#Cw fem reader

[catcze]

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !! — Sylus. got insanely horny & needy earlier and typed this up in a haze. no editing just wanting him to kiss with his cum still dripping out of me ₊˚⊹♡

Sylus is the kind of man who peppers your face in kisses while his weight crushes you to the bed, your mixed cum still leaking where his softening cock plugs you up. He’s the kind of man who, boneless and pliant from how hard he came, is driven by only one urge now— to make sure you know how much he loves you.

You’re coming down from how intense and passionate Sylus gets during your lovemaking when he begins to leave kisses wherever he can reach. The press of his lips on your face are soft and fleeting like a flurry of butterflies, but each one carries his devotion— his adoration. With how tightly his chest is pressed against yours, you can feel how his heart races and skips when you giggle, jokingly trying to push his lips away from your face. You can even feel how his cock twitches when you smile at him.

“You’re so clingy,” you say, voice hoarse from the sounds he had dragged out from you. A hand gently caresses his cheek, your thumb pressing into the plush of his lips and stroking them fondly. And Sylus, in turn, sighs like your touch is pure bliss —eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles into your hand— and presses a kiss to the base of your palm.

“Can you blame me?” Comes his low murmur, “Making love to you brings me euphoria that I can never hope to replicate.”

You just fondly shake your head, the apples of your cheeks warming from the soft, tender look he levels you with. When his eyes meet yours, there is nothing in there but a love so deep that you fear you could drown in it.

“I love you,” Sylus says a moment later, cheek still pressed against yours hand, humming softly when he feels you tiredly clench around him. He kisses your hand again.

And oh, the effect he has on your heart is illegal. Sylus is so tender and vulnerable in your palms —nothing like the feared fiend from ancient legend, nothing like the terrifying boss of Onychynus. Here, heris just a man, softened by love and kisses. Rough, calloused palms are now so painstakingly gentle when they trail up your body in reverence, caressing you like you are one of his most valuable treasures.

“I love you too,” is all you can bear to say, the words just the tip of the iceberg of how deeply you return his affections. And like he knows what you really mean, Sylus smiles against the cradle of your palm and pulls you into a tender, sweet kiss that blurs the rest of the world.

[cyxnidx]

MY ADDICTION !

character: sukuna x curvy!black reader

genre: a little bit of everything - some headcanons + scenarios of a teensy bit of fluff, brainrot, & some smut

a/n: decided to start makin' some black fics.

sukuna, who absolutely adores you, he might not show it, but he does. wholeheartedly.

sukuna, who often has his own way of showing you his affection.

you feel a pluck on the top of your head, looking over and seeing sukuna looking down at you, a smile on his face despite being met with confusion. "why?" "why not."

sukuna, who adores your earthy style with your coconut and vanilla scents.

sukuna watches as you finish rubbing lotion into your arms, smiling when you walk past him for your gel and he gets hit by a fresh coconut and vanilla scent. "you smell delicious." he compliments, watching as you sit in your chair in front of your vanity. still focused on your edges, you let a small smirk appear. "thank you." he hums before responding, letting his chin rest on his palm. "do you taste the same, too?" and with that, your smirk grows. "come find out."

sukuna, who finds the most peace with his hands against your hips and his face stuffed into the side of your neck.

"what the fuck." you say with a sigh. you've been in the kitchen with your boyfriends head in the crook of your neck, his hands rubbing soft circles into your waist while you cook. except, the foods done - and sukuna has yet to move. "what is it?" he asks as he feigns innocence. you look at him when he raises his face to look at you. "do you wanna eat or not nigga?" after your words register in his mind, a knowing smirk crosses his face.

whether that be while he's hugging you, or hitting it from the back.

"where all that attitude go? hmm?" sukuna questions behind you, face still buried in the crook of your neck, except the sensation of him massaging shapes into your waist was replaced with his cock pounding into your cunt from your mouth. "had all that mouth .. where it go, huh?" he prompts again, thrusts getting sloppier.

sukuna, who doesn't mind spending a couple hundred to help you keep your hair under control.

"go ahead, princess." sukuna says, twisting a curl of your hair around his finger after handing you $500. he leans down, mouth right by your ear. "go get somethin' pretty done so i can fuck it up again."

sukuna, who loves to see you dressed in white, and the way the color radiates off your skin almost perfectly.

sukuna, who can't ever get over your cooking.

"eating good, ain't you baby?" you ask sweetly, watching sukuna scarf down a thanksgiving meal you'd made for the holiday. the sight of him eating, as if it were his very last or very first meal, put a smile on your face. finishing his plate, he placed his utensils down, a toothy grin painting his face. "best i've ever had mamas."

sukuna, who loves watching you do your hair while it's out, watching mindlessly while you style your curls & lay your edges with precision.

sukuna, who loves your occasional attitude every once in a while.

"oh, and what's the matter?" sukuna asks, watching you roll your eyes once again. "you actin' like you don't got no sense 'bout what i'm saying sukuna." you say, damn near starting to yell at the man in front of you. though, he had a knowing smirk on his face. not because he found this amusing, but because you're the only person with enough guts to so much as breathe near him with any attitude.

sukuna, who commonly calls you an addiction, simply because once he got a hit?.. he couldn't help but want more.

[splishfish]

Thinking about…

~~~

Boyfriend!Toji Who loves keeping your legs in the air when he fucks you, adoring the way your toes spread and curl with each thrust. His hands grope and squish your thighs and calves smirking down at you as he kisses the skin whenever his hips roll into yours.

Boyfriend!Toji Who’s so deep inside you he can see the way your belly slightly distends when he pushes all the way in, his cock throbbing when he realizes he’s causing that bump in your belly.

Boyfriend!Toji Who loves it when you have a bush, it makes your sex life so much more raw and real, in his humble opinion. Maybe he’s weird, but he loves to sit deep inside you and grind your pubes together, his balls tightening against your ass as he cums deep into your welcoming womb.

Boyfriend!Toji Who doesn’t fuck you immediately, but rather slides his cock in and out with a wet squelch, watching the way your hole desperately tries to suck him back in, only to gape and clench around nothing. Oh, and did he mention he fucking loves the sloppy little sounds your cunt makes with each exit? Yeah, maybe he spends too much time teasing you than actually fucking you.

Boyfriend!Toji Chuckles whenever you cum, your face contorting into the cutest little thing, your toes curling and legs shaking, oh, he thinks it’s down right adorable. 

Boyfriend!Toji Who actually prefers slow sensual sex rather than fast and hard fucking. He wants to feel every bump inside you, wants to feel every clench and squeeze when he hits that squishy spot inside you just right…and it’s totally not because his stamina is slowly declining. Totally.

Boyfriend!Toji Who isn’t really into giving oral, but doesn’t mind eating you out occasionally. His mouth is so sloppy and lazy, tongue drawing rough circles around your clit while green eyes peer up at you with a heavy gaze. When he inevitably gets tired of that, he just locks his entire mouth around your labia, sucking harshly as if he was trying to drink all the juice out of you.

Boyfriend!Toji Who’s so thick, it takes a little over an hour to prep you. Extra lube constantly drizzled onto your pussy as his fingers curl and fuck deeper into your cunny, slowly adding a second and a third one to stretch your internal muscles. And even after, he spends a few minutes just fucking you on different sized dildos, making you cum maybe 3 or 4 times before finally slipping his cock inside.

Boyfriend!Toji Who’s determined to make you squirt even though you’ve never been able to. He does everything. Finger fucking you for hours until your crying and crawling away from him, fucking you dumb on his cock until you pass out, and even making you drink 3 bottles of water before sex…only for you to accidentally release your bladder halfway through your second orgasm.

Boyfriend!Toji Who finds out he has a piss kink, that same night.

~~~

A/N: it's 1 am and im horny. i will regret this in the morning

[gossamyrrh]

noncon recording, fem!reader.

no thoughts, just grimy fling!toji fucking you on your back, meaty limbs caging your own, breaths heavy and warm against your heated, sensitive flesh as he wildly ruts into you—

and he thinks, fuck, it can’t get much better than this. until it does, somehow, and you’re throwing your head back with a moan, spongy walls clenching around him, clamping down as you shudder beneath his bulk and force him deeper inside your poor, weeping cunt.

grimy fling!toji feels pleasure humming behind his eyes—in his toes. he’s pulling air harshly through his nostrils, grip slackening as he rides out a wave before it crests and he starts grinding shallowly again, heavy pants slipping past his lips as he focuses on that telltale twinge in the pit of his belly.

(and pointedly ignores the itch in the back of his head, the one that tells him to cross boundaries: to take and take and take—)

“ah, toji,” you moan. “fuck me harder, please, need you—aah, nngh—!! fuuuck, don’t stop—s-shit... i want more of you, wanna take everythin-nghh...”

but all his inhibitions go out the window as he decides you’re the best lay he’s had in a long time. probably ever. and well, toji wants to cherish the moment—savour it. and he decides he won’t let such a precious thing slip past his fingers—not without something to remember you by.

so, grimy as he is, he shimmies his phone from his pocket (an old, beat up thing that can only make calls and texts. record, too!) and turns it on with eager, trembling fingers.

he keeps you distracted with his lips in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he clicks the camera icon and you pop up on screen: writhing, sweating and mewling. his cock hilted deep inside of you.

it’s entirely debauched, he knows that. for him, that was the thrill of this sort of thing—that forbidden nature; the danger and taboo. oh, how it fucking turned him on…

he moans deeply against your skin as your sopping, wet cunt fills the screen, echoes throughout the room. he can feel that familiar pleasure coiling tight and hard between his hips, rendering his rhythm erratic—so deliciously haphazard—with its quick jerks and throbs—your bodies practically becoming one in tandem.

(and he makes sure to capture this: the union of your bodies. the way the dark, curly hairs at the base of his cock mingle with your own—meshed together by proximity. and fuck, he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. second to you.)

as he feels you quiver beneath him, he takes the moment to watch your face contort with pleasure: eyebrows lacing together, nose wrinkling, plush mouth parting in a moan so ungodly in its desperation.

he lifts the camera to your face. (you’re far too blissed out to notice, face scrunched tight.)

and when you cum—his cock still inside your pliant and wet heat—your walls clench like a vice. you pull him further with your insistent drags, coaxing his orgasm to spill from within him in a long, shuddering sigh. your hands running over his meaty thighs until they curl in his hair and pull.

pleasure ebbs over his skin like a flush. starting from his face and dipping down past his jaw, neck and chest.

the roll of his hips stutters, and he groans as the coil unravels, as he pulls out and releases a thick, syrupy white load on your tummy, and he captures all the facets of your expression with a weak click: the arch in your back, your jaw locked open in a soundless scream, eyelids fluttering weakly as your hips buck helplessly.

grimy fling!toji goes home afterwards and jerks off to all (and i mean aaaalll) of the videos and pics, thick fingers smeared in cum and spittle and sweat as his voice drops to a ragged whimper as he cums for the umpteenth time, eyes burning and palm numb.

and of course, grimy fling!toji is showing his friend shiu the next day, prattling on and on about the chick with the heavenly pussy that he desperately wants to fuck again ;(

[bunnis-monsters]

A bunny breeding his pup

Commissioned by @dumbdoggygirl

Bunny Hybrid x Puppy Hybrid!Reader

warnings: breeding, knotting, pregnancy sex, pheromones, lactation, cervix kiss

summary: Bunny hybrid Momo stands up to a wolf hybrid and walks you home. The two of you become friends then start dating, but when you go into heat you’re afraid he might not be able to keep up with your puppy hybrid stamina. Little did you know, the saying “breeding like rabbits” was very accurate…

Word count: 5k words

You have had trouble trusting people lately. Male hybrids only wanted one thing, and that was mating.

The thought was always in the back of your mind when you went out into town or wandered back home a bit too late at night. If you didn’t keep yourself safe, no one would.

This was all before you met him.

It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to pick up something sweet before going home to your little cottage in the woods. It was always a bit scary coming home from work, especially when the moon wasn’t able to guide your way due to the fluffy clouds blocking it.

You were planning on plopping down on your soft, warm bed and passing out as soon as you walked in your door… but fate had something else in mind.

“Hey, pretty girl!”

An annoyed sigh left your lips as you turned to look to your left. There was a wolf hybrid approaching, his shoulders relaxed and his stride confident.

“You look like you’d appreciate someone walking you home. There’s a lotta bad guys out here, you know?”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder roughly, causing you to stumble forward before you steadied yourself.

You, politely as you could manage, pushed his arm off of your shoulder, trying to give him a smile. “Ahh, I’m okay, but thanks.”

When he kept following you, your heart began to race. You could feel his eyes on you, and knew he saw you as something to prey on, a slab of meat to a hungry predator.

“Come on, pup. You’re gonna turn down a nice guy trying to help you out. Don’t be a bitch…”

He attempted to reach for your wrist, but you wrenched it away. “I said I’m okay… please, just leave me alone…”

This only seemed to anger him, the wolf puffing out his chest as his ears pinned back. A low growl could be heard as he advanced on you.

“Leave you alone? I-“

Before he could speak any further, a figure rushed between the two of you, standing with his back to the wolf.

“Hey, sweetheart. I saw that you weren’t home yet and came to meet you halfway. All our friends are waiting for us, I said we’d be back in five minutes.”

The person in front of you was a bunny hybrid with soft, curly hair and fluffy bunny ears atop his head. He gave you a sweet smile as if he had known you his entire life and looped his arm with yours.

“Ahh, do you know this man?” the bunny hybrid asked, his eyes cutting to the wolf hybrid, his yellow orbs losing all the warmth they had when he looked at you.

The wolf spluttered, holding up his hands, obviously turned off when he heard there were people looking for you. “W-was just gonna walk her home. Never mind…”

The bunny hybrid stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving the wolf as he scurried away.

“Damn wolf hybrids think that they can scare people like that, but the second they know they could be caught they run off!”

The bunny’s foot thumped against the ground rapidly, indicating he was pissed at the situation. You smiled, reaching out to tug on his sleeve.

“Thank you for that. Most hybrids would be too scared to stand up to a wolf like you did.”

He turned back to look at you, a smile stretching across his face. When you really looked at him, your first thought was that he looked… really cute.

“No problem. Are you alright?”

His cotton tail twitched as your puppy tail perked up. “Yes, I’m okay. Just…”

You winced, and he noticed your wrist that had been grabbed was a bit swollen.

“Ahh, that asshole… if you put some ice on it when you get home, that should help with the swelling and hopefully prevent a bruise from forming.”

The bunny tilted his head as your ears lowered, your tail wagging a bit. “Can I… ask your name?”

His ears flicked as he nodded rapidly. “Yes, I’m Momo. And you?”

You smiled, offering a hand. “I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

Momo ended up walking you home, making sure that he kept you safe from anything that dared to come close. For a bunny hybrid, he was quite tough.

And as far as males went, he was the sweetest thing you’d ever encountered. To no one’s surprise, you were quick to exchange numbers with him.

The two of you became friends rather quickly. It wasn’t until long that you found out Momo was single, just like you. He was so soft and sweet, and every morning you received a text asking how you were doing and if he could come over when you weren’t busy.

It made your heart beat faster, a fuzzy feeling taking over your body that made your tail wag uncontrollably…

Was this… what having a crush was like?

You met up with him one afternoon, wearing your favorite dress, one he had said made your eyes sparkle. Momo always knew how to make you feel shy and flattered.

“Hey, pretty pup!”

You turned at the sound of his voice, your tail wagging as soon as you caught a whiff of his scent. His own cotton tail twitched, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hi, Momo. What did you want to talk about?”

The bunny had called you a few hours ago, asking for a last minute meeting at a cafe. This was strange to you, he usually asked to come to your home or his to spend time together. You had only known him for a few months now, but you felt like you knew him enough to tell something was different about this.

Momo scratched the back of his head, his fluffy bunny ears twitching. “Well… I thought a public place would be better for the question I want to ask.”

Your curiosity was piqued, and it was obvious by the way your tail picked up speed that you were excited. “Well come on, let’s order some coffee and talk!”

After settling into a booth and some small talk, Momo suddenly became very serious, looking at you fondly.

“I’ve… really enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you found yourself fidgeting with your skirt. “I have too. It’s really been the best part of my day when you call me.”

His bunny ears twitched, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

“Will… you be my girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened with surprise, your heart thundering inside of your chest as your tail wagged furiously behind you. It was obvious how you felt just by the way your tail thumped against the booth behind you.

“Y-yes!”

The two of you shared bashful smiles, and he nuzzled his nose against yours. The rest of the date was filled with giddy giggles and yummy snacks, and by the end he was ready to take you home.

For the next few months, the two of you fell in love, unable to stay apart from each other for long. He visited you often, his soft bunny ears making him easy to spot in crowds when meeting up together.

It didn’t take long for you two to kiss for the first time. It was on your third date, and seeing his cute cotton tail twitch when your lips met was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

The first bit of intimacy the two of you shared was while the two of you watched a movie together at your apartment. It was a sappy romcom, and he was feeling a bit bored… so his hand trailed down your thigh, playing with the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Mmm, you keep watching the movie, princess…”

Your puppy tail wagged a bit as he moved to kneel in front of you, his soft nose nuzzling against your thigh. He looked up at you for permission, his teeth nibbling on your soft flesh.

This was the first time a male had ever been so close to you, but you nodded, trying to pay attention to the movie while he kissed your pussy through your panties.

It wasn’t long before you were soaking through the thin fabric, unable to concentrate on the movie anymore. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your slick and sucking on your clit through your panties was too loud, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“P-Please, Momo… more, I need it…”

He tilted his head, looking up at you through his soft lashes. “More..? Okay, puppy…”

Momo pushed your panties to the side, giving your bare pussy a sniff before burying his face between your thighs.

You let out a muffled moan, covering your mouth as he latched onto your clit, sucking and keeping your thighs apart so he could taste your sweet juices.

The way he looked up at you with those sweet golden, yellow eyes of his with such lust and adoration had you cumming within seconds.

He stayed between your head like that for at least 30 minutes, bringing you to orgasm several times before you were too blissed out to even think.

Momo smiled, his cotton tail wagging as he crawled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over the two of you and pulling you to his chest.

“Goodnight, puppy…”

——————————

You felt embarrassed, almost… shy. Your heat cycle was coming, and you had a date with Momo. It was going to be your 6 month anniversary, and you really didn’t want to miss it!

But…

Although Momo had saved you and was so sweet to you, there was always a voice in the back of your head saying he would never be able to handle your heat. He was just a bunny hybrid, and you were a puppy.

It made you sad, really… would you have to break up with him one day and be with someone with a similar heat cycle to you? Maybe a wolf or puppy hybrid…

As the date approached, you told yourself that you would just go… but when it was finally time to get dressed, your heat hit you like a tsunami.

You writhed on the bed, fingers doing nothing to ease the ache in your cunt. It took everything you had to text Momo that you couldn’t come. You didn’t bother to read his reply, just turning onto your belly, lifting your hips to try and shove your fingers deeper inside.

It felt like you could just burn alive, a pit in the bottom of your belly forming. It had never been so intense before, all you wanted to do was scream! Maybe your body was reacting to Momo’s scent. It was all over your apartment after all, and you buried your face into a hoodie he left behind, whimpering in absolute agony.

Your heats had never been easy, but in the past at least you had been able to deal with them without too much struggle. Now it felt impossible, you couldn’t even orgasm by yourself!

As you began to cry into his hoodie, you thought you could almost hear his voice. Your mind was a bit hazy from your heat… but it felt comforting.

You wish you would have just asked him to come over… now you were too weak to do anything besides sniffle and cry into his hoodie.

“Puppy!”

The sound of Momo’s voice became much clearer. Your puppy ear twitched, and you picked up his scent in the air. That wasn’t just some of his lingering musk…

“Puppy, I’m here! Please, let me in. I n-need you!”

You could only whimper, blabbering out a reply through your tears. “C-can’t! Can’t get up!”

It was silent for a moment, but then there was a loud BANG!

You looked on in shock to see the door beginning to splinter. Momo was breaking it down!

Momo wasn’t weak, but you had never thought he was capable of such feats of strength! Even the wolf hybrids you met in college wouldn’t be able to do that…

He kicked through, his leg breaking through the wood. He used the hole to reach his hand in and unlock the door. As soon as Momo was in, his eyes scanned the room for you.

“Baby…”

He walked over, dropping down to his knees by your bedside. His eyes scanned over your form, and you noticed how hazy those golden orbs of his were as he sniffed the air.

“You’re in heat… why didn’t you tell me?”

You struggled to speak, your pussy clenching around nothing as he stared down at you. The way he was looking at you… was he..?

“I w-was… embarrassed… and I didn’t want you to know. You’ve probably never been with a puppy hybrid before, you don’t understand how intense our heats are…”

You had heard tales from friends and family about how smaller hybrids would try and take on canines, seeing it as a challenge. They assumed they could take it, and would come out with good offspring because of the strong wombs of their mates.

But most failed to properly satisfy their mates, ending in unhappy partnerships and tears. You had been hoping to marry Momo, but you were afraid he may also be chasing some tail…

He was kind, you really liked him… but could he handle you like this? You were so desperate, you wanted to pounce and use him until his body broke! It was scary… you were losing the little control you had over your body!

Before you could speak again, you helped, feeling him pin you down with strength you would have never expected from such a small hybrid. He leaned over you, his face flushed but his eyes sharp.

“Oh, my sweet pup…”

He cooed, his pants stretching painfully over his aching cock. Precum leaked down his leg, his red cock barely contained by his pants.

“You’ve never been with a bunny hybrid, have you?”

Your eyes widened, and you were silenced when his mouth landed on yours. It was an instant connection, your tail wagging furiously as his tongue tangled around yours.

Though your cunt pulsed and ached with need and lust, your heart was soaring with love. His lips on yours always made you happy, but now you could almost feel his love and desire from you just from this kiss alone.

“Y-you’re… in rut?”

You gasped this out when he broke away, finally able to pick up his scent over your own heavy pheromones. Momo smiled, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “Yes… I am. I was hoping to spend it with you… if that’s alright.”

Your ears lowered and you tucked your puppy tail between your legs, considering his suggestion. Part of you wanted to say no, fearful that you may hurt him. You loved Momo after all, and would rather have an agonizingly painful heat cycle than lose him.

But the other part of you needed him. You could already feel his clothed cock rubbing against your fat cunt, begging to breed and mate with you. Your heat riddled mind was begging for you to say yes and mate, to be filled with cum and covered in his marks!

“Please…”

You looked up at him with hazy, teary eyes, playing with your own pussy to try and ease the searing heat in your loins. The only thing on your mind now was being bred by your lover and your belly swelling with his young. It’s all you could ever want or need.

Momo panted, his bunny ears twitching as he tugged his pants down, his fat red cock resting on your belly. He was much bigger than you expected, and your pussy yet again clenched around nothing while you imagined him inside of you.

“Gonna be inside my puppy…”

He prodded at your cunt, rubbing his precum and your slick together before pressing in. Momo hissed at how tight you were, his soft pink nose twitching as your sweet, warm pussy envelopes around him.

It was like heaven, being inside of you. Nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss of mounting his pretty little puppy and taking your for his own.

Without much thought, be bit down on your neck and shoulders, his hips rutting into yours. You were so wet, so needy for him that he started thrusting right away. The sounds that came from your love making was lewd, loud squelching and moans filling the air.

Before long you were cumming, your cunt squeezing and milking his cock, but even as he filled you up with his seed, he didn’t stop.

After a few rounds you began to get tired, happy that he was able to last…

But Momo was far from finished.

You whined softly as he lifted your leg, continuing to fuck into your fat, warm cunt as his fingers played with your clit. Your neck was covered in hickeys, your chubby tummy protruding with his cum…

“M-Momo…”

You whimpered, your pussy swollen from abuse, but your lover only kissed along your neck, placing you on your tummy before climbing back up to mount you.

“Shh, puppy… not even close to being done…”

You yelped as he held onto your arms for leverage, his cock kissing your cervix as he fucked you deep. Your own fingers could never reach that far, and you knew Momo was trying to get you pregnant!

The only thing on his mind right now was his vision of you in a few months. You’d be waddling around, your breasts heavy with milk and belly swollen with his babies. Even since he laid eyes on you, he knew that he would be the one to breed you, to lay claim to your womb. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone in the world knew this fact.

He grabbed your tail, holding onto it as he knotted your sweet, warm pussy. You were just too cute, crying and overstimulated. Momo couldn’t wait to make you cum so much you couldn’t even think anymore!

Even after his knot swelled up inside of you, his hips continued to stutter and plap against your fat ass. He just couldn’t help it, you felt too good and he wanted to fuck you on his knot!

Your body felt so warm and exhausted, you could barely manage to lift your fluffy tail to give him access to your abused cunt so he could continue to pump you full of his cum.

Momo was too far into his rut to notice your exhaustion. His body was reacting to your pheromones and he was driven by pure instinct to knock you up.

He bit down on your neck, holding onto your hips as his knot deflated. The second he was able to properly fuck you again, Momo slammed his cock into you, kissing your cervix.

The night of mating was filled with tears, whines, and so, so much cum. You had never as tired as you were the next morning, your body covered in love bites and stuffed full of cum.

Momo was already awake, his cotton tail wagging as he played with your soft puppy ears. “Good morning, princess…”

He looked down at you, his cheeks pink and his eyes darting from your face to the side then back to you. With the way he had fucked you until you saw stars and cried, he was a bit embarrassed with how fat he had gone.

The bunny could remember knotting you several times, just to continue fucking you the second it deflated enough so he could move.

You whined as you turned to snuggle into your mate, burying your face into his neck. “Mmph… you really wanna give me a litter?”

His heart thumped against his chest so hard you were sure you could feel it. “Yes… I… I love you, (Name). I want to be with you, and make you a mother…”

You touched your nose to his, both of you letting off soft purrs and happy sounds as you spent the morning tangled together in an intimate embrace.

From a young age you had been taught that bunny hybrids were quite fertile. Even when mating with other species, it was almost guaranteed that with just one sexual encounter, pregnancy would be in your future.

And that information had been completely correct.

Momo was absolutely thrilled when he began smelling pregnancy hormones on you, and from then on he became insanely protective and touchy.

Watching your belly begin to grow made him… feel many things. It was physical evidence of the love you two shared, the intimacy and touch that created life within his beloved mate.

As your pregnancy progressed, he caught himself getting hard and horny every time he watched you go up a size in your pants or shirts, or when you had to stop wearing bras because your tits were too heavy and full of milk.

Getting to witness you in the morning when you leaked through your shirt and seeing your cute flustered face as he lifted the soiled fabric and lapped at your darkened nipples… it was pure bliss for him.

Sucking and nipping softly at your sensitive buds allowed the milk to flow, filling his mouth with that tasty, creamy liquid he had come to crave.

Momo could feel his cock hardening, and he felt almost shy. Just as your own body had been becoming sensitive and needy through your pregnancy, his was responding to yours.

When you whined and tugged at his pants, he sighed. “Puppy, I’m not sure if it’s safe for us to mate when you’re this far along… your belly is heavy and swollen, I don’t wanna hurt our kits…”

You pouted at him, puffing out your chubby cheeks at his hesitation. While he was so close, you could feel your body aching to mate with him. Momo’s scent made you feel so hot and bothered, if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d go crazy!

That’s when an idea came to your mind. Momo wasn’t exactly hard to seduce. In fact, he was usually more horny than you most days, much needier as well. If you played your cards right, he might not be able to help himself.

“Baby…”

You opened your legs a little, letting him get a whiff of your arousal. The mix of that and your pregnancy pheromones made his body tremble.

“Yes, my love..?”

You leaned forward, pouting as you nuzzled your face into his neck, rubbing your scent on him. “Can you please take care of me? I need you…”

That was his tipping point. How in the hell was he supposed to just sit by when his beloved mate was desperate for release?

‘Just have to be gentle…’ he thought as he lowered you onto the bed and rubbed his throbbing bulge against your clothed cunt.

The feeling of your soaked panties pressing against his hard on was enough to make him hiss out in a mix of pleasure and need. Momo wanted to be inside of his mate more than anything.

“Momo… please!”

You struggled to move your hips against his with your baby bump in the way. His hand settled over your swollen belly, keeping you in place. It made his heart and sick throb thinking about how he had put kits into that round belly of yours.

“Don’t worry, puppy. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise…”

He pulled your panties off before lifting your shirt, his eyes on those perky, darkened nipples of yours. Once you were bare, his hands explored your body in a reverent way.

The changes you were going through were because of him. He had bred his sweet pup, leaving you pregnant and heavy with his kits.

“You’re beautiful…”

His fat cock rubbed against your clit, and he lined up his lips with your nipple. Milk was already beading at your perky bud. Your breasts were heavy and swollen, something you had been complaining about earlier.

Momo was going to kill two birds with one stone. He would satisfy you sexually and milk your fat tits.

His cock pressed into you, almost agonizingly slow. Momo was being as gentle as possible, sinking into his gravid little mate while his tongue lapped up the milk bearding to the surface of your nipple.

“So good… like honey…”

You arched your back, whining and struggling to take his cock while you were so heavily pregnant. You felt stuffed full… in the best way.

“M-Momo… faster…”

His bunny ears flicked, his eyes half lidded as he struggled to keep himself from pounding you into the mattress.

Your puppy cunt was just so tight and you were begging for him… Momo wanted to go faster, to feel your spongy walls tighten around his knot.

But he continued to fuck you at an agonizing pace, making your puppy tail wag. He loves you so much, he didn’t want to hurt his precious mate!

It was when your milk spurted into his mouth when he hit that special spot that he lost a bit of control. His cotton tail began to wag with yours as his thrusts sped up, his hips rutting against you.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

You let out a whine as Momo lifted your leg, pressing it against your pregnant belly so he fuck you deeper. Every time his cock hit your g-spot your milk spurted out again. His hand squeezed and teased your other breast.

The sight of your milk spraying out of your nipple in little streams made him go crazy. He began fucking you like an animal, his mind gone. All that he could think was that he wanted to breed you, to stuff you full of his cum again.

He couldn’t remember you were already pregnant, he was trying to knock you up again!

“Momo, g-gonna-!”

Your puppy cunt clenched around him, causing Momo to grunt and grab hold of your fat hips. He was frustrated, it was already hard enough to fuck you with your pregnant belly in the way, now you were clenching around him and preventing him from being able to move.

Suddenly you were on your side, a pillow propping up your belly as your mate crawled behind you. His arm snakes under your side, grabbing onto your fat tit and groping it as his cock sunk into your again.

“F-fuck, you’re perfect…”

He lifted your leg, now able to fuck into you as deep as he wanted, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

Now he could properly please his mate and satisfy his need to breed you and unleash his seed into your womb.

Momo nipped at your neck, your tail brushing against his chest as he milked you. You felt sticky and warm, milk running down your chest and pregnant belly.

He could feel his knot beginning to swell, he was going to cum soon!

“Puppy… fuck, I love you so much…”

The feeling of your fat pussy being stretched so his knot could fit had you cumming again, and his cum spurted into your puppy cunt.

The two of you were left a panting mess, tails wagging and ears twitching as you came down from your respective highs.

Momo looked at his mate, his cheeks red and heart full of love. You looked beautiful like this, flushed from sex and pregnant with his kits.

He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face against your hair as the two of you waited for his knot to deflate.

“Did I satisfy you, pup? Seems like you’re pretty happy to me…”

You smiled, your body heavy with exhaustion. It took great effort to lift your arm and cup his cheek.

“You always do… my mate always takes care of me.”

You both shared a kiss, tails wagging in sync.

Two months later, Momo held your hand as you gave birth. It was a difficult process, but in the end you were able to give birth to 5 happy babies. Some had fluffy little bunny ears and cotton tails like their father, while others looked like you.

“Mmm, it seems like they like you.”

You smiled, watching as your mate helped you hold onto your little ones. He was easily able to soothe them as they fussed, it was clear they already knew who their father was.

Momo sat at your bedside, his cotton tail wagging excitedly while he watched you breastfeed the kits ans pups for the first time.

“They’re hungry little things…”

His mouth was watering, and once all of them were fed, you lifted your shirt up and smiled. “C’mon, it’s Papa’s turn.”

He nearly knocked over his chair rushing to join you in the hospital bed, making sure to keep his weight off of you as he settled and latched onto your breast.

Momo looked up at you with those golden eyes, and you gently scratched behind his fluffy ears. “Mmm, my big baby.”

He yelped and turned red when you slipped your hand into his pants, jerking him off. You knew that he got hard while drinking your milk, and you just loved toying with your cute mate.

“P-puppy, what if the nurse comes in-“

You continued you pump his cock, making him moan against your breast. “Shh… just lemme make you feel good…”

He stared up at you, nipping on your perky bud. “I’m going to get you back your this, pup.”

“Mmm, I know…”

It didn’t take much to make him knot your hand, his hips bucking as he groaned, cum staining his pants. “Maybe I wanna rile you up for later…”

Momo gave you a lazy smile, his eyes hazy from pleasure. “Someone wants me to knock her up again…”

“As soon as I’m recovered… I’m all yours. Promise you’ll take care of me during my next heat?”

“And every single one after that. We’re bonded, pup. I’m yours… forever.”

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Yandere idea, reader is dicks baby mama and when dick decides to bring her to the wayne manor the batboys are instantly smitten with her and now all the boys are trying to steal her away from dick who is ready to fight everyone for his baby mama and baby

Smooth Criminal

Synopsis: Dick's brothers want his baby and his baby mama.

Pairing: Soft!Yandere!Batboys X Fem!AFAB!Reader

Tw: Attempt at crackfic; Implied kidnaping; Implied babytrapping; Reader is insecure with post-pregnancy body; Implied forced relationship; Dick controls what Reader wears; Jealous and possessive Dick Grayson; Touchy batboys; Batboys try to gaslight Dick but he's too smart for that; Slightly angry!Reader and accepting!Reader; English isn't my first language.

Word count: 1,2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Lol this was fun. Divider.

General masterlist

“And how did this happen?”

“Oh well, this one tried to hide the little one from me for a while, but of course I found them!” Dick exclaimed proudly, but with a hint of his (mostly) past anger at you. You bit your tongue while his family laughed.

You were sitting in the manor’s living room, wearing a sundress that Dick chose, waiting for the picnic on the gardens to be prepared by Alfred. The dress was pretty, and it had plenty of room for your babygirl to grow inside your belly without restricting you. Part of you wanted to resent her for being the reason you're stuck with Dick, but it was not her fault, and not yours either, Dick would shackle you to him one way or another.

Damian put his hand on your belly. Without your permission.

“Is she kicking yet?” Dick answered him for you. “You're 17 weeks along, it could happen anytime.” He started rubbing circles on your belly, out of nowhere. “I don't think Grayson would be a much useful help with that. Truthfully there is no sure way to make a baby stop kicking. But you can try to alleviate the discomfort with warm tea, calming music, light stretching exercises and rubbing the stomach.” He smiled gently. You were taken aback.

“Damian is a pediatric surgeon.” Dick explained while draping his arm over your shoulders, before planting his lips on your neck momentarily.

“Yes. But I mostly stick to managing my clinic nowadays. Your labour’s in good hands. I only have the best of the best on my teams.” Damian gave you a small, soft smile, as if trying to reassure you. He stopped his hand movements and smoothly slid his hands around each side of your waist. He was way too close to be comfortable, and even Dick frowned, confused, at that. You tensed at how close his face was from yours, especially because of your belly and chest grownth, and the fact he was kneeling in front of you. But then- Oh…

Your whole body relaxed instantly and you just had to close your eyes.

Damian grinned smartly and Dick looked at him, bewildered.

“Back pains.” He explained swiftly, while his magic hands worked on your back. You found yourself leaning against his chest and almost laying your head on his shoulder. You sighed dreamily. “You can stop by or call me anytime those get to be too much.”

“... Or I can do it myself.” Dick went to replace Damian's hands but you shot your arms out towards him to stop him.

“No, no, no, don't- don't stop…” You moaned when Damian kneaded a particularly tense knot and practically melted against him. Damian held back a smirk, staring innocently at Dick, who looked murderous.

“Thank you, Jay. I really needed that…” 

“I know, you looked so tense when I got here. I knew I could use my hands to loosen you up…” 

Dick bursted in the apartament, having just come back from the Titans Tower and heard the weird talk inside.

“Jay… What’re you doing here?” He said, strained, but hiding behind a mask of good humor.

“(N/N) called me.” Jason shrugged.

“Didn't know you were on nickname basis…” Dick contemplated, entering the room and taking your daughter from Jasons’ arms. He started rocking her to keep her doozing. 

“We're closer than you think, Dickie.” Jason snorted. You pursed your lips and decided to just keep sitting down on your rocking chair. 

“Love, why did you call him?” Dick asked, ignoring his brother and looking straight at you.

“The shower broke, your baby wouldn't stop crying, and I’m gross.” You crossed your arms.

“Seem’s to me someone’s slacking on the job…” Your eyes darted to Jason, wide, and ready to scream at him, even if it would make your daughter wake up. “Not you, sweetheart, never you. But your boy here certainly needs to step up.” He side-eyed Dick. It was unfair, Dick basically took over 90% of the baby’s care when he was home, because he was a good father, and he was slightly afraid you would run if given the chance. He even stopped working just to spend more time with you. The only reason he was away for days and didn't take you with him was because of something with the Titans and some guy called Deathstroke. You didn't really care to pay attention to anything he said as long as it didn't involve your life or the world’s safety. 

“You're an asshole, get out of here!” 

Jason smirked. 

“Can’t. Just put a bun in the oven for (Y/N).” He shrugged.

“WHAT?” You and Dick exclaimed at the same time.

“I’m baking some bread, relax…” 

“I need some help…” You were in a clothes store with your husband and his brothers, trying to find a dress for an upcoming gala that you didn't want to go, especially since your body changed during pregnancy, and your previous size isn't fitting the way you wanted to anymore. It’s especially annoying that Dick has to give you permission or order you to wear something, regardless of your opinion.

Before Dick could hand the newborn over to her uncle and get up to help you zip the back of your dress, Tim shot up from his seat.

“I’ll do it.”

Tim stood behind you and clasped the zipper between his fingers, before pulling it up. It went smoothly, until it reached your upper back and it wouldn't go up anymore. You felt embarrassment sink in the bottom of your heart, and before Tim could say something, you turned around.

“It doesn't fit, I should try something else.” You averted your gaze to the floor.

“Nonsense. You look stunning right now, (Y/N). It's just your…” Tim’s gaze flicked to your chest momentarily, before quickly staring at your eyes again. “... New curves. Let me use both hands and I’m sure it will fit.” He smiled at you, soft, reassuring, and trying to convince you really bad.

You let out a huff of breath from your nose, and begrudgingly turned again. Truth to his words, with his other hand gripping the fabric above the zipper, it went up smoothly again.

You pursed your lips, analyzing yourself in the mirror. It was tight, but not uncomfortable, red, and long, with a high slit showing off your thigh. But the cleavelange was a little too much to what you were used to.

“I don't know…”

“Oh, please…” Tim, still standing behind you, placed both hands on either side of your waist and squeezed. You felt momentary shivers run up your spine, and your face warmed from shyness. “You look beautiful. Really.”

“Timmy, back down. The wife is mine.” I’m not an object! Your mind screamed, while you held back the urge to clench your hands and stomp your feet.

“I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged. “If you’re so insecure, that's a ‘you’ problem.” Tim winked at you from the mirror, with a convinced half-smirk. “What do you think, (N/N)? I think he's just jealous that you and the little one like me more…”

“The baby doesn't like you more. She likes anyone who will give her junk food and new toys. You're not special.” Dick retorted, and Tim squeezed your hips. “Now back down before people think you're a couple.”

“Geez…”

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[xazse]

Bull Hybrid sukuna?👀

HELLOO! It’s been a while since I’ve posted I apologize for that I’ve been kinda busy so please accept this for right now! Love ya! (Sorry it’s so short my loves)

BullHybrid!Sukuna x CowHybrid!FemaleReader

BullHybrid!Sukuna is a big mean helping hand on the farm, you and the other cows stay far away him. Everytime he’s brought up the girls will always say how he just shrugged them off, even when one of them approached him whilst he heat, he didn’t seem the least bit interested in breeding, even the farmer is a little worried: not wanting his strong genes to go to waste.

That’s what everyone thinks, that you stay away from him as well but that’s completely the opposite.

He welcomes you with open arms everytime you manage to wander near his little home far out back, he’s gotten used to you needing a little good fuck out of him and he willingly gives it to you.

He discards you of those little shorts you wear in favor for looking at your sopping cunt, it’s amazing how little he does to have this much effect on you. Sukuna isn’t nice to you when he’s balls deep inside of you. He’s mean as fuck sliding his cock in and out of you over and over again.

He’s so mean, grabbing your tits like they aren’t the most sensitive things on the planet, he ignores your small pleas to let up a little, it just spurs him on, spurs him on to suckle on what little milk you have left for the day. With your cunt sucking him so greedily how can he not give you exactly what you want?

He drags his toned self agaisnt you to drag more out of you, you know you’ll be so bruised down there: unable to see him again for at least another five days.

[kingkaisen]

“WELL, WE SHOULD PROBABLY FUCK, RIGHT?”

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are both sealed away in the prison realm. with nothing else to do, you might as well start fucking, right?

♡ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), missionary, degrading nickname, best friends to friends with benefits, bickering, slightly jealous gojo, you & gojo are both the strongest sorcerers in the world.

♡ — A/N; based on this drabble (: I love this man sm, I’d do his taxes for him btw // also, pls don’t repost my gif!

♡ — WC; 3k

“This is all your fault, Satoru.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, so I was distracted,” Gojo kicked up his feet, placing his black boots across a pile of dusty skeleton heads as if he was at home, relaxing on his plush couch, and not trapped inside of the prison realm. “If I remember correctly – and I do remember correctly because it happened thirty seconds ago – you were distracted too. Who knew that seeing your dead classmate would throw you off?”

“Throw me off?” You frowned, moving around a pile of bones to sit down somewhat comfortably. “You nearly passed out. I saw it with my own eyes, Satoru.”

“Oh,” Giving a small chuckle, Gojo tilted his head a bit as he smirked. “So you could see that, but you couldn’t see the weird guy with the two short ponytails almost obliterate you?”

“I don’t remember that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See this?” Gojo lifted a skull pressing against his right leg, and he dangled it in front of you. “This would’ve been you if it wasn’t for me.”

“You dumbass,” you paused, rolling your eyes, “because of you, we’re both gonna end up exactly like that skeleton. You do realize we’re trapped in here, right? No way out?”

“Calm down. Someone will save us. I have faith, don’t you?”

“Hell no,” a small sigh fell from between your lips, “and you know what? I hope we don’t get saved. The fact that we let ourselves get captured like this is embarrassing. I absolutely cannot leave this stupid box and look another sorcerer in the eye after this. I’d rather die.”

“You’re pretty dramatic,” Gojo sighed. “I hear you, though. We really screwed this up. We should’ve picked different careers. I could’ve been a really nice basketball coach.”

“I would’ve been a coffee shop owner.” Distracted by your own what-if daydreams, you mistakenly leaned back on a pile of skeletons, nearly jumping out of your skin once you remembered that you were indeed lying on a pile of skeletons. “Shit! I gotta get outta here, I can’t do this.”

“Just calm down, it isn’t so bad.” As Gojo adjusted himself, he grunted. “Remember when you dressed up as a skeleton for Halloween? You manifested this.”

“I should’ve never taught you that word,” frowning, you stood up, glancing around the dark inner workings of the prison realm. “How can you relax in a place like this? Aren’t you uncomfortable? Or at least a little bit scared?”

“Hmm, no.” Gojo grinned.

“I shouldn’t have asked. You’re too stupid to know when to be scared.”

“Ouch,” Gojo said dramatically, a hint of amusement coating his words. “Ya know, I’m glad you’re not a coffee shop owner. You’d probably toss random shit in someone’s coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, please shut up.”

“You shut up,” Gojo retorted childishly.

Deep breathing exercises had certainly come in handy during moments such as this one.

Although years upon years had passed since you and Gojo were kids, running around in Halloween costumes and splitting popsicles, it felt as if no time had passed at all whenever you two held a conversation.

Even so, how exactly did it come to this?

Gojo never truly had an ordinary childhood — you were the only normal thing in his life at the time — but you grew up rather unextraordinary.

A normal girl, one who went to school and did her classwork before sneaking off to a secluded lake in the late afternoons with Gojo, skipping rocks and eating sandwiches together.

It was a beautifully plain life. One that was ripped away from you by curses and sorcery.

The only silver lining that truly existed was your old classmates; the dear friends you made once you attended Jujutsu High all those years ago, and in particular, a dark-haired, mellow guy.

“Must’ve been really hard for you,” Gojo suddenly mumbled, “seeing Suguru again. You two had gotten pretty close, right? Up until he . . . left?”

“What’s up with the mumbling? Now isn’t the time for you to get jealous.”

“I’m not,” Gojo mumbled once again, turning his head away from you. “It’s not like that was the real Suguru anyway. Our Suguru is gone for good.”

“Yeah.” The sad tone of your voice is what grabbed Gojo’s attention. One thing that was stronger than his jealousy over you and Geto’s old fondness for one another was his deep concern for you.

“Hey, c’mere,” Gojo smiled softly, facing you once again.

“Huh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I said come here.”

Hesitantly, you walked over to where Gojo was stretched out among the bones, sitting down on the ground beside him as best as you could with all the skeletons around. As you looked at him, it was rather impossible to understand how he could relax so comfortably.

“Come closer,” he held his arm out, waving you over.

“Why? What for?”

“‘Cause I wanna hold you, so just come here.” Suddenly, Gojo leaned up a bit, grabbing ahold of your wrist before pulling you on top of him.

With his other hand, he gripped the back of your thigh, moving your leg over his hips as he leaned back. He sighed with contentment once you were fully on top of him. Releasing your wrist, the white-haired man touched the side of your face, slowly guiding your head to his chest. “See? Isn’t this better than laying on those skeletons?”

“I guess so,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Why are you so tense?” Gojo guided his hand across one of your shoulders, and he started to rub it.

“Hard to relax when you’re trapped in the prison realm,” you paused. “Not to mention I’m literally laying on top of you.”

“So? We hug and stuff all the time.”

“This is more than hugging, and we’ve barely done that,” you smiled softly. “Kinda nice, though. You’re pretty warm.”

“You’re pretty warm too. And really soft.” With his other hand — the one that never left your thigh — Gojo slowly stroked you, gliding his hand up and down, but not daring to touch your ass just yet.

But he wanted to. Desperately.

Suddenly, Gojo shifted his body, squirming just a bit.

“You okay?” You questioned, lifting your head off of his chest to look at his blindfolded face. “Want me to get off?”

“No, not at all, everything’s fine,” Gojo lied.

Truth be told, his dick was starting to harden in his pants, and he could barely stand it.

“Oh, okay,” laying your head back down on Gojo’s chest, you spoke once again. “Satoru? What are we supposed to do until someone saves us? Just sit here and wait?”

“No, that’s a bad idea,” Gojo said.

“Then what should we do?”

Before he answered, Gojo placed his finger underneath his blindfold, pulling at it playfully.

“Well, we should probably fuck, right?”

It took a moment for Gojo’s sinful words to fully sink in. Upon realizing that you had heard him correctly, your head snapped up, your eyes widening with utter shock.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart,” Gojo smirked. “No need to make such a big deal out of it. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but . . .” You paused, darting your eyes across the vast, skeleton-filled, dark space. “Here? Of all places?”

Gojo shifted once again. He gripped his pants, but he truthfully wanted to grip his cock instead.

“I’d fuck you anywhere,” Gojo said lowly. “I just think it’s time we finally fuck each other, don’t you?”

Suddenly, his large hand gripped the back of your head, and your best friend shoved his lips against yours.

“Hmm,” Gojo moaned softly, kissing you passionately with those sweet, feathery lips of his. Kissing you — finally, after so many years of dreaming about it — was a magical experience. Before, he never believed in soulmates or seeing fireworks when kissing someone — until now.

“Shit, you’re so . . .” His words trailed off as he pulled away, his warm breath patting against your pretty face.

“Satoru,” you mumbled against his lips, “I didn’t know you thought of me this way. I didn’t think that I’d be someone you’d wanna sleep with.”

“Really? Why’s that?” As Gojo spoke, he took off his blindfold, staring at you — then your lips — with those vibrant, ocean-blue eyes of his.

“We’ve barely even hugged,” when you frowned, just a little bit, Gojo wanted to kiss your pouty lips over and over again until his mouth was sore.

God, he wanted you in ways he couldn’t even begin to vocalize.

But he’d certainly try.

“And I thought I was being obvious this entire time,” Gojo paused. “Whenever we would fight together, side by side, do you know how hard it was to concentrate? All I could ever focus on in the middle of battle was trying not to let myself get distracted by you. Hearing you grunt and groan, just watching the way you’d move. I’ve always wanted to take you home with me once the fight ended, toss you on my bed, and find out all the noises you can make; see how loud you can get. I just gotta hear you moan for me, baby. I have to.”

Running his thumb over your soft mouth, he slightly pulled down on your bottom lip, all before he leaned in again, moving his thumb away and replacing it with his lips.

This time, when he kissed you, he didn’t hold back. That sweet tongue of his entered your mouth as if it was on a mission, and he swirled his tongue around yours, enjoying every little surprised noise you made just as much as he enjoyed tasting your delicious mouth. He’d kiss you forever if he could.

A small part of him hoped that the two of you would never get released, and he could spend eternity with his tongue sloppily flicking against yours.

A pair of large hands suddenly gripped your ass. When you gasped, pulling away from Gojo’s lips, he smiled. You were just too cute.

Who knew that the prison realm would actually turn out to be heaven?

“You’re so tense,” Gojo said with a hint of a teasing tone. “Has no one ever touched you like this before?”

“People have — I mean, I’ve done stuff before, it’s just . . .”

When you failed to finish your sentence, Gojo took it upon himself to finish it for you.

“It’s just that no one’s ever made you feel good before,” his sly grin only grew. “Right?”

“I-” you stammered, “that’s none of your business.”

“Lay down.”

“Why?” You asked, your curiosity at its peak.

“I wanna eat you out, sweet girl. Now lay down.” Gojo’s hands moved from your ass to your hips, and he lifted you off of his lap and laid you down next to him.

He then flipped over on top of you, giving you another kiss — a little, quick one — before he started to impatiently unbutton your pants.

“What kinda best friend would I be if I just let you keep living your life without having had a proper orgasm?” He said, shrugging off your bottoms. “Told you not to waste any time with all those shitty guys. You should’ve been with me from the start.”

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you sat up on your elbows, looking down at the sorcerer between your thighs, who slowly pulled down your underwear and held your legs open. “You’re not the first guy who has said a bunch of hot things to me, but then failed to deliver-”

You were interrupted by your own unexpected gasp, as it was elicited from your throat thanks to Gojo’s skillful tongue, which had swiped right across your clit.

He was such a tease; that tongue of his could work wonders. And it did. He flicked at your clit rapidly, and during every quick stroke, his eyes never glanced away from your face.

You started to squirm, but he held onto your thighs, convinced that absolutely nothing in this world could make him want to stop eating your pussy. Not when it tasted so undeniably good.

“Had no idea this pretty pussy was so damn delicious,” he pulled away, mumbling against your wet folds. “Should’ve done this a long time ago, baby.”

When he dived back into your pussy, he licked and sucked, sucked and licked. Good god, you tasted amazing. So, so amazing. He couldn’t help but moan as he made a mess of your pussy; your juices and his spit decorating his face.

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned, “I’m close-”

Once again, your words were cut off by your own uncontrollable moans. That sweet orgasm was brewing right in the pit of your stomach.

You expected him to pull away once you warned him about your approaching orgasm, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his calloused fingertips into your plush thighs even harder, and he ate your pussy as messily as possible. Licked at it more rapidly. Sucked on your clit more hungrily.

“Cum in my mouth,” he moaned out in between licks. “Don’t hold back; I want it all. Cum in my mouth right now.”

“Gojo!” You called out. Last warning.

Instead of pulling away, he reached forward, grabbing ahold of your soft tits. With his fingers, he flicked at your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And with that, you arched your back off of the hard ground, moaning his name over and over again like a sinner praying for forgiveness.

Gojo lapped up your juices as if he was dying of thirst. He’ll be damned if he missed even a single drop of it.

“Damn it,” he said as he detached his lips from your swollen clit. “I wanna eat you out over and over again, but I gotta fuck you. I just gotta know what it’s like to be inside of you.”

Gojo sat up on his knees. He unbuttoned his pants. When he pulled them down, along with his boxers, his hard dick flung out.

You couldn’t help but stare at the mesmerizing large dick. The tip of it was red and swollen, precum dripping from his aching hole. Two long, thick veins ran along his member.

“You’re so big,” you stated, darting your eyes between his hard cock and handsome face.

“It’s okay,” Positioning himself in between your legs, he said, “I’ll make it fit, baby.”

When he pressed the tip of his dick against your awaiting hole, it felt like he was stepping through the gates of heaven.

One hand was placed next to your head, holding himself up, while his other hand gripped your hip.

His dick slid inside of your soaking wet pussy as if it belonged there; pieces of a puzzle coming together. The sinful moan that fell from between his lips was beautiful.

He couldn’t help it.

Not when your pussy was so tight, wet, and warm.

“Hmm, hey baby?” Gojo whispered, his warm breath patting against your ear, soft white hair tickling the side of your face. “You called me Gojo instead of Satoru earlier when I was eating your pussy. I want you to moan it again for me, over and over again. Can you do that?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Such a sweet girl,” he gave the shell of your ear a quick little lick. “So, so sweet.”

He didn’t wait too long to start thrusting in and out of you once your pussy had adjusted to his size. He simply couldn’t. Not when you felt so utterly amazing.

With his lips still close to your ear as he fucked you, the chatty man whispered all sorts of dirty things. And it only made you moan even louder.

“I could fuck you just like this forever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He grunted, slamming himself inside of you at a quicker pace. “Sorry if I’m being too rough. I can’t help it, baby. Your pussy’s driving me crazy, just like I knew it would. I knew my best friend would feel this good. Who else other than me would know what to do with a pussy like this? Hm?”

“Gojo,” you called out, gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Gojo, I can’t- I’m gonna cum again!”

“Already?” He smirked, pulling away from your ear, his face only a few inches away from yours. “Gonna cum all over my dick? Make a mess?”

You didn’t respond — you couldn’t respond — not when he rhythmically fucked you like a doll, the tip of his dick reaching all the right spots inside of you.

“Shit,” Gojo suddenly groaned. “Think I’m gonna cum too, baby. I can’t hold it . . . Can’t fucking hold it much longer. I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff that pretty pussy with my cum. No one else will get to.”

“Please do it,” you stammered out with a whine, struggling to speak from the way your body was being pounded into. “P-Please!”

Suddenly, Gojo felt your pussy tighten around his cock. A wave of pure bliss washed over you, making your toes curl as you moaned his name in broken syllables.

The prettiest tears started to fall from your eyes. Gojo kissed them away.

His own orgasm was approaching quickly, building up in his lower stomach, dick, balls, and even his thighs.

“I’m so close — I’m right there, baby. I’m right there. Shit — I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum right inside of you, baby — there’s so much of it. I’m cumming-”

Feeling your cum coat his cock as your pussy milked him pushed him right over the edge. He moaned so loudly, it would have been entirely unsurprising if someone could have heard it from outside of the box.

He shot ropes upon ropes of warm, thick, pearly cum inside of you. His dick throbbed with every pulse, spilling every last drop of his semen into your stuffed hole.

“Baby,” Gojo whined lowly, attempting to catch his breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever stop cumming. You drive me crazy.”

“Can we go again?” Looking into his eyes with a pleading glance, you said, “I need more, Gojo, make me cum again. Please?”

“Did I just turn my best friend into my little slut?” Smirking, Gojo leaned down, kissing your lips once again. It was his favorite thing to do. “I’ll make you cum as many times as you want, sweetheart. We might be here for a while, so why not?”

Suddenly, Gojo lifted you, switching your positions until you were sitting right on top of him, his dick still inside of you.

“The prison realm doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” you grinned.

Gripping your hips, Gojo’s eyes scanned over your beautiful body, admiring the perfect view as you started to ride him.

Perhaps, he would have to thank Kenjaku someday.

🏷: @allofffmypeaches @manjiroswifo @yourusernames @armani78 @darkphoenix3432 @komonika

[pearlessance]

Cupid's Chokehold — part two!

PEARL NECKLACE

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

summary: Uncle Tommy gives you everything you want for your twenty first birthday.

pairing: step uncle!Tommy Miller x f!Reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, stepcest, age gap (reader is 21, Tommy in his mid thirties), size difference, praise kink, oral sex (f!receiving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, begging, dom/sub undertones, tommy yearns bad in this one, a bit of angst mixed in, alcohol overconsumption, reader is made uncomfortable by someone at a bar, references to being drugged (but doesn't actually happen), allusions to addiction, reader gets a facial

note: if you haven't heard yet, i'm turning this into a little mini series!! you can let me know here if you'd like to be added to the taglist. thank you to everyone for the support on this one, I'm so glad you all love uncle tommy as much as i do. let me know what you think of this chapter, i love love love talking to you guys and i promise there's more to come!

wc: 10.8k

[series masterlist] [main masterlist] [AO3]

Tommy Miller is a high functioning addict.

Self aware enough to admit it, hedonistic enough to only manage it. Has been that way for as long as he can remember.

He likes the head buzz of nicotine and the dizziness of liquor and the adrenaline rush of a real bad decision. His favorite high, though, is you. His favorite sound, his favorite taste, his favorite sight. 

His favorite girl.

After that fateful night in his apartment, the two of you get good at the balancing act. The push and pull. You ride the line of too much and not enough religiously. Have gotten it down to a goddamn science.

But the problem is that an addict never knows when to quit.

He does well for a while. Truly. Learns that it’s a whole lot easier to manage his longing with witnesses around, and goes out of his way to avoid being in an empty house with you. He interlocks his fingers together and squeezes when the urge rises in him to touch you. To cradle your pretty face, to run his thumb over your mouth when you make some filthy joke and smile up at him. He bites the inside of his cheek when you’re sitting beside one another and turn to whisper something in sync, bringing you face to face, so overwhelmed with a craving for the taste of your tongue that his heart hammers against his sternum.

For what it’s worth, Tommy tries. Loses sleep over it, even. Stares up at his ceiling for hours, warring with what he wants and what he knows is right. 

The right thing would be to wean himself off of you. Cut back a little at a time. Day by day, until eventually the thought of you becomes less persistent. Until he stops smelling the faintest trace of your shampoo in his sheets, until he stops transferring that half-smoked cigarette with cherry lip gloss on the filter from pack to pack.

But then, sometimes, he catches this look in your eye when you’re listening to him speak. He could be talking about something shitty that happened at work or telling you about a song he heard on the radio that he thinks you’d like, and you just stare at him like he hung the moon in the sky.

He’s important to you, and you make him feel it. And it’s this, this that he can’t give up. The way you trust him so completely, the way you love him without a trace of doubt. 

You say it once, in passing. Everyone’s sitting in lawn chairs in the backyard, enjoying the nice weather before the rainstorm moving in from the west hits. You’re sitting next to Sarah, but your feet are resting in Tommy’s lap.

Sarah’s talking animatedly, telling everyone about her college English professor and how they’ve been playing matchmaker all semester. On three separate occasions, they’ve paired groups together, and couples have emerged from them. Sarah thinks it’s intentional, but your mom and Joel aren’t so sure.

Tommy stays quiet for most of the conversation. But then he says, “Definitely a little weird. But, uh…anyway, I wanted to let everyone know I’m a changed man. Dropping the whole blue collar act and going back to school to study English.”

Everyone laughs, and you kick the side of his thigh lightly with a shake of your head. Through your giggles you say, “I fucking love you,” and it fills him with so much warmth he’s overflowing with it.

He rides that high for days. Gives you shit for it, even. 

When he steals your half finished slice of pizza right out of your hands and you call him a dickhead with a smile on your face he says, “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

You don’t deny it, and even that makes him feel special. Tommy takes every crumb of affection you throw at him and eats it up with a fork and knife like it’s the most delectable meal he’s ever had. Consumes your sweet words and your closeness so thoroughly, it’s almost comical. Like he’s a dog with a bone, desperate for it, because he is.

He stays balanced, though. Never lets it go too far. Can feel right when his desire begins to cloud his judgment and knows when to call it. 

But things change one night at the dining room table.

You and Joel sit beside each other. He‘s in front of that shitty laptop he bought decades ago, trying to write an email that sounds both professional and assertive without using the words asshole or fucking idiot.

He’s grumbling and typing with his two pointer fingers and a single thumb on the keyboard, shaking his head as you explain, “You have to capitalize her name, Joel. You’re not sending an email to your friend, she’s a CEO.”

“Yeah, well, capital letters are meant for people. Not for corporate lizards trying to fuck with my company.”

You catch Tommy’s gaze from across the table, making you both snort and fall into rambunctious laughter, earning you a glare.

“It’s not funny,” Joel says sharply. “Stupid I even have to do this. I don’t know why people don’t just leave well enough alone.”

“Everyone wants a piece of the pie,” you explain. “You’re making good money doing good things, and she wants to be a part of it. You guys keep taking on more projects this year, and inquiries like this are just the beginning.” 

“It’s a good thing, ain’t it?” Tommy shrugs. “Means you’re doing somethin’ right.”

“Exactly,” you agree. You lean across the table and swipe the glass bottle from his hands to take a sip. 

Tommy knows you don’t like beer and isn’t surprised when you cringe at the hoppy flavor, wrinkling your nose at him. He thinks maybe you drink it anyway not for the alcohol, but to put your lips to the same place his were seconds ago. He tries not to let the warmth that idea elicits in his chest spread too far. 

“Well, I don’t need some uppity lady who works in an office telling me how to do my damn job,” Joel adds.

“So say that,” you tell him. He starts typing on the keyboard again, so you lean in close, peering over his shoulder. “Oh my God. Not word for word. You have to paraphrase.”

Joel throws his hands up in the air and groans in frustration. “How do I say fuck off in a nice way?”

You and Tommy both laugh again, which only serves to piss Joel off even further. It’s not funny, not really; it’s just the dramatics of it all. And, truthfully, Tommy finds everything funny when he's with you.

“You write it,” Joel says, pushing the laptop towards you. 

“That’s not gonna solve anything,” you say, shaking your head. 

“What if I pay you?”

“Then you’ll be in the same situation next time. You’re gonna have to learn how to be a business owner, Joel. Not just a contractor.”

“Okay, so make it permanent, then,” Joel says, shrugging. “Like a…a receptionist. Come work for me and quit that coffee place. They don’t even offer health insurance.” He says it with such disdain, and Tommy knows exactly why.

They’d discussed it on the way home from work one afternoon. Too god damn smart for a place like that, Joel had said, and Tommy could do nothing but agree.

“I can’t quit my job to write your emails for you,” you argue.

“Not just that,” he says. “Can be in charge of payroll and schedules and the licensing bullshit. All the things I’m bad at. Weekends off, whatever hours you wanna work. I’ll pay you double what you’re makin’ now, and you get health insurance.”

Hesitation shows on your face. Tommy knows his brother means what he says, and he thinks you know it, too. But it’s a lot to consider. A big change.

“You’re good at talkin’ to people,” Joel continues, closing the laptop. “An’ it would mean a lot to me.”

That’s what does you in, Tommy knows. The nail in the coffin. He sees it in the way your shoulders drop and your eyes soften. Selfless girl, he thinks. Always taking care of the people you love. “What if I don’t like it?”

“You will,” Tommy answers. Because he knows Joel will take care of you, too. Make sure you have everything you might need. But more importantly, Tommy knows you. And even though he can sense the way it threatens his balance on that already thin line between safe and depraved, he knows you’ll enjoy it.

And he’s proven correct on that very first day.

Joel sets you up in the air-conditioned trailer they haul from job site to job site. Mostly, they use it to cool off during lunch, everyone piling into the small space for half an hour before going back out into the Texas heat.

The two of you spend most of the day going over all the contacts Joel’s acquired over the years, and how to schedule a consultation, and where to order materials. He gives you all of his passwords and clears off the cluttered desk that never gets used. 

Everyone on the team is awfully eager to meet you, and Tommy’s no fucking idiot. He knows exactly what goes through their heads as they shake your hand and introduce themselves and stare a little too hard at the shadow of red lace beneath your thin white top.

They conveniently wait until Joel’s out of earshot before the comments start pouring out of their foul mouths.

Pretty little thing, ain’t she?

Joel’s got that livin’ under his roof? Christ. Poor old man.

You see the way those jeans fit her?

Is it too early to start callin’ Joel ‘pops’?

Tommy wonders briefly why they feel so comfortable saying shit like this in front of him, knowing who he is to you, but then realizes he’s said far worse in the past about girls half as pretty. They feel comfortable because in any other situation, he would be joining right in.

Noah’s the worst of it. Takes things a little too far when he says, “Stepdaughter videos ain’t number one on the hub for nothin’.” 

Tommy clenches his teeth. Keeps his head down. Tries and fails to fight his smug ass smirk when you come grab his truck keys a little after four and return to the trailer wearing his Carhartt hoodie, the one he’d left in the back seat a couple days ago.

Later that night, Tommy follows you up to your room. Door wide open, with Sarah just across the hall and Joel and your mom downstairs. Not that he has any intentions other than checking in after your first day. It’s just…precautionary—an added layer of security to prevent a backslide.

He flops back in your unmade bed, hands folded behind his head, and watches a little too closely as you bend over to unlace your sneakers. “Well?”

You unclasp your necklace and drop it into a ceramic bowl on your dresser. “I loved it,” you admit. “It was a little stressful, but…I don’t know. I liked feeling like I could make a difference. Like I’m not just going in there to do my job and go home, I felt like I was being productive. It was nice.”

Tommy’s pleased to hear it. Loves the way your voice sounds in his ears. Happy, satisfied. He knows right then and there that he needs to set a firm boundary with Noah because you’re never going back to that coffee place, and Noah’s not going anywhere near you. “Said you’d like it, didn’t I?”

With a roll of your eyes, you sit beside him and pull your legs close to your chest, resting your chin on top of your knees. “Joel’s kind of a hard ass.”

It makes him laugh because it’s true. Can’t count on both his hands just how many times his brother has nitpicked the way things are done. He can only imagine the pressure you'd felt in that trailer, likely being told how to talk to this person or that one. “Only the beginning, darlin’,” Tommy says. 

The sunlight leaks in through your bedroom window, sheer lace curtains casting rays of gold over your skin. You’re beautiful, Tommy thinks. Painfully so. Sometimes he’ll catch you at a certain angle, just like this one, and it makes his heart rate stutter.

In another world, Tommy wouldn’t let you out of sight fucking ever. Would accompany you whether you were going to a nightclub or if you were just going to the corner store. Because he knows from experience that all it would take for a man to fall to his knees before you is a single look from those pretty eyes. In another world, one where he wasn’t your Uncle Tommy, one where he could just be yours, he’d make damn sure you’d never need anything from another man. 

Never need a door opened for you, never need to pay for a meal, never need to confide in anyone else. He’d take care of you. Do it all. Satisfy you in every way of the word because it’s what you deserve. He wants to take care of you, wants to be a provider. 

Tommy supposes it’s what he’s always wanted, despite his actions reflecting the opposite. He wonders if maybe he’s just been waiting for you this whole time.

You ask, “What are you thinking about?” 

And he doesn’t lie. “You.”

With a scoff, you playfully pinch his side. A sliver of his abdomen is exposed where his t-shirt has ridden up, and feeling you there is a shock to his nervous system. 

And when your touch lingers, his body tingles, and his brain becomes foggy. Tommy Miller has never wanted anyone the way he wants you. Is reduced to the simplest, most carnally driven man just at the feel of your delicate fingertips on his skin.

Your attention is centered on your hand as you slowly move it across his soft belly, eyes hooded and filled with desire. 

Tommy knows that look now. Knows the filthy thoughts invading your brain, knows exactly what you’re reminiscing about. He knows, too, that the balance is skewed. The longer he lies here with you, the closer he comes to caving. “Your turn,” he says. “Spill your guts.”

When you speak, your voice is quiet. A barely-there whisper. “It would be so easy, you know.” 

He does. Has rolled the idea over in his head a million fucking times. “S’the problem,” Tommy explains. “Can’t stop myself twice.” 

“Then don’t,” you say simply, continuing to run your fingers over his skin. He sees his favorite troublesome smirk begin to form on your sweet mouth and has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from finding too much joy in it. “Could do it right here. Bet they’d never know.”

The edge of your pinky finger dips just below the waistband of his jeans. Barely there, but Tommy notices everything you do, and this is no exception, hyper aware of your every movement. He lets out a slow, shaking breath and swallows hard. He can’t bring himself to move or push you away like he knows he should. All he manages are two, hesitant words. “Ain’t right.”

Your response is quick. Honest and true. “I don’t care.”

It only makes his will to abstain that much harder. Knowing he isn’t alone in his longing, knowing you’re suffering in such a similar way…it hurts him just to think of it. But it’s different for you. Easier. Because you’re just at the beginning of your life, while he’s nearly halfway through his.

You have time to bounce back from this. To choose someone your age who’s a lot less twisted. Someone you don’t have to hide from the people closest to you, who you can kiss out in the open without shame.

And Tommy’s…well, Tommy knows there will never be anyone else for him. Has sat with that fact for quite some time. Accepted it by now, and considers himself lucky just to have had that one, stolen night.

Slowly, you move further down the mattress. The same one he once slept on that now belongs solely to you. You slot yourself between his strong thighs and his cock swells as you look up at him through your lashes.

There’s an experiment here, Tommy knows. The two of you are just alike. So similar that sometimes it frightens him. He can see the challenge in your eyes, testing the waters, seeing how far you can go before he pulls you back. 

You lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands on his hips. And when you press your lips to the bulge in his jeans, Tommy bites back a moan. 

This is too far, he knows. Way too fucking far.

His heart hammers in his chest. The door is still wide open, and everyone is home. All it would take is one person to walk down the hallway, and it would all be over. 

But it would be easy. Quick, too—Tommy’s never had much control when it comes to you.

With a quick flick of your thumb, you pop open the silver button. Saliva gathers between your parted lips, mouth watering for a taste of him. 

Tommy Miller is weak. Corrupted. Sick and twisted and perverted and— “Beautiful, baby,” he whispers. “You’re so fucking…Christ. You got any idea how fuckin’ pretty you are?”

He gently strokes your hair, and when you smile up at him, he grins right back. His cock is already hard but then you pull his zipper down with your teeth and Tommy thinks he might die without relief.

Sarah calls your name from across the hall.

You scramble away from each other, sitting at opposite ends of the bed seconds before she rounds the corner. 

“Do you remember Summer? That girl from my biology class?” Sarah pays Tommy no mind as she sits beside you.

It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be in your room, after all. He’s the first to lend a helping hand when you get the urge to move your furniture around and has carried up your laundry from the basement countless times.

“Yeah, of course,” you say. “The one you…”

Sarah flushes a deep crimson. Her eyes flicker between your face and Tommy’s, and he’s smart enough to read the room.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he says, standing from the bed, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt.

You grab his hand as he walks past. Just briefly, but it turns his insides molten. One more lingering touch before he leaves. A way of saying, I don’t want you to go, but I know you have to.

Once out in the hallway, Tommy zips up his jeans and takes a few long, deep breaths before he goes downstairs to say goodbye to your mom and Joel. The two of them talk briefly, and Joel asks how you felt after your first day.

He says, “An’ I know you know that girl like the back of your hand, so don’t lie. She like it or not?”

Tommy isn’t quite sure why the words leave him feeling dizzy, but they do. He likes that he knows you so well and likes even more that the closeness you share is so visible. If he can’t outwardly call you his, if he can’t outwardly be yours, then he’ll take whatever this is. “She likes it.”

Joel’s shoulders sag in relief. “Good, cause she’ll make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

The next morning, Tommy stops by at seven to pick you and Joel up before heading to the job site. You carry a steaming travel mug in each hand, and before you climb into the back seat, you poke your head through the open driver's side window. “Just milk and sugar,” you say. “Right?”

He doesn’t know why you ask when you know the answer. “You didn’t have to do that, darlin’,” he says. But he happily takes the coffee anyway and takes a careful sip. It’s the perfect ratio. Tommy’s not surprised. 

There’s a playful lilt to your voice as you say, “I usually take mine with cream, but we were all out. Thought maybe you could supply me with some.”

He laughs hard and shakes his head. “Un-fuckin’-believable,” he says through his mirth. He glances over the top of your head to see Joel locking the front door behind him.

You uncap the lid. “Well?”

His face burns, but Tommy thinks he’s never had such a perfect start to his day. “Get in the truck before you start somethin’ you can’t finish.”

“But that’s my favorite thing to do,” you whine, pushing your bottom lip out into a dramatic pout. You listen, though. Replace the lid and climb into the back seat behind him.

Tommy scoffs and says with a grin, “Don’t I know it.”

It doesn’t take long for you to get awfully good at your job. That first week alone, you manage to slice their payment for materials in half just by haggling with the lumber mill Joel’s bought wood from since the nineties. You accompany him to a handful of consultations, learning what to look for in a client and how to pick and choose which jobs are worth taking.

You convince Joel to buy a mini fridge for the trailer that you keep fully stocked with bottles of water. And when you bring in those electrolyte drink mixes, it’s all anyone talks about for days.

Noah says, “The peach one is my favorite. Wanna taste hers next.”

Everyone finds humor in it but Tommy.

The words come out sharper than intended. “Quit sayin’ shit like that, man.”

Noah laughs. Like it’s funny. “You’re telling me you don’t want a piece of that ass?”

“What I’m telling you is to shut your goddamn mouth,” Tommy answers. He stops digging through the sand they’ve been moving for the last hour, left hand squeezed tightly around the red handle of his shovel.

“It was a joke, Tommy. Lighten up.”

“Don’t care what it was,” he says, staring Noah in the eye. “I hear some shit like that again and I’ll fuck you up. You understand what I’m sayin’?”

Noah sizes him up, and for a split second Tommy thinks he just might be brave enough to step. But Noah just sneers and returns to the task at hand, an awkward silence lingering between the group of them.

But Tommy doesn’t care. Sits in that silence happily knowing he won’t have to listen to anyone speak about you like that anymore.

Joel cares, though. And on the way home, he says, “Mike told me about you giving Noah a hard time today. You two gonna have a problem?”

“Wait, what happened with Noah?” You slide to the center of the leather seat in the back of the cab.

“Nothing,” Tommy lies. “Ain’t gonna have a problem.”

Joel narrows his eyes in warning. “Good. 'Cause that’s the last thing we need right now. Behind enough as it is.”

He thinks that’s the end of it.

But then you say softly, “He asked me out the other day.”

“He what?” Tommy and Joel say it in perfect unison. Equally floored and equally irate.

Joel turns almost completely around in the passenger seat.

You raise your hands in surrender and look at Tommy through the rearview mirror. “Said he wanted to take me to dinner, and I told him I’d rather starve.”

“Listen to me,” Joel says with that stern, no bullshit dad voice he sometimes still uses on Sarah. “I don’t want you anywhere near those boys. Ain’t a single one worth a damn. Liars and cheaters and fucking criminals. All of ‘em.”

A crease forms between your brows. “So why the fuck did you hire them?”

“Cause they’re good at what they do,” Joel explains. “But that don’t make them good. Deserve better than that. You hear me, kid?”

“Yeah, I hear you. Keep it professional with everyone,” you say. “Except for Uncle Tommy.”

He chokes. Tries to cover it up with a cough, but it doesn’t work in the slightest. His hands pale around the steering wheel.

“Exactly,” Joel says.

Later that night, Tommy is smoking on the back porch when you step outside to join him. It’s the first moment he’s had alone with you all day. “You tryin’ to get me killed or somethin’?”

“Or something.” You lean back against the siding and shrug. “Kinda sounded like Joel’s blessing to me.”

“You’re fuckin’ trouble, girl.” Tommy chuckles and passes you his lit cigarette when you reach for it. “Joel wasted all that breath warnin’ you about those boys when he should be warnin’ them about you.”

“Yeah, probably. But you love it.” 

Tommy can do nothing but agree because it’s the truest thing he’s ever heard. “Your birthday’s comin’ up soon,” he says, watching as you take the nicotine deep into your lungs. “Twenty-one. Anything you want?”

That too familiar smirk forms on your face, and Tommy knows what you’re going to say before you even open your mouth. Can see all those filthy thoughts behind your eyes, can almost hear whatever dirty joke you’ve got locked and loaded on the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t even fuckin’ start with me,” he warns, a playfulness to his voice. But there’s no weight to it. Your inability to take anything seriously is one of his favorite things about you. 

Your lips part in a mockery of surprise. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“Didn’t have to,” he says, plucking the cigarette from between your fingers. “Give me something realistic.”

“Okay…” You tap your index finger against your chin, contemplating. “What about…a pearl necklace,” you say with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

Tommy laughs. Can’t help himself. “Alright, you know what? I take it back. You only get gifts if you’re good.”

He thinks the sound of your giggling might be the only thing that’s ever truly brought him peace. Finds comfort in your joy, in knowing you’re happy. But when your laughter dies down, there’s a sad sort of look in your eye. A melancholic longing. 

Then you quietly say, “I just want you.” And Tommy’s ears ring.

This is what hurts him the most. The heavy truth of it. 

He’d known that taking your closeness to new heights would change him in irreparable ways. Known that nothing would ever compare, and he was ready and willing to live the rest of his life with that dull ache in his chest. Welcomed the haunting of emptiness with open arms because it was you and it was him and that one fucking night was yours.

But Tommy wasn’t the only one who’d been changed by it. Wasn’t the only one to suffer in the aftermath. 

He wants to comfort you. Wants to take your hands in his and kiss each of your knuckles until his lips turn blue. He doesn’t move, though. Not even an inch. Because he’s never felt nearer to a relapse than he does when you look at him like that. Like you see him. Like he’s all you see.

“I’m right here,” he says. “Always will be.”

Tommy means it. He thinks he would follow you anywhere just to feel the faintest warmth of your affection.

It seems to satisfy you. For now, at least. You give him the tiniest smile, a half effort, but it soothes the sting for him, too. Just a little. 

Your birthday falls on a Friday. Tommy gets up early and stops at a bakery before heading to Joel’s, and is pleased when he uses the key under the mat to find that the house is quiet. Still.

He creeps up the stairs and slips soundlessly into your room. The day is just beginning, and the light of dawn spills through your cracked window. Tommy sits on the edge of your bed and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

When he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, you stir and stretch out your limbs. Your voice is tired and filled with sleep as you ask, “Uncle Tommy?”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he whispers. He cradles your face in his hands and strokes your cheek with his thumb as clarity slowly finds you.

You smile up at him with starry eyes, and Tommy’s stomach flips. You’re so good, so perfect that sometimes he wonders how the fuck you’re even real.

“C’mon,” he says. “Sit up for me. Got you somethin’.”

Tommy holds your hands when you reach for him and pulls you forward. You push yourself up the rest of the way and fold your legs over one another beneath the blankets.

It’s only at that precise moment that Tommy realizes you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and the sight of it steals the air right from him. He likes it—loves it. Loves that a piece of him lives here with you. In your closet, in your room, in your sheets.

He’s not quite sure how you ended up with it, though. Thinks he might’ve left it on a lawn chair after spending an afternoon in Joel’s pool, or missed it in the dryer when the ones at his apartment were out of order.

But then you say, reading his every thought, “I stole it.”

Tommy laughs. “Think you’re supposed to ask before you take things that aren’t yours.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You lean forward, lips an inch away from his ear. “And I know I’m not the only one with sticky fingers, Uncle Tommy.”

His face burns. He thinks of your cherry lip gloss on his bathroom sink and your tank top on the right side of his bed and your lace panties in his nightstand. Tommy thinks he should know better than to hide things from you anymore. You’re too close, too similar. “Caught me,” Tommy mutters.

And then he digs his lighter out of the front pocket of his jeans and lights the ten cent candle he’d found at the back of Joel’s junk drawer. He sticks it into the center of the cupcake he’d picked out just for you—lemon flavored, with vanilla frosting and lime colored sprinkles. 

He holds it between you and says, “Make a wish, birthday girl.”

The flame flickers as your gaze darts between Tommy’s eyes and his mouth. You smile widely, and he can’t resist mirroring your joy. Feels it as thoroughly as if it were his own. Tommy’s never cared much for his birthday, but he feels overwhelmed with gratitude for yours. Thankful.

You close your eyes, make your silent wish, and then blow out the candle. He unwraps the wax paper for you, crumbs sticking to his fingers, and laughs when you take a bite and let out a blissful moan. “Holy shit,” you say.

Tommy feels pride bloom in his chest. Thinks pleasing you might be his favorite thing on the planet. “S’good?”

“It’s fucking amazing,” you answer. And then you turn the cupcake towards him. “I’m not kidding. Try it.”

He does. Leans forward and takes a careful bite right from your hands. You’re not wrong, either. The lemon is refreshing, and the vanilla buttercream is the perfect sweetness. Tommy nods as you take another bite. “Christ,” he says. “Worth every damn penny.”

You touch your thumb to the corner of your mouth. “You’ve got frosting on your face,” you say with a teasing grin.

Tommy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I get it?”

“More to the left,” you instruct. But when he tries again, Tommy knows it’s still there when you hold in your laughter. And then you say, “Can I…?”

Tommy doesn’t understand right away why you even ask. You’re always laying your head on his shoulder or draping your legs over his or running your hands through his hair. This is no different, nothing out of the ordinary. 

But when he nods, you lean forward and lick the frosting off his bottom lip. 

It freezes him in time. Seconds feel like minutes as they tick by. He can feel the wetness of your tongue on his mouth, and you linger. Close enough that he can taste the sugar on your breath.

His morals hang in the balance. Sobriety threatened. Tommy Miller wants you so badly that he starts to wonder if you’re some fucked up form of punishment. Karmic justice for all those hearts he’s broken in his youth, just to be denied the one woman he’s ever truly wanted.

When you speak, it’s breathless. Nearly inaudible. “Kiss me.”

It is your birthday, after all. 

He fights the intensity that batters against his every impulse and instead presses his mouth to yours gently. Unhurried. So much different than the first kiss you’d shared. Your lips move against his in sync, one soul split into two bodies, whole again for the first time in months. 

Tommy thinks it’s just instinct when his tongue meets yours. You taste just as he remembers. A little warm and a little honeyed and a little like opium.

When you pull away, he feels the loss like a knife.

But then you cover your mouth with your hand and laugh, elation spilling through your fingers, and it’s like a balm to his heart.

Around another mouthful of confectionery, you insist, “Here. Have some more.”

Tommy sits there with you, waiting for the sun to rise, and the two of you share your birthday cupcake before the rest of the world wakes. You close your eyes and drop your shoulders as if it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten, giggling between each bite.

It’s such a soft, quiet moment. Only the two of you. For just a little while, you have nowhere to be, no one to perform for. It’s just you, and it’s just him, and when you take the last bite, Tommy licks the frosting from your fingertips.

Joel’s alarm echoes down the hallway, and Tommy taps the tip of your nose, delighting in the pretty way it scrunches in response. “I’ll see you outside,” he says. “Happy birthday, darlin’.”

On the way to work, Joel asks about your plans for the weekend, and you tell him about how your friends are taking you to that new bar that just opened up downtown. He warns you to be careful, tells you it’s been packed full of people every time he’s driven by it, and says to call if you need anything.

You promise you will. 

For dinner, your mom makes all your favorite foods, and Sarah gifts you a handmade pony bead bracelet. She wears a matching one on her wrist with the colors inverted, and they both say 4EVER in little black letters.

When Tommy returns to his empty apartment that night, it’s with a deep sadness. He tries to drown it out. Showers off the sweat of the day and watches something mind-numbing on television. But the main character in the sitcom rerun makes a dirty joke, and he can almost hear you laughing at it beside him. 

Everything reminds him of you.

He thinks about calling one of the women he’s hooked up with on and off throughout the years, but the problem is that Tommy knows how that ends. Knows he’ll ask them to leave halfway through, and he’ll lie there, unsatisfied and painfully in love with a girl he can never have.

His longing chokes him until he’s devoid of breath, of life. Just a shell of a man without you. 

This is the wretched low he pays for those highs, Tommy knows. And he pays it without complaint because the highs are heavenly. Fucking spiritual.

He goes to sleep every night without regret. This emptiness is oppressive, but his love for you is transcendent.

His phone rings a little after one in the morning.

Your voice is slurred when you speak. “Uncle Tommy?”

Something’s wrong. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he does. Can hear it in your voice. “Where are you?”

There’s faint music in the background. “That new bar on Sixth Street. Can you…I’m sorry. Can you come get me?”

He’s out of bed and pulling on his jeans before you finish asking. “I’m on my way, baby. What happened?”

You say, “I’m not…I’m not sure,” and Tommy’s heart sinks.

Because whatever it is is bad. Can feel it in his fucking bones. “Are you alone? Who’s with you, sweetheart? Where are your friends?”

“No, I…I’m just really—I had too much to drink, I think. There’s just so many people and I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

The new bar is halfway across town, but Tommy makes it in six minutes. It’s at capacity, just as he’d anticipated, all the townsfolk trying to see for themselves what all the hype is about. Tommy might recognize a few faces if he gave anyone but you half a second of thought, but he doesn’t.

He makes a beeline for the women's restroom at the back of the bar and ignores the scowls he receives from the two girls touching up their makeup in the mirror. He calls your name and finds you in the very last stall, sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your legs.

Tommy breathes a little easier when he sees you. Knows that with him, you’ll be safe. He kneels at your side and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You let out the softest whimper. “Uncle Tommy,” you say, voice filled with affection. “You came.”

“Course I did. S’alright. C’mon.” He tucks his arms beneath you and pulls you to your feet. Supports your weight almost entirely as he leads you out of the crowded bar and back to his truck.

When he leans over your slumped frame to try and buckle your seatbelt, you start peppering the side of his face with sloppy kisses.

He says, “Okay, alright一would you just一sit still一”

But he doesn’t mean it. Not really. You’re a giggly mess of a girl, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and sliding your cold hands over his too-warm skin. “You’re just.” Kiss. “So.” Kiss. “Fucking cute.” Kiss.

Tommy’s smiling hard, but pushes you away as much as he hates to. “Cute, huh? Don’t know about all that, sweet girl.” He finally latches your seatbelt and quickly rounds the truck to the driver's side.

You're reaching for him the moment you can, arms outstretched and fingers grabbing for him. “Hold my hand,” you say, and of course he does. Kisses your knuckles as the engine roars to life.

Tommy says, “Let’s get you home.”

And you respond sleepily, “You’re my home.”

He tries not to read too much into it. Knows you’re just sappy and drunk. You don’t mean it. Not really. Tommy’s seen you trashed before. Has covered for you countless times and has all those drunken texts you’ve sent him memorized. You’re always like this. Loving and overly affectionate, a happy drunk to your core.

But you’ve never said anything that moved him quite this much.

Home.

What a perfect way to describe it.

But he just shakes his head. “How much have you had, kid?”

You toss your head back and laugh like it’s the silliest question he ever could’ve asked. “Too much! That’s why I called!”

Still holding tight to his hand, you roll down your window all the way. The air is cold but fresh, filling the cab of his truck with the scent of the early morning dew. You lean your head against the leather frame and close your eyes.

Tommy’s not quite sure when you fall asleep because your hand remains in his, squeezing tight even in your unconsciousness. He checks on you every couple of seconds, monitoring your breathing and the soft, slumbering noises you make.

He hates to wake you, but does it anyway when he returns to his apartment. You groan in defiance when he makes you stand, and it takes everything in him not to give in and carry you. 

“I know, baby, I know. But I need you awake for a little while longer,” he says. “Gotta get some food and water in you first, okay?”

You fight him each step of the way. Defy Tommy’s every instruction, once bubbly demeanor now replaced with agitation. But once he’s got you inside, he lets out a sigh of relief. He lays you on the couch and disappears into the kitchen for only long enough to make some toast and fill a tall glass with icy water. 

He holds your head up with one hand and tilts the cup against your mouth with the other, doing everything for you apart from the actual hydrating. You eat the toast slowly and argue between each bite, but he persists.

While you sleep, Tommy sits on the floor beside you. Half monitoring, half admiring.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you for a single second. Even though exhaustion weighs down his limbs, Tommy is more concerned about you than he is about himself. He spends the night stroking your hair and making you drink a little more water each time you stir in your sleep.

A few times, you wake up completely, turning over to try and find comfort. You whine and sniffle, and Tommy repeats the same tender words until you fall back asleep. “You’re alright. I’m still right here. Uncle Tommy’s got you.”

It’s late by the time you sober up, almost noon. Tommy’s back aches from sitting on the hardwood for so long, and he needs a coffee or a nap or both—but the important thing is you. Always you.

You smile when you see him, and it’s so warm. A kindness that he’s only ever received from you.

It’s a visceral reaction, his mouth pulling up at the corners. Like he just can’t help it. He sees your happiness and feels it, too. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you say. And then you grab his big hand and press it against the side of your face. Tommy can feel your joy, can feel the way the muscles strain as you fight off your sleepy giggles.

He runs the pad of his thumb gently over your cheekbone. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like my head’s going to explode,” you say, voice filled with so much faux cheer that it’s comical. 

Tommy chuckles and stands to his feet, knees cracking. “Let me get you some aspirin.”

He’s not at all surprised when you follow him to the bathroom, never far for very long. While he sifts through his medicine cabinet, you sit on the edge of the tub. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” Tommy promises. He dumps two aspirin into his palm and hands them to you.

It takes a second before you speak. You turn the little pink tablets over and over in your hand, eyes downcast. And then you say, “I was too drunk and overwhelmed last night, but that isn’t what scared me. Noah was there.”

Tommy’s heart sinks to his feet. His jaw clenches, his knuckles turn white. 

“He kept…I don’t know. He wanted to take me home, and I was dodging him all night, but he just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Followed me for an hour, trying to change my mind. He didn’t…didn’t do anything, but it freaked me out.”

Tommy thinks he’s never wanted to hurt another man so badly in his life. He takes a deep breath, makes sure his rage isn’t fueled by any rash decision. And then he leaves the bathroom and finds his shoes. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Wait—Tommy, please don’t.” You follow, clawing at the back of his t-shirt. “Please.”

The fear in your voice stops him. He thinks maybe you don’t quite understand the gravity of the situation, so he tries to explain. “Can’t let this one go,” he says, shaking his head. “Not—Christ. Not this. He doesn’t get to make you that uncomfortable and get away with it. Fuck no.”

“I love that job,” you reason. “And I promised Joel—!”

“He’ll be just as pissed when he finds out—”

“I don’t want him to find out. Please, don’t.”

Tommy takes your hands between his. “Do you understand how much worse it could have been?” Tommy feels sick, thinking back on all those times Noah had made jokes about roofies and Tommy had just discounted it as dark humor. “Ruined your fuckin’ birthday,” he grumbles. 

You say, “He didn't ruin it. I got to spend it with you, didn’t I? That’s all I wanted.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. Tommy can’t hear such sweet words when he’s like this—hot and angry and murderous. “No.” He shakes his head. “He doesn’t get to—”

“If Joel fires me for this, I will never forgive you,” you suddenly say, voice holding a cutting edge.

Tommy doesn’t understand. “What? Sweetheart, he’s not going to be mad at you, okay? You’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing. Joel will understand why I have to do this. He’s going to be mad at Noah, baby, not you.”

“Who I swore not to cause issues with!” Tears well in your wide eyes, and Tommy feels something inside his chest crack wide open. He’s never seen you cry before, not like this.

He pulls you into an embrace. Holds you tight against his chest, arms wrapped around your shoulders. His hands shake, unable to get a handle on either his anger or his despair.

Against his shoulder blade, you murmur, “Promise me you won’t tell Joel.”

And Tommy does. Swears to keep this as far away from you as possible. He refuses to make matters worse for you and, Christ, the sight of you crying makes him fucking miserable. He’s never hated anything more.

Once you sniffles subside, you lift your head and say, “I smell fucking awful.”

Tommy laughs, tension bleeding from his shoulders. “Go shower. I’ll find you some clothes.”

He picks out an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring, sets them on the bathroom sink and decides to make you breakfast. But Tommy notices quickly that his eggs are expired, and the box of cereal on top of the fridge has gone stale. He has nothing to offer you, and he’s not sure why, but the realization leaves him feeling hollow. 

Eternal bachelor with nothing to his name. You can never be his, and Tommy knows this, but he thinks maybe if he were…better, somehow, that maybe you could be. But you’re too good for him. Too sweet, too lovely, too you.

And Tommy’s…well. He’s Tommy. And just because you look at him like he puts the stars in the sky doesn’t mean he actually does. He’s not like Joel, never has been. Has always gotten into trouble, doing things he knows he shouldn’t. Fighting or drinking or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Tommy’s never had his shit together a day in his life, and you deserve someone who can take care of you. Someone less disappointing.

Someone who can make you breakfast, for fucks sake. 

He feels you before he sees you一your warmth at his back. Tommy’s eyes flutter closed when you slip your arms around his waist and lay your head in the space between his broad shoulders. 

You say, “Thank you for always keeping me safe,” and Tommy wonders how the fuck you always know exactly what to say. Like you’re in his brain, somehow—a sixth sense finely tuned precisely to him. 

Emotion bubbles up in his throat. Thick and smothering. He loves you, Tommy knows. Has never and will never love anyone like this again.

“You make me so happy.” There’s a tenderness in your words, soothing his every ache. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Tommy turns in your embrace. Cradles your face in both hands and promises, “You’ll never have to find out. M’always gonna be here for you.”

You kiss him, and Tommy lets you, even knowing he shouldn’t. It’s a little different than the one you’d shared at dawn in your bedroom. A little more heated, filled with clear intent.

He can sense it. Feel it in your every movement. Knows just what you want, what you need, and slips his tongue into your mouth when your lips part anyway. Let's you tilt your hips against his, feeling the growing hardness there, and swallows up your moan as he slots his knee between your legs. 

His breath comes fast, and he’s aware of just how wrong it is, but you make him feel so important. Like you really, truly want him. Not for the things he does but just for him—flaws and disappointments and all.

An addict who always craves your fix.

You rock your hips against his knee and breathe a sigh of relief into his mouth. Tommy helps you, grabbing at your soft thighs and pulling you back and forth to increase the friction. 

It’s too much. Too far.

This isn’t a drunken night. It’s the morning after. Stone cold sober, inexcusable.

“We should stop.”

“I know,” you say. But neither of you takes your own advice. He only kisses you harder, soaking up all of your benevolence for as long as he can. You slide your hand between your bodies and palm his cock through his jeans.

The surety of your touch is dizzying. You want him. It’s clear as day, but he wants to hear you. “Say it.”

You don’t hesitate, reading him like an open book. Tommy suppose, for you, he is. With sugary sweet words, you admit, “I need you, Uncle Tommy.”

He’s never been good at denying you anything. “I know, baby.” In one swift movement, he lifts you off your feet, and your legs wrap instinctively around his waist. He kneels down and lays you back, right there on the kitchen floor, and tugs your borrowed sweatpants down your thighs.

You kick them out of the way, and he pushes your t-shirt up over your breasts. “Touch me,” you sigh.

Tommy presses his mouth to the center of your chest. Inhales deeply, taking the familiar scent of you into his lungs. He cups your breasts in his big hands, the rough pads of his thumbs grazing over the peaks of your nipples.

He kisses and licks and bites down the center of your belly, leaving shallow indentations in the shape of his teeth on each of your hips. When he presses his mouth to your pubic bone, Tommy leans back just enough to get a full look at you. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

A soft flush crawls up your cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much,” you say.

Tommy understands. Even though he’s been right here, right by your side, he hasn’t been completely honest until this very moment. Not with you, and not with himself, and not since that night in his bed.

It’s like being unclothed. Bare boned. You both know the truth of it, know that he’s your Uncle Tommy and that it’s corrupt and perverted for him to be here, kneeling between your legs. But he’s here anyway, and his mouth is watering, and he fucking loves the sounds you make when his slides his tongue through your slit.

He licks up the wetness that has gathered, groaning at the heady taste of you. Your hands tangle in his hair when he circles your clit with a pointed tongue, drooling down his chin. 

With one arm wrapped tightly around your thigh, keeping you in place, Tommy uses the other to gently press his two middle fingers into you. The sight of your arched back is extraordinary; the kind of goddess-like beauty the poets write about. Your pussy clenches around his fingers when he twists them inside of you and pushes firmly against that spot that has you writhing.

“That’s so一” You inhale sharply. “Fuck, it’s so good.”

It pleases him to hear it. Loves knowing that in this, he can never fail you. Tommy sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over the sensitive nerves, and thrusts his fingers a little faster. He thinks he’ll never grow tired of this. Of the way you taste, the way you sound, the way you call his name.

“Oh, God. Please don’t stop, please.” He wouldn’t dream of it. Your body shakes beneath him, thighs trembling in the grip of his rough palm. He can feel your walls pulse around his fingers, and Tommy knows you’re close. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he slides his thumb easily through your folds to swipe it over your clit. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your soft belly. “Your pretty pussy always get this messy?”

You shake your head and say brokenly, “No, it’s just…just for—hmm—just—oh my God—”

“Shh,” he coos, chuckling lowly. “S’okay. I know it’s just for me. I know how much she likes it when Uncle Tommy kisses her like this.” He angles his hand and pushes it deeper inside of you, cock throbbing at the way you soak his fingers. “Give it to me.”

With a stuttering breath, you let out a salacious moan and your orgasm hits you hard. Your hands tug at the curling strands of his hair, your every muscle tenses, and your spine bends off the linoleum. His name falls so fucking beautifully from your sweet mouth, and Tommy wants to taste it. 

So he does. Slides up your body and presses a kiss to your lips. You whimper into his mouth and he swallows down the sounds of your bliss like fine wine. “There you go,” he whispers tenderly. His thumb on your clit doesn’t slow until he’s sure he’s pulled every last drop out of you. “S’that feel better, sweetheart?” 

You nod and giggle softly, a wide grin stretched across your face. The moment is filled with such happiness that it warms him from the inside out. 

And even though his cock aches, Tommy thinks this alone is enough to satiate him. Enough to curb that craving, just seeing your pupils blown wide and the pretty flush on your face. Knowing you’re fulfilled and content and that he’s the one who’d brought you to that high does wonders for his confidence. 

“You’re so good at that,” you say, and it makes him laugh. 

“Can’t get enough of you,” he explains, kissing you hard. “Could eat you all fuckin’ day and still feel hungry.”

Tommy laughs when you turn your head to press your face into your shoulder, hiding the way your nervous smile grows. 

“Don’t go gettin’ all shy on me now, darlin’,” he says, pressing his stubbled cheek to the side of your throat. He presses his lips to the curve of your jaw and grins when goosebumps form on the back of your neck. “Uncle Tommy just had your pretty pussy in his mouth. Least you can do is look him in the eye when he tells you how fuckin’ good it tastes.”

He can feel the way your spine bends, pressing your body firmly against his. But you’re a giggling mess beneath him, squealing at his filthy words as if worse hasn’t come out of your mouth.

“S’alright if you ain’t got nothin’ more to say,” Tommy tells you. “Gonna have to start from the beginning ‘til you learn to use your words again.” His mouth moves down the column of your throat, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone.

He’s slow in his pursuit, listening to the way your breaths become shallower and shallower as he lowers his head to the valley between your breasts. When he makes it to that sweet spot just below your navel, he stops.

“Wait,” you say, and he does. “I want…more.”

Tommy knows. He knows, and yet still, he urges, “Tell me, baby.”

“I want you.”

He thinks suddenly about the conversation you’d had on Joel’s back porch. The last time you’d admitted that you wanted him, that he’s all you wanted. Tommy doesn’t understand it, in truth. Will never understand what the fuck you see in him or why you not only give him the time of day but why you seek him out.

But what he does understand is this.

Tommy sees your need and matches it. Exceeds it.

You slide your hand down your body, fingers slipping through the wetness between your thighs. “Want you here,” you say. “I need it, Uncle Tommy.”

He knows he shouldn’t.

But you want him. And that’s the best high of all. 

“M’comin, sweet girl,” he promises. He leans back on his knees and grabs his shirt by the back of the collar, pulling it over his head. You watch him with half-lidded eyes as he undoes the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, and Tommy watches you. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs, shoving the denim down around his hips just enough to take his heavy cock out. 

You take him in your delicate hand and press his tip to your clit, sliding it slowly through your slick folds. Such a gentle movement, but it has his breath stuttering already, and Tommy has no fucking idea how he’s going to make this last. “Go slow,” you say. “Wanna feel every inch.”

Tommy notches himself at your entrance and does just as you ask. Pushes into you so carefully it’s almost painful. His every instinct urges him to surge forward, to split you open and bury himself inside of you. But the whimpers you make as you adjust to the stretch he creates keep his head on straight.

It’s the most pornographic image he’s ever seen, watching your sweet pussy greedily swallow up his cock. You’re so wet, dripping for him, and it makes these obscene sounds with each pressing inch that has Tommy’s heart beating hard against his sternum.

“Shit,” he hisses. “You feel so good, baby.” Once he’s fully seated inside you, his waist pressed against yours, Tommy rolls his hips, and the movement has you gasping. He can feel your walls clamp down around him, and it only spurs him on more. He does it again, a gentle pressure at the deepest part of you he can reach.

“It’s so—so big,” you whine, fingernails clawing at the back of his shoulders.

Tommy only smiles. Kisses your mouth tenderly and says, “You can take it. Hm? My perfect girl. Made just for me.”

One of his hands slide up the back of your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist, while the other comes to circle your clit. He can feel your body’s reaction, can feel the way you squeeze tight around his cock.

You nod frantically, the beginnings of tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You breathe out the word, “Yours,” and he feels his orgasm threatening already, building at the base of his spine. “I’m all yours.”

Tommy circles your clit and sets a steady pace. Fucks you slow, fucks you deep. Just how you need it, delighting in your moans. He presses his mouth softly to your temple, your cheek, and spends a little extra time with his teeth at that spot just behind your ear. “Look at me, baby,” he says, nudging his nose against yours.

When you do, your eyes are all starry in that way he loves, filled with awe. You’re the only person to ever look at him like that, with not an ounce of disappointment. It’s like you’re just happy he exists, and Tommy feels emotion build in his throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you say, and so he quickens his pace, circling your clit faster. “Don’t stop, God, I’ve—I’ve missed you so bad, Uncle Tommy.”

It’s the most dizzying thing he’s ever heard. It nearly tips him over that edge. But he needs to feel you first, needs to make sure you get everything you need. “Yeah, I know it,” he says tenderly, thrusting in deep. “Missed my baby, too.”

He thinks it’s an understatement. Feels wrong, saying he’s only missed you when he’s thought of nothing else.

Tommy knows you’re close, can feel the way you pulse around him, breathe stuttering. “That’s it,” he mutters. “You gonna cum for your Uncle Tommy? Hm?”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m—”

“S’good, baby,” he whispers against your mouth, keeping his rhythm. “So fucking good for me.”

Your moans echo off the walls as you reach that peak, thighs trembling around his hips. He can feel a rush of moisture against his cock and he tears a low sound from somehwere deep in his chest.

He doesn’t stop, chasing his own high, even when you start to squirm beneath him. His fingers stay circling your pretty clit, ratcheting the pleasure higher and higher until—

“My face,” you suddenly say. “Want you to cum on my face.”

Tommy thinks you’re going to be the death of him.

Perfect, filthy girl. 

He pulls out of you quickly, orgasm dangerously near. You prop yourself up, palms against the kitchen floor behind you, while Tommy takes his cock in his hand and squeezes. “Goddamn,” he groans. “Ask me nice.”

With the prettiest, most innocent smile, you say, “Cum on my face, Uncle Tommy. Please, please, please.” You stick out your tongue and look up at him, and that’s what does him in. The fucking love in your eyes.

Tommy cums hard, stroking his cock over top of you. Sticky, white ropes of his release coat your face, leaving splotches on your cheeks, your chin, down your chest. It’s disgusting. Easily the worst thing he’s ever done in all his life.

But when he’s finished and his cock begins to soften, you swipe the mess off your chin and push it onto your tongue and moan. Like it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. And any remorse he once had vanishes into thin air because how can he be sorry when you look so happy?

You giggle and say, “Guess I got that pearl necklace after all,” and Tommy has to look away to keep from laughing too hard.

He cleans you up with a hand towel and water from the kitchen sink, shoulders a little lighter. And once you’ve got his borrowed clothes back on, Tommy watches with reverence as you move around his kitchen as if you belong in it. 

You open the freezer and go right for the half empty carton of mint chip ice cream. It’s your first choice. Not expired eggs or stale cereal. 

Seeing it gives him a flicker of false hope. 

Because he knows he can’t be what you need forever. Knows he won’t keep you in the end, knows that whatever this is isn’t sustainable. But maybe he can just…keep you happy to the best of his ability. Just for now.

You only grab one spoon but offer him the first bite. “Mint chip is the best flavor by a fucking mile,” you say. “And anyone who says otherwise is delusional.”

“Keep that up when Sarah finds out it’s your favorite,” Tommy insists. “Cause she’ll fuckin’ tear you apart. Believe me, I know from experience.”

Laughter falls from your lips when he hands you the spoon. “Oh, I know. Was a victim of her chocolate chip cookie dough defense monologue, too.”

Tommy’s phone rings on the kitchen counter, and he swallows hard when he sees Joel’s name flash across the screen. When he answers, there’s a trace of alarm in Joel’s voice as he asks if he’s seen you. “Just a little concerned is all. Figured her phone’s dead or somethin’ but…haven’t heard back since last night. Just wanted to make sure she got somewhere safe.”

He’s never lied to Joel in all his life, and Tommy knows he would sense it the minute he tried. So he tells as much of the truth as he can. “Yeah, she uh…called me early this morning. Picked her up from that bar an’ let her crash on the couch. I’ll be bringin’ her home in a minute.”

You gather your things, and Tommy tries not to let that sliver of emptiness trickle in too fast. You’re still here, still with him, and this moment still belongs to you even at its close.

Like always, you sense his gloom before it’s even fully hit. And when he pulls into Joel’s driveway, you thread your fingers through his and say, “Stay for dinner. I miss you already.”

Tommy knows he shouldn’t. Knows that feeling lightheaded just from your words alone is a real problem for him.

But he’s never been good at telling you no.

taglist; @theretrofuturista @chuutu @gabymalikk @nana90azevedo @alidiggory92 @marisemonteiroo @ivyinthesun @hollowgracie @moyavsemoya @madadadison @polkadotsocks1993 @malewifejoelmiller @mmmunson @ssssc0m @skye-44 @tateypots @joelscowgirl69 @dbs5647 @cuntyhunty22 @thaliagracesgf @whossbunny @jamespotterismydaddy @whatdoyoumeanhesnapped @rainydayathogwarts @urfavhanna @subconsciouscollapse @worhols @joyridinginzombieland

[divider by @bernardsbendystraws]

[catcze]

NSFW !! 18+ ONLY

Cw afab reader & fem reader, self indulgent so reader is a cat girl w/ cat ears + tail, breeding, impregnation kink, size difference, married couple, giving him a baby for his birthday 👀

Happy birthday, Sylus ! ♡

Sylus, usually, is a man who prefers to make love over fucking. Who likes it slow, sensual— exploring your body with calloused hands and leaving worshipful kisses wherever his lips can reach. There isn't a single inch of your body that hasn't been loved by his kisses and his palms. And usually, Sylus is one who likes to savor each of your moans and the tight clench of your cunt around his cock with slow, languid thrusts before he gently pulls you over the edge with him.

But tonight seems to be an exception.

Each thrust is deep— deep enough to ache deliciously. The broad tip of his cock kisses your cervix without fail, punching the cutest little mewls from your throat, making you hug your pillow closer to your chest as your eyes roll in your head.

Sylus' big, broad hand is wrapped firmly yet carefully around your little kitty tail, using it to tug you back on his length whenever the overstimulation and constant pleasure has your fucked-out brain making you twitch forward, as if to escape his merciless onslaught of pleasure.

"Tell me what you said before, sweetie," comes his breathless, ragged murmur from above you, coaxing you to lift your teary eyes from the wet pillowcase, glancing over your shoulder at him. So pretty like this— eyes so full of love even when lost in the haze of pleasure.

Sylus groans at the sight beneath him, hilting inside you once more, and you squeak when he stays there, savoring in the warmth of being wrapped up by you.

His hand strokes your cheek gently, delighting in how you melt like putty in his palm. "There's my pretty kitty," he coos adoringly, his cock twitching. He can't hep it— you're just so damn cute. "Hm? What was it that you wanted to give me for my birthday, my love? Tell me again."

It's a struggle at first, with your tongue so heavy with pleasure and the twitch of his cock stretching you open, but you manage eventually— "A baby," you slur slightly, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. "Want— I wanna make you a daddy, Sy."

Just like the first time you said it, the words hit him like a punch in the gut and his breath leaves him in a hoarse exhale. Somehow, his cock gets even harder.

The mere thought of it —of you round and glowing with his baby in your tummy— just about pulls the rug out from under him. The only thing in his mind is filling you up so thoroughly with his cum that it takes.

He tugs again on your cat tail, grinding his hips deeper ( you feel him in your throat ) and you gasp, whining his name.

"Who am I to refuse a gift from my lovely wife?" He murmurs, other hand stroking reverently up and down the length of your spine, just to make you shiver. He grins when he sees how the cat ears at the top of your head flatten against your hair, how you tremble at the tone in his voice.

Adorable. Beautiful.

When he slowly pulls his cock back, it’s shiny from your arousal— pretty and glittering under the lights, marked by you. A ring of your cream circles the base of his cock, and he can’t help but groan under his breath knowing that he did that to you.

Right before you can whine, begging him back inside, Sylus pushes his full length back in in a single thrust, savoring in the wet, filthy sound when your bodies collide. All you can do is mewl as his rough pace starts back up, the sound of flesh meeting flesh resounding in the room, accompanied by your sweet little whines of his name, and Sylus’ grunts of exertion.

“Like that?” he gasps raggedly from above you, the hand not tugging at your tail tangling in your hair, scratching at where the base of your kitty ears meet your scalp. The sensation has your tail going stiff in his grasp, and Sylus laughs under his breath, knowing what he does to you. His voice drops, into something like a purr. A promise. “I’ll cum deep in your belly, sweetie. Breed you nice and deep, alright? I’ll be the daddy, and you can be our baby’s mommy. Sound good?”

"P-please—"

And oh, the way that you clench around him at that— the way that you whine so high pitched and needy, begging him— it has his head spinning. Another brutal thrust forward and your knees give way from the weight of his body pressing down into you. Your tummy meets the soft sheets of your bed, and Sylus follows you down with his chest pressed against your shoulder blades, pinning you to it.

Even with his brain consumed by desire and his very soul heavy with pleasure, he's still conscious enough to not lay all his weight on you, giving you room to breathe and not crushing your tail under his weight. Still so considerate, still so in love, even as he takes you apart at the seams.

You mewl, clutching your pillow tighter to your chest, so fucked out of your mind and drunk on the stretch of his cock but still wanting his baby inside you, begging for it each time you clench down when he thrusts in. Begging for it in the way you chant his name, in the way you beg for him to give you his baby.

Sylus grits his teeth, willing himself not to cum right then and there— forces himself to have an ounce of self control. But fuck if you’re not making it easy for him.

“Deep,” you gasp, delirious from the pleasure but still such a good little kitty for him, even as tears gather on your lashes. “Want it d-deep Sy— please—”

“Alright.” With a grunt, he buries his face into your hair as he continues to pound into you, fucking you into the sheets of your bed. The scent of your shampoo fills his nose and his lungs and his head with nothing else but you. Both hands on your hips now, fingers digging into the softness of your waist so tightly and so desperately that you’re sure to be sporting his marks tomorrow. If you want it deep, then deep is what he’ll give you.

He groans, wicked and wild and in love, and his cock pushes into your tight cunt once more, his whole weight behind the thrust. As deep as he can go, buried to the very hilt, with his base rubbing against your pussy lips. Deep enough that you whine his name, cunt squeezing around him as your tail stiffens, then your whole body goes limp, orgasm washing over you and leaving you glowing.

Sylus groans, your name honey-sweet as it drips from his lips, finding his own orgasm when he feels your cum coat his cock, dripping down onto the stained sheets. He stays seated as deep as possible inside you, breeding you the way you had so wished, pumping his cum into your willing pussy.

With a coaxing noise, he draws you into a passionate, loving kiss over your shoulder as he continues to fill you, hips bucking as you squeeze him of every drop he has to offer.

You mewl sweetly into the kiss, your cute little tail twitching weakly in delight as he swallows each of your noises hungrily. The fullness in your belly only grows and sneakily, his hand slips down to feel over your lower tummy as if he could feel his cum filling you up,

“Again,” he gasps when your lips part, a thin strand of spit stretched between your lips. His hand scratches at your hair again, and he moans when you clench down. “Just to make sure it takes, hm? Is that alright?”

And you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow. Certain that your legs are gonna ache and that sitting is going to be hell. But at the same time, with Sy’s hard cock still stuffed inside and the prospect of making sure it takes still heavy on your mind, your decision or already made.

“Again,” you murmur in agreement, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Let me give you a baby, Sylus.”

And oh, who is he to say no to you?

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dog with No Teeth // Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

Like deer meat picked off by carrion birds, you are plucked up during a scavenging raid by tactical-clad men all in black. There is no possibility of returning to your old life. You’re forced to assimilate, to conform to the remaining dredges of society. With that comes a choice: select someone to marry or the government will do it for you. You make the rash choice, selecting the skull-faced stranger that snatched you in the first place.

Overall Warnings: Post-Apocalyptic AU, dubcon, forced marriage, forced proximity, eventual lovers, breeding, pregnancy, canon-typical violence

Chapters: Ongoing

One // Two // Three // Four ** // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty // Twenty-One // Twenty-Two // Twenty-Three // Twenty-Four // Twenty-Five // Twenty-Six // Twenty-Seven // Twenty-Eight // Twenty-Nine // Thirty

** indicates a Community Label

ao3 // main masterlist

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

The bull hybrid fucked lazily into your fertile cunt, his breath hot against your neck as he squeezed your fat tits.

“Gonna get you knocked up, alright? Next time I squeeze your tits they’ll be squirting milk.”

He was right.

A few months later, he put his hand over your pregnant belly, cooing over the way your calf kicked against his palm.

His hands moved up to your tits, and he grinned as he squeezed them. Milk beaded at your perky buds before it squirted out of them, thick and sweet.

The bull hybrid latched onto one of your breasts, suckling as you took his cock.

“Told ya so, darlin’. Your milk tasted delicious.”

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

[bwabys-scenarios]

Illumi secretly loves watching you struggle to get around when your belly is all swollen and heavy during pregnancy.

The way you attempt to get something or walk for too long then look at him with a pouty face, begging for him for his help fills him with a sort of a possessive pride.

You need him. You’re completely dependent on him to take care of you at your most vulnerable, to protect and watch over you while your belly grows his baby.

And it gets him going.

He can’t help but rub your belly as he keeps you seated on his cock, scolding you when you whine or try to get up.

“Shh, settle down, darling. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

His long, pale lithe fingers massage your baby bump, dancing across it as his other hand helps to guide your hips up and down his cock.

“There we go, darling. My good girl, my precious one…”

Illumi just loves the sight of you helpless and pregnant…💗

[xazse]

Cw: Hybrids + smut + heat + Catboy!gojo x reader x Suguru + ART CREDS TO: @baobei-bu ON TUMBLR AND baobei_beh ON TWITTER (if you don’t like ur art posted by me lmk asap so i can delete it!!)

Catboy!gojo who’s so damn annoying during his heat, he makes sure to let his two owners know: you and Suguru.

He’s caught multiple times jerking off in the laundry room with your dirty panties inbetween his thick hands, he’s using them to stroke his fat cock over and over, and another pair up to his nose while he deeply inhales your scent and laving up the nonexistent juices with his tongue.

“He needs this, so badly” he pleads when you “scold” him and shoo him somewhere else.

He whines that everything hurts as Suguru soothes his back and tries to calm him down, he isn’t even trying to hide how he’s palming himself to just the soft circles Suguru decorates on his back.

The amount of clothes he goes through is insane, he’s always leaking fat droplets of cum in his underwear from the amount of times he’ll touch himself throughout the day, you’ll sometimes even help him by suckling on his reddened overstimulation tip, he groans out your name like a mantra, telling you how close he is and how fucking good it feels.

“Mm…h.. fuck-.. yes-“ he’s so damn close, don’t you dare stop using that wet warm mouth of yours, yes of course pay attention to his heavy balls they require attention too.

Eventually you’ll let him fuck your cunt for hours on end, the newly bought condom box is thrown across the room empty, you know you should be letting Satoru cum inside you this much but the sheer amount he produces just rips the condom.

“Toru…”

He uses his sharp teeth to pin you in place, his hips slamming down against your ass with each thrust, his eyes are rolling into the back of his head as he cums again for the whatever number you’re at already.

He loves being destroyed by Suguru’s fat length as well, folding his legs into an uncomfortable position but it’s not for Satoru, he loves when it hurts. Suguru isn’t gentle either, he fills Satoru to the brim and fucks him so good. It’s messy and nasty with the way he’s positioned Satoru’s cock spurts all over his own face, it arouses him a tenthfold and it’s not long before he’s hard all over again.

[kingkaisen]

彡 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒, & 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒!

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: There were a few rules Suguru Geto had to follow if he wanted to fuck you, Satoru Gojo’s girlfriend.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY — MDNI, fem reader, brief mentions of depression, smut, penetration, creampie, & brief oral.

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 ♡

It was a favor. A gift. Suguru had been utterly depressed for weeks at a time — the sort of despair that made him stay in bed all day and only speak when spoken to.

However, when you came around, a temporary light returned to Suguru’s brown eyes. A subtle smile pulled at his lips. And therefore, Satoru decided to, if you were willing, let his best friend sleep with you for one night.

Suguru slowly slid into your hole with a gasp, followed by a sharp inhale as your warm walls tightened around his cock.

“Shit,” he muttered, his long black hair dangling around your pretty head.

He was quick to build up a steady rhythm, not wanting to waste a second, while also desiring to appreciate this rare opportunity and savor every moment spent inside of you.

From a chair positioned in the corner of the bedroom, Satoru watched his best friend thrust in and out of you, pounding you into the king-sized mattress.

“Eye contact, Suguru,” Satoru directed, slouching in his seat, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair as his fist pressed against his cheek. “She likes it.”

Suguru’s dark eyes stared into yours as it became increasingly difficult to hold back his moans.

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ♡

“Let her hear how good she’s being, tell her,” Satoru’s eyes flickered over your bodies. He hooked his long finger over his blindfold and pulled off the black cloth. “She deserves to hear it, doesn’t she?”

“She does,” Suguru replied.

His finger stroked your sweaty forehead, and as he fucked you deeply, as you felt every inch of his cock, he said, “You’re taking me so well, pretty girl. It feels so good, I’m proud of you.”

A small moan escaped you, and a little smile appeared on not only Suguru's face but Satoru’s as well.

However, as pretty as your moans were, they were quickly interrupted by Suguru pressing his lips against yours. He swirled his tongue around yours with the intent of tasting every inch of your mouth, and in that moment, Satoru realized that his best friend was not only experiencing lust . . . but love.

However, that wasn’t breaking any of the current rules, so he’d worry about that later.

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 ♡

If another man was going to fuck you, then he had the responsibility of making sure you experienced a toe-curling orgasm.

That was fair.

“Are you ready to cum, baby?” Satoru asked you kindly as he leaned forward in his seat, but before you could respond, he turned his attention to Suguru. “Make her cum hard, got it? And if she wants to scratch up your back, let her. It just means you’re doing a good job.”

“I got it.”

Suguru’s confident reply was met with confident actions as well. He hooked his hand underneath your knee with great expertise and raised your leg just enough for you to feel his cock even deeper — in all the right spots.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your nails digging into his muscular back.

He adjusted his speed, fucking you harder and faster, and he too started to lose his composure as louder moans slipped out from between his lips.

“You’re going to make me cum too,” Suguru mumbled against your lips. He turned his head in Satoru’s general direction and asked, “Where can I cum, Satoru?”

“Inside. She deserves to be filled up, huh?”

Suguru couldn’t respond — not right now. Not when your pussy was practically milking him. He grabbed a fistful of the white sheets as you reached your blissful orgasm, clenching around him as shouts of his name escaped your throat, and that pushed him over the edge.

“I’m cumming,” he announced, nearly choking on his words.

As his own orgasm washed over him, he pressed his lips against yours once again. Cumming felt like an out-of-body experience — as if he was losing control of himself, and swirling his tongue around yours as he pumped himself inside of you made him feel grounded.

Suguru’s sweaty black hair stuck to his skin when he pulled away from your body.

“What a show,” Satoru said. Getting out of his chair, he approached the side of the bed and started to unbuckle his pants.

The white-haired man smiled down at you.

“Are you ready to take both of us now?”

When you nodded eagerly, the two men wasted no time flipping you over. Suguru lined himself up with your pussy once again, gripping your hips as he eyed your backside, while Satoru guided his cock towards your open mouth.

“I have a rule for you now, sweetheart. Two, actually.” Satoru’s dick slid across your wet tongue as he spoke to you. “When I cum, make sure you swallow every last drop of it. And more importantly, remember that you belong to me.”

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @ellaumbrella1 @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl

[catcze]

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !! — Sylus. fem&afab reader, he fingers u good morning, banter, lovesick Sylus ♡

Thinking thoughts rn about waking up on the first morning of the new year to Sylus’s kisses on your face and his hand on your inner thigh with his fingers trailing higher and higher with each second. The way he hums when he feels you stir awake, the way he grins into your lips when you kiss back against him, still sleepy but so willing to return his affection.

“Let’s start the new year with a bang, shall we?” He asks, crimson eyes sparkling with coyness— and you laugh, because you’re too sleepy to tell if that was a pun, an innuendo, both, or something in between. You just know that goodness, you love him so much.

And Sylus huffs, because he wasn’t expecting you to be laughing at him when you should be gasping his name. His hand slipping under your sleep shorts remedies that, however, and soon your laughter dissolves into a soft gasp of arousal when his broad hand cups your pussy, roughened fingers stroking your folds through the fabric of your cotton panties.

Sylus groans alongside you, feeling the way you respond to him so beautifully— your pussy knows who’s taking care of her, and she’s already growing wet under his simple touch.

“You laugh, but you’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, hot breath brushing across your lips. “Do you want me to do something about it, baby? Hm?”

A whine is pulled from your throat when he pushes more insistently against your panties, stroking you just a touch rougher now, teasing your little cunt. “Yes,” you mewl, voice still rough from the haze of sleep. “Sylus, don’t fucking tease—”

“Manners,” he scolds, though he grins. His other hand lightly taps your thigh. “Is that any way to say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’?”

You scowl up at him, displeased at being treated like a little kitten who’s merely showing her claws, though the haze of pleasure that clouds your eyes dulls the edge of it. “Please fuck me, before I shoot you again. Thank you.”

And the bastard laughs, the sound sending shivers up your spine.

“Yeah, alright. Wouldn’t want to start the year with that kind of bang,” Sylus concedes, because he always concedes when it comes to you. His fingers tug the seat of your panties aside as they finally delve into the soft slickness of your pussy, two fingers dipping into your cunt, and you whine. He grins, seeing how your eyes flutter shut and your body shudders.

“Just relax,” he murmurs to you, over the sound of you whimpering his name as his fingers push deeper, up to his knuckles now, and the way your hand darts to his wrist, pulling him close, begging for more. “Just lay there and look pretty, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Full on nasty smut soon I swear let me just get motivated enough to finish it lol

Comms [ ♡ ]