#... last year. I know shh

[boviform]

Okay, sorry but is anyone else going insane over the new longform on the latest Patreon livestream?? I absolutely love the dynamic of weird mortician and lonely assassin - literally 'me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic'. And the whole confrontation at the end!! I mean, can you imagine what could've been if Pyotr had agreed to give up his ways?? They could have been so happy! I want them to go on holiday around Europe and hold hands!!

[ilikecarsandlike4people]

Some art analysis on why I think the new VR46 bike livery looks "off"

[pocketgalaxies]

the fun thing about crippling imposter syndrome and ridiculously prolonged delayed gratification is that they do this cool combo move where they invent an especially ominous form of anxiety that is insidious and subliminal but reaches into me through to the tips of my fingers like an evil little poison impossible to ignore but also impossible to detect except in the way my jaw aches in the morning and the way i find myself unironically saying "this is the longest week ever" on a forking monday afternoon

[loubatas-art]

[evermorestation]

only nineteen but my mind is older

[ohno-the-sun]

Ya know sometimes it’s funny to me

I’m like why do I always write the boys as humans and specifically recently mermaids, why not write them as robots?

And then I look at my backlog of human bio and fish anatomy stuff and I’m like-

Yeah okay I could world-build for hours using this

And on the other hand I am completely in the dark about most programming and robotics things

[altruistic-meme]

trying to decide if im about to implode or not

[lovelyisadora]

so I did not write my paper. but I’m going to try again tomorrow now that I have sources and well. we will see

[haven-gum-rockrose]

going through it lately. and by it? i mean absolutely nothing actually.

[soulsxng]

Bleddyn Llew Rhodri, life to current day, pt 3

By the time their son was born, there were already rumblings of a coup. Bleddyn and his best student (and fellow royal knight), Laisren, along with the other knights loyal to the young ruler were able to fend them off for almost two whole decades...but over time, as those rallying against the young ruler grew stronger and more organized, the threat eventually became too much.

"I can feel something big on the wind." The young ruler told he and Laisren one day, after pulling the pair aside. "Laisren, I would have you remain here with me. Bleddyn...take Oleander, and bring him to safety outside the Unseelie."

And so he did. Though Oleander protested, wanting to stand alongside his family, he at least understood the severity of the situation enough not to resist Bleddyn overly much. The pair left the Unseelie to meet with a small group of dryad, loyal to the young ruler's cause, just through the Mortal Realm's entrance. And it was there that Bleddyn left him, as he made the return trip to the palace.

...Had he not stopped to assist some of the guards at the city gates, trying to repel a force of coup members, perhaps he would have made it in time to stop those that had slipped into the palace undetected. If he had moved just a bit faster...

When he arrived in the gathering chamber, it was to find Laisren unconscious and mortally wounded just inside the door. The young ruler and his spouse both dead on the floor further in, surrounded by other corpses-- both those of the royal knights, and those loyal to the royal's assassin.

The assassin themselves had faded from view before he could even take a step in their direction. And even if he could have challenged them, he would likely have ended up vastly outnumbered. Instead, he took what bodies he could, to give them a proper return to the earth...including Laisren, whose wounds were ultimately too grave for Bleddyn to heal.

After taking some few days to shake his pursuers (he probably shouldn't have outright declared that he would sooner cleave the new ruler's head from their shoulders when he was given the ultimatum to swear himself to them or die. Probably also shouldn't have then slaughtered as many of his captors as he could before running, as opposed to sneaking away as he could have done far more easily.), he finally managed to make his way back to Oleander...where it was decided that, for the prince's safety, he would assume Laisren's identity.

The pair spent a long while running, after that. Trying to avoid those that intended to capture them and bring them before the new ruler. The time wasn't kind to either of them, and it was only when they were eventually found and taken in by a few members of the Otherworld's Tuatha Dé Danann, that they were finally able to catch their breath.

It's in the Otherworlds that they continue to reside now, acting as knights to the Tuath Dé as a way to repay the kindnesses that they were given in their time of need. Though Bleddyn still views his main purpose in life as guarding "Laisren".

He knows that the once prince intends to face the Unseelie's new ruler one day, in hopes of avenging his parents and the real Laisren. As if he could allow the other to do such a thing. Even if "Laisren" were to succeed, that would only serve to drag him into the same position that ultimately killed his parents. He, who still had so much life to yet live, and so much to accomplish.

In comparison, Bleddyn himself had already lived a full life. He had accomplished and experienced much, and outside of protecting and accompanying Laisren, he felt as though there wasn't much else left for him to do. If it would make Laisren safe, and help him to put the past behind him...

It was easy for Bleddyn to take Laisren's goal as his own. One last thing that he could do to break the cycle, and ensure that Laisren could live the sort of life that he deserved to.

And so, that is currently what he is working toward, along with his daily tasks as a personal knight to the Tuath Dé.

[beaft]

i told my ex about this and they admitted that they didn't know if i was transmasc or transfem until our fourth date and they figured it wasn't their business so they just didn't ask

????????

i am going to tell you guys something and it's going to sound made up but i need you to believe me just this once

[sonarspace]

❝ BABY COME OVER HERE AND RIDE IT OUT ! ❞

꒰ synopsis. love isn’t the only thing they’re giving you tonight.

featuring. nanami. gojo. choso. geto. sukuna. toji. (separate)

warnings. mdni. nsfw. oral (f. receiving). fingering. teasing. kinda rough sex. unprotected sex. kinda overstimulation. size kink. food play (toji's)

an. made this kinda long since i haven't been posting much so i hope you guys enjoy !

❦ KENTO NANAMI

nanami asks you every year, like clockwork. it doesn’t matter that you wear his ring, that you wake up tangled with him every morning, his legs hooked around yours beneath the sheets, or that his touch is already written into your skin like a vow. he still does it. like it’s the first time.

"be my valentine."

his voice is low, rasping, the first thing you hear before you even open your eyes. the morning light spills through the curtains, catching the sharp angles of his face, his blond hair glowing in the soft haze. he’s already dressed, standing beside the bed with one knee pressed into the mattress, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. not something rushed, not a last-minute grab. he chooses them carefully, every year, arranging them with the precision he applies to everything in his life—especially you.

your fingers ghost over the petals before curling around his wrist, tugging him closer. his lips part just slightly, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick between your face and your grip on him.

"always."

the word barely leaves your lips before he’s leaning down, pressing his mouth to the inside of your wrist, then your temple, then your lips—lingering, savoring, like he’s etching the moment into his memory.

dinner is familiar, comfortable in its ritual. candlelight flickers against polished silverware, the low hum of conversation surrounding you, the occasional clink of glass. nanami sits across from you, his presence sharp even in his silence. he’s composed, refined, but his attention is heavy, a weight you feel pressing into your skin.

his hand remains firm on your thigh beneath the table, fingers kneading the fabric of your dress, thumb drawing absentminded circles against your skin. he watches you sip your wine, his golden eyes tracking the movement, darkening as your lips part around the rim of the glass, your tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop of red.

"you're quiet," you muse, setting your glass down.

his gaze lifts, sharp and unreadable. "just watching."

the rasp in his voice makes your stomach tighten, heat blooming low in your belly. his fingers flex against your thigh, pressing just a little harder. he doesn’t say anything else, but you can feel the storm gathering behind his composure.

you don’t even make it five steps past the front door before he’s on you.

"you have no idea," he growls against your throat, his breath hot, his body pressing you back against the door. his hands grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, and you let out a gasp as your legs wrap around his waist. he holds you up like you weigh nothing, like you belong there.

"how fucking hard it was to sit through dinner."

his lips trail along your jaw, down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin without a care. he doesn’t want you to hide them.

"kento—"

"shh."

his hips roll into you, slow, deliberate, the thick weight of his cock pressing against your core through his slacks. the pressure makes you shiver, your fingers fisting into his shirt.

"you were testing me."

his voice is lower now, a growl buried deep in his chest. his hands tighten where they grip you.

"sat there all night, acting innocent, knowing you weren’t wearing anything under that dress."

his hand slides between your bodies, fingers pressing against your slit, cupping your heat through the thin material. his jaw clenches, breath hitching as he feels the wetness seeping through.

"fuck."

he presses harder, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit.

"this all for me?"

you nod, whimpering, nails digging into his broad shoulders. his belt clinks, his slacks fall, and then he’s pressing the flushed head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it through your slick, teasing, torturing.

"gonna take me like a good girl?"

your body trembles, and he smirks.

"course you are."

then he sinks in.

your eyes go wide, your back arching, nails scraping down his back as he stretches you open, inch by inch.

"oh, fuck."

nanami shudders, stilling for a moment, his head falling to your shoulder, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

"so fucking tight."

he pulls back just enough before thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt.

your head snaps back, mouth falling open, a breathless sound caught in your throat.

"mine," he growls, his pace deep, steady, brutal. calculated, like he’s making up for lost time, like he needs you to feel him in your bones.

his hands are everywhere—gripping your thighs, holding you still, keeping you pinned against the door as he drives into you. you’re gasping, whimpering, clutching at him, and he laughs, dark and low in your ear.

"such a needy little thing."

he grinds into you, so deep you feel him in your stomach, his forehead pressing against yours, golden eyes locked onto you, watching you break apart on his cock.

"gonna cum for me?" his thumb slides down, pressing against your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles. "gonna make a mess all over me?"

your body tenses, pleasure slamming into you, your orgasm ripping through you like a live wire, leaving you shaking in his arms.

"fuck—fuck, kento—!"

"oh, fuck," he pants, his hips stuttering, losing rhythm, and then he’s spilling inside you, grinding in deep, making you take all of it.

his grip softens, hands moving to smooth over your skin, his mouth pressing slow, lingering kisses against your shoulder, your collarbone, the corner of your lips.

"every damn year," he whispers again, softer this time, like a promise.

like next year, he’ll ask again.

and next year, you’ll say yes.

❦ SATORU GOJO

when you wake up, there’s a handwritten note on your pillow. messy scrawl, a little smudged, but the message is clear.

'be mine?'

when you step into the kitchen, he’s already there, leaning against the counter, sipping from a coffee cup, watching you with that familiar smirk. his hair is still tousled from sleep, white strands sticking up in every direction, and his robe is hanging loosely off his shoulders, like he didn’t bother to tie it properly.

“so?” he tilts his head, expectant. “what’s your answer?”

you roll your eyes, setting the note down beside your mug. “who else would i say yes to?”

he hums, stepping closer, fingers grazing your waist, warm and easy, like he has all the time in the world. “smart girl.” his lips brush over your temple, soft, but there’s something heavier behind it—the way his hands slide lower, gripping at your hips like he’s already thinking about something else.

“y’know,” he murmurs, voice dropping, “i’ve been craving something sweet all morning.”

you barely have time to react before he grips the back of your thighs and lifts you onto the counter, stepping between your legs.

“satoru—”

“shh, lemme have my breakfast first.”

he kneels between your thighs, pushing them apart, sliding your panties down your legs with agonizing patience.he keeps his eyes on you, watching, waiting, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers trace up the inside of your thighs, slow and deliberate.

“fuck,” he breathes, fingertips pressing into your skin as he stares at your slick folds like he’s starving.

he parts you with his thumbs, his tongue flicking out, teasing at your clit before pulling back just to see the way you react. you shudder, hands gripping at the counter, thighs threatening to close, but he stops you with a firm grip.

“nah, sweetheart, lemme see all of you,” he mutters, holding you open, licking another slow, deliberate stripe up your cunt. your head falls back, a breathless moan slipping past your lips as he starts to eat you like he’s savoring something decadent.

he hums against you, like he’s enjoying himself just as much as you are. his tongue circles your clit before sucking it into his mouth, groaning at the way your body reacts. his fingers slide up, spreading you wider as he licks into you, wet and filthy, taking his time.

your fingers tangle into his soft hair, pulling, and he just groans into you, sending vibrations through your core.

he eats like he’s starving, sucking and licking, dragging it out, making sure to taste every inch of you. when he slips his tongue inside, fucking into you with slow, deep strokes, you let out a choked gasp, legs trembling around his shoulders.

his grip tightens, holding you still, keeping you open as he flicks his tongue over your clit again, faster now, relentless.

“satoru, i—”

“mmm, c’mon, baby,” he groans, pressing his face deeper, tongue pressing against your clit, sucking hard. “gimme what i want.”

your body tenses, thighs squeezing around his head as pleasure slams into you all at once, breaking you open. you cry out, grinding against his mouth, and he groans, licking you through it, dragging it out, refusing to stop until you’re trembling against him.

when he finally pulls away, he licks his lips, smirking, eyes blown wide as he stares up at you.

“fuck, baby,” he breathes, dragging his thumb through your slick, bringing it to his mouth just for one last taste. “you really are the sweetest treat.”

you whimper at his words, body still shaking, but he’s already standing, already pressing against you again.

his hands slide up your waist, fingers curling into your hair, tugging your head back just enough for him to whisper against your skin.

“think you can handle more?”

his cock presses against your thigh, heavy and hard, and you realize he’s not even close to being done with you.

his lips brush your jaw, as he nudges your legs wider, pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

❦ CHOSO KAMO

choso wasn’t sure what possessed him to do this. he’d spent weeks overthinking every detail, from what to cook to what music to play in the background. he wasn’t good at things like this—planning dates, making moves, figuring out if someone actually liked him the way he liked them. but when valentine’s day came around, he swallowed his nerves and asked if you’d come over for dinner.

and now you’re standing in his doorway, smiling at him like he’s not completely losing his mind.

“happy valentine’s,” he says, awkwardly holding out the flowers he bought earlier that day. they’re slightly crumpled from how tightly he’s been gripping them, but the colors are nice, and he hopes you won’t notice.

you take them gently, fingers brushing his as you bring them up to your nose. “you got me flowers?”

“uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “thought you might like them.”

“i love them,” you say, and his heart does something weird in his chest.

he steps aside so you can come in, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie to keep them from fidgeting. the apartment smells warm, something rich and savory simmering on the stove. it’s cozy, a little cluttered, but in a way that feels lived in.

“you really went all out,” you tease, setting the flowers down on the counter, eyes sweeping over the neatly set table. “candles, music, a home-cooked meal? you trying to impress me, choso?”

he swallows hard, avoiding your gaze. “maybe.”

dinner is nice, easier than he expected. he listens more than he talks, letting you carry the conversation, letting himself soak in the sound of your voice. you’re so comfortable, so at ease, while he’s been tense all night, too aware of how much he wants this to go well.

at some point, you must notice, because you set your fork down and tilt your head at him. “you’re really nervous, huh?”

he lets out a breath, staring down at his plate. “yeah. i—” he hesitates, then sighs. “you just seem so... calm. like this is nothing for you.”

you blink at him, then shake your head with a small laugh. “choso, i’m just as nervous as you are.”

his head lifts, brows furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe it. “you don’t look it.”

“i hide it better than you do,” you admit, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “but trust me, i’ve been overthinking this just as much as you.”

his fingers twitch beneath yours, his whole body going still as he processes what you just said. then his shoulders drop a little, the tension easing just enough for him to exhale.

somehow, after dinner, you both end up on the couch, sitting close, legs barely brushing. you’re talking about something, but choso’s focus keeps slipping, keeps drifting to the way you’re sitting so comfortably in his space, like you belong there.

and then you’re looking at him, your voice softer now. “can i kiss you?”

his breath catches, fingers tightening where they rest on his lap. “yeah.”

you lean in, and he barely has time to process it before your lips press against his. it’s soft at first, slow, like you’re giving him a chance to pull away if he wants to. but he doesn’t. his hand comes up, fingers slipping into your hair as he kisses you back, tentative but growing bolder the longer he gets lost in the feeling.

somewhere along the way, you move into his lap, straddling him, your weight pressing down against him in a way that makes his head spin. his hands settle on your hips, gripping tightly, like he’s afraid to move too much and break whatever spell this is.

then you roll your hips, slow, teasing, and choso chokes on a gasp, hands flying to your waist to hold you still.

“fuck,” he breathes, forehead dropping against your shoulder. “you—fuck.”

you do it again, and his fingers dig into your skin, his breath coming faster, harder.

“this okay?” you whisper, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

he nods, swallowing hard. “yeah. yeah, just—” he exhales sharply when you grind down again. “god, that feels good.”

his hands slide up, dragging along your sides, gripping at you like he’s still trying to process that this is happening. his hips move on instinct, pushing up to meet yours, the friction making him shudder.

he’s so warm beneath you, so solid, so desperate, making the tiniest, neediest sounds every time you move against him. his head falls back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched.

“you’re shaking,” you murmur, fingers threading through his hair.

he lets out a breathless laugh. “you’re really gonna act like you’re not?”

you smile, kissing him again, deeper this time, slower. his hands slide under your shirt, warm palms pressing against bare skin, not pushing, just holding, just wanting to feel.

his hips stutter beneath you, his grip tightening as he exhales sharply. “gonna—fuck, gonna cum if you keep—”

you press down harder, grinding in slow, lazy circles, and he moans, low and broken, his whole body trembling beneath you. his fingers grip tight, his breath stuttering as he falls apart, hips jerking up against you, voice catching in his throat.

you kiss him through it, soft and slow, dragging your fingers down his back as he shudders beneath you. he’s panting when he finally collapses against the couch, flushed and dazed, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at you.

you lean in, lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “best valentine’s day ever.”

he groans softly, chest still rising and falling against yours. “yeah.”

then, before you can process it, he’s flipping you onto your back, pressing you into the cushions, settling between your legs.

“what are you—”

“returning the favor,” he murmurs, lips brushing along your jaw, down your throat, his hands sliding beneath your thighs.

his breath is warm against your skin, his voice barely more than a whisper. “let me taste you.”

his hands tighten on your waist as he sinks lower, lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, parting your legs, settling between them like he belongs there.

when his lips finally close around your clit, when his tongue presses against you, slow and wet and filthy, he groans like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had.

and when you moan his name, fingers twisting in his hair, hips rolling up to meet his mouth, he's determined to make this valentine’s day one you’ll never forget.

❦ SUGURU GETO

you don’t expect him to show up at your door.

it’s late, the night air cool against your skin when you open it to find suguru standing there, leaning against the frame like he belongs there, like he’s been here a hundred times before.

his black hair is tied up, a few loose strands falling over his forehead, and his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his coat. he looks effortless, like always, like this is just another night for him, like he didn’t just show up on your doorstep without calling first.

"you busy?" he asks, voice smooth, lazy, like he already knows the answer.

"if i was?" you challenge, tilting your head.

he hums, stepping closer, the smallest smirk tugging at his lips. "then i'd say i’ll wait."

you roll your eyes but step back to let him in, because this is suguru, because you’re used to him showing up unannounced, because part of you had been waiting for this, hoping for it, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he shrugs out of his coat, draping it over the back of your couch before stretching, muscles shifting beneath his sweater, his movements so slow, so casual, like he has all the time in the world.

"so?" you prompt, watching as he surveys your apartment like he hasn’t been here a hundred times before.

he turns to you, dark eyes flicking over your face, taking in the way you cross your arms over your chest, trying to act like his presence doesn’t make your stomach tighten.

"figured i should at least stop by," he says. "it is valentine’s day, after all."

you snort. "since when do you care about that?"

"i don’t," he says, stepping closer, slow and deliberate, until he’s standing in front of you, close enough that you have to tip your head back slightly to meet his gaze. "but you do."

your heart stutters in your chest, your pulse quickening, because this is different. suguru has always been laid back, has always flirted with you in a way that was easy to brush off as friendly. but right now, he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for something, like he’s testing you, like he’s finally giving you the chance to close the distance.

you swallow, feeling your fingers twitch at your sides. “and what exactly are you offering?”

his lips twitch, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite place. "whatever you'll let me."

there’s a pause, heavy, stretching between you, neither of you moving, neither of you looking away.

and then, finally, you reach for him, your fingers curling into the front of his sweater as you pull him in.

he follows easily, his body pressing against yours, his breath warm against your lips. he lets you set the pace, lets you tug him down, lets you kiss him first.

but the second your lips press against his, he takes over.

his hands slide up your sides, fingers curling around your waist, pulling you in, pressing you against him like he’s been waiting for this. he kisses you slow, deep, lazy in a way that makes your head spin, like he has nowhere else to be, like he has all night to take his time with you.

you sigh against him, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, tugging at the tie keeping it in place.

he groans softly when you pull it free, his hair falling around his shoulders, and you swear you feel him smile against your lips.

"finally," he murmurs, his voice lower now, rougher.

"shut up," you breathe, pulling him back in, kissing him deeper, harder, pressing your body against his.

he lets you, lets you set the pace for a moment, lets you take what you want. but then his hands slide lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, walking you back until your back hits the couch.

you gasp as he lowers you onto it, pressing himself between your legs, his weight warm, solid, grounding.

his lips trail down your throat, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin, his breath warm against your collarbone.

"suguru," you whisper, fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

he groans, hands tightening on your hips, his body rolling against yours, slow, teasing, letting you feel him.

you whimper, arching into him, rocking your hips up to meet his, the friction sending a shiver down your spine.

his breath stutters, his grip tightening, his body pressing down against you, like he’s trying to hold himself back.

"been thinking about this for a while," he admits, his voice rough against your skin.

you smile, tilting your head to capture his lips again, rolling your hips against him, feeling the way his breath catches.

"then stop thinking," you murmur.

he groans, his hands sliding beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your bare skin, his lips dragging over your throat, your jaw, back to your mouth.

he kisses you like he’s memorizing the feeling, like he wants to make up for all the time he wasted pretending he didn’t want this.

his hips move in slow, deliberate rolls, pressing against you, making your breath hitch, making heat coil low in your stomach.

you can feel how hard he is, can feel how much he’s holding back, his fingers gripping your waist like he’s trying to keep himself steady.

"suguru," you whisper, dragging your nails down his back.

he exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm, unsteady.

"tell me you want this," he says, his voice low, strained.

you smile against his lips, pressing your hips up against his again, feeling the way he shudders.

"i do."

his resolve snaps.

his hands grip your thighs, his lips crashing into yours, his body pressing you deeper into the couch, grinding against you in slow, deep rolls, his breath ragged, his hands trembling.

"fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his hips moving harder, faster, almost desperate now.

you moan, clinging to him, arching up to meet every movement, the friction building, overwhelming.

"sugu—"

"i want this every day," he breathes, his voice breaking, his body tensing as he loses himself in you. "i want you every day."

his hips stutter, his fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he moans against your throat, coming undone with you, his body shaking with it.

you hold him through it, dragging your hands up his back, whispering his name, pressing soft kisses against his jaw as he shudders in your arms.

when he finally catches his breath, he leans up just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy and dark, but softer than you’ve ever seen them.

he smiles, breathless, pressing his lips to your forehead. "yeah," he murmurs. "definitely want this every day."

❦ SUKUNA RYOMEN

you don’t expect anything from sukuna.

it’s not that you think he’s forgotten—he doesn’t forget things, least of all when people expect something from him. it’s that he doesn’t care.

valentine’s day is meaningless to him, just some cheap human tradition, an excuse for people to drape themselves in red and pink and beg for attention. and he’s never been the type to do something just because everyone else is doing it.

so you don’t ask, don’t even bring it up. you go about your day as usual, pretending it doesn’t sting just a little that he doesn’t even acknowledge it.

but when you walk into the room, something shifts.

he’s lounging on the couch, legs spread wide, arm slung over the backrest, posture completely at ease. the flickering light from the television casts sharp shadows along his face, accentuating the angles of his jaw, the high cut of his cheekbones. the pink strands of his hair catch the glow, almost soft if not for the way his deep red eyes flick over to you.

at first, he doesn’t react. doesn’t say anything. just stares, unblinking, scanning you from head to toe.

then, finally, his head tilts, his mouth curling into something that isn’t quite a smirk but isn’t neutral either.

"what the hell are you wearing?"

you blink, brows lifting. "a dress?"

he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, studying you with unreadable intent.

"for me?"

"not everything is about you, sukuna," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest.

he scoffs, but his gaze never leaves you, dragging over the shape of your legs, the dip of your waist, the way the fabric clings to you in all the right places.

"you sure about that?" his voice dips lower, not quite rough, but there’s something deliberate in the way he speaks, a certain weight behind his words. "because you’re standing there, looking like that, and now i’ve got a problem."

you roll your eyes, turning toward the kitchen. "if you’re just gonna be annoying, i’ll go find someone else to spend valentine’s with."

you barely make it two steps before his hand catches your wrist, yanking you back with zero effort, making you stumble right into his chest.

"you think anyone else could handle you?" he murmurs, voice lower now, a little rougher, edged with something smug.

his other hand moves, trailing up your thigh, just enough to make you exhale a little too sharply.

you sigh, feigning boredom, your lips twitching. "big words from someone who looks like a walking valentine’s day decoration."

his brows lift, amused. "what?"

you smirk, tilting your head, your fingers lifting to brush over the pink strands of his hair. "pink hair, red eyes? loverboy, you are valentine’s day personified."

"yeah?" he muses, voice low, slow, eyes dragging over you like he’s figuring out exactly how he wants to ruin you. his hands trail up your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.

"then get on my lap," he murmurs, smirking as his hands slide lower. "if you're gonna dress like a present, i might as well unwrap you."

before you can protest, he’s already pulling you down, making you straddle his thighs.

you huff, shifting in his grip, feeling the heat of his body beneath you. "if you don’t care about today, then what the hell is this?"

his smirk never fades, his fingers dragging up your back, his voice a low drawl.

"who said i cared?" he murmurs, lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "maybe i just wanna remind you who you fucking belong to."

his hands move over your waist, his touch heavier now, his palms pressing firmly as he grinds up against you, letting you feel how hard he already is beneath you.

he groans softly, head tilting back just slightly, his fingers pressing into your hips as he rolls his hips up to meet yours.

"fuck," he exhales, voice lower now, thick with something that makes your stomach coil tight. "go on, then. take what you want."

his hands drop lower, gripping the curve of your ass, urging you to move against him, to drag this out, to tease him.

"shit," you breathe, nails sinking into his shoulders, feeling every inch of him beneath you.

he chuckles, his chest rising and falling steadily, his eyes gleaming with something smug.

"what?" his voice is laced with amusement, his lips barely twitching into a grin. "can’t even handle it?"

you glare at him, breath unsteady. "if you’d just let me—"

his fingers flex, his hips snap up, cutting you off as a groan rumbles in his throat.

"quit whining and ride me properly," he growls.

you inhale sharply, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down, rolling your hips in slow, deep motions that you know will shut him up.

his hands fly back to your waist, grip tightening, breath growing uneven as his head tips back against the couch, his jaw clenching.

"fuck—" his voice catches, his body stiffening slightly beneath you.

his usual smirk is gone now, replaced by something hazier, his brows furrowing as his body tenses.

"god, you—" his fingers tremble against your waist, his rhythm faltering as you keep pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

his control crumbles, his breathing turning shallow, his chest rising and falling in uneven waves as his forehead drops against your shoulder.

"shit—fuck, slow down," he mutters, but he makes no real effort to stop you.

his hands grasp at your skin, his movements growing sloppier, needier, a soft, broken sound slipping past his lips when you roll your hips just right.

"you said to ride you," you murmur against his ear, dragging your fingers up the back of his neck, feeling the way his breath hitches.

he groans, deep and almost desperate, his hips jerking up instinctively, chasing the feeling.

"fuck," he breathes, voice barely above a whisper, his body trembling beneath you, struggling to keep up.

you lean in, lips brushing his jaw. "then let go."

his entire body shudders, his grip on you bruising as his hips stutter beneath you, a wrecked sound breaking free from his throat as he comes apart, gasping into your neck.

his fingers twitch against your waist, his muscles tensing before finally going lax, his breath warm against your skin, his chest still heaving.

for a long moment, he just stays there, dazed, his head tilted back against the couch, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet yours.

his smirk is weak, unfocused, but still there.

"you're still gonna fucking pay for that," he mutters, voice ragged.

you grin, dragging your fingers down his chest. "happy valentine’s, loverboy."

he groans, hands still on you, already shifting beneath you, already ready to flip you over.

"shut up," he breathes, lips curving into something sharper. "you’re not done yet."

❦ TOJI FUSHIGURO

toji doesn’t believe in holidays.

at least, not ones that require effort. gifts, fancy dinners, long romantic speeches—all a waste of time, in his opinion. but that doesn’t stop you from raising a brow when you walk into the apartment and find him exactly where you expect, sprawled out on the couch, legs spread, looking like he hasn’t moved in hours.

"you’re pathetic," you say, dropping your bag onto the table.

he grunts, barely glancing at you, one arm propped behind his head. "and you’re late."

"late for what?" you scoff, kicking off your shoes. "don’t tell me you actually planned something."

he snorts, finally looking at you, eyes trailing down your legs, up your body before landing on your face.

"yeah," he mutters, stretching, shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of muscle, the deep v-line dipping into his sweats. "planned to be balls-deep by now, but here you are, runnin’ your mouth instead."

you roll your eyes, turning toward the kitchen until something on the counter catches your attention.

a small, neatly packed box of chocolate-covered strawberries sits there, next to a crumpled receipt. no ribbons, no gift bag—just the box, like he cared enough to pick them out but didn’t see the point in dressing it up.

your lips twitch. "so you did get me something."

toji groans, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up. "tch. they were sittin’ by the register. thought, ‘hey, maybe this’ll shut her up.’"

you pick one up, rolling it between your fingers before bringing it to your lips, taking a slow bite. the chocolate melts over your tongue, the juice spilling slightly at the corners of your mouth.

you hum, swallowing before flashing him a smirk. "you want one?"

toji watches you for a moment, his green eyes dark, tracking the way your tongue flicks out to catch the mess before it drips down your chin.

"nah," he mutters, pushing off the couch and closing the distance between you in a few lazy strides.

before you can react, his fingers wrap around your wrist, plucking the strawberry from your grip, pressing the juicy tip against your lips.

"bite," he murmurs.

your breath hitches, but you do, sinking your teeth into the fruit at the same time as he does. your mouths are barely an inch apart when sweet juice spills from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin.

toji grins against the mess, teeth flashing, eyes gleaming before he licks the trail from the edge of your mouth, slow and deliberate.

"fuckin’ sweet," he mutters. he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth just enough to make your knees feel weak.

before you can say anything, his hand grips your waist, his other swiping the box of chocolates off the counter.

"toji—?"

he doesn’t answer. instead, he tucks the box under his arm and bends low, gripping the backs of your thighs before lifting you up effortlessly.

"toji, put me down—"

"well no," he says, smirking as he adjusts his hold, carrying you and the chocolates back toward the bedroom like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

you barely have time to process it before you feel the cool air of your shared room against your skin, and then he’s dropping you onto the bed.

before you can even sit up, he’s already pulling at your clothes.

"off," he mutters, voice rough, hands yanking your top over your head, pushing your bottoms down so fast it leaves you breathless.

your pulse jumps as he strips you bare in seconds, moving too fast for you to keep up, his own shirt already on the floor before you realize he even pulled it off.

his sweats hit the floor next, leaving him just as bare, the heat of his body pressing against yours again before you can even get a word out.

he smirks at you, running his palm over your thigh, like he knows you’re still catching up.

"dizzy?" he teases, voice dipping lower.

you glare at him, chest rising and falling, fingers curling into the sheets. "you—"

he doesn’t let you finish. his hand slides up, gripping your jaw, kissing you deep, messy, full of heat.

"shh," he murmurs against your lips, pressing you further into the mattress, his other hand reaching for the box of chocolates.

he plucks out another strawberry, dragging it over your chest, your stomach, watching as melted chocolate smears across your skin.

he keeps the strawberry on your mound, eyes flicking up to meet yours, watching the way your breath shudders when you realize what he’s about to do.

his mouth follows the trail, tongue dragging along the warm, sticky path, making sure to clean up every last drop.

and when he finally reaches the strawberry, he bites into it right where it rests, juices spilling, mixing with your own, and his mouth is on you in an instant, licking it all away.

you gasp, back arching, thighs twitching as his tongue moves slow, deep, thorough.

"fuck," he mutters against you, voice rough. "tastes better than chocolate."

his thick fingers slip inside you easily, curling deep. his tongue swirls against your clit, his pace ruthless, not giving you a second to process.

a mix of his mouth and fingers builds you up too fast, your body tightening, already spiraling toward the edge before you can stop it.

"toji—fuck—"

"mhm," he hums, sending vibrations straight through you, his fingers pressing deep, hitting the perfect spot over and over.

the orgasm rips through you before you even realize, sudden, overwhelming, your body trembling as he keeps licking, keeps working you through it until you’re pushing at his head, gasping for air.

he finally pulls away, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

but something’s different.

he looks down at you. his expression unreadable and jaw set tight.

"what’s wrong?" you ask, still breathless, voice hazy.

toji exhales through his nose, fingers tapping idly against your thigh. his jaw flexes, like he’s debating saying something but hesitating.

"forget it," he mutters, shaking his head.

"no," you say immediately, grabbing his wrist. "tell me."

he doesn’t look at you right away. his lips press together, like he’s chewing on the words, debating if he should even say them.

finally, he exhales. "i just—" he stops, brows furrowing. "sometimes i feel like… i don’t do enough. for you."

your chest aches at the way he says it, like he’s expecting you to agree. like part of him is��waiting for you to confirm that he’s not enough.

"what, you think i need some grand romantic gesture?" you tease, running a hand through his messy hair. "toji, if i wanted candlelit dinners and corny love letters, i would’ve picked someone else."

you pull him down, kissing him slow, deep, like you need him to understand.

"you do more than enough," you murmur against his lips. "i have you. that's all i need."

he stares at you for a second, like he’s trying to believe it.

then he smirks, some of the tension melting from his shoulders.

"good," he breathes, fingers tightening on your waist. "’cause i already booked us a flight for tomorrow."

you freeze, eyes blinking up at him. "you—what?"

he chuckles, brushing his thumb over your mouth before sinking lower, pressing a kiss beneath your jaw.

"figured you deserved a vacation’," he murmurs against your neck. "so we’re gettin’ the hell outta here for a few days."

your breath catches, excitement flickering through you, replacing the heat already settling in your stomach.

"where?"

he nips at your collarbone, dragging his tongue over the mark he leaves behind.

"you’ll find out when we get there."

you gasp, half-annoyed, half-turned on. "you’re such a bastard."

he grins, pressing another chocolate-stained kiss to your chest.

"yeah?" his breath fans against your skin, his voice dipping lower. "say that again when i’m making you cum for the third time tonight."

an. HAPPY LATE V-DAY LOVERS <3!

[enhaflixer]

bf!riki x f!reader - waking you up with head HARD HOURS fic (18+ MDNI)

The first thing you register is warmth. Not just from the sheets tangled around you, but from something hot and wet, something slow and rhythmic, something that makes you hum softly in your sleep before your body even catches up with your brain.

It’s familiar.

It’s him.

Your legs twitch, shifting instinctively, but the firm grip on your thighs keeps you spread open, keeps you right where he wants you. There’s no hesitation in the way he’s licking into you, no slow teasing like he’s trying to wake you gently—no, Riki is devouring you, just like he always does. Like he’s been doing this for years.

Your body shudders, breath hitching, and you try to roll your hips, but his hands tighten in warning.

“Shh,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing over your soaked, swollen clit, and fuck—his voice is so deep and raspy, thick with sleep, but there’s that lazy amusement in it too, that smugness that makes you burn. “Relax, baby. Let me wake you up properly.”

Your fingers twitch in the sheets, a sleepy whimper slipping past your lips as his tongue flicks against you, slow and deliberate, sending little shocks of pleasure up your spine.

“Mm, there you are,” he hums, pressing a slow, obscene kiss right against your clit. “Knew you wouldn’t last long.”

You let out a soft, choked sound, hips jerking, and Riki just chuckles, his grip keeping you right where he wants you.

“How many times have I woken you up like this, huh?” he muses, voice low and teasing, like he’s just making casual morning conversation while he’s got his face buried between your legs. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

“Riki,” you finally gasp, voice still thick with sleep, breathless from how wrecked you already are.

“Mm?” His tongue drags down, slow and filthy, lapping at you so softly it makes you ache.

“Y-you’re—” Your voice catches as he sucks your clit into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing, his groan vibrating against you.

“Me? What?” he murmurs, voice smug as ever, his fingers pressing into your thighs, keeping you spread wide. “Being a good boyfriend?”

You whimper, toes curling in the sheets, your legs trembling as he keeps up those slow, lazy strokes with his tongue—like he has all the time in the world, like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing than licking you open first thing in the morning.

“Yeah,” he mutters, pressing his tongue flat against you and giving a long, slow lick. “Thought so.”

Your fingers find his hair, gripping tight, and you feel him grin against you before he really starts working you over, his tongue flicking, lapping, his mouth moving in that perfect rhythm that he knows makes you fall apart.

“You close?” he asks after a moment, his voice so casual you could almost miss the fact that he’s ruining you completely.

“Riki—fuck—”

He laughs, breath warm against your slick skin. “That’s a yes.”

And then he locks his lips around your clit and sucks hard, his fingers finally slipping down to join his mouth, pressing into you so perfectly that you’re gone in an instant, back arching, mouth falling open on a shaky moan as your whole body convulses under him.

Riki groans, lapping you up as you shudder through it, sucking you through your high, not stopping until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation, trying to squirm away.

Only then does he finally pull back, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to the inside of your thigh before stretching out beside you like he didn’t just wreck you first thing in the morning.

“See?” he murmurs, voice smug and pleased with himself. “Way better than an alarm clock.”

You barely have the energy to roll over and smack his chest, but he just grins, pulling you in and pressing his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Morning, baby,” he whispers.

[writingwisterias]

Do you think you could write pornstar!leon x reader? I’m not in any rush, I just needed to get this idea out

I was thinking older Leon (40s-60s) x college student reader (early 20s at the youngest)

He’s been retired for quite a while, but you stumbled onto his old videos somehow, and you’re obsessed with them. I’m imagining he did them when he was a little older for one reason or another but he stopped. Maybe an erectile problem or he got bored of it. Or something entirely different, it’s up to you.

Then you meet him somehow, one thing leads to another and you’re fucking your favorite ex-pornstar <3

I don’t have anything else in mind, maybe a little good old cunnilingus and something about how the guys your age don’t know how to treat someone right. I don’t know I just needed to share this.

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! I really hope you enjoy because I've had the idea for so long and you have provided the best opportunity for it!!

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Basically Porn, Dom Leon, Age-Gap, Sub Reader, Drinking, Rough sex, Light Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Filming, Unprotected Sex, Masturbation, Erectile dysfunction, implied sex addicts Words: 4.3k

Thank you Two n Eva for letting me ramble constantly again...and Shy for beta readings ily all (ignore me adding tags when I remember them it's late for me shh)

Part 2

It shouldn't be this hard. It’s not like he hasn’t done it a thousand times already. The method was simple, he could even use his own videos for reference if he wanted to. Leon squeezed the base yet again, willing the damn thing to even just twitch. It didn’t matter what he did anymore, his days of pleasure seemed to come to an end. The viagra that remained unopened in the bedside table was becoming tempting but that was a last resort, a pathetic one at that. It made him feel old to admit defeat like he’s lost his glory days.

Leon squeezed the base again, the pads of his fingers running along his sack. The stimulation gave him something, a small twitch barely noticeable with his dick in his tight grip. Yet, it was something, the only proof that it still had some energy left in the damn thing. 

The tip was pink and sad staring at him from where he looked down on it. No longer was it that angry red colour, spewing out dribbles of pre cum eagerly. That’s why the fans liked him, he was messy. If only they could see him now, see this pathetic sight. His page remained bare, the last video posted almost a year ago now. 

Not that it mattered, he had enough money from the ones he made because instead of turning it into some production he kept the shitty quality of his phone as it seemed enough for the majority. Well, at least he’s never read any complaint about it. 

One more try, that’s what he would do, before either giving up or going for that drawer. His thumb brushed over the tip before he rolled it back. The roughness of his thumb is the perfect contrast to the sensitive skin. He could feel the slick form, a pathetic watery substance that would be no good for a film. With his hand still doing the motion Leon looked to the ceiling with a sigh, something that he did out of boredom didn’t even help him now. Years of abusing the rush of pleasure and his multiple orgasms a night have finally stabbed him in the back. His eyes flicked to the tv, the pictures lighting up the dark room. Never stopping the work on his flaccid cock as he prayed eventually it might spring to life. 

Surely it was unhealthy to be obsessed with a guy like this, to watch the shitty pornhub videos he posted nearly every night like they were some bedtime programme. The cumshots, whimpers and moans all send shockwaves down to your core, the puffy nerve working quickly to ensure you know it's neediness. His face card was lethal, hair falling over his eyes that were lined with a dark look. It was all too tempting…arousing. Every night you found yourself in the same position, legs spread as wide as you could get them as your fingers circled your clit in teasingly slow motions whilst you watched the video on your laptop. Your pussy stuffed with the largest dildo you could find online. Always ensuring that you match the same pace of his actions. He never said anything, his groans were enough for you. The deep raspy tone was engraved in your every thought at this point, you were surprised it hadn’t turned into your inner monologue. 

You watched his dick twitch in his hands, his hips buckling slightly, all signs that you had learnt was him nearing his end. You worked harder, moving the dildo deeper and slower just like his hips were moving. A punishing brutal pace with the soul goal of his own pleasure. The coil tightened, a thread ready to snap as the minutes of the videos counted down. 

How many times have you done it tonight? 

You poor clit abused, white hot pleasure searing through your system as your nerves set on fire. Your thighs clamping around both of your hands as you orgasm. The slick flooding out from between your fingers as your brain settles into the right mode to sleep. The fuzziness lingering like a drug. An addiction. 

You watched with half-closed eyes and short breaths as he showed off the mess he made across the expanse of his abs. Giving off a subtle wink to the camera before it finally stopped. The date of the post made you frown, it was the most recent one…posted almost a year ago. You couldn’t help the thought’s circling about his life now. Wondering if he would ever post again. Maybe he has kids now, a wife, someone to spoil all the money he earned on.

The parasocial relationship you had formed with him was wrong and a stupid thing to cling onto. You were sure to be the only activity on his page anymore; there was definitely no one else was this insane to choose only one pornstar to get off to. Let alone the one who hasn’t posted anything recently. His videos were always more like a home video, shitty quality, barely audible, it really wouldn’t surprise you if he filmed them on a camcorder. 

You weren’t even sure if any other dick would get you off at this point – not that you had anything other than the dildo to use. Though, if you did manage to bring someone home, you suppose you could beg for them to quiet as you closed your eyes to imagine him. The thought caused embarrassment to settle in your stomach, the sex addict he had made you become was shameful at least that's what you had been raised to believe. 

A woman shouldn’t be this in tune and free with her sexual side, it was always wrong according to your parents. Your sexuality was something for a man to explore and take only for himself. It wasn’t for you, it shouldn’t be pleasurable for you. If your friends knew, they would also shame you for this. They didn’t need anymore fuel for how lonely you were, your search history would surely traumatise them. 

Your eyes flicked down to the corner of your laptop, blinking away the tears that lingered in your waterline, to see the time. 30 minutes to get ready before you leave for drinks with your friends. To see the indie rock band that was playing tonight, your friend's boyfriend, the lead singer. You had no idea why that meant you had to go, though the promise of their bar tab convinced you. There was no hope in going home with someone, never was anymore. All the old fucks that lined the seats of that took away the eyecandy you were looking for and if you did find them…well even you knew that you deserved better than some small dick looking for a quicky.  

Your outfit was simple and comfortable. The jeans hugging you perfectly, the top low cut enough to show off the girls that were definitely co-operating tonight for a change. Their perkiness was evident in every step you took towards the bar, holding your arms around yourself to fight off the lingering cold in the air. You wafted through the cloud of second hand smoke, breathing the scent in deeply allowing it to settle in your lungs. Old habits never strayed too far from reach you suppose. 

The music vibrated through the floor, bodies bumping into as you made your way to the stage. Your friend greeted you with a large smile, her eyes sparkling with joy as she glanced back at her boyfriend. Their relationship was sweet, full of honeymoon type of love and appreciation. You envied them, that somehow in this crap world they managed to find a sweet relationship. You weren’t built for that, not when you were here at this moment and all you could think about was returning home and dealing with the pulsing need in your underwear. 

A drink was shoved in your hand, one from her ‘to loosen you up a bit’ apparently. You looked too tense, ridgid for someone that was here to have fun and enjoy the moment. The neat whiskey burned on the way down, settling somewhere deep in your chest. It warmed you, distracted you; both were welcomed in this scenario. “Is everything alright tonight? You’re like a wooden doll” Your friend laughed as she walked you over to the bar. Her grip was at least grounding, stopping the internal fire blazing inside you. “Yeah I’m good, just a rough day” 

“Good job you’re here then” she laughed, handing you another drink. You watched the amber liquid swirl, the condensation running down the sides of glass reminding you too much of him. Of the scenes you have watched over and over again. She waved her hand in front of your face, breaking the trance you had on the droplets. “Are you sure you are okay?” 

How could you tell her that you were itching to return home? To lay in your soft sheets and watch him. Your skin burned – desire running through you constantly. You couldn’t do anything about it, everything reminded you of him. 

“Drink to forget?” You responded, smiling weakly at your friend. Hers only grew a wild look in her eye before calling a round of shots, bringing you into a side hug whilst giggling. It definitely worked. Your body felt lighter, happier. That burning desire now muted until you at least got home. Your hips swaying with hers, smiles and laughter filling the bubble you had formed around yourselves.

It was your turn to collect the next round of drinks, your shoes dragged across the floor, boots scuffing against the things that had fallen out of people's pockets. Barely avoiding people's elbows as you passed them. You attempted to avoid looking at the couples pressed against the walls, their lips locking onto each other in a heated exchange of passion. Thankfully their moans are muted by the volume of the guitar. 

Yet, you froze in place as your eyes fell upon the slumped figure at the bar. You tried blinking away the drunken haze, the one that blurred with the lights of the bar whilst you observed every curve of the muscle he bore, the nose bridge…hands wrapped around the beer bottle. It couldn’t be. No you weren’t that unlucky and lucky at the same time. Not when you were finally forgetting about him tonight, about the fantasies and daydreams over what he would be like. 

His head lifted as his eyes scanned over the pool of people dancing, the flashing lights blurring their movements. Except for yours because you were still stationary like an idiot, looking right at him. He observed your form as you finally finished the journey to the bar and ordered a large cocktail topped with ice and a glazed cherry. Leon's eyes ran over your chest as you leant against the bar. Your chest was moving slowly and deeply like you were trying to calm yourself. Your nails are scratching at the rings of alcohol that were left on it that your focus now remained on. He couldn’t approach you like he would have in the past, the obvious age gap didn’t bother him. Your youthful skin would feel heavenly under his calloused fingertips. No, the lack of the twitch in his trousers as he perved on you was a reminder that after his failed attempt earlier to get this shit to work before he gave up and dragged himself here. At least the band playing tonight was actually decent. For once.

He never looked away, not once. Not even as people filtered in front of his line of sight. Everytime you allowed your eyes to drift over to him, he was still watching; taking slow sips of the beer he was nursing. The temperature of the drink cooled your skin as you took it from the bartender, savouring the liquid encouragement as you sipped on it. The cherry cola cocktail settled better than the whiskey you had drank earlier. It was dangerous mixing your drinks, each drink adding to the tipsy haze you bore. The cherry was sweet as you slipped it into your mouth. The vodka infused with it makes you smile. 

Leon couldn’t pull his eyes away if he wanted to, not as you drank. Your neck looked perfect as you extended it whilst lifting the glass, your lips curving into a smile as you chewed on the alcoholic cherry. He licked his lips as he watched, almost trying to imagine which part of your neck would be the most sensitive spot to suck one. Which spot would force you to sing perfectly to him? Would it taste like sweat and perfume as he kissed your neck? Or remain flavorless like all the girls he was with before. 

You smiled when your eyes finally met again, a big toothy grin that proudly displayed the cherry stem from between your lips. 

Perfectly tied. 

It was only then he felt the throb, the one he's craved to feel for over a year. His cock quickly worked its way to a semi as he watched you saunter over. Your perfume filled his senses as you slid into the chair next to him. His suspicions on what you would taste like as it smelled expensive. Moving to sit with him was a bold move on your behalf but with the liquid encouragement flowing through your system you just decided to run with it. If this worked, you would be a fool to waste this chance. You simply place the stem on the bar in front of him, now glaringly obvious you were skilled with your tongue. 

“Where did you learn how to do that?” He chuckled. His blue eyes now bore that dark look underneath the strands of hair that fell over his face. Leon leaned back in the stool, his chest turned towards you. The shirt was tight, straining against him as he moved showcasing everything you knew lies beneath. “Research, thought it would be a useful skill to learn” You teased, your body subconsciously leaning towards him. His deep musk hit your senses, the linger smell of the beer in the air he exhaled. It was intoxicating, just as you imagined it would be. 

“You always do this?” He asked again, the green bottle putting some distance between the two of you as he sipped on it again. The condensation ran over his fingers as he raised it. Leon smirked against the rim of the bottle as he watched your eyes flick over his hand. “Only with guys that eye fuck me across the bar” You retorted, blinking slightly as you looked back towards his eyes. He hummed deeply, considering his next actions which were largely influenced by the throb of his cock. “How often does that happen?” 

“Calling me pretty?” 

Leon chuckled, finally leaning forward into your space. His hand landed on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “I’d be lying if I said you weren’t” 

You scanned his face, breath faltering at his closeness. Everything faded to the background, you forgot where you were, why you were here. All gone as you savoured the addiction of his smell, the curve of his features now they were close enough. You wanted to whimper his name, kiss his lips until they puffed up more. Leon smiled as your tongue darted out between your lips, licking them slightly. Your saliva creates the perfect gloss across them, making them even more tempting. 

As soon as your lips met you melted. Your hands found the inner curve of his thigh as you moved closer, leaning into him for support. The passion was addictive as the kiss grew heated, his touch set you on fire as his hand cupped your jaw possessively. When he finally pulled away, he laughed as you chased after him. “Your place or mine?” 

“Yours” 

His hand was larger than yours as he pulled you along with him out of the bar. The cloud of smoke greeted you again, settling deeply in your system as you both waited for the cab. His lips were upon you again, chasing the growing erection in his trousers. The one that was now becoming painfully hard, not that he would argue. He grinned into your lips, held you closer letting you feel it against your stomach. Feel the want, need, hunger he had for you. 

The cab ride continued the heated exchange and wandering hands as he cupped your body, fingers rubbing over your peaked nipples through the fabric of your shirt. You almost felt bad for the driver…almost. Never would you have expected him to be so needy. To seem like he wanted this just as much as you. Not with his extensive collection of media anyway, surely you were just another fuck and you should be pawning over him more than he was over you. 

The door slammed shut behind the two of you, both immediately toeing off your shoes without breaking the kiss. He leads you further inside, his hands stripping clothes like a trail. Leading all the way to the infamous room, the bed with sheets that smelled like him. That collected everything he proudly showed off in his media. He was painfully hard now, his cock tenting obviously in his underwear as he pushed you on the edge of the bed. 

Leon’s cheeks were flushed, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. The black lace that decorated your body, hiding the things he wanted to taste and feel the most from view. You were magic, a drug to him. Lust finally only filled his senses as his cock twitched against the fabric. No longer was it pathetic and weak like earlier. Fuck he felt great, alive again…

You removed your bra, displaying the perfect peaks to him as you stretched your arms above your chest. He licked his lips, watching them bounce with your movements. Grinning as you laid back against the bed, lifting your hips to remove the underwear that covered your sex. Proudly displaying the weeping mess to him, as a juicy dessert for him to devour if he pleased. 

The whine that left your lips was embarrassing as he pulled his boxers down. You were greeted with a live viewing of his leaking tip, the substance no longer that pathetic watery mess he produced recently. You finally got him working again. You moved up the bed as he hovered over you, smiling as you were surrounded by every sense of him. The giddiness of your dreams peaking through. As he began to rub his cock through the wetness of your folds you couldn’t help but moan. The syllables of his name were drawn out as he teased your clit with his tip. 

But he hadn’t told you his name. 

His hands grasped your cheeks tightly, bringing your eyes back to him with a widened stare. “What did you say?” He demanded. You looked up at him dumbfounded, your brain scrambling for an excuse that would stop the flood of embarrassment. “How do you know my name?” He continued, his grip loosening as he stared down at you. His cock twitching at your entrance. It was all too arousing. 

“Y-your videos…” You sputtered out, hips pathetically lifting from the bed to continue the feeling of his movements earlier. Your stomach tightening as a sly grin began to form on his face. “What a little whore I’ve found…a fan of mine hm? Wanted to get a feel of this?” 

He emphasised the question by notching his tip at your entrance, feeling the tight hole clench and twitch around it. “Y-yes” You admitted, eyes never leaving him. Leon pulled back, his thighs moving underneath yours as he reached over for his phone. Left abandoned on the side earlier in the night. It didn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. The extensive list of his filmography highlighting your features as he turned the device towards you. “Which ones are your favourite then, sweetheart?” He chuckled. 

The question was a hard one to answer if it had been asked by anyone in general, but now he was asking it? You felt the pressure, the shame of having to admit which one you touched yourself to the most, the one that made you the wettest. “This one” You whispered, clicking on it. Only to then be met with the shlick sounds of him rubbing himself. The tip appeared and disappeared between his fists in a rapid motion, unlike the speed he was now teasing you with. “You liked watching me get myself off, pumping this hard throbbing cock towards the camera?” 

You responded with a nod, hiding your features in the bedding beside you. No he wouldn’t let you do that. Not when his cock was practically screaming to be sheathed inside your warmth. To feel your perfectly aroused pussy throb around him. He stopped his movements, the sound of the video barely audible over your panting. 

Leon gripped at your face again, guiding you to look at him. “Such a dirty girl you are” He teased as he finally pressed himself into you. His own noises became pathetic whimpers as he finally felt himself be surrounded by his addiction, finally giving into the craving after his body forced him to go cold turkey from. He didn’t need the meds that still lied in the drawer next to you, not when your perky breasts moved against his chest. The nipples peaked and sensitive as the movements forced moans out of you. His name was heaven on your lips, the perfect melody. 

You didn’t notice that Leon had now leaned back again, not when he was assaulting you with the perfect amount of pleasure. His hips moving in a slow grind, hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. There was no point holding back your moans, not when you felt his cock throb inside you at every one. You felt the puffy vein you always wanted to trace with your tongue running along inside you, his cock barely existing before he drove it back.Then you heard the beep of his phone camera recording and his deep chuckle. 

“What a lucky fan you are” he spoke, the camera aimed at the action of him entering and leaving. 

“Be a good girl and hold this steady, yeah?” He instructed, angling the camera in your hands for the perfect view of him drilling into you. The change of pace was intense with how sudden it was, the rhythm soon becoming the perfect thing you needed as the coil quickly tightened up. However, Leon wasn’t aiming for your release, only his own. You began to move against him, squirming away as you lingered on the edge of overstimulation. 

“Hold it steady now” 

Leon groaned at your whine, at each clench you lovingly offered him. His hand held yours, angling the camera back at the money shot where his cock drove into you. Removing his cock only once to circle your clit with the tip. Finally now angry and red again for the camera, weeping his pre all over your untouched skin. He was making a mess of you, a glorious one. The pleasure was perfect as he chased his own. His hips moved faster and faster until they became a bruising pace.

He looked perfectly like this, hovering about you. It was everything you ever imagined and thought of during the day. His eyes remained screwed shut as he took in what he craved. “Fucking perfect” he grunted. He never spoke in his videos, only producing his grunts and moans. This was a first…a first for a lot of things. 

The most important one being his first orgasm in a year. He never released he needed a younger pussy, a perfectly neat one for him to abuse and ruin with the size of him. To mould it for only him and no one else. He sucked against your skin, nipping at your breasts, releasing them with a loud pop. “Fucking hell…” 

You felt his hips buck harshly, a groan leaving his lips…the signs of his release. You moaned his name again as his finger toyed with your clit. The muscles of your tights twitching as you finally orgasmed with a desperate whine. You felt like you were on cloud nine, with the added tipsiness of the bar earlier. Leon continued to assault you through it, the fuzziness of the evening blending together as all his blood rushed south. He pulled out of you, aiming his cock towards the phone and was still angled at the action. With a few harsh pumps, his load came spurting out coating your body in his translucent substance. 

Your chests heaved as you stared at each other with lust blown eyes. The post orgasm status settling in. Regret from either of you nowhere to be found, only the neediness and desire for another round. 

It wasn’t until a few days later you got the text from him. Opting to not contact him first in fear of looking even more like a crazed fan. Despite the fact he wanted to keep in contact. You must have been a pretty good fuck then. The thought offered a light ego boost for a few days at least. To Leon you were perfect, his cock constantly throbbing to life now he had the crappy video on his phone but he wasn’t selfish. It was only fair that you got to see your side of the action, to witness the pornographic moment of that night. Which you helped create. 

‘Did you see the video?’ 

Confused, you checked his page, waiting for the small circle to stop spinning in the corner of your laptop. The title made you blush, the throbbing need that had been satiated for the past few days rushing back quickly. 

SHY FREAK GETS FUCKED BY HER IDOL 

[altruistic-meme]

i love my sister but i am going to start destroying shit soon

[snoevergarden]

Imagine Caleb returning after almost a year and seeing you from across the street. He's in his colonel uniform, sunglasses on. But he doesn't look your way.

Overwhelmed with mixed feelings of both joy and anxiety, you run up to him and grab his hands. “Caleb..is that really you?.” He looks at you, takes off his glasses. It is him.

“Caleb! Where have y-” “You're mistaken.” he pulls back his hand from you, harshly. “Such a bother,” he mumbles to himself and walks away, not looking back at you.

Your whole world crumbled. You just stood there, watching his back disappear from you once again as it did a year ago.

The doorbell rings back in your apartment. Life has been so hard for you lately. Who could it be at this hour?

The door opened and the last person you expected to see was there. Caleb, still in his uniform. His eyes soft just like your old Caleb. That stern expression gone.

“It's me I'm..” “Why are you here?” Heat rose up in your cheeks, hot tears formed making your vision blurry. “Please, I can expl-”

A cry could be heard from the corner of the apartment. You ran from there, leaving the door open and Caleb standing. He followed a little behind you, tension filling him.

A little peak in the room and all the color from his face drained. “Shh it's alright. Mama's here,” you cooed rocking the baby.

Caleb's breath became heavy. His hands shaking. The baby's eyes, similar to his purple ones. Hair as dark as his.

“We..” His eyes went from the baby to you. “You were pregnant?.”

Silence filled up the room. Only the cooing from your baby could be heard.

“You should leave.” You looked away from him, holding your baby tightly. “But-” “Caleb please.” For the first time he looked into your eyes. Pain and anger filled them.

He knew you were hurt from the encounter earlier, but he did it to protect you.

But you had a baby? His baby? All alone. You must've gone through so much. When did you know? Why didn't you tell him? Did you come to know after he...left?

No wonder you looked so worn out, so tired. But even then, you were the most beautiful to him. He was finally home, to you. To the child he had with you.

But are you willing to forgive him? To give him one more chance to show you how much you mean to him and that he will never leave you again.

Ever.

Pt 2

A lot of Caleb angst drabbles in my mind lately. Excuse the writing if it's sort of out of place, not proofread.