, a smirk rising to his lips at the way you were already gone.

His hand roamed your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggled with each of his powerful thrusts.

Perfect... plump... round...

Seeing you bend over the ovens at your bakery, he knew it would be.

But seeing it for himself?

Squeezing tighter, he kneaded the supple flesh, strengthening his hold as he adopted a quicker, rougher pace.

"O-Oh, yes! Ngh! Kuri-Kuri f-fuck," you keened, the air in your lungs slowly but surely leaving you. "Feels s'good!"

Your cries drifted far past the room, so far that the Sweet General was sure the servants within the maid's quarters could hear them.

But he wanted you louder.

He wanted you shrieking.

He had wanted this for so long, wanted to feel the way you fit him.

Wanted to hear the way you spoke his name wrapped in pleasure.

Everything of you, he wanted.

Needed.

Katakuri needed you.

Somehow, he'd managed to hold out for this long, but his luck wouldn't last with the way you were clawing the comforter, moans rising as he switched angles.

But in an instant, it was all snatched away.

Breathless, Katakuri shot straight up in his bed, heart thundering in his chest.

Swallowing thickly, he quickly glanced down at his lap, his cum hot and sticky against his skin, and his half-chubbed length angrily confined by his boxers.

It happened again...

A faint flush of pink rose to his cheeks at the sight, the Yonko commander swiftly brought back to the countless other nights where he had awoken to the same scene.

There was something about you, something about your presence that instantly returned him to his teen years—where an ass and a couple of moans could make him cum in his pants.

God, this was wrong.

You were so kind, so sweet, yet his dreams consisted of nothing but ruining you for any and every other man to follow him.

Unable and unwilling to reckon with what your image had just done to him, he settled for flopping back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a blank, annoyed look.

How the hell was he going to face you tomorrow?

"Ah, Commander!" you beamed, warmly waving to the man as he entered through your large door. "I was just about to send Kota."

Quickly, you scurried toward your display case, pulling out the tray with ten, normal-sized doughnuts of varying flavors.

"I've got the samples you ordered right here. Freshly glazed."

Silently, the man nodded, fighting off the flush threatening to rise to his ears as he crossed his arms over his chest.

He avoided all eye contact with you, making a point to look anywhere but your smiling face as he leaned against the wall.

Every time he met your gaze, images of last night would flash in mind, further adding to the pit of guilt already sinking in his chest for thinking of you in such a way.

It made him feel dirty, and suddenly undeserving of your kindness

"Kota, come box these up for me, yeah?" you called, your young apprentice quickly scurrying to your aid.

"Yes, ma'am!" he nodded, carefully taking the tray before returning to the back room

His eagerness made you smile, the sight intensifying the rhythm of Katakuri's heartbeat as he watched you return to your work.

"I know it's not your usual, but I think you'll like the new blueberry lemon doughnut I made this morning," you attempted to strike up a conversation, going back to glazing the rest of the morning's doughnuts. "Smoothie came by earlier and said it's her favorite so far."

Katakuri hummed, seemingly uninterested in what you had to say as he glanced around your huge bakery—the size was accommodating to commoners as well as those of his height.

Confused, your face slightly fell, unsure of what you did to warrant such a cold response.

Sure, the Minister of Flour was not the warmest person you'd ever met, but he certainly wasn't this icy.

Especially not to you.

You figured the both of you were far past this stage, having gone through the whole "stoic and silent" rigmarole months ago.

It took ages to get the Minister of Flour to warm up to you even a little bit, but when he did?

The change was like night and day.

He turned off his observation haki for the first time in...well, who knows how long.

He allowed himself to participate in easy conversation.

Hell, once you could've swore he let out a quiet chuckle at a joke you made.

But all of that seemed to be completely gone now, as if it were never there.

You were one of the Big Mom Pirate's closest and most trusted personal bakers, so you had dealt with your fair share of volatile personalities.

But his was odd, even for a Charlotte.

Just then, the bell on your door let out a delightful little jingle, snapping both yours and Katakuri's attention to the familiar face walking in.

Your eyes went wide, before your brows quickly furrowed in an unsavory scowl.

"Get out."

At that, the man laughed, amused by your somewhat poor attempt at intimidation.

"That's how it is? No hello or how are ya?" he sneered, slowly walking up to the counter.

"Get the hell out of here, Gino! I told you I never wanted to see your face again!"

"(y/n)... baby... c'mon... you really meant tha—?"

"Every damn word," you swiftly answered, taking a large, tentative step back as he continued to approach. "Don't come any closer!"

"Or what? You'll bake me to death? Turn me into a jelly doughnut?" he smirked, mockingly.

You scoffed, quickly turning around and rushing into the backroom, "Kota! Get my bat!"

Annoyed, Gino let out a harsh sigh, moving to lean against the counter before glancing at the Sweet Commander.

"Women, amiright?" he griped, rolling his eyes as he pointed his thumb in your direction. "All this drama for what? Gimme a few minutes to talk and she'll be crawlin' back in no time."

He chuckled to himself, seemingly proud of this "fact".

"She always does."

A vein bulged in Katakuri's forehead at the statement, the furrow in his brows deepening and muscles tightening in an instant.

As he watched your interaction, he waited patiently, gauging your reaction to the man and the danger level in order to plan his response accordingly.

'Looks like they had some sort of romantic relationship... an ex-boyfriend, perhaps?'

Audibly, you were rummaging around in storage, frantically searching for your father's prized baseball bat.

'If she feels such a need to arm herself, then he must have a history of violent behavior... an interaction like this must've turned physical before.'

The man's jaw clenched at the thought, a certain feeling bubbling in his stomach the he had never felt before.

It made him want to gag and flay Gino's remains after a Mochi-flavored beat-down.

'It's settled then.'

"Hey, I just realized... aren't you the—?"

Without hesitation, Katakuri cut off his sentence, his mochi arm wrapping tightly around the scumbag's neck before hoisting him in the air and dragging him forward, until he was finally at his level.

"I am only going to say this once. Fail to follow direction and I will not hesitate to kill you along with your entire family... understand?"

Frantically, the man nodded, utterly wracked with fear.

"Good... now, when I release you, you are going to take the first ship off Whole Cake, continuing to travel on until you make it to Cacao Island. There, you will effectively leave Mama's territory and begin your pitiful attempt at surviving in the New World without her protection."

His grip tightened, further constricting the man's airflow as he continued on.

"If you do not get on that ship, I will know. If you turn around, I will know. If you do not reach Cacao Island by the end of the day, I will know."

Suddenly, an imaged of you flashed in his mind, reminding him of the ultimate reason for his fury.

"And if you so much as look at... think of... or utter my fiancée's name in my presence again... I will see to it personally that your body is put six feet under the ground."

Pulling him closer, Katakuri didn't stop until his face was right in front of Gino's, his fiery, ruby red eyes blazing fiercer than the pits of hell.

See, what Gino couldn't have possibly known was that last night the Sweet Commander had attended an emergency summons from his mother, where he learned that he was engaged to be married to one of Whole Cake Island's most eligible bachlorettes.

You.

Of course, it was a strictly political contract between his mother and your father, and given your rather normal reaction to seeing him in the shop today, he figured your father had failed to tell you yet about the arrangement.

But even still... he now had a responsibility to you.

A responsibility he would not take lightly.

"Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Unable to speak, Gino simply nodded in agreement, practically paralyzed with fear.

With that response, Katakuri swiftly tossed him to the ground, allowing the man to scurry to his feet like the vermin he was.

"Good... now get out of my sight."

The Sweet Commander didn't even fully finish his sentence before Gino was already on the run, sprinting toward the nearest port like a madman.

The sight almost brought a smile to Katakuri's face, were it not for his haki predicting your well-timed approach.

"All right, asshole, you wanna try me now!" you spat, bursting from the backroom with bat in hand.

But, to your surprise, your ex-boyfriend was nowhere to be found, only Katakuri remaining within your small lobby.

"Huh? Where'd he go?" you asked, raising a brow in confusion.

"Away," he answered, curtly, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

"Damn... I really wanted to use this on him..."

"Commander Katakuri, sir!" Kota rushed forward, running out from behind the counter before presenting the man your signature box. "Your sample doughnuts, as requested. I apologize for the wait."

Taking them, he offered a thankful nod, carefully tucking them against his side.

"No need. I understand the... odd circumstances," slowly, his gaze turned to you, his expression somehow turning more serious than it already was. "But doughnuts aren't all I came here for."

For the first time in a long time, nerves seemed to be fluttering in his belly, rendering him partially immobile under your soft gaze.

But he was doing what had to be done.

A woman deserved to know she was getting married before the day of her wedding.

And a woman deserved to know why.

"(y/n)... you and I need to talk... Alone."

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #charlotte katakuri x reader #charlotte #katakuri #katakuri x reader #op #op x reader

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heyimkana · 4 months ago

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thinking about... yandere fiancée jinwoo's reaction when he sees you wearing a pretty dress...

You went away on a business trip to a different city earlier that week, and between your chaotic schedule, you discovered the most elegant and the sexiest red dress you’d ever seen, displayed beautifully behind a tall, glass window on your way to your hotel. Without tarrying too much, you stepped inside the store and tried it on.

The overall design, the way the fabric sit tight on your skin, hugging your curves in all the right places, you looked perfect in it, and perfection was always what you strived to be in his eyes. Although the price was far more expensive than it should've been, you chased all your doubts away. You knew he’d love it, and you couldn’t wait to show it to him once you returned home.

And now, it's time for him to enjoy the surprise.

“Wait here, baby,” you say with a quick peck on his lips, pushing your fiancée down by the shoulders until he sits on the couch. “I have something I wanna show you. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

“All right,” Jinwoo chuckles, amused at the way your excitement brims in your eyes. A short moment after you make your way toward the bedroom, he calls out. “Just to remind you, Angel, we have a dinner reservation at—”

“At eight, yes!” You shout from behind the closed door, undressing yourself with haste. “I'm just changing my dress. It'll only take five minutes, I swear!”

Within minutes, as promised, you've changed into your new dress. You examine yourself one last time in the mirror, your hair and makeup all done to perfection. You huff out a nervous breath. Suddenly, you feel like you're meeting him for your first date again. “Okay, here we go.”

You twine your fingers around the doorknob, raising your voice for him to hear. “Jinwoo, can you close your eyes for a second?”

There's mirth in his voice when he replies, “Sure.”

You walk out of the bedroom, shortening the distance between you. Jinwoo, dressed handsomely in a black suit and tie, white button-down, a pair of dark pants, and a Jaeger-LeCoultre watch circling his wrist, sits patiently on the couch with his eyes closed and his legs spread, his elbows propped on his thighs as he awaits your next command.

You stand before him, trying your best to look confident despite your heart thrashing against your ribcages. “All right, you can open your eyes now.”

Jinwoo’s eyelids flutter open, his eyes widening in an instant as they roam over your figure. His lips part in what seems to be a silent gasp, so utterly bewitched by your beauty that you leave him tongue-tied.

Your heart cheers, dancing in satisfaction. His expression right now is exactly how you wanted it to be.

“So?” You flaunt a tantalizing grin. “What do you think?”

At your question, the awe in his expression morphs into something else. Something dark, something possessive. “How much did it cost?”

“What?” You blink. You had expected a thousand different lines coming out of his mouth, but this is certainly not one of those.

“How much did the dress cost you?” He repeats, more pressure on his words.

“Oh, umm…” You try to recall the price amidst your confusion. “Around three hundred thousand won—”

“I’ll pay you back ten times.”

Jinwoo scoops you up in his arms, and within seconds, you find yourself thrown to the bed. His lips collide against yours, ruining your lipstick as his tongue swipes across them, delving inside the second you gasp against his mouth. Your heart pound clamorously in your ears, your skirt torn from how eager he is to have you spread your legs for him.

His teeth bruise your neck, tasting your perfume while you drown in his aftershave. You tremble beneath the dangerous pleasure he offers you, your mind reeling at how quickly he gets your body hot and ready for him.

Jinwoo moves away just to stand on his knees before you, his gaze heavy, clouded with lust. He discards his suit before he takes off his belt with one hand and loosens his tie with the other. You can't tear your gaze away from him, swallowing your breath at the way he rips the top buttons of his collar as his impatience takes over him. His toned chest, now half-exposed, rises and falls with intense desire, all because of you.

Jinwoo doesn't utter a word, but you can see the effect you have on him. You've never looked so perfect, so sexy, and so fucking pretty in his eyes that he has no option left but to toss away all his self-control and take you right then.

He hasn't even touched you yet, and you already feel the knots in your stomach tautening merely from his hungry gaze. “W-wait,” you settle your hands on his chest as he positions himself between your legs. “Our reservation—”

He pins your wrists over your head, seizing them with one hand. “Fuck the reservation,” he says, almost in a low growl, his lips a breath away from yours. “We’re not leaving this bed until I’m done with you.”

And from the way he presses down on you, his cock throbbing against your core, you can tell it's going to take hours until then.

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saywhat-politics · 2 months ago

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Louisiana’s controversial law requiring public schools and colleges to post the Ten Commandments violates the U.S. Constitution and cannot be enforced, a federal appeals court ruled unanimously Friday, upholding a lower court’s decision and raising the possibility that the U.S. Supreme Court will be asked to weigh in.

A three-judge panel on the 5th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that the law, which took effect Jan. 1, is "plainly unconstitutional." The ruling affirms a lower court’s order barring the state from enforcing the law, which says that Ten Commandments posters printed in “large, easily readable font” must be displayed in every classroom.

BREAKING: In a unanimous decision, a federal court of appeals has ruled that Louisiana's law requiring the Ten Commandments to be displayed in all public school classrooms is unconstitutional.

We’ll keep saying it: Public schools are not Sunday schools.

#louisiana #law #public schools #ten commandments #unconstitutional #5th u.s. circuit court of appeals

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carnalcrows · 6 months ago

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DISOBEDIENCE - INHO

pairing: inho x dom! male reader

synopsis: When the normally composed Front Man disobeys, his lover steps in to deliver a firm but intimate punishment, breaking his pride and leaving him vulnerable—only to patch him back together with tender, loving care.

content warnings: 18+, sub!inho, spanking, a little aftercare at the end

word count: 0.8k

A/N: I forgot where the request went my bad g

The control room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the monitors displaying the games in progress. You sat behind the large desk, watching the feeds in silence. Across from you stood In-ho, the Front Man, his mask clutched tightly in his hand. His usually commanding presence was subdued, his shoulders slightly hunched, his gaze avoiding yours.

“You know why you’re here,” you began, your voice cold but steady.

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I do.”

You leaned back in your chair, your gaze sharp and unyielding. “Then tell me why you thought it was acceptable to disobey my direct orders.”

He shifted uncomfortably, his grip on the mask tightening. “I… thought my decision was the better one,” he admitted reluctantly. “I was trying to—”

“You were trying to what?” you interrupted, your tone cutting through his excuse like a blade. “Undermine me? Prove that you’re above following instructions?”

“No,” he said quickly, his eyes darting to yours, desperation flickering in their depths. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“But that’s what you did,” you countered, standing and walking around the desk. Each step you took echoed in the tense silence, the air between you heavy with anticipation. “You’re supposed to be my right hand, In-ho. My enforcer. If you can’t follow orders, what message does that send to everyone else?”

He didn’t reply, his head bowing slightly as shame crept into his expression.

“Look at me,” you commanded, and after a moment of hesitation, he obeyed. His dark eyes met yours, a mix of defiance and vulnerability swirling within them.

“You’ve made a mess,” you said quietly, stepping closer. “And now, I have to clean it up. But first, I need to ensure you understand the weight of your actions.”

His breath hitched as you reached out, brushing a gloved finger along his jawline. He held your gaze, though his hands trembled slightly at his sides. You could see the tension in his body, the battle between his pride and the guilt that gnawed at him.

“Take off the jacket,” you instructed, your voice low but firm.

In-ho hesitated for only a moment before shrugging off the sleek black coat of his uniform, letting it fall to the floor. His crisp white shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the collar, his stoic mask slipping to reveal the man underneath. The vulnerability made him seem almost human—almost.

You guided him to lean over the desk, his hands gripping the edge tightly. The room was silent except for the sound of his breathing, uneven and shallow. You slowly pulled his pants and boxers down before your hand came down with a sharp smack against his ass, the sound echoing in the confined space. He jolted, a quiet gasp escaping his lips, though he didn’t resist.

“This is about trust,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind. “And you broke it.”

Another strike, more deliberate this time, drew a stifled groan from him. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the desk harder, his composure slipping with each stinging blow.

“Do you think I enjoy this?” you asked, leaning close to his ear. “Do you think I want to punish you like this?”

“No,” he choked out, his voice strained. “I— I understand.”

“Good,” you murmured, your hand lingering for a moment before trailing up his spine, a touch both punishing and comforting. “Because if this happens again, the consequences will be far more severe.”

Another, after another, the sounds of your hand striking his ass filled the room, with him counting every single one.

“Fuck– that’s ten, sir,” he whimpered, feeling the sting all the way to his cock, making his brain go mushy.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson from this In-ho,” you said sternly, your hand massaging the flesh before striking it once more.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he nodded, his breathing ragged. “I won’t disobey you again,” he whispered. “I promise.”

You straightened, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I know you won’t,” you said softly, the edge in your voice replaced with something gentler. “You’re better than this, In-ho. Don’t make me doubt you again.”

He turned to face you, his usually stoic expression crumbling into something raw and exposed. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

You reached out, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re forgiven,” you said, your thumbs brushing away the faint traces of tears. “But don’t forget why this happened.”

“I won’t,” he vowed, his voice steadier now. “I swear it.”

You nodded, offering him a faint smile before pulling him into an embrace. His body relaxed against yours, the tension finally melting away as you held him close.

“You’re mine to trust,” you whispered into his ear, your voice both a promise and a warning. “Don’t make me regret it.”

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sugurusfavemonkey · 1 month ago

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Nanami's weapons of mass destruction™

"my eyes are up here" prompt for nanami week day 1 w/c: 1.8k content: no actual smut but I'm still gonna tag this as nsfw due to suggestive themes and crass language, therefore mdni; crack; tiddies™; reader wears a bra; reader is in a male dominated field with the objectification of our favorite corporate dropout's boobies; nanami art: @/xiaoshy_otp on x; divider: @strangergraphics

You'd never jeopardize your professional relationship by displaying obvious signs of attraction, but, objectively speaking, Nanami Kento was a very handsome man. Even Ino could corroborate your thesis. In fact, Nanami's apprentice is always more than happy to express his admiration for said man in any and all departments.

That being said, nobody could blame you if your eyes kept wandering down throughout his speech every time he so much as breathed in. It's not your fault that his shirt stretched obscenely over his chest, revealing glimpses of deliciously tan skin through buttons that seemed to be fighting for their lives under the strain.

You licked your dry lips, fire burning in the pit of your stomach, your brain conjuring the wildest scenarios, some of which the blue shirt would simply burst open, buttons flying everywhere... Your fingers twitched aimlessly at your side with the strong pull of just reaching out and squeezing his pecs - you had a feeling the sensation would be heavenly, brain chemistry altering, a life-changing experience.

"... have you been listening to a single word of what I just said?" his stern tone brought you out of your daydream, eyes flying up to meet his golden eyes already set on you in a reproving glare worthy of a disappointed parent. You automatically shrank on your seat, shoulders hunching in to appear smaller.

"Hmm?" you went for the innocent look, wide eyes glancing at him from underneath your lashes.

Nanami clenched his jaw before sighing dejectedly, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose to fight off the incoming migraine of dealing with another undisciplined sorcerer.

"I understand this is a very tedious subject to you, but I need your attention right now. Let's not make this longer than it needs to be, so we can both move on with our lives."

Logically, he stood absolutely correct: it was crucial to absorb all the information Nanami had been spewing at you if you hoped to survive. You truly wanted to be dutiful and actually listen to his debrief… but then he crossed his arms and you were doomed.

Those things were contradicting every single law of physics. How was it even possible for those knockers to stay confined within the fabric when he squeezed them together like that? It shouldn't be possible for a man to have such a large chest.

"Hmhmm," you nodded, completely incapable of listening to a single word but still pretending to the best of your ability.

Not even ten seconds had passed, and the words died on his throat at the realization that he had, once again, lost you. Nanami called your name, exasperation pouring from his every pore. His tone only added fuel to your unholy thoughts. The fact that Nanami not only owned a huge pair of bazookas, but also a deep raspy voice that was the perfect mix of alluring and commanding was unfair for the remainder of the male specimens.

"Yes?" Your response came out mindlessly, gaze still lost in the expanse of his chest.

"My eyes are up here."

That's what it took to get you out of your own head, his words finally seeming to reach some point of your consciousness. Your entire body went rigid, a shiver running down your spine upon the sheer humiliation of being caught ogling your colleague, with whom you were supposed to maintain a respectful relationship.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. For all of the excuses you had conjured in your head before now, all of them seemed to have vanished. Finally, some resemblance of rationality reached your spaced-out brain as you floundered an explanation:

"I k-know! Lovely eyes, by the way. I just- I couldn't really help myself," you bit your lip, trying your best to not let your eyes roam, "it's- the shirt!" You blurted eventually.

Kento glanced down at his own shirt, brows furrowing in confusion, "what about the shirt? Is it dirty? buttoned up wrong, perhaps?"

"No! It's perfect, pristine even, as usual. Lovely shade of blue, brings out your eyes and hair really," you rambled on, hoping to escape the awkwardness that would certainly follow if you revealed your actual reasoning.

"And that warranted your gawking...?"

You averted your gaze to the floor, fixating on a suspicious-looking stain on the wooden boards.

"Not... exactly. It's not really the shirt, more so your chest?"

"My chest?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Nanami! Do I have to spell it? Yes, your goddamn titties have been staring me in the face for the past twenty minutes and you expect me not to gawk?"

"I don't have-"

"Yes, you do! You have huge bazookas, weapons of mass destruction, if you will. So buff, your shirt is nearly bursting at the seams, and the buttons are holding on by a flat-out miracle. Those huge fucking melons and I'm the one who has to wear a bra!"

The redness in Nanami's face spread more and more with each word coming out of your mouth, reaching the tips of his ears and rushing down to his chest.

"I apologize for causing such a distraction, I think."

"Are you kidding me?! I've literally been peeping at you when you're just trying to do your job! I'm the one who owes you an apology! It's not your fault your work at the gym has been paying off... or maybe you've just lucked out on the genetics lottery and bought a shirt one size too small and my tiny, stupid bird brain cannot handle the sight," you babbled until you saw Nanami's shoes step into your vision field. You hadn't even realized he had gotten up and around his desk so he could approach.

Your eyes flew up to meet his, avoiding stopping anywhere near his chest.

"I have been working out more often lately," he mentioned casually.

"See!" You waved one hand widely, gesturing to his large pectoral muscles, "and it shows! Beautifully, may I add."

"Thank you. I guess."

"You're welcome! Maybe consider investing in some new shirts in a bigger size," you suggested, immediately wincing at your own boldness.

"I will." Kento declared to appease your nerves and then paused, eyes searching your face, "while on the subject, let me tell you that you do not have a 'stupid bird brain'."

"Only tiny?" You questioned teasingly, glad to see how easily he seemed to be taking your lack of professionalism and using his breech to make the atmosphere lighter.

"No. Not that, either," he smiled and you could've sworn there was a playful glint to his honey colored eyes, "easily distracted, but not tiny. You tend to be very intelligent when it matters."

"That's a really big compliment coming from Mister 7:3 sorcerer."

Nanami chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's the truth."

There was a halt in the conversation, which you should have used to steer away from the gauche topic, yet you just had to further embarrass yourself:

"Since we're being honest and putting our cards on the table, can I make a teensy tiny request?" You rushed to give him an out, "feel free to deny it, by the way!"

"Go ahead," Nanami nodded once, curious.

"May I touch them?" Your voice came out meek, almost a whisper, but still loud enough for the blond man to hear.

"You want to... touch-"

"You're right. I'm sorry. That was too much." You cut him off, desperate to save what little dignity you still had (if you even had any).

"I'll admit, your request took me by surprise. Will-" he cleared his throat, "will touching them help you regain your focus?"

"Absolutely!" You nodded vigorously, perking up at the notion that your dream might come true after all.

You jumped up from your seat, restraining yourself from actively bouncing from joy so as to not spook Nanami with your eagerness lest he change his mind.

"So, how do we-"

He had barely started when your hands had already reached for his pecs, one around each mound.

"Holy- How are they soft but firm at the same time?! This is incredible," you giggled before squeezing them twice for good measure.

"Muscle can appear supple unless flexed," Nanami explained matter-of-factly. His pragmatic response was misleading, though. If it wasn't for the deep flush permeating his skin and his sharp intake of air, you would have guessed he was wholly unbothered by the situation.

"Can you-"

You squealed in delight when he flexed before you even finished asking. You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall to your sides and throwing a bright smile his way.

"Did you get your fill?"

"I did," you stepped back, hands tightly clasped together behind you. "Thank you."

"Alright. Now that we've got that out of the way," Kento stopped on his tracks, noting just where your gaze zoned right back in to. "You said you would focus."

"Yeah. That was a complete lie. I don't think my brain will ever function properly again after this experience. It's all I can think about."

You knew Nanami was tired of your antics by then, but you still had quite a bit to say:

"You know what's incredible? That not only do you have these massive jugs, a tiny waist, and a perfectly round and perky tush, but you're also respectable, kind, and generous enough to let a mere peasant such as myself hold them." You paused briefly, shrugging before adding, "I just wanna bury my face in your chest. I feel like that would fix all of my problems."

You did it. Nanami was permanently scarred. That's the only plausible explanation for the face you were seeing. His parted lips, impossibly pink ears, and wide eyes were a novelty to you when compared to his usual stoic and unmoving facade.

"Now it was too much," you concluded.

Kento shook his head, "we have work to do right now, but if you manage to refocus on our business so we can finish this debrief, I promise you can touch to your heart's content."

"For real?"

"Very much so. You can even 'bury your face in my chest' if you want." Nanami's eyes followed the curves of your body down to your feet and back up to your own, his gaze darkening, "as long as I get to touch back, that is."

"Excuse me?" Your jaw dropped, molten heat rushing through your veins.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but you have been showering me with compliments all evening. What if I wanted to return the favor? It's only fair."

Maybe there are some perks to letting go of your filter every once in while...

a/n: look who's back after literal months of unannounced hiatus? Not really, though. I don't know if I'll even submit anything for the other days of Nanami week, but the prompt for day one did give me a burst of inspiration I haven't felt in a long time, so you have this short piece.

#nnweek25nsfw #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x you #nanami crack #nanami fluff #kento x reader

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in-sightpublishing · 11 months ago

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FFRF awards almost $20,000 to 2024 high school essay winners

Publisher: In-Sight Publishing Publisher Founding: September 1, 2014 Publisher Location: Fort Langley, Township of Langley, British Columbia, Canada Publication: Freethought Newswire Original Link: https://ffrf.org/news/releases/ffrf-awards-almost-20000-to-2024-high-school-essay-winners/ Publication Date: September 4, 2024 Organization: Freedom From Religion Foundation Organization…

#Annie Laurie Gaylor #First Amendment rights #Freedom From Religion Foundation #Hirsh M. Joshi #Jefferson County Courthouse #Ten Commandments display

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theonion · 9 months ago

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In an effort to provide all developing fetuses in the state with a thorough grounding in Judeo-Christian values, a new bill was signed into law Tuesday that requires the Ten Commandments to be displayed in every womb in Oklahoma. “With this landmark law mandating the Ten Commandments be hung on every pregnant woman’s uterine wall, Oklahoma pushes back against attempts to secularize our wombs,” said Gov. Kevin Stitt, explaining that the law will order healthcare providers to install the clearly visible intrauterine religious doctrine as soon as possible after conception, with both women and their doctors being subject to fines for failure to comply. Full Story

#the onion #politics #news

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returnofeternity · 3 days ago

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part 2 of roommate perv lottie that got caught jerking off because i absolutely need her perv ass

pairing: transfem!lottie matthews x fem!reader

genre: 18+

wc: 988

fic note. part 1 if you need a refresher

· · 𐂂 · ·

dinner's painfully awkward, and lottie's painfully hard.

it took her a good ten minutes just to calm herself down from the embarrassment of getting caught, and another five minutes just to try and get rid of her boner after getting dressed. no matter what, it wouldn't go down.

part of her didn't want it to go down. she wanted to strut out there with it on display for you, because of you.

you were already at the dinner table with your plate of food when she decided to come out of her room. she couldn't look you in the eye as she walked past and headed into the kitchen for her plate, but she could clearly see you looking down at her pants out of the corner of her eyes.

when she walked back and took a brave glance at you, she nearly dropped her plate in shock. there it was, still open on the exact page she was touching herself to.

the magazine.

her body shook violently as she took her seat across from you, and she internally screamed when she accidentally dropped her fork onto the plate with a loud clank. she made some awkward grumbling sound in the back of her throat, serving as her way of saying "sorry."

but now it's been minutes of dreadful silence, and lottie's just dying to know how you really feel about her.

"are you mad?" her voice cracks a little as she asks.

lottie's eyes light up a little when you look up at her, and she sits up a little straighter.

pathetic.

you finish chewing before you speak. "am i mad that i caught you jerking off to a model who looks like me?" lottie deflates in her chair, and she looks down at the floor in shame. it makes you feel so incredibly good to see her like this, to see your roommate who you thought was just shy end up being an awkward pervert who has a crush on you. "i'm pissed."

it's a lie, but for the wrong reason. still, you love the way she immediately looks back up and gives you desperate puppy eyes.

her voice is whiny as she talks. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see it. i'm ashamed i even bought it."

is she?

"your first mistake is using a magazine when you could've used me." you scold, looking deep into her teary eyes that widen at your words.

she's breathless and excited and a little shocked. she has to bite her lip softly when her cock throbs in her sweatpants. her fingers pinch the edges of the table, keeping her from swaying back and forth in a daze. all she can think about is your body and fucking it. not that she hasn't thought about it before, but now that you've said it, she's imagining much more.

lottie's heart picks up when your chair screeches against the floor, and she watches with wide eyes as you walk over with a smile on your face. she feels small for once in her life as you look down at her, and she gulps so hard that it's audible as you push her dish to the side and sit down on the table.

the air in the room feels tight and hot suddenly. or maybe that's just the heat you can feel radiating off lottie's body that makes you sweat so hard.

you look her up and down, and you can't help the chuckle that leaves your lips when you spot the wet patch on her sweatpants from her leaky cock.

"get up." you command.

satisfaction fills your body when she does what you say immediately, standing (awkwardly) at attention like you're her officer.

something is definitely standing at attention for you…

her cock, which brushes just barely againstyour kneecap, visibly twitches, and lottie's lips quiver as she struggles to compose herself.

she lets out the cutest squeak when your hands touch her shoulders, pushing her back so you can scoot onto the table more. her shaking hands are gripping the sides of her sweats, accidentally pulling them back against her body and giving you the most perfect outline of her girlcock.

leaning back a little on your arms, you spread your legs and grin at her.

"now show me how good you can fuck, loser."

she blacks out for a second, but then she snaps out of it and hurriedly slips down her sweatpants. they're not even past her thighs as she scrambles to you and grabs at your waist desperately, dragging you close to her.

"thank you." her voice is all choked up, and it nearly sounds like she's crying from happiness. she thanks you over and over again while rubbing her cock into your thigh, trembling hands trying to pry off your shorts.

"gonna make you addicted to my cock." she mutters, finally getting your shorts and underwear off with one big, frantic tug. the table moves and the dishes rattle against it as she scoots closer to you, and she wastes no time before grabbing her cock and poking her head against your hole.

"oh, fuck. please let me cum inside. please? i promise i'll go straight to the store and get you the pill after." she's babbling desperately, hips stuttering as she barely moves in and out.

she's already gone before she's even inside. how cute and pathetic.

instead of answering, you hook your legs around her waist and dig your heels against her ass, forcing her inside completely. you've been wet ever since you caught her almost half an hour ago, so it doesn't take that much effort for her to bottom out.

she starts slamming her hips roughly against yours, and you go slack-jawed. it feels so nice and big inside of you, and you feel so full that you almost forget to answer her request.

"buy some condoms while you're there."

#anon #yellowjackets x reader #transfem lottie #lottie matthews thoughts 💭#© returnofeternity #lottie matthews x reader

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winxanity-ii · 11 months ago

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LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

ship: fashion designer!gojo x fem!model!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimualtion; p in v ; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 6.6k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀) A/N: Hey, bubbly-bear! just wanted to let you know i've moved from my my alt account to my main one, so i'm posting your request here…

Request:Hello! I had a lil gojo x reader idea but if you aren’t vibing with it please dont feel like you have to write it, or change it how you see fit! BUT I feel like Guess (ft. Billie E.) By Charlie xcx is so Gojo coded and I would love to see a fic based off of it if possible :)

p.s. mwaaaaahhhhh, thx you so much for being my first request, hope i did you justice 😩✨

This line from the song just stood out to me and i just had to write it:

I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it Pull it to the side and get all up in it Kiss it, ride it, can I fit it?

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Turn your head like that—yes, perfect! Raise your chin a little more. Hold it!" The head photographer's voice cut through the organized chaos, every word precise and demanding. "Lighting! Can we adjust the back light, it's catching too much glare!" Another barked command as assistants scurried to fix the harsh spotlight casting an overexposed halo on you. "Makeup! Fix the lipstick; it's smudged." The pace had been relentless, as it always was on set. The camera had clicked, capturing each second of your endurance, but all you could focus on was the way your body ached.

Your feet, crammed into designer heels, screamed for relief, and your back burned from holding poses longer than it felt natural. You shifted your weight slightly, hoping no one noticed as the clicks of the camera went on like rapid fire.

"Alright, people, ten-minute break!" Finally, the head photographer clapped his hands, giving everyone the much-needed signal to stop.

A bell rang faintly in the background, and your shoulders slumped as you let out a groan.

You dropped the strained pose you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. You rolled your neck, feeling the tension snap and release in your joints.

The lights dimmed slightly as Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuji sauntered over from the swimwear shoot, and you couldn't help but notice how their outfits screamed for attention—both in completely different ways.

Nobara was in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit, the top barely enough to cover her small bust, accentuating her slim waist. The delicate straps dug into her skin as she pulled at them, clearly annoyed, though the outfit highlighted her toned frame with every step she took.

The bottom piece clung to her hips, just barely covering enough to maintain some modesty, with high-cut sides that emphasized her long legs.

Despite the discomfort written across her face, Nobara moved with confidence, her slender figure not going unnoticed by the photographers still milling around.

She scrunched her nose. "This swimsuit is killing me," she muttered, fingers fidgeting with the ties around her waist. "Honestly, whose idea was it to make swimwear this uncomfortable?"

Yuji, in contrast, had an air of ease about him, rocking a pair of matching swim trunks that coordinated with Nobara's outfit—an intentional design that somehow made their shoot feel like a playful, couples-themed editorial.

His bare chest gleamed under the studio lights, each of his perfectly sculpted abs on display as though carved by a sculptor. His body was toned yet muscular, the kind of physique that didn’t need fancy clothes to stand out.

With sun-kissed skin and that infectious grin, Yuji could have made wearing anything look effortless.

"C'mon, Nobara, we don't have that much longer. Besides, you look great," Yuji said, his voice lighthearted as always.

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, says the guy who could wear a trash bag and still smile like it's no big deal."

You let out a quiet chuckle as Yuji gave you a wink before being called away to review some of the shots. He shot you a playful smile over his shoulder as he walked off, his broad back flexing slightly under the pressure of moving around in the hot lights.

"Ugh, I swear, if Yuji keeps this up, I'm going to barf," Nobara muttered, shaking her head as she sidled up next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

The two of you made your way toward the refreshments table, where the scattered models and assistants buzzed like bees around a honey pot.

You could feel the material of your own outfit shift as you moved, the delicate knitted vest you wore slightly hugging your upper body. It was all part of the 'clean girl' aesthetic your stylist had chosen for you—a knitted cream-colored vest over a crisp white blouse, paired with a pleated schoolgirl skirt that swayed with every step.

It was simple, yet chic—the kind of outfit that made you feel both elegant and casual at the same time.

Yet, despite its light, airy look, the long hours standing in the heels were starting to make your feet scream. The snug fit of the vest only heightened the strain on your tired muscles, adding to the sense of exhaustion.

Nobara leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming as if she was about to share the juiciest tidbit of gossip she had yet. "So, did you hear about Kaori and that photographer? Apparently, they got caught in one of the back dressing rooms."

You raised a brow, barely hiding your amusement. "Kaori? The one who's been eyeing everyone since day one?."

"Oh, and you didn't hear this from me," Nobara continued, lowering her voice even more, "but Sumi told me that Yuji's been getting cozy with that new model, Megumi. You know, the quiet one? Well, they—"

You groaned, cutting her off. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing all the messy things?"

Nobara rolled her eyes dramatically, her lips curling into a smirk. "Never~" she said, before nodding toward the side entrance. Her voice took on a mischievous edge as she added, "Just like I know you never get tired of denying that your new stylist wants to fuck you."

You practically choked, your eyes widening as the words hit you. "W-What?" you sputtered, your face heating up. You let out a shaky laugh, then coughed, trying to gather yourself. "Stop saying that…"

Nobara's smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, come on. The man practically undresses you with his eyes every time he's around. You can't tell me you don't notice the way he looks at you. The man's got designs on more than just your clothes, babe."

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you averted your gaze, unsure how to respond.

It was hard to deny that your stylist's hands lingered just a bit too long during fittings, or that his gaze seemed a little too intense when he adjusted the fabrics on your body.

The clean, tailored looks he designed for you always felt more intimate than the pieces he created for other models. But surely, it was just part of his meticulous nature, right?

"I-It's just professional," you stammered, glancing down at the drink in your hand, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the growing knot in your stomach. "He's focused on the designs, Nobara. That's it."

Nobara snorted, giving you a knowing look. "Yeah, okay. If by ‘designs’ you mean figuring out how to get under your clothes, then sure. But I mean, I'm not complaining. If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck him."

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you both, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. You felt his presence before you saw him.

There, leaning casually against the side of the refreshment table, was Gojo Satoru, the man in question.

His signature smirk played on his lips as those piercing, ice-blue eyes of his scanned over you over his shades, and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on your skirt.

"Ladies," Satoru drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too scandalous?"

Nobara raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look before stepping back. "Oh no, nothing at all. We were just talking about your... designs," she said with a sly grin before stepping back. "Guess, I'll leave you two to it," she teased, nudging you as she walked away.

And just like that, you were left alone with him, heart racing as you met his eyes. His grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"So..." Satoru murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in slightly. "Anything you'd like to confess?"

Your throat went dry, and you could only shake your head, praying that he hadn't overheard Nobara's playful remarks.

But judging by the gleam in his eyes, you had a feeling he probably had.

Your heart raced as you tried to compose yourself, swallowing back the nerves rising in your throat. You forced a smile, though it felt shaky at best. "I don't have anything to confess," you said, attempting to keep your voice light. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Satoru's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming as he straightened up, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, "you could help me with something."

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Before you could ask what he meant, two of Satoru's assistants appeared at his side, as if on cue, each one wearing the kind of professionalism that didn't quite mask the urgency in their steps.

Without explanation, they began to gently but firmly usher you toward the changing quarters.

"W-Wait—what's going on?" you stammered, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru, who followed behind leisurely, his long strides giving him an air of complete control. "Why am I changing? I thought my shoot was almost over?"

"Oh, nothing much," Satoru sing-songed, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. "I just had a chat with the higher-ups about pushing up the date for a few of our theme releases. Ya'know, rearranging which models get which looks."

Your confusion only deepened, and you blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of his words as you were guided toward a small room at the end of the hallway. "But—what does that have to do with—"

You trailed off as you stepped into the changing room and saw the mannequin sitting in the center. It was draped in an outfit that made your breath catch in your throat. A short leather miniskirt, sleek and shimmering, paired with a crop bodycon top that clung to the mannequin’s torso like a second skin

The entire ensemble was a bold combination of black and silver, with metallic bangles adorning the arms and a choker embedded with silver and black accents.

But what truly caught your attention was the soft sheen of baby blue that ran through the outfit—a shade that was eerily similar to the blue of Satoru's eyes.

You stared at the outfit for a moment, taking in the platform boots that completed the look, their towering heels intimidating yet alluring. The whole ensemble screamed nightlife, clubbing, a world of flashing lights and pulsing music.

It was striking, to say the least.

The assistants wasted no time, setting down various items on a nearby table while preparing the room for your quick change. But you stood frozen, blinking again as realization slowly dawned.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an almost lazy amusement.

"You're joking," you muttered, half in disbelief.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You glanced back at the mannequin, the black and silver catching the light in a way that made the outfit seem even more eye-catching.

The baby blue accents shimmered faintly, bringing your thoughts right back to Satoru, his confident smirk and those eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

The outfit looked like it had been designed for you—and only you.

The assistants were already moving around, gesturing for you to start changing, but your mind was still reeling. "You... moved up the schedule?"

"Had a feeling this look was perfect for you," Satoru said casually, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Wanted to see it on you sooner rather than later."

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your chest as you stared at the mannequin once more.

The way Satoru's gaze lingered on you sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if this entire thing had been orchestrated just for his amusement, his design, his vision.

The assistants handed you the top, a fitted crop that shimmered in the light, the baby blue accents standing out against the metallic silver.

You reluctantly grabbed it from them as they moved off to remove the other pieces from the mannequin.

The room felt warmer all of a sudden, like the air had thickened, and you couldn’t shake the tension prickling at the back of your neck.

You lifted your gaze only to find Satoru already staring at you, his eyes locked on yours in a way that made your breath hitch. You cleared your throat, your voice shaky as you tried to break the spell. "Shouldn't you leave? I need to change."

Instead of moving, his lips curved into that trademark smirk that always made your stomach flip. "I'll have to stay and oversee things. You know, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. I can swoop in and fix anything if needed."

Your face burned, heat rushing to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air.

You weren't naïve. You'd worked with dozens of stylists before, all of them meticulous, always staying to make sure the fit was perfect. But none of them ever made your skin tingle the way Satoru did.

None of them ever watched you like they were imagining a thousand different things beneath the clothes. And none of them ever made you feel like you were burning alive from the inside out with just a look.

Heart pounding, you turned away, hoping to escape his gaze. You began undressing, slipping out of your current outfit.

Each movement felt amplified, like you could feel the air around you, charged with tension. You reached behind yourself, trying to steady your breathing as you fumbled with the zipper.

You could practically feel his eyes on you, mapping out your body, lingering on every curve as if he could see right through the fabric.

Your skin prickled, the sensation of his gaze making it hard to even think straight. Every breath felt labored, every second stretched too long.

As you reached behind to unclip your bralette, your fingers trembling slightly, you felt a pair of hands cover yours—large, warm, and deliberate.

The shock froze you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

"Allow me to help you with that…" His voice was low, velvety, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

The world narrowed to that moment, the heat of his presence overwhelming your senses. His fingers gently brushed against yours as he unhooked your bralette, the touch feather-light but filled with an unspoken promise.

You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the room suddenly too small, too hot, with Satoru towering behind you, his hands so close, too close.

Every nerve in your body screamed in protest, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest as a low pulse of desire curled through your veins.

His hands slid away as he stepped back, giving you room, but the mark of his touch lingered long after he'd let go.

It left you breathless, the space between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air.

Satoru's smirk never wavered, his eyes still locked onto yours in the reflection of the mirror. "There..." he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "...All done."

You stuttered out a soft, breathless, "Thank you," barely able to get the words out before Satoru turned on his heel. His presence seemed to consume the room, but as he barked an order to one of his assistants, the pressure finally lifted.

"Adjust the lighting for the next setup! And I want the backdrop changed in five minutes!" Satoru's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. With one last glance over his shoulder at you, he strode away, leaving the room in a whirlwind of activity.

As soon as he was gone, it felt like you could finally breathe again. The air in the room cooled, the weight of his lingering presence fading, though not entirely.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled the leather skirt up over your hips, the fabric snug against your skin. Satoru's assistant helped you with the bodycon top, tugging it into place, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric as it clung to your curves.

The outfit was bold—almost too bold—but it fit like a second skin, highlighting every line of your body in the way only Satoru's designs could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of camera clicks, flashing lights, and endless posing. Hours slipped by, the sun gradually lowering as the shoot continued, stretching longer than expected.

Nanami Kento, the photographer overseeing everything, was a perfectionist. His no-nonsense attitude left no room for error, and his eye for detail was unmatched.

He had insisted on waiting for the natural dusk light, arguing that it would complement the metallic sheen of your outfit and bring out the best in the overall composition.

You had worked with Kento before. His bluntness and unwavering pursuit of perfection made him a tough taskmaster, but he was one of the best in the industry.

Shoots paired with him always led to increased success. His images captured not just the clothes, but the mood, the essence of the model wearing them.

He and Satoru were at the top of their game right now, the dynamic power duo behind many successful campaigns, and you couldn't deny how they both pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

"…And… that's a wrap!" Kento's voice finally cut through the endless camera clicks, sharp and definitive. The faint ring of a bell followed, signaling the end of the shoot.

You exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders.

The shoot had taken the remainder of the day, from midday to the last golden rays of dusk.

The combination of Satoru's exacting demands—making you pose in just the right way to show off the outfit—and Kento's insistence on perfect lighting meant you'd spent hours standing, twisting, and holding uncomfortable poses.

The tightness in your back and shoulders made it clear how long you had been at it. Your feet ached in the platform boots, and your muscles screamed for rest.

As the assistants began to pack away the equipment, the space slowly emptied out. The other models and staff had long since finished their own shoots and left, leaving only you and a skeleton crew behind.

The studio, once alive with chaos, was now eerily quiet, the low hum of final tasks being completed the only sound in the background.

You peeled yourself away from the set and made your way back to the dressing room, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt with every step.

The corridors were deserted now, with most of the team having wrapped up hours ago. The silence was almost jarring after the noise and flurry of the day.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body protesting as you moved.

Finally, you reached your dressing room, the door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The sight of the empty space—the vanity mirror now bare, clothes and shoes scattered—was a welcome relief.

The day had been long, but now you could unwind.

As you closed the door behind you, the quiet settled over you like a blanket, offering you the peace you desperately needed.

You stumbled into the room, barely keeping yourself upright as exhaustion weighed down your limbs. Practically dead on your feet, you began peeling off the clothes that had felt glued to your body for the last several hours.

The crop top slipped off first, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

You didn't care where it landed as you walked over to the couch in the center of the room, facing a large squared mirror. Each step felt like a weight being lifted from your sore muscles.

A cool draft brushed against your bare torso, making you shiver slightly as it passed over the sheen of sweat from the long day. Your fingers worked at the accessories next, unfastening the bangles around your wrists and dropping them carelessly.

The metal clanked against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet space. You massaged your sore wrists, the cool air soothing the raw skin where the jewelry had pressed tight against you.

Your fingers then moved to the choker at your neck, tugging it free and letting it fall beside the rest, relieved to feel the soft touch of air against your throat.

Your mind began to drift, wandering somewhere far away from the chaos of the day. You thought about what you'd do when you got home.

Maybe snack on those yogurt bites you found at the grocery store earlier that week. Or maybe you can finally binge-watch that series you'd been meaning to catch up on.

The thought made you feel a little lighter.

Hell, you can even spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing, you have nothing booked!

You were right in the middle of imagining your lazy day ahead, fingers working the clasp of your bralette, when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey! I'm—" Your arms instinctively rose to catch your slipping bra before it could fall completely. Your heart raced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

You looked up at the large mirror in front of you, eyes wide, only to lock gazes with Satoru, lounging casually against the doorway as if he had all the time in the world.

"—undressing," you finished, your voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Satoru's lips curved into a faint smirk, his gaze shameless as it raked over your disheveled appearance. He tilted his head slightly, looking over his shades at the scattered accessories and top on the floor. "You know," he said, his voice light with a playful edge, "you really shouldn't leave my designs lying around like that. It's almost disrespectful."

For a moment, you thought he'd bend down to pick up the items—his creations, after all. But instead, he strolled right past them, making his way toward you.

Your breath hitched, your body freezing in place as his steps closed the distance between you.

Satoru's eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, were darker now, more intense as they followed the lines of your form.

He moved with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. And as he reached your side, standing just behind you, his presence loomed, filling the small space with the heat of his gaze.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the cool draft that had once been a relief now doing little to cool the flush rising across your skin.

Satoru stepped even closer, the heat radiating from him making the cool draft on your bare skin feel like a distant memory. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room until all you could focus on was the warmth seeping from him and the way his gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, almost idle, "a lot of my best designs… they're not the ones I spend weeks perfecting." His words drifted through the air like a secret. He raised a hand, his fingertips brushing lightly against the faint indents the choker had left on your neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. "No… the ones that really stand out," he continued, "are the ones that light up in my mind every time you fall into my vision."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer, his chest now just inches from your back.

The heat from his body wrapped around you like a second skin, and you watched him through the mirror, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he spoke.

His hand, warm and deliberate, trailed slowly down your arm, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that felt both comforting and dangerous.

"You're my muse," he said, almost as if speaking to himself, lost in the thought. "Every second I spend watching you, seeing you wear my designs, it's nothing but inspiration." His hand continued to drift lower, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist before sliding back up, pulling you just slightly, coaxing your body into his.

Your breath grew heavier, chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale as you were drawn back against him, the solid warmth of his chest pressing into your bare back.

Your gaze flickered to the mirror, watching the scene unfold before you—his hand resting lightly on your waist, his eyes tracing the outline of your form as if committing every curve, every inch of you, to memory.

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your ear, and it made your head spin, your thoughts running wild.

"Every touch," he murmured, his lips brushing just above your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Every glance…" His voice dropped, becoming something darker, heavier. "I can't stop thinking about how perfectly you fit into my designs. Like you were made for them—or maybe… they were made for you."

His hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and you watched him in the mirror, breath hitching in your throat. Then, his lips ghosted over your ear again, the warmth of his breath making you tremble as he purred, "But you know… I keep thinking about something else…"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you felt him shift closer, his chest now flush against your back. The air between you crackled with tension, thick and almost suffocating, and yet you couldn't pull away—you didn't want to.

His hands pressed against your waist as he lowered his voice to something almost sinful. "…How perfectly you'll fit around me."

The words slipped from his lips, dripping with raw, undeniable desire, every word reverberating through your skin, hitting you like a tidal wave. Your breath stilled in your lungs, heat coursing through your body as your mind raced.

Wait a minute—what's… b-but—

His arms tightened around you as his mouth hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you feel it too," he groaned, his voice low, growling with need as his fingers dug into your hips. "Tell me you want it… just as badly as I do."

Finally, your mouth seemed to catch up with your thoughts. "S-Satoru—"

Your voice once again falls away as Satoru's arms tightened around you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, pressing into your back, his grip around your waist possessive, firm.

Then, in a voice so raw, so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered, "Can I... have you?"

The words tumbled from his lips in a near whimper, laden with a hunger that bordered on pleading. His breath hitched, his forehead brushing against the back of your neck as if even he was losing control of the space between you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind trying to process everything, yet failing to hold onto any coherent thought. His words, the way they sounded so needy, left you breathless.

You watched him in the mirror, his reflection almost ghostly in the low light of the room. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as they lingered on your form, and his lips, parted slightly, looked dangerously close to speaking something sinful, something that would push you over the edge.

The room was silent except for his panting breaths in your ear. You could feel his need in the way his arms wrapped around you, in the way his fingers pressed just a little too tightly into your skin.

"Say yes..." he breathed, his voice low and pleading, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every soft, almost teasing touch. "Please... just say yes."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place as your mind blocking out everything else but Satoru.

The sound of him, the feel of him, the way his voice came out in that almost whimpering tone—it consumed you, leaving no room for anything else but him.

Finally, a breathless, barely audible "yes" escaped your lips, the word trembling from your mouth like a whimper, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of the moment.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Satoru. His wicked smirk grew, a gleam in his eyes as he dipped his head lower, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your skin.

The heat of his breath against your neck sent shivers racing down your spine, making your entire body tense.

"Good girl~" he purred softly into your ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled you down onto the couch, his movements fluid and effortless. You landed in his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs bent and pulled up on either side of him, facing the mirror.

our thighs immediately began to burn from the stretch, the leather skirt you wore sliding up all the way, exposing the lace underwear beneath—the same light blue that matched the bralette you'd worn earlier.

The delicate fabric contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment, and your face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes caught the sight of a small wet patch there.

Your heart raced as you tried instinctively to close your legs, but before you could, he gently tapped your thighs with his fingers, his smirk never faltering. "Aht aht," he scolded lightly, his tone playful but firm, making it clear that he was in control.

His arms slid under your legs, lifting them slightly and pulling them farther apart.

The stretch made you gasp, thighs burning as he forced you all the way back against his chest, your body now fully reclined into him.

His grip was strong but not painful, holding you in place as his breath ghosted over the side of your face.

In the mirror, you saw it all—your legs spread wide, your flushed face, and Satoru's darkened gaze fixed on you, his expression one of total control. His was voice, low and teasing, rumbling against your ear. "Look at you... perfect," he murmured, holding you tightly against him, his arms securing you in place, his presence overwhelming.

The reflection showed more than just your vulnerability—it was the power he had over you, and the way he reveled in every second of it.

Satoru's left hand slowly trailed down your body, his touch feather-light at first, but purposeful. The cool air kissed your skin as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear, his hand pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot without pulling the fabric to the side.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and your entire body tensed as his fingers began to move, rubbing slow, deliberate circles along your slit, teasing and drawing out every bit of tension you’d been holding inside.

His fingers trailed gently up and down, gliding over your skin as if he were mapping you out, testing your every reaction. He found your clit with ease, rubbing small, teasing circles that sent jolts of heat through you, the slow rhythm making it impossible to think straight.

Your thighs twitched, the stretch around him making the sensation even more intense. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you as your body reacted, and when you turned your face away, unable to watch the reflection of what he was doing to you.

Satoru clicked his tongue softly in disapproval. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice dark with command. "Eyes on the mirror. Watch what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the mirror.

His hand kept moving, the slow rhythm intensifying, the way he touched you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. His reflection was smug, pleased, as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open and focused on what he was doing.

It was an order, and disobeying felt impossible.

When his finger slipped inside you, your body jolted slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His movements were slow, deliberate, each stroke inside you making it harder to think.

One became two, both pumping in and out of your clenching heat with a slow, deep rhythm. He kept his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place against his chest as he worked his fingers deeper.

His breath was hot against your ear as his grip on your body tightened, his voice a low groan as he spoke. "You know what I can't wait to do?" His words sent a new rush of heat through you, and he chuckled softly at your reaction. "I can't wait to taste you... spend hours learning every inch of my muse's body. Watching you come undone again and again and again."

The promise in his voice made your mind reel, the intensity of his touch and his words leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as your pulse raced.

A particularly well-angled thrust had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping free. "That's it..." he praised, curling his fingers so they can brush against your G-spot again. "You're so wet for me... So responsive."

His thumb joined the fray, rubbing firmer circles over your clit that had your hips rolling mindlessly to meet his touch. He worked you higher and higher, stoking the flames of your pleasure until you were teetering right on the edge.

And still, he demanded you watch. Compelled you to observe the wanton display you made, his dark gaze devouring you from over your shoulder.

"Come for me," Satoru growled against your lips, his fingers pumping furiously now. "Let go. Now."

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. You shook and shuddered in his hold, a cry of ecstasy torn from your throat as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from your spasming body.

Satoru swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply as he continued his ministrations.

Only when you collapsed bonelessly against him did Satoru still his hand, drawing his glistening fingers from your depths. He brought them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he licked them clean with a shameless moan.

"Delicious~" he purred, voice rough with satisfaction. "My perfect muse."

You felt weightless, the tension from the day—hell, the whole week—melting into nothingness as the lingering echoes of your orgasm left you in a daze. Your body felt loose, relaxed, like all the stress had finally evaporated, and for a moment, you simply existed, floating in the aftermath.

Then, you felt your thighs shift wider, and a small, confused sound escaped you before you even realized it.

Satoru's low chuckle filled the quiet room, dark and amused. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?" His voice dripped with mischief as his hands moved to adjust you in his lap. He shifted beneath you, pulling his pants down slightly as he repositioned you, pulling you higher onto his lap.

The movement pressed you closer to him, allowing you to fully feel him underneath you, hard and insistent. His hand returned to your underwear, the long digits returning to rub away at you.

The sudden pressure made your back arch instinctively, a small whimper escaping your lips from the mix of sensation—equal parts pleasure and the discomfort of being played with beyond your limit.

"Silly girl," he tutted softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His hand returned to your waist, the grip firm yet tender, as he tugged your underwear to the side, filling you in one stroke.

You both froze for different reasons—your legs trembled as you felt the stretch, trying to stay tethered because he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, while Satoru groaned, overwhelmed by the tightness that enveloped him.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

You let out a broken whimper, arms growing weak and giving out beneath you. You collapsed slightly forward, your forehead resting against his thighs as you tried to adjust, to find some relief from the pressure.

Satoru growled softly at the sight, his hands gripping your waist with more purpose. He pulled you fully down onto him, your hips flush against his.

"S-Satoru..." you moaned, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming.

His hips jerked forward in short, deliberate movements, and your body responded, helpless to the rhythm he set. "T-that's right, baby, say my name..." he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hands guided you, pulling you back down with each upward thrust.

He lifted his hips to speed up the movements. You could only cling to his thighs, breathless and powerless against the force of his desire.

Satoru kept going, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, filthy words laced with desire. His grip on your waist was tight, almost bruising, as he held you firmly in place.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—wet, slick noises and the rhythmic squelching with every movement.

The intensity of the moment wrapped around you, heightening every sensation, your body overwhelmed by the pressure building inside you.

Your second orgasm was approaching too quickly, the wave of pleasure rising fast, almost too much to handle. Desperation washed over you, and you tried to scoot forward, to slow things down, but Satoru's response was immediate—he went faster, his thrusts growing erratic.

You let out a choked cry, begging for him to slow down, but he only groaned in response, his pace relentless.

The sensation was overwhelming, and then it hit you, like you were thrown over the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed as the blinding pleasure rocked your entire frame.

Your body shook, every nerve alight as the intensity consumed you. You could hear Satoru cursing under his breath as you trembled in his arms, your body a quivering mess in the aftermath.

And then you felt it—the heat of him filling you, spreading through your lower body in a rush of warmth. Satoru let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing himself flush against you as he reached his climax. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as he stayed close, savoring the feeling.

Before you could catch your breath or say anything, Satoru moved again. He pulled you back slightly, and you gasped, the sudden movement sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

His hands snaked under your thighs, lifting you carefully from his lap. He groaned softly as he watched his release spilling from you, leaking out as he admired the sight.

Satoru gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What a sight to see," he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. One of his hands trailed down to your entrance, his thumb gently grazing over the sensitive skin.

He played with your sticky entrance, his fingers teasing, before pressing back to plug up the fallen release. Your thighs twitched in response, a shiver running through you at the sudden sensation.

You called out his name for what felt like the third time, your voice weak but pleading. "Satoru..."

He let out a tired but satisfied chuckle, his hand pulling away as he finally relented. "Fine, fine," he murmured, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. He settled you down on his lap again, this time pulling you close to his chest, cradling you as his arms wrapped securely around you.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, his breathing slowing as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

The night grew quiet, the tension fading into a comfortable stillness, but even as you relaxed against him, your mind wandered.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but think: Nobara was fucking right.

A/N: lolol, sorry for the influx of smut guys, promise this won't be like an everyday thinjg.... 👀 anyways, hope this was up to your standards and wasn't too bad bubbly-bear, i tried my best to make it work to the song...😭

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