#so dizzy with love and adoration

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

[lieutenantselnia]

2D Doof looking like an absolute cinnamon roll🥺

He may be a villain but he's also a cutie pie💕

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

i hopped on call with my friends today and had a lot of fun hanging out with them 🥺 bee drew a fuckton of shit i have to share them....

kevin's here because milo and i expressed our hype in watching the next spooky month annual episode and ofc kevin my beloved was worth mentioning SHHDDGSHEJEZ i miss him so much I wanna go back to him <3

maroon belongs to bee and clear belongs to nero! they have such wonderful goofies <3

[katwriteswhump]

Whumpril 2024 Day 6: Dizziness

@whumpril hi lmao

Content: some weird fucked up romance, mention of past whumping of a minor. mostly just selma being fucked up

yeah so basically morgan got into a fight, at the start of the series and ended up in hospital, with selma as their nurse, but then selma bumped into this guy who kidnapped her years ago who everyone thought was dead (finn). and yeah

Day 6: Dizziness

It happened every time she saw him. She forgot who she was, what she was doing. He was around that patient Morgan a lot, but never seemed to speak to Selma. Which she was glad about. Whatever the police said, a mushroom didn’t change its spots, and Finn was certainly a mushroom in this case.

She was terrified of him, she knew that much. It was only the adrenaline of their recent meeting that had kept her from passing out at the sight of his face.

She’d never expected to see him again, and definitely not in these circumstances. Every time she looked at him, she felt like she wanted to throw up. She felt so dizzy. He made her feel so weak. And it wasn’t the same fear that had haunted her night and day as a teenager. This was a new fear, that made her want to fall down, faint, tense up, and kiss him on his stupid, obnoxious mouth.

Shit. Maybe it wasn’t the fear at all.

[neon-u-dumb-shxtty-child]

a small Howdy hc for you 🤲

He makes up little songs while he works!

For example, say it's been slow at the shop and Howdy is bored so while he's sweeping he'll start humming. And that humming turns into a song, a song that goes:

🎶 "Do do doo sweeping for the seventh time todayyy, because there's a certain Beagle that won't wipe his paws at the dooorrrrr do do dooo" 🎶

yeah just,, Howdy making up dumb lil songs for whatever task he's doing XD

he'd get super embarrassed if ever caught. so naturally I imagine Eddie catching him and thinking it's cute (platonic or otherwise hehe)!

I suppose this came with a smaller Barnaby hc,, bc I really don't think he remembers to wipe his feet at the door lol

HOWDY PILLAR I LOVE YOU

I love that, he enjoys writing little songs and singing them in the bodega when he’s bored :3

Also Barnaby forgetting to wipe his feet at the door is so canon, you want convince me he would remember to do that

[athenaluthor]

Golden Boy

pairing: Bob Reynolds/Sentry x fem!reader.

summary: Riding your Golden Boy. Somewhere along the lines, Sentry takes over and has his way with his girl.

warnings: smut, smut and more smut. bob being a soft boy, sentry being self indulgent and taking you within an inch of your life because you asked for it. (i fear i was the one being self indulgent bcs idk sentry is so hot but so is void. but bob has my heart. let me know what yall think. hope yall enjoy this <33)

word count- 2.2k

masterlist

He wants to live inside you forever. Imprint himself on your very soul and on every fiber of your being. You feel good, you feel so incredibly and unbelievably right.

“Oh God, Bob.You’re so big..” you moan as you sink down on his cock. The dangerously adorable man underneath you has the thickest cock you’ve ever had. The stretch overwhelms you and you bury your face in his neck, arms around him, trying to go as deep as possible. Bob hands grip your hips tightly, stopping you from sinking down on his cock too quickly. Mentally, you curse yourself for taking so long to try this position with your golden boy.

Bob feels dizzy too, his head spinning as he watches you. He craves touch, he craves your touch. His entire life, nobody had ever touched him like you, so lovingly and gently, tracing his skin like you were memorising and worshiping him. Instead, he spent a good portion of his years filling this empty space with drugs, getting high out of his mind and doing awful things he wouldn’t even want to tell you.

Leaning up against the headboard, Bob watches you with lustful eyes, his plump lips part as he pants breathlessly. At this very moment, Bob felt like his heart might explode, death would be welcomed since he had truly lived a life worth living, an angel in his arms, wrapped around his cock. Sex before you was meaningless, he had been far too high to care about anything that was happening anyways.

“G-go slow. Don’t have to get it all in.” He whimpers out between moans, groaning at how wet you are, dripping down the length of the cock.

“I-I want to, baby.” you reply shakily before pushing yourself down fully onto his cock. The stretch makes your eyes water, but he feels so good— you could cum right then and there.

Bob’s hands lift from your hips, moving to clutch your head and pull you away from his neck. “G-god, baby. Y-you didn’t– you didn’t have to.” He stutters out, his forehead flush against yours.

You want to ride him, bounce on his cock until you can't remember your own name. Rolling your hips and clenching down on his cock, your legs tremble at how good it feels. Bob, bless his heart, lets out a choked moan.

“B-Baby, baby. You can’t– you can’t do that. I’ll cum too–oh god, too soon!” He moans.

It takes all your might to begin riding your golden boy. Hands on his shoulders you start lifting your hips, then sliding back down in his cock, over and over again. Your pace is slow yet hard and deep. You want to go faster but the blood in your veins feels so hot, you think you’ll explode if you’re not careful.

His head is thrown back, eyes shut, lips parted and face flushed as you ride him. His hands return back to your hips, clutching you like a lifeline. The Golden Boy under you, is unequivocally and irrevocably yours, and fuck— he looks gorgeous under you.

Letting go of his shoulders, you reach to clutch his face. “Bob? Baby, look at me, please.” you whine, wanting those pretty eyes on you.

He blearily opens his eyes, his pupils blown and he looks utterly debased and lustful. His unnecessarily superhuman senses flare, overwhelmed by everything around him. He can feel every touch on his skin, the soft fingertips on his cheeks trying to reel him in, and the drag of your walls around his cock each time you move up and down.

Bob never wants this to end. He wants to be inside you like this forever. His cock pumping deep inside the love of his life.

The sound of your heart pounding in your chest echoes in his ears as he zeros in on you, the way your blood rushes so loudly through your veins.

The pleasure is too much, it throws you off-kilter. Head spinning, your hands drop down to his stomach to steady yourself.Thoughtlessly, his hands move to cup your breasts when yours let go of his face, entranced by each movement they make when you bounce on his cock. The pads of his thumbs toying with your hardened nipples.

His touch spurs you on, the way his eyes lustfully looks at you has you choking on your own saliva. Invigorated by this, you speed up, bouncing on his cock harder and faster. Bob can only take what you give him, mouth parted, moaning and grunting, here and there. You know you shouldn’t overdo it, but God— his cock stretches you out so good and so deep, you know you’ll feel it tomorrow. You want him to wreck you, rearrange you and ruin you for anyone else.

The coil within you winds up, getting tighter and tighter with each bounce of your body. Body tense and hot, you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, higher and higher. Head light and blood rushing, you’re losing yourself to this pleasure, your legs and thighs begin to cramp but you force yourself to keep going.It's like your mind isn’t yours. You don’t want to stop, you can’t stop.

Bob knows you far too well. He can tell when you’re teetering to the edge of going too damn far. The way your eyes glass over, the way your moans spill out like you're about to cry, and the way you shake. His hands clutch your waist, his grip firm but careful, trying to bring you back to him. “S-Slow down, baby. You’re— fuck! You’re t-trembling.” He says shakily trying not to succumb to how good you feel on his cock.

He says your name so softly, so reverently, trying to rouse you back to him. His arms wrap around you, under your arms, pulling you flush to him. Bob’s hand finds purchase on the back of your head, as it falls into the crook of his neck.

Gibberish falls out of your mouth. Something along the lines of “I want to cum, Robert. Let me make you cum too, please.” if Bob’s superhearing is to be trusted.

“I-I know, baby.” he soothes you. “L-let me do this for you, baby. Don’t— you don’t have to p-push yourself f–for me.” he reasons with you, knowing you wouldn’t stop until both of you had been thoroughly spent.

Too far gone to think straight, you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him take over. Holding your hips tightly, Bob’s hips begin to thrust up into you, his pace is steady but deep.

The way you melt into him makes his heart pound out of his chest, how you trust him to take over, when even he didn’t trust himself. The way your soft moans spill out of your lips could make him cum inside your silky walls right now.

You want him to go faster, harder, make you cum so hard, you see stars. Desire has you so deep within its clutches, you can’t escape. So you beg. “Bob, please. Fuck me harder, please.”

“Shh, I– I don’t want to lose control, baby.” he whines back.

“I don’t care, Bob. Please, just fuck me hard.” You beg him, voice needy.

“I need you to fuck me. Just fuck me hard, Robert.” The words leave your mouth desperately without much thought.

Something shifts in the air and you feel it immediately. The sudden influx of unexplainable energy, it feels sharp and strong. Steady and firm, unlike Bob’s hesitance.

Beneath you, Bob shifts, hands gripping your hips even tighter. Then, he plants his feet down onto the bed, angling himself before thrusting back into you, hard. This new angle hits that spot inside you, the one that makes you scream and see stars

The force of his thrusts has you losing your breath, your arms tighten around his neck as you hold on for dear life. Ecstasy flows through your veins, as he begins to fuck you within an inch of your life while your moans spill wantonly from your lips.

This, you think, is new. Bob has never done this. He doesn’t usually fall into your begging, opting to hold back and not let himself lose. Alarm bells ring in your head, but somewhere between his grunts and the way his cock pounds into you, you forget it.

He’s so deep inside you, pounding your pussy like his life depended on it. The pleasure builds within you, the pressure between your legs borders between too much and just enough.

You don’t have a clue how long he has you like this but the coil finally snaps. Intense pleasure washes through you, sending your body into a state of ecstasy,and leaving you moaning and trembling. Your juices leak down Bob’s cock, coating both your thighs. He doesn’t slow down.

His thrusts don't falter. Bob’s pace is unyielding, grunting as your walls clamp down on him. Utterly spent, your body is limp and pliant atop his as you try to get your bearings, letting him have his way with you.

Before you know it, Bob flips the both of you.

The sudden movement shocks you. Suddenly, you are underneath him. Peering up at your Golden Boy, his eyes are shut and his curls fall haphazardly across his forehead, sticking to the sweaty skin.

Without much thought, your hand reaches up to brush away his curls. You think to ask why he stopped when he hasn’t cum yet.

Then, it clicks. The moment your fingers touch his skin, his eyes open. Otherworldly glow shines from his eyes.

Oh. This isn’t your Bob.

“Sentry?” You breathlessly ask.

The being above you doesn’t reply. Instead, he looks at you with the ferocity of a starved man. Fear rushes through you yet your excitement outweighs it. His cock is still buried inside your sensitive pussy, you don’t know whether to be afraid of him or do you want him to fuck you into the mattress.

Sentry speaks to you, “It’s unfair that he gets to keep you all by himself.”

Now, Sentry takes the reins. He pins you down onto the bed before thrusting into you. His presence is overwhelming, like he invades every inch of your senses.

Your previous climax had already made you sensitive. The sheer force of his unforgiving thrusts sends your body into overdrive. Overstimulation has you arching your back and curling your toes into the mattress.

In your fucked out state, you can’t even comprehend the words that spill out your mouth.

Sentry thinks you look so damn pretty like this. A lover fit for a god like him, moaning and writhing under him as he pounds into you. Only he should see you in this state.

He increases his pace, pounding into you harder. After all, you had asked him to fuck you hard. He can feel your thighs tremble and he can hear how hard your heart is beating.

The blood in your veins rush rapidly through your body as you fall deeper into your sex-induced high. Sentry too gets high on you. His focuses his efforts on bringing to the edge again, too feel you clamp down his cock and wantonly moan for him. Only him.

He knows he’s close to the edge when his balls tighten and the pressure low in his belly becomes too much. You feel yourself losing control, his cock is so big and he’s going too hard and too fast. When you tense and your body arches without your control, he knows your cumming again.

Only this time, he comes too.

He ruts into you wildly, grunting loudly while letting pleasure take over as he spills himself into you. He holds you close, letting your pinned arms go.

Somewhere in your haze, trembles and aftershocks you manage to wrap your arms around him as he spills himself inside you. It’s so much, even in your state, you know it’s too much.

The sheer volume of his thick cum feels so good inside you.

When he comes to, he can tell you’re still dazed. Your body is soft and pliant under him, while your eyes are glassy. His touch on your cheek grounds you a little. It’s like you see that it's him.

“Baby?” You call out breathlessly to him.

“Hmm?” He replies back but he thinks you don’t even notice.

You wince when he slides out of you. Thick fluids both his and yours leak out of you. He holds back the urge to push it back in. He knows that tomorrow that you’ll be sore but he hopes you don’t regret asking him to fuck you hard.

He lays beside you, pulling your weak body into his and letting your head rest on his chest. Sentry feels your body tremble under his touch, the aftershock of your orgasms.

He softly strokes up and down your arm, you are safe and sound here with him. He is the Sentry after all. A God in his own right.

When your breathing slows, he knows you’ll fall asleep soon. Your body is practically melting on him.

Right as sleep pulls you into its grasp, a soft sentence slips past your lips. Barely coherent and understandable but he doesn’t have superhearing for nothing. “Love you, my Golden Boy.”

Your Golden Boy. He likes the sound of that.

As Sentry closes his eyes, he hopes you wouldn’t mind him taking over your Bob next time. After all, it is unfair for Bob to have you all to himself.

Sentry lets sleep take him too, knowing that Bob will wake in the morning with only memories of this.

Sentry- 1, Bob- 0.

Yeah, he thinks. He’s a God, so why not keep a fucking tally.

[ccccatttta]

jegulus fic where james is a youtuber/streamer who does all sorts of pretty crazy pranks and people ADORE him because he's totally shameless.

one day he gets dared to crash a wedding and oppose it, pretending to be in love with either the groom or the bride.

and even though his editor (and bestest friend) remus told him that that's fucking insane, james still chose to do it bc he's a menace. but he does promise to cut it all off if things get messy.

james gets everything ready and, after stalking some of his old school classmates, he finds that one of them is attending a wedding (it's mulciber, who james remembers to despise back then, so it's a win-win situation), which means his plan is all set.

by fate, and fate only, this wedding is regulus' and some girl's his parents chose for him (and mulciber was invited bc his family is very close to the black's)

and obviously, this is a clear forced marriage, regulus would rather kill himself than marry a girl, he's as gay as they come.

[for sake of the plot, sirius and james don't know each other at all, didn't go to school together either, and sirius didn't run away and is also livid with his parents for marrying reg off, but there wasn't anything he could do]

so! prank day, james is live the moment he, very dramatically, stands up and proclaims his love for this.... regulus guy, and how he knows he promised to not come but he just couldn't handle the thought of the love of his life being married to someone else (his followers thought he was going to claim to love the bride, but james found the groom way too cute and he just couldn't hold himself back, he's just a guy)

the 30 seconds of pure silence and shock that follow are almost enough to make james break character and start laughing like crazy.

regulus, who's flabbergasted by the way, knows immediately that it's a prank. however, this might as well be a sign of the gods, because, what are the chances that this (very handsome) random man, chose HIS wedding out of all, and targeted HIM to be the one he "loves"? way to many coincidences.

also, did he mention the dude is unbelievably fit?

he makes a choice right there.

using all his acting abilities, he makes a whole scene tearing up and running to him. it's so well done, james for a second believes they are actual lovers.

hell breaks at that moment, walburga goes absolutely nuts along with orion and their side of the family. the bride's family start a fight, and between the commotion regulus sees his brother laughing maniacally after their mother yells at regulus to stop playing games or he will get disowned.

james, who thinks that this is now along the lines of things getting messy, is about to announce it's all a prank, when regulus sees right through him, panics, and just whispers "im going to kiss you now, sorry" before snogging the life out of him.

remus, who's the camera guy, cuts the live right there.

james, oh james, he doesn't quite hear the screech walburga lets out because this backfired so bad, but jesus chirst can this regulus kiss. this is love at first sight. love at first prank, if you may.

regulus knowing stuff is about to get bad, just grabs james' hand and runs for it. james just follows, he's dizzy. remus also follows because he's NOT getting involved in all that, he's actually quitting james.

sirius follows too, if his little brother is finally disowned, there's no reason to stay, thank you very much.

anyways, this whole idea was just because i want james followers to see his channel thumbnails going:

CRASHING A RANDOM WEDDING 💍 PRANK #56

to

how i met the love of my life ; Q&A

and

REG AND I ARE GETTING MARRIED (im sealing all entries so no-one can crash it) — VLOG

bye

[tojisun]

cw: messy smut & hand fetish

simon’s bird is a twitchy thing, buzzing about with tepid energy thrumming underneath your skin. he’d even catch you shifting around when you’re sitting still for too long, gaze dancing between objects as you try to tether yourself back to the conversation. it’s an adorable thing—it could be worrying on days when it splinters into a spiralling—but it has always been cute.

even cuter was the way that you’ll only stop when his hand clamps down on your thigh. you’ll twitch, blinking at his hold, before melting. you’ll never look away, your mind is quiet even for a moment, and for a while, simon thought that it was the touch that grounded you. that it was the weight of his hand that eases up your flighty thoughts, allowing you a reprieve.

it’s only after you moved in with him that he realizes that grounding you didn’t even need to be his touch because your mind stutters at the mere sight of his hands. and what a delight that realization was.

it came to him when he walked into the living room after being holed up in the garage, fixing up your car, only to see you freeze at seeing the way that oil tainted his fingertips, highlighting the ridges of his veins and the rough patches his scars. what he thought was a scrutiny of how dirty he’s gotten, ended up being a quiet thrum of your admiration.

it made him dizzy with elation—oh how adorable you are with your futile attempts to rip your eyes from his hands, unable to utter anything but a breathless gasp of his name. god, look how cute you are. how easy. falling apart at the mere sight of his hands.

he didn’t even need to touch you for your desire to burn hotter, your eyes always gravitated at the way he massaged them with lotion or cracked his knuckles. he doesn’t even have a thing for a hands but you’ve made him more conscious of it, almost like it is something pornographic.

so, naturally, he had to do something about it.

buying the full-length mirror and installing it in the bedroom was a hassle but simon loves it now.

“don’t look away,” he rumbles before curling his fingers and plunging them deeper in you. the wet squelch echoes in the room louder than his voice did, drawing out a hiccuped squeal from the base of your throat.

this isn’t even the first time that simon’s got you propped on his lap with your legs forced open by the spread of his thighs, but being fingered in front of the mirror really has you feeling shy, huh? you can’t even watch yourself properly, tending to run away from the sight by screwing your eyes close and tipping your chin low like by doing so, you could pretend that the mirror isn’t revealing every debauchery he’s making out of your pussy.

but god. you should see this—his hand is so soaked with your juices that it’s got it shining like a fucking glazed doughnut. it’s so messy as you drip onto him, your cunt spasming like the greedy hole that it is.

simon croons this to you, his other hand cupping your jaw to brush his thumb just over your kiss-swollen lips, coaxing you to open to your eyes. telling you to see how needy you really are—and even then, your pussy is more honest than you are being right now.

“c’mon, baby,” simon murmurs, twisting his fingers juuust right, making you keen, your legs jumping in your attempt to shut them close only for simon to knock them wide open again. “look at y’r cunt, love, makin’ my hand look all glossy.”

he huffs a laugh at the way your pussy clamps down on his fingers at hearing his words, your cunt betraying your stubborn self once more. truly what a naughty bird he’s got; acting all shy when you’re just as hungry as he is—

“isn’t that right, hun?”

simon thought that it’d take another coaxing, another curling of his fingers or maybe finally adding his pinky to stretch you even wider for his cock, but your resolve fizzled out fast. your tearful eyes peel open, blinking to adjust them to the light. they dance from the reflection of his face, meeting his eyes, before finally dragging down to where you’ve got your pussy spasming around his fingers at his beckoning nod.

he feels more than sees the moment you get a glimpse at what a beautiful sight you make.

“si—!” you gasp, reaching up to clamp down on the arm that he’s got around your chest. your hips begin to wiggle, almost like you desperately want to ride his hand, and oh, that thought makes simon’s cock jump from underneath his sweats.

“si, i’m cummin— i wanna— i’m—!”

he doubles his efforts, fucking his fingers in, nudging them along your walls, before fucking them out in a dizzying pace that has you screaming, your body tensing like a string being pulled taut. it is so messy now, each thrust of his hand meeting the fat lips of your cunt echo with a wet slap, and simon truly can’t wait to lap up at your juices left on his pruning fingers.

your nails bite his skin but he doesn’t even feel the prickles as your walls begin to spasm, your jaw dropping for a soundless scream, then—

an angry gush. your squirt hits the mirror, splattering so wildly, and simon swears he’s gone cross-eyed with his lust.

how beautiful you are, your body locking on his lap for a moment as you ride out your orgasm before falling limply into his embrace, your eyes staring faraway like he’s fried your brain with his fingers alone. he croons, pressing kisses on your sweaty temple, and carefully pulls his fingers out. you rumble, whining in overstimulation, and simon pets you in comfort.

he lifts his hand up—it is wet and his fingers have pruned—before immediately stuffing them in his mouth. he didn’t even notice the way you’ve been watching him until you squeak at seeing him desperately suck on his fingers.

simon flicks his eyes up to meet your gaze from the mirror and, even with a mouthful, he gives you a grin. you breathe in sharply, still shy but refusing to break the heated eye contact, and simon rumbles, pleased, because his cock is painfully hard. it is rutting along the cleft of your ass, leaking pre-, and it is very needy for the feeling of your pussy hotly swallowing all of him up.

[sttoru]

older bf satoru catches you masturbating <3

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). māsturbation. turns into cunnilingus. squirting. reader gets called ‘baby, angel, little girl’

you miss satoru so much. he had left you behind in his apartment after getting a call from a colleague, who needed help defeating a curse nearby. it’s been a few hours since then and you’re bored.

bored and horny.

you’re still riled up from the heated make out session you had with satoru before he departed. the one that got interrupted by that damned phone call. you need him back with you—for his slender fingers to touch you and his mouth to kiss you all over.

all you have of him is his shirt. you’re wearing it whilst laying back in his bed, the fabric seemingly oversized on your body. his scent is making you lightheaded. dizzy, to the point your hand moves down on its own.

“mhhg,” you cover your mouth with your free hand, not wanting to risk anything, even if you’re the only one in this apartment. you waste no time dipping your fingers underneath your panties, circling your clit with your thumb while your index and middle finger rub your moist folds.

all you can do is imagine that it’s satoru pleasuring you. he always does it so well—never once leaving you unsatisfied. you cannot recall the amount of times he’s made you squirt from just rubbing your cunt. you’re so touch deprived and he knows how to take advantage of that.

remembering that one moment where your boyfriend had you seated on his lap on the couch makes you increase the pace of your fingers. how he was so focused on listening to the news whilst gently rubbing your tingly cunt over the material of your panties, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

you recall how your panties were quite literally soaking after three whole orgasms. not once did his fingers directly touch your pussy, and yet he managed to elicit such strong reactions from you.

a frustrated whine in the shape of his name leaves your mouth. you want satoru back, so so badly. you want him to whisper sweet nothings inside of your ears as he makes love to you. that smooth and soothing voice of his makes you weak.

“fuck, angel,” satoru’s voice interrupts your little session. your eyes widen and you immediately pull your fingers out of your aching hole. you stammer and stutter, stumbling over your words as you look at the white-haired man standing at the doorframe of his room.

how do you even explain yourself?

your gaze flickers downwards which grants you the delicious sight of his bulge. his hand is right on top of it, indicating that he’s been touching himself before he decided to make his presence known.

satoru is panting, the sweat already starting to form on his forehead. he walks up to the bed and pries your hands away from your cunt. his cock stirs in his boxer briefs at the sight of you in his shirt. you’re so adorable to the older man. so needy. . .

without a word and like a starved man, satoru spreads your legs and yanks your panties down. your cunt is warm and soppy, the slick trail staining your underwear telling him enough. he doesn’t hesitate before diving his head between your plush thighs.

you feel a rush of warmth go through your body the instant his tongue comes into contact with your pussy. satoru’s nose repeatedly bumps against your clit as he tries to press his entire mouth onto your folds. his tongue lolls out, the tip navigating up and down your slit before pushing through, finding that little hole he can’t wait to devour.

“thank you for preparing my meal f’me while i was away,” satoru hums against your cunt before pulling back to allow his fingers to explore you. he glances up at you with a proud smirk before placing his mouth back where it belongs. he can’t let all the prep you did go to waste after all, “she’s fuckin’ delicious, baby.”

your hands pull at his hair in response, gaining a needy whine from your lover. he nearly chokes on both his spit and your juices. his hands hold onto the back of your knees and he uses that firm grip to push your legs further apart.

you’re nearly seeing stars. you didn’t even have time to register satoru’s sudden appearance. hell, you couldn’t even greet him or welcome him back home. that man wasted zero time in getting between your legs, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow.

you stumble over your own words. no matter how hard you try, not a sentence is able to form. all that leaves your mouth are moans of pure pleasure. your thighs shake and your hips buck against your lover’s mouth. you’re more than desperate for a release.

“c’mon, say my name again,” satoru sighs as he circles his tongue around your wet hole. he prods at it, tongue fucking you to acquire as much of your fluids as possible. your sweet wetness is making him throb in his pants, “mhmmm— my naughty little girl couldn’t wait.”

the older man feels great satisfaction at the thought of you being unable to withstand your pleasures. the sinful sight of you trying to fuck yourself with your little fingers on his bed, with his shirt on, is engraved in his mind forever. the second you moan out his name again, he goes all out.

satoru’s tongue doesn’t stop. even when you squeal and beg him to slow down because you feel like you’re going to cum early. that’s exactly what he wants; having you squirt all over his mouth and face. he needs to be covered with your slick.

you tug at his hair again - thinking that’d make satoru pull away - though the effect is the exact opposite. “nhh, do ‘t again,” he whines and moans against your folds, lapping up all that your pussy gives. the loud slurping noises reverberate throughout the room.

satoru’s eyes are closed, his furrowed brows adding to the concentrated yet content look on his blushing face. his lips, which are usually glossy, glisten even more with the liquid your cunt secretes. his eyes open every now and then to take a peek at you—to see if you’re still enjoying what he does.

“bet your small fingers weren’t enough, hm? y’ need mine?” satoru coos once he finally pulls his head back to breathe. he licks his lips as he stares at you with glazed and half-lidded eyes, totally pussydrunk. you don’t even have to respond to his questions. the answers are obvious by the way you’re trembling and desperately babbling incoherent pleas.

your boyfriend nods in understanding. he pouts at you while his fingers rub up and down your spread pussy lips. the pad of his thumb manoeuvres from your gaping hole to the little bundle of nerves at the top. satoru sticks two fingers in your cunt without warning. your high pitched whimper makes him coo at you, “yeah, i know, baby. let it out.”

the white-haired sorcerer pumps his long fingers in and out of you, a rhythm so addicting that it’s impossible not to give in. your back arches off the mattress. you’re trying your best not to stain satoru’s shirt with your juices, though you have a feeling he’d secretly like that anyway.

“am so close, ‘toruuu—fnngh,” you gasp and instantly feel satoru’s tongue replace his fingers. he wants to taste and feel your tight cunt spasm all around his tongue and mouth while you reach that point of no return. he’s going to try his best not to cum untouched in his pants this time.

satoru holds your hips with his big hands, keeping you down so he could properly eat you out and make you release all that tension. your pussy tingles and throbs, and you truly feel like you’re going to ascend.

it feels way too good. inhumanly good.

“cum on my tongu—“ satoru can’t even finish his sentence. a loud moan slips from between your lips, followed by a grunt from your boyfriend. his eyes roll back as your cunt releases more of its lewd fluids—spraying the liquid all over his mouth and chin.

you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to notice the mess you’ve created on satoru’s face and his sheets; a complete and total mess. the older man doesn’t mind neither. in fact, he enjoys it.

“shitttt, that was fuckin’ hot,” satoru flashes you a wide grin. he’s still somewhat drunk on you, which is visible by the way he’s licking up your mess from both his chin and your body. he cleans your cunt with his tongue—even if it’s overstimulating you.

he’s a greedy man when it comes to you. he wants more, more and more. whatever you’re offering, he will get.

satoru’s hands rub your sides to comfort you. he places soft kisses over your clit and pussy, as if he’s thanking you for the meal he just had the pleasure of devouring. he looks up at you with a cheeky smirk before laying his head against your inner thigh, his tongue peeking out between his glossy lips;

“think you can give me one more?”

[plutotheplum]

thinking of ex-husband!sylus

ex-husband!sylus who was sickeningly generous during divorce proceedings. he had his lawyer agree to each one of your requests without batting any eye.

ex-husband!sylus who still remembers your anniversary. he sends over expensive gifts, tokens of his affection, hoping to win you back.

ex-husband!sylus who visits every month on his obnoxiously loud bike so the entire neighborhood knows that he's back.

ex-husband!sylus who brings along his pet crow, and then gets jealous when it cozies up with you.

ex-husband!sylus who has luke and kieran spy on you when you go out on dates.

ex-husband!sylus who acts like he doesn’t know why your dates have been ruined by unforeseen misfortunes (he pays luke and kieran extra if they manage to sabotage the date).

ex-husband!sylus who sees red when you manage to bring a man home, despite all of his interferences.

ex-husband!sylus who still has a spare key and waits inside for you to get home with that pathetic date of yours.

ex-husband!sylus who pulls you into the filthiest kiss, tongue and all, in front of your poor date who watches with wide eyes.

ex-husband!sylus who knows you miss him when you go limp in his arms and respond to his kiss just as eagerly.

ex-husband!sylus who knows how desperately you try to push him away, and yet will always come back to him.

ex-husband!sylus who is so riled up that he has to take you right then and there, up against the front door.

“w-wait,” you gasp out, feeling his lips suck harsh marks against your neck as he hauls you up into his arms.

“i've waited long enough,” he hisses, bunching your dress up at your hips as he rips your pretty, lacy panties off. he can't believe you'd wear such cute panties for another man.

you scrabble at his shoulders, trying to stay stable with the way you’re held against the front door whilst your ex-husband fumbles with his belt.

sylus pushes his cock into you roughly, his head falling against your shoulder when he feels the dizzying wet heat of your cunt. he’s finally back home.

the front door shakes with every thrust he delivers to your poor pussy and you quake in his arms, his movements tearing loud moans and whines from your throat.

you find yourself kissing your ex-husband desperately, hands in his hair and legs locked around his waist.

it's messy, rough and your breath hitches when you see his shirt shift, exposing the necklace around his neck. your wedding rings hang from it.

sylus grins at you, gripping your cheeks to hold your head still.

“i love you,” he says gruffly, kissing you over and over again until you wail and kick your legs out at the force of your orgasm.

he groans, his grip on you faltering as he comes at the same time, thick cum spilling inside of you.

you feel yourself slide down the door, legs too weak to hold yourself up until sylus catches you by the waist and tugs you close to him.

it’s not hard to see the adoration in his eyes when he cleans you up and pulls you into bed.

he lands soft kisses against your cheek, presses his forehead against yours and whispers his vows from years ago.

there's tears staining your cheeks when he slides your wedding ring onto your finger again, pulling you into a tender kiss.

sylus promises himself he’ll never let you go again, no matter what. 

because he knows you’re his. 

his precious darling.

[screampied]

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ F★CK ME LIKE U WANT ME ! ’﹒

𐚁̸ sum. how the jjk men fuck—feat. gojo, geto, choso, nanami, toji.

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, size kink, hair pulling, hitting it raw, face sitting, manhandling, impact play, degradation, squírting, faking it, spit, overstim, breeding, choking, mdni.

☆ NANAMI KENTO fucks like he’ll never see you again.

he loathes his dreadfully long work hours more than anything, spending time away from you was like a death sentence to him—all he knew at the end of the day was that he missed you, he missed his wife. the moment he’s buried deep inside you, interlocking his fingers with yours—it feels like pure bliss. “hey,” he’d breathe, and for a moment you feel his weight press against you. he’s hovering, you’re in the classic missionary position. he feels warm, tenderly hot inside. you then instinctively wrap your legs around his waist with your arms slinging around his shoulders. “my love,” he kisses near your neck, starting up a frantic yet sensual pace again. “oh, how i missed you,” and he kisses near your chin. “mwah,” he concludes before you feel his knees spread a bit more wider for a more better base. “keep those eyes up here—i missed my girl,” and he says it again and again until it sounds like a mantra.

“i missed you more.” you’d coo out in a soft voice, the back of your heel gingerly running down his back. your knees open, nanami’s kneeling between your legs and you moan at his sloppy yet erotically risqué thrusts. his sweet rotating rhythm was the icing on the cake.

“oh, honey that’s just impossible,” he’d purr in a honeyed voice, a big hand pressing against your tummy. “tell me one thing though,” he hums, and the more you listen to his voice—the more melodic it sounds to you. “when i press . . here, do you feel me or do you feel our future baby?”

a candied moan runs out your mouth before you cling onto his hips that continue to delve in and out of you. he’s piercing straight into you at full speed, you merely get whiplash from it all.

he was so thick, so hefty…

the stretch made your mind speed run, he knew just the right spots to drive into. your gummy walls clamp down on him tightly, and he bites his lip at the way your loving cunt keeps him continuously hostage. every time, he’s forevermore entangled with nothing but your warmth. bodies on bodies, he liked being on top of you—the shared warmth of his skin brushing against yours, it sends you and him both various amounts of secretive inevitable shivers.

“future baby?” you inhale with a sheepish grin, his body, the way it strenuously rocks against you in such sync makes you fall more and more and love with him. “you want another baby, kento?”

“i want a whole family with you,” he murmurs in a quavering breath, leaning up close to you to nip a few sugared kisses near the corner of your neck. glacé, a perfect word to describe your taste—in nanami’s eyes, you were the sweetest treat anyone could get their hands upon. to him, you never failed to taste so appetizing, he loves more than anything to softly run his tongue near the very inner parts of your neck. he gives it a few concise sucks, meanwhile he’s still got you right where he wants you. his cock’s idly jackhammering in and out of you and you’re holding him close with the most harmonic sounds leaving the back of your throat. “you’re such a good mommy. whenever this tummy’s all round ‘n plump, it’s so pretty,” and he brings another kiss near your lips. “you’re pretty, my love.”

the very back of your heel continues to skim down his back. nanami’s muscles tense a bit from your touch and he steadies his pace for a bit.

“let’s m-make another baby then,” you stammer, his cologne scent making you a bit dizzy. he always smelled so good, his fragrant was so loud, forever reaching your nostrils the more he’s getting himself closer and closer. nanami loves the feeling of your touch, the way your hands grab onto him—pulling him closer so he can be more thorough with his deep deep strokes. he adores it.

more importantly, he adores you.

he’s panting heavily, a few strands of sweat beads race down the corners of his forehead before he kisses you once more. after a lengthy amorous kiss, he departs with a cute flushed expression and you moan. “you’re always such a good daddy too, kento.”

“. . . oh, i try to be the best for my gorgeous wife, after all.”

nanami’s words dripped with tenderness and warmth. as the bed creaks, creating a mere harmony within itself—he feels himself coming close, he knows it. blond strands of his begin to stick and glue to his forehead from the sweat that already coats his skin. “m-my love,” he suddenly says, and his grip on your hand tightens, still intertwining his fingers with yours. “i’m gonna give you so much—sooo much,” and he kisses the top of your forehead. “you’re gonna look even more stunning once you’re done being f-filled.”

“k—kento.” you’d whine, feeling his heavy base thwack against you consistently. you could tell by the sheer hits against your cunt, he was full of incoming ropes of seed.

his breathing becomes heavy and as his kegals flex and flex. a few long extended amounts of seconds pass before he finally finishes. his tip radiates with a feeling of hotness, and once he starts to flood the inside of your pussy with strings of his load—he lets off a cute strained moan himself. “f-fuck,” he’d huff out in a short breath, and even his swears were cute. nanami’s hooded eyes stare at you, and he leans against your chest, still plugging you up. feeling his cum trickle into you furthermore, nanami then slithers a hand down your tummy. “oh, m—my gorgeous girl. now we wait.”

☆ GOJO fucks like it’s the end of the world.

“yeah so angel, we’re gonna like die in five days.”

“what?”

“i read this article earlier—the world’s ending ‘n i also just so happened to stumble across this position i wanted to try on ya.”

“……”

with gojo, it’s always abruptly unforeseen moments such as these. he’s so unserious, if unserious was a person—it’d be satoru gojo.

yet, that’s all it took because it doesn’t take long before you’re literally being stretched out to the very fullest. with your legs thrown up in the air, just dangling and dangling over your shoulders like an earring, you’re whimpering your head off.

“o-oh my god, s—satoruuuu,” you’d babble out, and he’s got you in a full nelson. in the flesh, this position was practically known for having someone feel everything. each nerve, each pulse, you felt it all.

with a clouded mind and a stuffed cunt, you felt like you’re residing in cloud nine. your mouth was just stupidly hung open—you were sure a few strands of your spit were about to run past you’re lips and you whine. “you’re so d-deep, ‘s good, more.”

he’s laid back all lazy like, manspread with you all on top of him. gojo feels his thighs ache a bit from the rough repetitive slams your cunt makes against him before he groans huskily. “s-shittt,” and his arms lock around your neck. the sounds your cunt makes in retaliation were so lewd. soaked and oh so sopping wet.

you were dripping profusely, drenching his lap with nothing but your pool of sweet arousal. “clampin’ all on me, such a nasty g—girl.”

each time your pussy flings down against his lap over and over, it sends multiple shockwaves all throughout your body—so many shockwaves. you’re hot and bothered, he brings a hand down to grab near your right tit, giving it a soft firm squeeze.

“so cute. how deep do you feel me, angel? grab my hand ‘n show me. i wanna know where my girl feels the most stuffed.”

hesitatingly, you grab onto his wrist leading it towards the very lower part of your tummy—he hums a sweet tune, nearly having you in a headlock before you mewl out.

“feel you here, ‘toru,” and you feel your knees sink. he’s so deep, the stretch has your mouth salivating before you gasp. the pointed tip of his cock prods near your clit, causing you to shudder within his hold. “s—satoru, fuck, f-fuckkk.” you’d whine out, and your voice pitches just a bit more. your entire body feels warm, it’s rising temperature the more he’s got your cunt buried to the hilt with his thick cock. a few specks of white hair that coats near his base tickles and titillates against your ass each time you mercilessly plop back down. the air’s growing heavy and stuffy. you can barely even process that a familiar feeling was concurrently arising.

“upsie fuckin’ daisey,” he groans, lifting you up just a bit more. he was so strong, well considering he technically is considered to be the strongest. the strongest in bed for sure—gojo’s got his legs parted, and he’s just dumping such mean inches in and out of your cunt. you swallow him up within your walls every time. his stallion-like stamina was purely out of this world, not showing an ounce of fatigue. “so w-hot ‘n cozy inside f’me, gonna make me cum quick, angel.”

his voice was starting to get a bit trembly and whiny.

breathing patterns irregular and picking up—he was close. although, your release ends up coming straight away, so abruptly quick to where you don’t even get a moment to breathe. it literally takes your breath away—it’s so quick you have to blink thrice.

your body, its first initial response was to vigorously shake upon impact. you gush out, and you hear yourself squelch—surprised that that even came out of you before you slump way back against gojo’s bare chest. he pauses, holding your hips in place before with a sigh, he snickers a cocky, “hm, did you just . . squirt on me, baby?”

alas, there’s no reply—cute.

so much volume came out, it felt incredible. the pressure makes you whimper out louder while still being laid back against him with his twitching cock hidden inside your pussy. he stood still, and yet you still felt the pure stretch mend your walls in place. gojo’s hand slowly reaches down between your legs before feeling near your now sopping wet cunt.

“well shit, you messy girl. you really did squirt on me huh,” and he sounds more playful than usual. gojo finally puts your legs down and then he lifts you up once more, making you rest against him. pressing a wet kiss near the corner of your neck, he whispers, a lengthy finger gradually inserting between your folds. with a hushed whisper, he murmurs, “now that i know you’re a little super soaker, do that for me again, yeah? let’s play with that little squirt velocity of yours for just a bit.”

☆ TOJI fucks like he hates you.

when toji fucks, he fucks.

toji’s mean—an asshole, practically the human embodiment of the seven-lettered word. sure, he loves you. but at this particular moment, it’s like he hates your guts. ironic, considering he was actually deep in them, stirring them up in such a rough spiteful way.

“arch the fuck over more. even i can do better than that, girl,” he indignantly grouses, a hand grips a good handful of your hair whilst he’s just rudely pounding into you. he could arch better than you? truth be told, as you’re moaning your head off while being pounded full of his thick inches from behind, you giggle. toji spanks you, his palm kissing against your ass and you bite your lip from the after-effect of the sting. “giggle giggle ass girl. the fuck is so funny,” and he deepens his thrusts—a gasp lets out from the back of your throat once he smushes his weight against you.

prone bone, one of his favorites.

if toji really wanted to, he’d lean up so close and do his most treasured move—simply putting a foot near the back of your neck. it was so lewd, you’d moan whenever you feel the very back of his sock run against your neck. such a lazy way, a foot pressed against the back of your head while he’s just gifting you with mean thrusts while you’re on all fours. “uh huh. yeah, ‘s what the fuck i thought.”

“you’re the one saying you can a—arch better than me,” you whine, your voice was shaky but he could tell you were holding back laughter. you were playing with fire, especially at a lewd moment like this. he’s deep inside, the tip of his angry cock mashing against each and every corner of your cunt before you’re about to burst. “if you can arch better than me then prove i—”

“. . . listen here bitch,” toji grumbles, feeling his eye twitch.

he tugs just a bit harder on your hair. your back arch was simply immaculate. sitting upright, your palms sat against the sheets of the bed, bawling them up before you felt his free hand grip your waist steadfastly. toji leans right up to your ear before muttering in a low raspy voice. “you know, babygirl. sure do got a lot of talk for someone who struggles to take me every damn time.”

he’s got you there, you swallow before feeling a brief sharp pivot of his hips.

everything was just downright filthy. his strokes had you gasping for air practically—meticulously, he makes sure to hit every spot. his aim was thorough and precise, making sure to hit everywhere like the insides of your cunt was his target. your pussy incessantly clenches every few seconds and it makes him groan. the necklace chain that wraps around his neck tickles your back, the way it runs against your skin makes you metaphorically fold. the material of it skims down your tense muscles and you think you’re so close you could taste your sweet release on the very tips of your tastebuds.

“c—cum, ‘m gonna cum, toji.” you suddenly whimper, feeling the brusque twitch of your right thigh. with your teeth shattering, he continues to maintain a firm grip—this time, his hand placement lowers towards your neck. it gives him a good amount of leverage before he tilts his hips forward. once he does that, he thrashes his angry plump cockhead against your folds and the whine you choke out was immaculate. “f-fuck, cumming.”

toji pauses—something wasn’t right, he knew your body and how it responded to him.

the silence was straight-up deadly. your heart races while he’s still inside, you feel him twitch whilst he’s still buried deep into you and it feels so raw. “oh, girl i know the fuck you didn’t,” he grits, and he pulls out almost immediately. literally the definition of a sassy man—you could hear the bitter annoyance lingering on his tone before he flips you over, making you stare right into his dark viridescent colored eyes. “faking orgasms today yeah? you’re on a roll today.”

“i— i didn’t fake it.” you pout, not fond of the way you were suddenly empty from him pulling straight out. you wanted to be full, but you also wanted to act like a bit of a brat. “it was real.”

“sure,” he rasps, and he suddenly gets up—you’re confused, actually quite close to your finish despite you faking it the first initial time and he casually just reaches for the remote, switching the tv on. “while ya work on making y’erself finish, i’m gonna catch up on shameless.”

“are you serious?” you pant, and he very much is. he’s getting all comfy underneath the silk sheets, lazily throwing his feet up before the dim ‘who’s watching’ prompt for netflix appears. he scrolls on his assigned name which was displayed of ‘old dirty bastard with a few racks.’

“dead serious. heh, now shut up, princess. fiona ‘n lip are speaking.”

☆ CHOSO fucks like it’s the last time.

it’s an ongoing thing for him.

he loves you more than life itself—so for him to have you straddling him, taking in every inch of your gorgeous figure, he had to give you at least one more orgasm. it was the least he could do.

“i love you.” he says, and he repeats it again and again.

once choso says those words—he never hesitates, not even once. with the way your hips rotate, he’s already about to lose all sorts of composure. big rough hands of his grip and attach near your waist to help slam you up and down his pulsating cock. “i— i love you. i love the way you always m-make me feel.”

“i love you too,” you’d say in a short breath, a snatching wind nearly takes your breath away as you feel yourself clench and tighten against him. “babyyy,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “you can touch me more, it’s okay.”

his lip quivers. with a needy look in his eyes, he cutely releases a surprised sigh of relief. “o-oh, thank you. i was gonna ask but i didn’t know if you’d want me to.”

“choso, you’re literally inside of me and you’re shy to ask to touch me?” you tease, sneaking a kiss near the corner of his lips.

a tint of sheer embarrassment rises to his face before he sheepishly smiles, softly running his fingertips against your hips. “oh yeah. r-right,” and you start to rotate your hips even further. your impactful rhythm has him weak, the grinding that you’re doing also has him in an utter chokehold. choso’s speechless—he’s more of a whiner than you, he tries to even suppress his moans by biting his lip but it’s to no use. you’re leaning forward, sliding your hands down his chiseled chest before he whimpers. “you’re so sexy when you touch me,” and then he cutely gasps. “ah, sexy—i mean, breathtaking.”

“you’re adorable,” you titter, and he feels the warmth of your own chest pressing all up against him. he really was though, he’s very gentle with his touch—the way his fingers wander, choso’s heart races a mile a minute. as he’s still massaging your gummy walls with the lengthy size of his cock, he sighs himself. “close, baby?”

he nods, literally melting from your touch.

choso feels abnormally warm—he only wants more of you, he can’t help but inch his face towards you before bringing you into an idyllically deep kiss. it’s passionate, a few poking out strands that ran down his face pricks against your skin and you moan right into his mouth. as you’re rocking into him at such a pace, he touches more. you do the same, a finger trailing down his v-line, his pecs, everywhere. further and further.

“. . . you touching me—” he breaks away, glossy lips starting to stain with his gleaming saliva. he looks so pretty, his dark eyelids start to lower and he whimpers once his cock sits still. you’re practically doing all the work like this, grinding back and forth while he lies back. “you touchin’ me, ‘s gonna make me cum, princess. i— i feel so hot when you touch me.”

“you’re always hot when i do anything,” you tease, sneaking another kiss near the edge of his mouth. choso’s breathing heavier than usual before he feels himself start to pulse—his dick twitches inside and you hear him gasp once he squeezes your hips forward. he’s about to fill you up, he even gives you a glossy eyed stare, pursing his lips as if he’s merely asking permission and with a stroke of a thumb near his lips, you murmur. “it’s okay, give it to me, baby. fill me up.”

he whines, mentally preparing himself before choso feels his thighs tighten. your cunt’s gripping down against him so tight, his jaw clenches. stingy, you had him in an entire hold.

“f— fuckkk, ‘s so much coming. you’re gonna milk me like you always do, princess,” and with his eyes shut, he’s hugging your body against him solidly before seconds later, he cums. it comes out in spurts— such sweltering stringy ropes, he’s taken aback and his moans against your ear only makes you more aroused. you could listen to choso whine into your ear all day, he’s shaking underneath you and he obviously needs a moment. his black hair was all ruffled and messy before he’s still feeling himself emit filthy amounts of seed into your cunt. “s—so good,” he groans, and for a second, his voice gets a bit raspy. “baby,” he swallows, feeling himself burn up—you straddling him like this, frail arms wrap around his shoulders whilst giving him the most sly stare. he felt like he was gonna explode, you were even more warm and toasty inside now that he’s stuffed you full. “marry me,” he suddenly says. “marry me, princess.”

“i’m already your wife, silly,” you tease, he’s still pumping you full of his never-ending amounts of hot cum. you kiss near the twitching right side of his lip before purring. “too worn out to remember?”

he moans, giving your ass a needy squeeze before he throws his head back. “let’s marry again, and again, and again then. s—so i can fill you up like this all the time. i— i want you, i love you,” and then he reaches between your thighs to feel against your cunt, skimming his fingertips against his own strings of cum that painted the inner entrance of your pussy. “i love her just as much,” and then he gasps. “oh … baby, you didn’t even finish.”

☆ GETO fucks like he hasn’t eaten all day.

“less talking, more sitting on my face,” is all he says with the most lust-driven gaze.

a good way for geto to rewind from a long day is to simply be between your plush thighs. it’s his favorite pastime, hell—probably his only pastime.

you’re barely hovering over his mouth by this point—sheeny glossy lips ready to slurp you dry before he hums, a few slender fingers of yours brushing against your hips before you speak, “only if you let me pull on your hair again.”

“ah, you know you can always do that. i keep it extra long just for you, baby.”

your heart swoons—you slowly sit down, positioning your pussy against his mouth, making sure he has a bit of room to breathe before geto gradually creates one single lick against your folds. sopping, you were already soaked and his moist tongue only made matters ten times worse.

“f-fuck,” you’d moan, keeping all eyes on his the entire time. irises of yours dilate immediately the moment you watch geto start to kiss all near the crevices of your shaky legs—only to then suck his lips against your swollen needy clit. he grunts, already feeling a tent creep up in his sweats. your hips move on its own, starting to slowly grind against his face.

back and forth, back and forth…

it was so hypnotic.

you were so hypnotic.

“mhm,” he grunts hoarsely, cupping his mouth near the very top part of your slit — he’s savoring your sweetened taste entirely, lapping the flat of his tongue everywhere. your entrance dampens his chin already and he sneers, licking near the corners of his mouth. such a sloppy man, his tongue then swiftly runs against your hood before it starts to flick and jerk at a much more rapid speed. “move those—hips, ride my fuckin’ face ‘n pull on my hair, pretty girl.”

he’s eating you out so good you’re already feeling a sudden rush shoot through you. you follow what he says exactly, creating a decent rhythm with your hips—he’s so pretty like this too, black lashes half open or just about closed.

geto was already pussy-drunk, that much was to tell. “o-okay, suguuu,” you’d whimper, and you grabbed an ample amount of his tangled strands, giving him a brief hard yank. he always gets hard once you tug on his hair, his head briefly forwards further into your cunt and he chuckles—warm breath fanning against your clit. “right there, sugu. s-spit on it.”

“anything for the princess,” he says between sharp breaths. you’re slowly rocking your hips against his face—feeling the soft tip of his nose brush up and down repeatedly against your dripping entrance before he departs just to spit right on your pussy. he brings a hand to smear it all between your folds, all the while a tongue slides against his own lips and oh he’s hungry. hungry for you. “damn. she just gets more sloppier every fuckin’ time. should be a crime to be this soaked, baby.”

and you whimper, watching with glossy eyes as he laps up his saliva—coating your slick entrance with a plethora of chaste kisses shortly afterward.

it's lustrous, so shiny.

geto makes sure to study your body if its entirety. the way your breathing dramatically picks up and the harder and sloppier your thrusts against his mouth becomes. you’re coming close and he’s much well aware, “yeah,” he utters, and it’s in the mere form of a question. “already, hm? you gonna make a mess on me so i can clean you right back up?”

“y— yes,” you moan, the tugging on his hair only getting rougher. pant after pant escapes through your lips before he starts to playfully nibble right on your clit. a finger of his slowly inserts into you and you clench around it, feeling a few steady pulses before that’s right when you gasp. ultimately, you end up finishing after a few minutes—so much so, that your eyes were all hazy, rolling to the very backs of your are and you whimper loudly, still grinding against his face.

“. . . ooooh,” he hums, a right hand of his that tucks behind you, giving your ass a concise squeeze. once he sits back up again, geto peers into you with a sly amused gaze before giving your cunt one more kiss. “now give me one more, ‘m still not satisfied with my meal, sweetheart.”

[meowdei]

i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

word count. ❤︎ 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

before you read. ❤︎ female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

commentary. ❤︎ i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing. 

Fabric. 

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips. 

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his. 

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him. 

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique. 

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him. 

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat. 

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you. 

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle. 

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?” 

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow. 

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips. 

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own. 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction. 

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort. 

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts. 

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch. 

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him. 

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists. 

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft. 

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock. 

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever. 

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath. 

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

“Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it. 

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then. 

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body. 

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back. 

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow. 

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love. 

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact. 

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning. 

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling. 

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest. 

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive. 

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes. 

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full. 

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod. 

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. 

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you. 

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin. 

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock. 

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

[lostazuree]

JJK boys who'd go wild if their girl gives good blowjob? Yeah. Have a great day. <3

ᯓ✧౨ৎ— Pretty Lips, Stuffed Tip.

✦ ᴊᴊᴋ ᴍᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Sucking your boyfriend off. Smut, NSFW, Head.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: Gojo Satoru, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Geto Suguru & Choso Kamo.

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ .ᐟ

Not that you'd know, maybe, But his mind goes on an absolute overdrive when you start running your tongue over his length. Gripping the armrest of the couch like his life depended on it when you engulf him in your mouth. He's so happy, so giddy, his hand already sliding down to tilt your chin up, his eyes rolling back when you look at him while sucking him off. He just forgets that he's some damn cocky idiot who's high and mighty, he is genuinely that bewitched, so helpless and right where you want him to be, he still wouldn't admit it though. But you can just see how hazy his eyes are, he looks so wrecked. He looks down at you with so much adoration and desire, like you've just made his day. He bites his lips, he has to literally recall every single event that has passed in his life just to not finish so easily, because damn, this is too much, you are too much. "This one time I...fuck, I'm gonna cum-.. I got stuck in a locker-..ngh."

ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ .ᐟ

He just can't deny you like this, and you know that. He can't deny it when you ask him so pleadingly if you can suck him off under his office table. "Kento, please. You won't even notice I'm under your desk. Please." With those vixen eyes? He's sold. "Fine." He says, giving in. But before he can react, he's already in your mouth and he has to suppress a gasp because, "Holy Shit..you're taking it so well, love." His head falls back against his chair, eyes shut closed as his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements. Low groans leaving his lips as he gently urges you to take more of him, slowly, surely. His reports are forgotten, scattered on the table, he can do anything but focus on those at the moment. His glasses are long tossed aside, tie loosened because damn the weather's hot today.

ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ .ᐟ

It's nothing new for him, right? Nothing surprising, right? Wrong! Because that's literally anything but what his reactions tell you. He tries, tries and fails to retain his cool image, but he can't help the shivers speeding down his spine when you swirl your tongue around his tip, taking it in your mouth in a deep, and painfully slow way, one that makes him physically ache with need. "Come on, sweetheart, take more of my dick." He whispers, one hand wiping the sweat off his forehead and the other on your hair, gripping them to keep you stable while he bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper in your mouth. You can't see it, but the way he's panting a little more than usual, his dick twitching in your mouth, his muscles tightening, veins bulging out from restraint, you know you've got him so wrapped.

ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ .ᐟ

How bad could it be? He looks at your pleading gaze and assumes the best scenario. But oh boy, was he so wrong. Not that he'd admit, never in hell would he let you know just how much your tongue around his dick his getting to him, how your hands squeezing his shaft is making him almost dizzy. He's too prideful to say that. "Look at you, such a-..mmf..fuck..such a good girl." His breathing is shallow, ragged, words sputtering borderline incoherent when your swollen lips eagerly take him in. He is panting too much, like he's just been caught off guard. He is shivering, gripping onto an armrest for his dear life while he lifts his hips to let you take him in further. When you look up at him with slightly teary eyes, gagging a little at the size, he can feel himself getting close already. He's never been this pathetic and you've never been more proud.

ɢᴇᴛᴏ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ .ᐟ

Is still sooo cocky even as you suck his dick, because he just can't let you know how bad he's falling apart on your tongue. The way your tongue traces all his length before taking it in, inch by inch, is enough to make him lose his mind. "Mmgh..Good girl..You're taking me so..ngh-..well." His cheeks go red, he's genuinely sweating as you keep sucking his dick, he's trying so hard not to finish, gripping the nearest surface, running a hand though his own hair as his head falls back with a loud groan, which he's quick to silence by biting his lip. His hand soon finds it's way on your cheeks, cupping it gently as he pushes himself deeper, and when his eyes open, falling on you, when you look up at him with those eyes, he's genuinely panicking so bad, hair scattered across his face, sticking to his forehead as he meets your gaze.

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ ᴋᴀᴍᴏ .ᐟ

He can't help it, he really can't. He knew he was screwed in for the best time since you asked him if you could suck his dick. He looks at you with so, so much love and desire in his clouded eyes, like you're a saint preaching sins. He's whimpering, so, so pathetically but he's far too lost to care. He cups your cheeks, thumb stroking the skin as he grunts, "Shit, you're so..mmh..f-..freakin' good, sweets." He whispers out breathlessly, his tone hushed while you take his inches deeper, running your tongue across. He's clinging onto your hair like a lifeline, his eyes blown wide a minute, and then shut tight the next. He's biting his bottom lip so hard you could see it turning red as he pushes in deeper. He's whining, groaning with whispered pleas for you to take him deeper. He's never felt so good before, and never been so noisy before either.

Thank you so much for reading .ᐟ

Reblogs would be highly appreciated .ᐟ🎀

[cherie-doll]

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ ♡ ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

ଘ Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ

[moechies]

kinktober ⋆౨ৎ entry #1 ; cockwarming w toji fushiguro .ᐟ

dear diary ♡,

a couple days ago, mister toji taught me how to 'cockwarm.' it's where i simply sit on his . . . cock, and warm him up -- he says. i was so nervous ! he is so big , and i thought it was going to hurt tons ! it burned a little , but felt so much better after settling a little. mister toji was touching me so softly all over, calling me sweet things, and even played with my tail! i'm so embarrassed -- i must've been blushing so much! i think i may ask him to do it again today , i hope he doesn't get angry . . . i love mister toji so so sooooooo much ! ♡

“c—can we do it when you’re done?”

“what?”

he can tell by the way you’re fidgeting and your ears are twitching— you need something. you pinch at the skin of your thigh, nervous with little courage as you ask.

“the— the thing you taught me. last week. the warming one?” you quip, tugging on toji’s shirt as he finishes up cleaning the dishes in the sink.

“oh.. y’want my fat dick in y’r lil bunny pussy is what ‘m hearing, is that right ?” he emphasizes on dick. he’s so blunt, and it makes you want to crawl and hide. he turns to you with a checkered apron hanging onto his neck, hand leaning against the sink. his smug smile spreads across his face, seeming to enjoy the way you grow flustered.

you whine at his choice of words, thighs rubbing against eachother with need. he acts as if he doesn’t see you writhing besides him, your arm purposefully pressed against your chest to suppress your sore tits.

he can practically smell the sweet slick spilling from your pussy bunny, smearing over the crotch of your panties.

toji briefly tugs at the string that holds the back of his apron together, swiftly pulling it over his head before tossing the piece of fabric onto the dining table. he steps forward, figure pressed against yours and you unconsciously stumble back. he makes you so weak.

“uh huh—“ you’re about to beg again, but he’s quick to scoop you up by your legs, hoisting you up into his arms. you yelp, but make no effort to get away — instead, nuzzling your face closer into the crevice his neck, dizzy at the detected mixed scent of his woody colonge and tart sweat.

he chuckles when you huff at the intial drop of your body onto the matress of your shared room, your plush body sinking into the pillowy sheets. your legs part naturally, taking up your invitation and having him slot himself right where you need him most. his broad shoulders press up against your plush thighs, spreading them further than before.

“bad bunny. y’know you can’t just have cock in ya twenty-four seven, right?” his left pointer finger tugs your flimsy shorts aside, and right thumb presses against the soaked patch of your cunt. you mewl under his touch, soft pads of your feet coming up to press him away. you gently shove at his bicep, but he barely moves. he knows you don’t want him to move anyway. “‘m n—not a bad bunny!”

“you are.”

“n—not, ‘m not mister!”

“hmm, i dunno about that.” he hums, pressing against your clothed clit. “are ya ever not in heat?"

"sir, please, n’more questions!" you whine in fustration, yelping when his pointer and thumb meanly pinches at your swollen bud. your eyes bulb with tears, meeting his that suddenly glare so meanly in comparison to his often soft, emerald ones.

"do you know who you're talking to?" toji growls, squishing the chub of your folds together, the slight simulation to your clit making you flinch.

"y—yes, sir. but please . . . mister, need you here, need your cock here!" you whine, ears sullied and pointed low. your hand moves his to take ahold of his finger, pressing it against your aching slit.

"there there . . ." he coos, thumb sliding over your clothed slit but paying it no attention. he presses a warm kiss on the soddened fabric, low lidded eyes and a smug grin that meet yours when he does. you're adorable like this — absolutely worked up and so terribly desperate; it's his favorite version of you.

"m—mister," you stammer,

"c'mere doll." he sits up against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap. you yelp when you feel the chub of his cock pressing against your folds, grinding down senselessly. toji laughs, getting a hold of your bicep to halt your hips movements. "don't be so greedy, bun."

"hnn—" you whine, tail thumping against his thigh. you slowly tug down his sweats, ears perking up when you realize the missing piece of fabric below — he's not wearing boxers!

he notices the way your eyes light up, cheeks begin to flush, and your expression grows brighter than before — you're one step closer to where you need to be. he almost hates the adorable expression sprawled across your face, chuckling when you look up to him with big-doed eyes searching for a green light.

you salivate when you tug the sweats just low enough, his cock slaps against his stomach. he scoffs, watching his cock leak against his soft skin. he’s getting old.

“inside now— mister—“ you pant, drool spilling at the corners of your mouth. you whine again, hands weakly tugging aside your shorts along with your panties, and aligning his cock head with your fat slit. “mister . . .” you whine, hinting for help.

“y’can do it.” toji grunts, placing a hand onto your plush hip. “ mmh, you got it.”

maybe you don’t ‘got it,’ because it burns so terribly when your folds swallow his cock!

“m—mister, mister !” you whine, quickly pulling yourself off his bulbous tip at the initial burn. he watches your slick stretch from your wet slit to his cock head, making him groan.

“calm down . . y’r rushin,’” he readjusts you, pulling your quivering hips close before you’re hovering over his cock again with small tears. “my bunny can’t do it herself, can’t she? whatta dumb lil’ thing.” toji chuckles, “there there.” he whispers with a sultry voice, making your cunt quiver around nothing.

you whine when you feel him tug down at your hips, whining when his hot tip presses against your slit once again — your slits kissing.

“big sir, s—so big,” you whine, a stutter in your voice from the stretch down low.

“slow down, hurts ‘cause you’re rushin.’ see?” he coos, lifting and lowering your hips over and over, fucking you on his tip. no — you don’t see because you’re awfully lightheaded, hands weakly stabilizing yourself above him but little do you know it’s solely his support keeping you up.

your cunt squelches with each and every single movement, a low ‘pop’ that elicits from your pussy whenever he moves you. “good girl. you can take it, am i ever wrong?”

“i—i can, can take it . . .” you slur, head fluffy and hands weak against his pelvis. “good girl. now sit.”

he grunts, pulling your hips down suddenly all the way, your cunt kissing on his dewy balls. “fuck, damn it.” toji groans — you cry at the stretch, cunt sore and raw when he grinds you down further than possible. “m—mister !”

he chuckles again, breath labored as he pushes the loose strands of his hair back. “worst part’s over, doll.” toji presses down at your arch to lay you against him. he can still feel your body twitching from hiccups of your previous fit — poor bunny. “i—it is . . “ you hiccup. he pets at your soft ear that trails down to your waist, giving your plush skin a soft pinch with a hum. “mister . . feels good . .” you purr, tail twitching incessantly again.

“course it does.”

[metranart]

Will you be Toman’s darling? Mikey can’t seem to stop asking, it’s not enough to be able to fuck you whenever he wants, he needs the title that you’re HIS but not only his but also his mates, those guys he loves more than his own life… and unfortunately, you do as well. 

You don’t understand why it’s so important to them, but each one has asked the same question over and over again. Draken kisses you, his tongue dancing with yours while his hips don’t miss a single thrust, it’s delicious, it’s delirious and he only dares to break the kiss to ask. “Will you be ours?” —You don’t answer, just bite his lip and begin to thrust your hips to him, as a way to distract him but he’s not dumb and less of all, a quitter, so he won’t give up, none of them will! 

Baji’s strong hands anchor you to him, perched on either side of your hips as he rams you from behind, your eyes have been blank for more than fifteen minutes, his name rolls off your tongue like your private mantra and from his tongue rolls: “Say yes,” his ragged breath demands, “Stop torturing us and say yes, shit!” The answer he wants to hear isn’t spoken but that doesn’t discourage him from cumming deep inside you -marking you from the inside out at least gives him so kind of relieve-…. 

Mitsuya’s attempts are more tender, kisses and cuddles, your naked bodies tangled in each other, the strong fingers of his fist tangled among your sweaty strands of silky hair, each thrust hitting that special place inside you that makes you see stars, his lips only parting to adore you and when you think you’re safe: “We will take care of you, we will go out of our way for you… just say yes, just grant us that favor—be OURS….”. Apparently being filled by each and every one of these gang members isn’t enough, moaning their names and marking their necks with hickey doesn’t satisfy them, they want you for themselves, they want you in their gang as their banner as their princess. 

Mikey is the most stubborn, his fat thumb slides under your skirt, snaking behind your panties, two fingers accompanying it to slip inside you, drumming and circling your clit as if it were the joystick of an Xbox control, your flushed cheeks and half-open lids delight him, makes him drunk and dizzy, just being able to put you in that delirious state. He knows it’s his mission in life to have you like this forever, you’re his, you must conquer Tokyo with them, you must stop resisting and agree to their terms. Mikey doesn’t waste any moment to ask, while he kisses you, while he eats you out, while he makes you cum harder than ever. 

“Will you be ours? ....yesyesyesyes-?”

Their teamwork is weakening your good judgment, it’s too much, your knees buckle, and your voice is a permanent moan. Damn! Your shivering lips parted and the gazes of the four gang members shine with hope. Anxiety and stress can be detected in their clenched fists, a heavy silence falls over everyone when you say: 

“I’m already yours, why do we need to tag it… I’m not going anywhere.”

There is disappointment, frustration, even anger but also amusement in their features. They won’t accept a refusal. They will just have to keep convincing you, again and again and again. You are stubborn, but so are they.

➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble 🥵