#Darling Darling... Devious! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madamechrissy · 1 month ago

Text

Lead It Southbound

Pairings - Pornstar! Satoru x F! reader x OF Star! Nanami

Warnings - ridiculously filthy mmkay, cum swallowing (m and f) oral (m and f recieiving) anal, double penetration, a TON of jealousy, possessive as fuck Satoru, yearning and pining Nanami, they're competitive you're their little toy, filming porn, double creampies, porn without plot, they're both so obsessed with you

This is so filthy, an alt universe with reader from Baby You're a Star, with secret Onlyfans star Nanami and Pornstar Satoru. It's not part of the story! But more a WHAT IF situation, where Nanami and Satoru shared you on camera WC- 4.5k

Nanami Kento is gripping your hips, dragging your slick cunt against his face, while Satoru Gojo is kissing your lips, gripping your chin with his slender fingers so tightly, while your cries fill the room and echo, mixing with the squelching of your cunt.

You can't even fathom how you got here

When Nanami’s long tongue flicks up to your clit, you gasp out, whining into Satoru's mouth, tasting the sweetness of his lips, only for him to pull back and pout them then, dilated blue eyes glaring under snowy lashes.

"You better not like that more than my mouth," he huffs, scowling even deeper as Nanami's tongue flicks right on your clit, and he's gripping your chin tighter, all while you're struggling not to scream, already knowing how mad he is. "You don't, do you?"

"Mnh! N-Nanami!" is your weak response, as you can't hear him, body convulsing with Nanami groaning against you, vibrating right on your clit. He's pressing his cock against the mattress, leaking pre while tasting you on his tongue, coating his tastebuds as you grip his sandy blond locks. Nanami's been dreaming of tasting you, so he doesn't miss a single drop from your soppy hole. "Ah!" You cry out again, pretty breasts heaving up and down with your breaths while his tongue dances against your sensitive cunt.

"My turn," Satoru says, glaring down at you again. But Nanami chuckles softly, unmoving, simply slipping a thick digit in your cunt while his sandy blond hair falls over his brow, sweating from the exertion of lapping at you. He raises a thin brow, eyeing Satoru with a devious smirk. Nanami seemed like a gentleman, but he certainly ate pussy like a fiend. "I'll eat her pussy way better than you."

"Huh," Nanami drags his fingers down your waist and hips, pressing kisses up your body. "Doubt that."

Nanami can't help but suck your tiny clit into his mouth again instead of listening, moaning as your cunt gushes down his mouth and even his chin, dripping down his neck as you tug at his hair, and Satoru kisses your lips. "Focus on me," he whispers, and you look up at him, fading in and out, forgetting this is streaming right now. "Off her."

Nanami relents, scowling at Satoru now, yanking you by your chin with his rougher fingers, while Satoru shoves your thighs up, lips glossy as he licks them, salivating at the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide. Kento is kissing you with your sweet arousal all over his tongue, hands drifting to your breasts and twisting a nipple. Satoru slips two long fingers in your cunt then, stretching you out, you feel every ridge of his fingers in your gummy walls when he curls them up and hits just your spot, making you scream out, which earns Nanami's scowl at him.

"My fingers are longer, sorry. Oh, look she loves them." Satoru says with a wicked smirk, curling them again, your cunt drools down his fingers as the pressure hits your tummy, when Nanami wraps a hand around your throat, thumb over your pulse point.

"Mine are thicker, aren't they darling?" Your answer is just a weak whimper, cunt pulsing around Satoru's fingers then, while the two of them scowl at each other but endlessly kiss and bite and suck on your delicate skin.

"She likes mine better, don't you sweets?" Satoru murmurs, while you blink his pretty face into focus, when Satoru laps his long tongue over your slit and hits your twitchy little clit finally, eliciting a loud whine from you that makes Nanami furious.

Satoru and Nanami do not want to share you, even for the camera, even to make bank off it, no they're so greedy, and they both want your pretty pussy to themselves. But for just a moment they work together, Nanami pinching your nipples and gently choking you with a firm grim. Satoru is holding up your hood, long pink tongue slipping into your aching hole. All you can do is grasp at them both, blond hair and silvery locks in your hands, whining out and arching your back as you lose oxygen, making your ears ring.

"That's it darling, make as much noise as you want," Nanami murmurs, while Satoru's stupidly long fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes you blind while the insane stream, full of both of their fans, captures it all, captures you cumming and drenching Satoru's pretty face in it.

All their worship, Satoru's desperate and hungry kisses, Nanami's bites and huffs overwhelm you as he releases your throat now, they move you like you're nothing, their little toy to play with, a toy neither wants to share. Satoru is constantly making sure your eyes are on him, constantly biting you to get your attention when it travels to Nanami's hazel gaze.

"I'm fucking her first," Satoru murmurs huskily, while you're on your hands and knees, fingers gripping the soft silk sheets as Satoru grabs your hips, Nanami chuckles then.

"Gonna stretch her out a bit for me?"

"My cock is way bigger, tell him baby," Satoru bends over you, pulling your hair gently, while the ring lights glow against the three of you, casting shadows of you all along the wall, you're about to have a cock in your mouth and your cunt, something you never thought you'd do. But it's heady, addictive, the shit they're talking only making you more eager to please. "How good do I feel?"

"S'good, Satoru..." You whine out, when his tip leaking as he presses into your cunt, smacking your ass and gripping your hips bruising. You know Satoru's cock, you know how full he stuffs you, how good it feels. The camera knows him fucking you, but Nanami's cock makes you swallow nervously as it's revealed, thick and so heavy it just hangs there. "Oh!"

"Don't get so excited, brat." Satoru smacks your ass again, grinning as he watches his handprints, before shoving his cock deep in one stroke, making you scream out, back arching, while Nanami gently strokes your cheek, chuckling deeply.

"Do you want it in your mouth, love?" you nod eagerly, tongue out and mouth wide, earning the precum to leak out of his reddened tip, while Satoru hisses, feeling you clench for him. "Say please, like a good girl-"

"Oh hell no, she won't say please, psh," he pulls your hair, making your face pull back from the thick, veiny cock, while Satoru's long cock strokes deep and hard, bruising your cervix. "She only says that to me, isn't that right?"

"She can be a good girl for me, she wants to be." Nanami cups your face with two hands, tip brushing precum like a gloss, while you're stuffed so full, looking up at him under your lashes. His heart races at how pretty you are, the only thing that would make this better is if Satoru wasn't here.

He gets it, you're his - for now.

Your tongue slips up his tip while Satoru grips both of your wrists behind you, pinning them and arching your back more for a brutal thrust. "Stop talking shit and caressing her Nanami," he whispers, before whining out as he feels your cunt gripping him like a vise. "It's a shoot, don't get too clingy."

Nanami ignores Satoru completely, opening your mouth with his thumb, pressing it down on your tongue, you suck on his thumb, making Nanami even more sensitive, fuck he's thought of this for so long, even the idiot behind you wasn't ruining it. "Go ahead, darling, tell me what you want."

"Let me suck you, please - ow!" You glare back at Satoru as he smacks your ass hard, slap stinging, and he just grins, before Nanami grips you by your throat, sliding his cock inside your hot mouth, groaning when he feels it enwrapping him. "Mmm..."

"That's it, sweet girl, you're so perfect," Nanami murmurs, feeling the bulge in your throat as you suck him down, while Satoru slams hard into your cunt, tugging at your waist tightly, as if to make sure you don't forget you're his, and that this is for a shoot, but Nanami's just staring at you, murmuring a mix of sweetness and filth that has you breathless, along with Satoru's perfect strokes, knowing just how to roll his hips to make you fall apart.

"Cum for me, sweetheart, huh? Be a good girl," Satoru murmurs, reaching up to spread your cheeks, spitting a sticky, bubbly trail from his mouth to your ass, slipping just his thumb in as Nanami shoves his cock deep, gagging you, while you cum so hard you can't thing, drooling out of your mouth and your cunt while the two men begin to lose themselves, moaning as they fuck your holes.

You didn't add getting spitroasted by two of the most popular Onlyfans stars there were to your bucketlist, you also didn't plan on being Nanami Kento's first debut of his actual face either. But here you are, glasses fogged up, wearing nothing but a pretty glittery body chain, that Satoru uses to tug tighter along your body, while you're twitching, a mess between their huge cocks, their hungry gazes and greedy grips.

The stream is going wild, but none of you seem to remember, the competition ever going as Satoru laughs, beads of sweat dripping down his face onto your spine. "I make her cum so good, don't think you could hit that spot, Nanami."

"Oh, you're right, I'll stretch her out more, it's good you warmed her up for me." His mean little smile is met with him pulling his cock out of your mouth with a suctioned pop, while Satoru scoffs, fucking into you harder. The smacks are echoing in the room as he tugs, bringing you to your knees now, while Nanami kisses his own precum off you, messy and sloppy, his hands possessive on your waist. "You want me to stretch your perfect little cunt, don't you darling?"

"She wants more of my cock, don't you sweets?" Satoru turns your face, tongue devouring your mouth, you gasp when Nanami lifts you up and plants you the opposite direction, now facing Satoru, who's kissing you desperate, whining out when you stroke his cock, slick with your arousal and his precum, he's lost in how gorgeous you look like this, covered in marks, tears in your eyes as he gently takes off your glasses for you. "You good baby?"

"Y-yes, just intense," your whisper doesn't go unnoticed by Nanami, who brushes your hair back, slipping a hand down your spine soothingly, as he presses little kisses on your shoulder blades, and Satoru is standing, his pretty, perfect cock bouncing just slightly, while you lap yourself off him. "Mmm, Toru..."

"You sure you're ready for this, baby?" Satoru murmurs softly, snowy lashes lowered, despite them being filthy, and competitive, they're both attentive to you right now.

"I can eat you out again if you're not ready, I could do it all night, love." Nanami's words make you melt, biting your lip as you look back at him, when Satoru turns your face back to face his glossy cock.

"You won't get to all night, Nanami."

"You're so threatened, you good, Gojo?" Nanami and Satoru scowl over you, and you can't help but giggle, shaking your head at them.

"I'm ready for it," your soft answer draws both their attention, and soon Kento's thick cock presses into you, thank god you were prepared from Satoru - who's longer, and just a little thinner, but how Nanami feels burns in the best way, your moan is drowned out by Satoru's cock, as he shoves in deep right with him. Your thighs shake as he inches in slow, letting you adjust, while he groans out behind you, huge hands gripping your hips.

"F-fuck, you're so tight," Nanami can't stop his groan, while Satoru cries out as your tongue hits the base of his cock, fucking your tight throat while Nanami slips in and out of your cunt, slapping his heavy cock on your ass and moaning as he watches the precum decorate your skin, before easing back in, exhaling. "Feel so good, fuck..."

"Doesn't she?" Satoru smiles, lovingly gripping that chain, pressing it up around your throat, the metal digging in while he thrusts his narrow hips, and Nanami bottoms out, making you tremble as you try to take him, his tip pressing into a sore cervix. Your hands cling to Satoru's thighs, looking up at his pretty blue eyes while he wrecks your esophogus, caressing you with his free hand. Nanami thrusts sharply then, balls slapping against you, making your eyes roll back. "Fuck, look at you," he murmurs, watching as you fall apart.

The comments and tips are insane, fans watching Nanami Kento fuck for the first time and with the Satoru Gojo and his favorite co-star, what they don't know is how long and how badly Nanami's wanted you. Craved you, and fuck you're better than he could have pictured, wetter, the snuggest fucking fit for his girth, and when he reaches around to find your clit, bending over you, rough pads of his fingers moving in circles, your tummy clenches. You feel it, an orgasm about to hit hard, while the two men fuck into you, Satoru gripping your face in place while your tongue slips across the ridge of his cock before slipping into your throat.

The stream is a mix of women dying to be you right now, and men dying to be inside of you, a heady mix while Nanami makes you cum all over his cock, squirting down the bed, earning his surprised, pleased groan. Satoru's eyes flutter shut as you do, feeling your throat close on his cock as you're choking on him, muffling all your moans while you soak the sheets with all your cum.

"Look, you're cumming so much, for me aren't you?" Satoru glares again over your body, bent over on all fours for them.

"It's because she loves feeling me down her throat, isn't that right baby?"

You're expected to talk!?

There's no talking as you're dripping down Nanami's cock and fingers, slobbering all over Satoru's length, entire body shaking while your nails press into the pale skin on Satoru's strong thighs, feeling the force of Nanami's thrust.

"God, you're making such a mess, love," Nanami's words are followed by him sucking your juices off his thick digits, easing back and slipping out, you feel so empty for just a moment, until Satoru's flipped it all around, he's letting you kiss and ride Nanami's cock, his hands slipping up your waist, while Satoru is sinking two fingers in your other hole again, stretching you out, while you're riding him, moreso he is holding you up, shoving his cock up inside, skin slapping while Satoru wraps an arm around your waist, lips against your ear, tickling your skin.

"Mine," Satoru murmurs in your ear, sinking those fingers so deep while Nanami slams you down his length, fucking mean up into you while you're gasping for a breath, feeling so full. "All mine, hmm?"

His words are quiet, you're nodding weakly, on another video you two had shared your girl friend, Jenna, and Satoru and her had competed on just who could eat your pussy better - but this competition was beyond what you were comprehending. When Satoru has his fingers curling in your puckered little hole, and it feels so good, rubbing against where Nanami's veiny cock was pressing, feeling their eyes and hands all over your body, now covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Riding cock so perfect, fucking look at you, baby." Satoru urges you on, you're crying out weakly, head falling back against his collar bone, while he sinks his teeth into your neck. Nanami wants your attention, however, thrusting up deep enough to knock your head forward, and your dilated eyes look at him, intoxicated and perfect.

"You're doing so good for me," Nanami whispers, finding your clit as Satoru grips your breasts that bounce gently as you ride Nanami, the sensations of being touched everywhere making you listless and weak, you weren't putting in any movements for the camera, no the two men moved you, up and down, gliding on Nanami's cock, as Satoru presses on your other hole, splitting you apart so good you're trembling trying to take them both.

"God, your ass is so tight, fuck baby," Satoru's whining as he stretches out your tight ass inch by inch, being so careful with you, while you lay forward on Nanami, kissing him again, feeling the pressure of both of them in both your holes, so intense you can barely make any of those sexy moans, just gasping. "You good, sweets?"

"Are you all right, love?" Nanami and Satoru ask at the same time, scowling at each other even now, as you breathlessly whine out, nodding.

"S'good, it's... you're both so big I..."

The stream is losing it collectively at the Double Penetration scene in front of them, getting a view of Satoru stretching your ass inch by inch, while Nanami thrusts up into your cunt, moaning and tugging you back down, kissing you again. You whine out into his lips, just to have your hair pulled, Satoru fucking his long, thick cock further in your ass, so much pressure as their cocks rub between your thin layer separating them, stretching and filling you to the brim. "Ah!"

"Look at me," Satoru kisses you again, cupping your face, sliding out of your ass that's so lubed up with his spit, shoving in deeper until you scream, and he has a devious white grin. "Good girl, got your attention, huh?"

You nod weakly, when Nanami shoves his cock fully in, until you're close to cumming again, while he works your clit in methodical circles, earning your weak, lidded gaze, Nanami can't stop looking at your fucked out face, feeling your cunt soaking and milking him. Only, Satoru needs to look at your face too, to watch your mouth part in that slutty O, when he spits right inside your mouth, murmuring - 'swallow, pretty'

Nanami keeps dragging you down on him, while Satoru yanks you up, both fucking in tandem, Satoru's hands on your waist, Nanami's on your ass, spreading you even wider for Satoru's cock. They're whispering, murmuring, fucking wet and loud, smacks and squelching echoing for the camera, their moans husky - mixed with Satoru's whimpers he can't control.

"God, baby, wanna fill you up here, c-can I?" Gone is notorious Pornstar Satoru, replaced is whiny, needy Satoru, the boyish pout as he begs to cum in you there, you heat up to the touch, flustered and blushing, your hair falling across your face, which he brushes back. You try to find the energy to answer, to speak, while the pleasure is overwhelming and blinding.

"Y-yes, if you want to, Toru," your whisper ends him, he moans, biting your shoulder, tearing the skin and leaving his mark, while Nanami slips a hand up between your breasts, going to choke you only for Satoru's hand to slip around your throat, under your chin, until both of their hands wrap your throat, sucking the last bit of oxygen from your lungs, making you feel fucking high as they both bottom out at once and you're about to fall off the edge.

You weakly cling to Satoru's arms with one hand, the other on Nanami's thick, muscled chest, feeling the strength as the two huge, strong men fuck you and choke you, the chains falling against your skin, scraping softly, leaving marks as you're pressed between them.

"Wanna fill your perfect pussy so full." Nanami's words barely register, but Satoru scowls at him.

"Nuh uh." Nanami scowls back, while they loosen their grip, giving you just a breath before their cocks move out and back in, different timing, in and out, in and out, so fucking good you're shuddering, blinded by pleasure, you can't remember your own fucking name until they're both whispering it.

"Lemme cum inside her, fuck... double creampie - you know f-for the cameras..." now Nanami's voice is desperate, you swear you hear him whimper. Satoru scoffs, slamming his length hard inside you, making you jolt, while he's pulsing, so close he can't take it.

"Baby, only if you push all his cum out after," you nod weakly at Satoru's whisper, and he pulls out his entire length, only to shove it all back in, so deep you feel him everywhere, while Nanami eyes the bulge of his cock in your stomach, feeling so feral and possessive.

"Want my cum inside you, love? Look, already fucking filling you up," his husky depraved whisper is nothing like you thought he would be, gentlemanly sweet Nanami at work - and here he is now, palm flat on the bulge his cock is making, pressing against your soft tummy as he throbs in your gummy walls, fluttering around him. "Then say please-"

"She sure won't, she'll only beg for me, tell him pookie," Satoru whispers, how the man is cute with nine fucking inches stuck up your little hole, you can't compute. You just whine, whispering his name, earning his satisfied smirk. But, Nanami isn't quite done yet, picking your hips up and slamming his cock deep, groaning as he grips you, making you clench Satoru's cock harder, until he feels himself ready to bust. "F-fuck, baby..."

"God, you feel so - f-fuck..." Nanami's leaned up and sitting now, kissing up one side of your neck, gripping one breast, while Satoru bites the other side of your neck, groaning as he grips your other breasts. They're squeezing you, pulsing inside you so deep, while you weakly rock your hips, orgasm ripping through your entire body, you're trembling and shaking as it hits, blinded and floating when the two men can't take how good your orgasm feels, both busting at the same fucking time.

They're groaning and gripping you so tightly you can barely breathe, you feel Nanami's thick, girthy cock pouring inside your sore, slutty little cunt, while Satoru's painting your other hole full, hot spurts filling you so intimately, while he possessively bites your neck again, while white ropes pump you full, you're leaking it right down Nanami and Satoru's cock as the pull out, and you almost collapse if not for the two of them catching you.

"Darling, are you okay?" Nanami murmurs, brushing your cheek back carefully, like he hadn't meanly been pumping his length inside you, you nod weakly, while Satoru eases out of you with a hiss, turning your body toward him.

"Baby, you feel good?" You nod again, swallowing with a dry throat while he exhales, pressing a heated kiss on your lips. "You good doing this shot? We don't have to."

"I'm good, j-just... how do I push it out?" You whisper, they both chuckle a bit, earning your own glare. "Don't you two Pros make fun of me for not knowing!"

"No, you're just cute. C'mere." Satoru bends you over the bed, Nanami gently presses a little kiss on your head, murmuring in your ear now.

"Just press a bit, here," he whispers, pressing on your lower tummy with his big hand. You moan softly, nodding, Satoru's on his knees, sinking into the plush carpet as he gets the perfect angle, hands gripping your ass and lifting it, showcasing the white creamy cum oozing from both your beat up holes.

"Fucking look at all of it, you took so much baby." Satoru murmurs, toying with his own cum that's dripping from your hole, while Nanami keeps sneaking kisses while Satoru is focused, your little giggle makes him realize, ending the stream and standing. "Excuse me, no more. Ah- ah." He smacks at Nanami's hand, reaching for your pussy again.

"How'd we do, Toru?" You ask softly, while Nanami eases you up, brushing your hair back and just staring at you with those hazel, lidded eyes, lips parted while Satoru peers at the numbers, whistling softly.

"Holy fuck. Look." You peer and your eyes go wide, it's more than even Satoru and you make, but Nanami doesn't bother looking at it, he's too enraptured with his cum leaking from your pretty pussy, fingering the sticky substance slowly. You squeak a bit at it, Satoru sets the phone down, shoving at the big hulk of a man lapping his own cum off his finger. "Stream is over, Nanami."

"Shouldn't we help clean her up, Gojo?" Nanami flicks his tongue on your overstimulated clit, tasting the mix of you and moaning.

Satoru sighs then. "Bend over, sweetheart."

Satoru's words surprise you, soon you're being eaten out by both of them, lapping their own cum out of your holes off camera, messy and fucking filthy, cum dripping out of their mouths as they moan, while you're pushing more of their cum, rocking back and forth on their mouths, gripping each of their napes of their neck and fucking their faces.

"What about something... off set?" Nanami whispers, teeth nipping your clit, Satoru moans, cock ready to go again, feeling your body tremble between the two of them. "If you want, darling."

"Your choice, baby." Your hips jerk as Satoru touches you, your thighs trembling.

"Yes, please," You kiss the cum off Nanami's lips, before kissing Satoru, cum swapping between the three of your mouths, before their fingers are both inside your sore little cunt at once, the money wracks up as the threesome goes wild, but the two men clearly aren't done fighting for who can make you cum harder, and you can't complain as you're dazed, fucked out and drooling on both of them.

Satoru is sure he's won, but Nanami thinks he just might have a chance with you, when you're squirting all over him again, he could swear he made you cum more than Satoru, but he'll keep it to himself.

For now.

Hope you enjoyed the fucking filth ahahah <3

perm tagsss- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny

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tonycries · 1 year ago

Text

Initiation!

Synopsis. “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote this…

Art by @_3aem on X.

Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru weren’t around.

Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.

Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house.

You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost.

An excited exclamation of “There’s our all-new sweetheart!”. And the world tilts.

Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne.

“Careful, there, Satoru. Wouldn’t wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.”

A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. “Havin’ a lotta fun without us, huh?”

Oh, you’d recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. “Sweetheart? Me?”

To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.”

Satoru’s eager voice chimes in, “As presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.”

“Mmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?” face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two.

Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.”

Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, “Hmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?”

---

The consequences aren’t half as fun as the chaos.

Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.

Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.

Satoru.

Slight panic setting in, and Satoru’s room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..

“---blast at the party------”

“------frat---sweetheart.”

Head snapping up in a daze, the word “sweetheart” echoes in your ears.

Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together.

Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight

“Well, well, look who’s finally awake - our dear sweetheart.” Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.

Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesn’t exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker.

You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.

Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. “How’s our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, y’know. Was almost worried you’d miss the initiation~”

“What the fuck did I agree to?” you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, “Just a little test of courage, darling. But don’t you worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”

Satoru nods, his gaze intense. “It’s all in good fun, princess. You’ll see.” His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. “Now, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”

Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldn’t deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.

A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?

The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away.

One. Two

Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod.

Darkened blue eyes meet Suguru’s half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.

Oh.

Oh, shit. You were in for it.

Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost don’t register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.

Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. “Shhh, relax, darling. We’ll take care of everything.”

Maybe it was the way Suguru’s words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.

Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasn’t the alcohol.

“T-Toru- Sugu-” a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.

A hand hot on your thigh - Suguru’s or Satoru’s? You don’t have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening.

Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoru’s carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.

“Shit. Suguru, look at this.” Satoru’s groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..

“Oh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lil’ slut.” Suguru’s smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.

You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. “Please, Sugu.”

“Now now. Behave, darling. Wouldn’t want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.” Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoru’s iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.

And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy.

“I’ll be taking this as payment, princess.” he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguru’s hands. As if a prize to be won.

Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.

You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadn’t even taken off their goddamn shirts yet.

Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-

Bang!

Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoru’s sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-

“Aww, already started without me?” a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. “Shit, these two brats weren’t kiddin’, you’re such a doll, aren’t you?”

Satoru’s smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door.

Toji Fushiguro.

Someone you’d heard of more than you’d seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.

The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Toji’s trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.

Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half.

Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks.

“Oh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.” Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.

“Yo, old man. Catch.” Satoru’s voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is. “M’gonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.”

“Don’t count us out now, Toji. I’ll be making sure she’s absolutely ruined.” Suguru’s slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.

Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesn’t speak.

Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

“Hah- Oh! Toru!” you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoru’s lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue.

He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hope you didn’t forget us, darling. I’d be heartbroken.” Suguru’s mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoru’s dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core.

“Don’t move, doll.”

And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.

All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguru’s cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.

Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought he’d be the nice one?

Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, “Open your mouth.”

As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldn’t be doing.

Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. “Now, show me what those pretty lips can do.” Toji grits out.

Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face.

Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.

Nervous eyes flitting between Toji’s bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguru’s wrist, and Satoru’s hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - you’re sure of one thing - you’d be damn lucky to make it out alive.

Toji’s throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.

“C’mon now. If you’re actin’ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.” Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe you’ll become his favorite fucktoy.

Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Toji’s heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. “Mmm fuck yeah.” he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat.

Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-

“Look s’pretty gagging on his cock, darling.” Suguru’s voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.

“F-fucking freak.” Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. “Oh? You like that, doll? Little slut, aren’t ya?”

A dangerous chuckle, and he’s thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Toji’s hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.

Shit, he was going to break you.

Suguru’s clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldn’t with your clit. Over and over-

“Suguru, gimme the bra.” you whine, hips bucking as Satoru’s muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.

In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoru’s tongue.

Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoru’s throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.

Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Toji’s heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat.

He didn’t care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.

The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful.

So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse.

Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru.

Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoru’s still merciless tongue, and Suguru’s index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard.

Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think you’re in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.

“You alright, darling? Can’t have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.” Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.

“Mmm- s’fucked out. Ah-” Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off?

Satoru isn’t too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.

You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.

Suguru’s hand stroking your face, Satoru’s on your hips.

“After all that princess, you deserve a little treat.” Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands.

“T-treat? Wha-”

Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself.

Fingers intertwining with your tongue, you’re delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection.

Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?

“Fuck, darling. Really should’ve done this sooner.” he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. “Mhm. You don’t know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you can’t speak, princess~” a whisper from behind you - Satoru.

Before you know it, Satoru’s lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will.

Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass.

Every twirl of Suguru’s finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoru’s tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act.

Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy.

Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.

“Fucking freaks.” Toji spits out, eyeing Satoru’s fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.

Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him.

In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they won’t stop until they’ve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation.

Maybe you really were a little slut.

Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied.

Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you.

Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Toji’s fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs.

“Suguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Don’t think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive. Maybe you didn’t want to.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguru’s fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. “Fuck s’tight. So tight, princess.”

Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?

Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru.

Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. “Now, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Don’t be greedy.” And at that last word, Suguru’s leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends.

“Just getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. She’s begging for it.” you moan at Toji’s impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. You’re fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks.

Satoru’s hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you.

Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.

“S’alright hah- Fuck!” Suguru can barely get the words out, you’ve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.

You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake.

“Oh- oh fuck. Can’t- Too much. Hngh-” Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friends’ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts.

You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.

Filthy. Fucking filthy.

And the only place you wanted to be right now.

Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you don’t even know if what you’re feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore can’t even speak.”

Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Toji’s twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. “Jus’ like that, doll. Yeah-”

You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Toji’s squelching have your head spinning.

A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.

“Oh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.”

“Nasty girl. You love this, don’t you?” Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.

“Y-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-”

With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.

More. More. More more more more-

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoru’s strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.

“F-fuck, darling. Gonna-”

All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison.

“Hngh- M’cumming. Oh, god m’cumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.”

Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like you’ll explode.

Cock-drunk, you’re dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.

Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven.

“Switch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.”

You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.

Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need.

“Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.

Slowing to a stop, “Now, what do you say?”

“Th-thank you, daddy.”

Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. It’s all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and you’re thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguru’s hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.

He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. “Don’t think the initiation’s done yet, darling.”

Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoru’s hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. “Oh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.”

“Don’t cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think we’re about to have another initiation coordinator.”

What?

Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation.

Closer. And closer.

The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway.

Nanami Kento.

The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up one’s ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right.

His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like he’s ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption.

“What are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.”

In the twinge of disappointment, you can’t help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And won’t stop till you’re not.

“If you’re going to initiate her then show no mercy.”

The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoru’s burning whisper in your ear.

“Welcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.”

A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??

Plagiarism not authorized.

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chthonicchromestudio · 4 months ago

Note

Hey sorry if this comes across as pushy, not my intention at all but do you have an estimate of when the dlc will be available on steam? I'm super eager to purchase it and just want to know if it will be a few days off or rather a few weeks off 😇

It depends entirely on Steam when they approve the page and then the build :D

#ddd #Darling Darling... Devious!

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manmuncher777 · 3 months ago

Text

How the jjk men would react to an aphrodisiac

Toji -

Being brutally honest, I love a dom man. But I think he would get a little subby. Being such a brat because you forget to tell him about the special chocolates you had bought and now hes been fucking aching for you all day. Then you had the audacity o be at work for the whole day.

“Fuck baby, gonna kill me” the giant of a man was basically whimpering beneath you, splayed out on your couch like a slut while you rode him half to death. Hips slamming down brutally against his thick thighs with all your might, doing your best to get him off.

Your slick now dripping all over his thighs as you rode him, your thighs burning and arms aching but you never slowed.

Toji could do nothing but take it, he had been thinking about this all day. And it was so much better than he imagined it rendered him almost paralysed. Forearm flung over his eyes as he grits his teeth as the feeling of your sloppy cunt swallowing him over and over again, your position allowing his bulbous tip to kiss your cervix. Stretching yourself over his thick cock. It’s like his sense were multiplied, usually he would bent you over and fucked into you until you were a drooling mess. But this time he was the drooling mess, as soon as you sunk down onto him he knew it was endgame

Hearing your big strong boyfriend whimper beneath you turned you on far more than you thought, each movement you made dead set on pulling the most pathetic noise from him.

“S-shit~ haa~” he hissed out at a particularly cruel squeeze of your pussy.

Oh how he wished he could watch you, your flushed face staring at him, tits bouncing with each grind of your hips, but he knew the second he stared into those glossy eyes he would be done for.

“What wrong baby?”You questioned, slowing your movements to teasing drags.

“F-fuck you doll.” He gritted out, hips pathetically bucking into yours trying to chase his pleasure

“Awh im trying baby.” You giggled

Shit that was music to his ears, he never usually lets you lead. But hes thinking he might have to from now on

After hes fucked you for payback however

Nanami -

Oh hes fucking insatiable. I mean hes already obsessed woth you enough as it is. Now imagine that tenfold. So its kind of freak you out when you come home from work to find him sat in your living room, glass of whisky in hand, tie undone, disheveled hair. And a devious look in his eyes

“Come on darling, show me how deep I am” he drawls with a Cheshire Cat like grin on his face. Gripping one of you hands and dragging it down to your stomach. Where he was clearly bulging through you poor little pussy. You did your best in your fuck out state to move his huge hands, bringing it down on the bulge. Only for him to press on it gently, watching the way your eyes lolled into the back of you head, mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“Oh there? Is that the spot my love?” He questioned, cruel really as he knew you could hardly form the words to answer.

Sure you had seen Nanami feral before but it was nothing like this, nothing as raw and filthy as this. The way his eyes trained on you, never leaving. Watching you like prey, knowing you had no way of escape. His hand every now and then moving to the side that he had place his whisky, taking a sip before turning his attention back to you. Only this time he brought his mouth to yours, transferring the Smokey liquid into your mouth with a sloppy kiss, licking the trail it leaves as it spills from the corner of your mouth.

“Ken~” the sultry action pulling his name from your mouth in a broken whine. His cock fucking you deeper and deeper into the couch with every thrust, dragging through your velvety walls in a way that had his knuckles goin white with how hard the were gripping the cushions

“Oh- fuck say it again baby”

Suguru - (fucking father of all my kids, love of my life, underrated king)

He’s so fucking cruel with it, I mean you cant blame him, you left those chocolates out without sating a word, and then are too busy to pick up your phone all day when all he wanted to hear was your voice while he fucked his fist. So of course hes going to have to teach you a lesson

Hot tears stream down your face, ruining the makeup you had spent so long on that morning. You had just got in from seeing a friend, rushing because of all the missed calls. But instead of coming home to an emergency, you came home to Suguru fucking his hand on your shared bed, before pouncing on you, stripping you down and bending you over the bed.

“That’s it baby, cry for me” he gritted out to you, huge hands coming down to encase you wrists in his grip, using them as leverage to fuck you harder and harder. The slap of skin against skin echoing in the room, slightly masked by your screams of pleasure.

And you did exactly that, pouring tears into your bedsheets, smearing your mascara into the material. His hips snapped so savagely into yours, relishing in the feeling of your thighs trembling

“Sugu~ fuck fuck fuck” his name left your lips so sweetly it almost made him want to show some mercy. Almost.

His hips bucking into yours, fuelled by the sound of your pathetic whines.

“Oh no, not sugu for you tonight sweetheart, thats reserved for good girls” Groaning at he pummels deeper into you, struggling to get his words out as you clench so tightly around him. Getting even more distracted as he watched himself enter you, the way your thighs glisten with your own arousal, the noise your pussy makes as he takes a hand and swipes his digits through your folds

“It’s Suguru to you- fuckin tease”

A scream left you, muffled by the duvet you head was getting buried into. Nodding your head as you accept everything he was giving you.

“Yes Suguru.”

“Oh baby, now you want to play nice? Breaking my heart sweets” he leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear

“Cus im not done with your punishment yet”

Gojo -

Hi - pathetic whimpery mess, thats all - send tweet

“Shit baby, been thinking about this all day” hot breath tickles your ear from the shuddering man. He was fucking wrecked, skin sticky with sweat as he eagerly thrusts into from behind, muscular body hulked over, pressed into your back as he struggles to support himself, his hips moving as if they had a mind of their own, chasing yet another orgasm. “Been thinking about you.” He rambles, eyes squeezed shut as he fucks you, one of his thick arms wrapped around your torso, stopping your escape from his brutal thrusts. “Been thinking about this pretty little pussy” and you can hear the need in his voice, the pitchy whine that leaves him with every word. Silent pleas not to stop. His thick cock stretching you over him, so deep you could hardly speak. Your one choice being to listen to him as he talks to you. Words flowing from him with little thought. His only focus being how well you were taking him

“F-fuck, please let me cum inside” he stutters, a pathetic whisper in your ear. His pretty leaking tip mashing against your g-spot as he spoke, begging.

He never slowed, slamming into you over and over again, unable to stop himself. You werent sure how many times he made you cum already, you werent sure how many times he had cum now. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, hearing him so pathetic and whiny getting you wetter and wetter by the second.

“‘Toru~” You gasped as one of his hands dove sown to your clit, rubbing fast circles on the swollen bud. Legs quivering which each movement of his fingers

“B-baby, you cant ca— fuck- cant call me that.” He shudders against your, eyes rolling back into his skull as he replays the way you said that little nickname of his

“Toru..” you purposely repeat, only to be met by hard thrusts and a deep groan from behind.

One…. Two… three

“Fuck”

A warm sensation filling your belly as he shoots ropes of hot cum deep inside, over and over until he was shaking from the pleasure. Not pulling out before starting his pace again.

“Need more sweets.”

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plutotheplum · 6 months ago

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ᡣ𐭩 zayne | head under the desk ᡣ𐭩

zayne is a professional man, by all standards.

or he tries to convince himself that he is. he treats his patients with respect, listens to their concerns and provides them with the help they need. he is a professional.

but you seem to turn professionalism on its head. zayne doesn’t know how it started, although he suspects it was when you squirmed onto his lap in the afternoon, complaining about how he was spending too much time in his office and not enough time at home. zayne had soothed your worries with a kiss and a squeeze to the waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he had worked through the necessary paperwork for his patients.

he hadn’t quite understood then why you’d insisted on sitting on the floor of all places, worming out of his lap and into the space between his legs, your cheek resting on his thigh. he hadn’t even minded until he felt your fingers pulling at his chair, boxing you in under his desk. zayne had protested, but his resolve shattered the moment you had mouthed at his clothed cock, your mouth wet against the fabric of his slacks.

you were insatiable, zayne had realised in that moment, his eyes narrowing as he had watched the haze that had come over your eyes as you’d drooled on his slacks, mouthing and licking and making soft, little noises until he gave in and pulled his cock out for you.

he had watched you take it, despite the threatening urge to let his head tip back, your mouth making room for his thick cock as you slurped and sucked, tongue flicking at his throbbing head, wet with pre-cum. you had made him cum like that, mouth working along his cock, obscene noises filling his professional space. and you swallowed it down too, like a good girl, his voice rasping and breathless as he’d praised you and caressed your cheek, smearing the tip of his cock against your lips to watch his cum be licked up by his darling.

zayne shouldn’t have let you do it.

it’s why he’s in this situation now, his cock stuffed down your throat and some intern sitting across from him, droning on about suturing techniques. zayne tries to pay attention, he really does, but when you suckle at the sensitive head of his cock, a shudder rushes through him, his hand slapping against the desk in an effort to stop the moan.

the intern asks whether he’s okay and zayne can only give him a jerky nod, his gaze dropping down for a split second to see the soft smile on your face as you kiss the tip of his cock delicately. zayne thinks you look beautiful.

beautiful but devious with the way you latch onto his balls, his hand clenching into a fist as he tells the intern that yes, a simple interrupted suture would be best. zayne tries to think through the heavy haze of arousal, his vision blurring for a moment when he feels you nuzzle into his cock, beginning to lap at the tip again.

he can feel you shift subtly, trapping his leg between your thighs, your hips rocking needily as you take his cock deeper, your greedy fingers creeping up to feel his tensed abdomen. his cock is terribly sensitive and you aren’t helping, so much so that he mutters a low curse.

zayne has no choice but to cut the discussion short, telling the intern that no, he is actually feeling sick. the intern looks apologetic as he leaves and zayne groans the moment the intern is out the door, his teeth sinking into his fist as he leans back and watches you worship his cock.

you’re both too addicted to the rush of indecency to stop. zayne puts his hand on your head, guiding you down slowly until you swallow the entirety of his cock, your fingers moving needily between your thighs as you suck greedily, drinking down every drop of pre-cum that zayne has to offer.

he can feel the press of your nose against his pelvis, his head dropping forward as he peers down into your eyes, thumb smoothing over the outline that his cock has made against your cheek.

you let your tongue loll out and zayne bites back a whine as he slaps his cock against your tongue, feeding it to you again until you suck and lick and he’s cumming, thighs twitching and chair creaking as he presses his hips forward, flush against your mouth.

he covers his face with his hand, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. zayne can feel the curve of your smile against his skin as you kiss his thighs, and watches you dazedly as you rise up and crawl up onto his lap, peppering sticky kisses along his cheek before licking into his mouth.

zayne can taste himself on your tongue, a soft moan spilling out of him when he feels you press closer, breasts squished up against his chest, your smile and starry eyes making his head spin and heart ache.

it’s only right of him to repay the favor when you get home, his mouth lapping at your cunt over and over until you cry and beg for his cock, utterly overstimulated and yet still needy.

he stuffs you full with his cock, fucks you until you’re both limbless and sensitive and curled up together in bed, arms and legs tangled in a messy embrace.

“fun,” you mumble, voice hoarse, “again?”

“no,” zayne replies, his own voice raspy, “you can’t do that again.”

he smiles faintly when he sees the pout on your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks to make your lips pucker out so that he can kiss you gently.

zayne is nothing if not terribly weak for you.

you end up under his desk, fat cock stuffed down your throat the following week.

#zayne smut #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lnd zayne #lnd smut #li shen

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comatosebunny09 · 7 months ago

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apt 302 | sylus q.

— summary: at first, your new neighbor was as mysterious as he was handsome. after taking some time to get to know him—or forcing your way into his quiet life—you realize looks can be deceiving. — cw: gn reader, neighbors au, neighbors to friends to lovers, profanity, innuendoes, jealousy, misunderstandings, stalker ex, alcohol use, guns mentioned, self-indulgent, allusions to reincarnation, angst, pet names, sylus being an insufferable gentleman, slice of life — dividers by: @omi-resources — notes: this grew way longer than i expected, soooooo you’re gonna hate me for what comes next. anyways, thank you so much for reading! — now playing: my favorite person now - she was pretty ost — tagging: @alfredosaws, @chuppiechanchan @hao-ming-8 @antonneva @sunsets-and-crows @leighsartworks216 @grabby-smitten @nebulorra @minniestarmj @elysiums-light @saiaise @queenofstresss @beewilko @aetherscribit @libriomancer @world-of-hearts @awkwardnurse @huachengnism

Information Technology isn’t as cushy of a field as you initially thought.

Sure, you have a desk job doing the most mundane of things—working the help desk, troubleshooting devices, re-imaging computers. But your job isn’t without its drawbacks.

Sometimes, the days are long and arduous. The constant customer interaction doesn’t help matters; you’re a bit of an introvert, requiring five business days to recover from just a few hours of socializing.

So, forgive you for seeking a little respite in the form of your favorite set of pajamas and fuzzy slippers as you ease into your apartment.

The weight of the world sloughs off your shoulders when the door leading inside clicks shut behind you. You sigh gratefully, the sound of your keys clattering against your entryway table, intermingling with that of your AC humming to life.

You hang your bag and sweater on the coat rack. Trade your uncomfortable shoes for house slippers, the soreness in your heels slowly retreating. The last vestiges of sunlight creep through the slits of your blinds to bathe your home in its ethereal glow before ducking behind the horizon.

Your apartment is humble. Has a natural, minimalistic vibe with bits of decor displaying your personality sprinkled throughout. You already pay the price of a kidney and two lungs to stay here. No use investing in posh furniture when your job sometimes requires you to pick up and go at the drop of a hat.

Your stomach growls whilst you draw your curtains shut and turn on some ambient lighting via your phone. You’ll eat soon, you promise. For now, you’re on a mission.

Quietly, you move through your home in search of your laundry area, thoroughly prepared to slip into your PJs following a shower to jumpstart your weekend.

Too bad a pile of sopping wet clothes awaits you when you open your dryer door.

“Goddammit,” said under your breath as you mash the power button. It won’t turn on. Figures. You kick the offending appliance. Stupid thing must be out again.

You had set your clothes to dry before you left for work. You were looking forward to snuggling up with wine and your favorite show, donned in comfy clothes. Seems your dryer had other plans.

You should’ve replaced it months ago when it first started acting up. You had hoped to salvage it a little longer; appliances don’t come cheap these days. Besides, you’ve had a darling neighbor to fix it each time. To extend its lifespan.

Speaking of which—

Chewing your lip, you pad over your cold, hardwood floor to snatch your phone from the coffee table. Fall onto your couch cushions with a devious smile twitching your lips. It’s getting late, so you don’t think to badger him into tinkering with your dryer tonight. However, perhaps he’ll let you utilize his. At least until you can use your day off tomorrow to shop for a replacement.

You hover your thumb over his contact, his name flanked by crow emojis. Contemplate calling him, but what if he’s busy? This is usually about the time he’s leaving. Instead, you settle for opening your messaging app, already conjuring an excuse.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): lol (Sylus): good morning to you too. (You): 😒😒😒 dude it’s like 6 (Sylus): 🤷‍♂️ (Sylus): im just now getting up. long day at the office. (Sylus): whats up? (You): are you busy tonight?? (Sylus): not really. 😏 what did you have in mind ? (You): pause. not like that (Sylus): 😢 (You): my dryer’s out again (Sylus): ah. want me to take a look? (You): nah you already do so much (You): is it cool if i use yours tho? 😬😬😬 (You): i’ll bring you booze (Sylus): lol (Sylus): its fine sweetie. doors unlocked. ill be in the shower. help yourself. (You): 🙏🙏🙏

You take your time gathering your saturated clothes into a basket. On your way out, you snag a bottle of Merlot from your fridge.

No matter how often you’ve been here, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how much more… put together Sylus’ place is compared to yours.

It suits him—the black and red furniture, the stylish accents littering his apartment. It smells delightful inside, a mixture of mahogany and amber enmeshed with remnants of food. Soulful jazz flows from a record player, fitting the sepia-toned glow of floor lamps and candles flickering on every other surface.

You toe the door shut behind you. Feel so small and out of place amid his decor. You’ve only recently started coming here, having spent much of your time together inside your apartment. Regardless, you navigate his space like it’s your second home, finding his washer and dryer set.

After starting your clothes in the dryer, you wander back to the living room, hands stuffed in the pockets of your cardigan. You take some time to admire the atmosphere. Fingers skim over the various vinyls organized on a built-in bookcase on the wall.

You snort with a half-smile. You know so little about your neighbor, yet you know just enough to be this comfortable with him.

He’s a music buff; that much is for sure. He’s clearly made of money if the luxurious furniture and his car are anything to go by. You don’t press him about what he does for a living. Figure he values his privacy above all else, unlike you.

You’re an open book. The primary yapper in your acquaintanceship, prattling on about your life and aspirations. And he just sits there, wordlessly nodding with a polite smile behind the rim of his glass. Where you would otherwise be wary of being in someone’s home like this, you feel safe around him in a way that almost terrifies you.

“Admiring the decor,” teases a voice from behind.

You jolt, spinning around like you’ve been caught stealing. You’re met with a smirk beneath scarlet eyes, twinkling with mischief. Strands of white cling to Sylus’ forehead, damp from the warm spray of his shower. He towels his hair dry, maneuvering around the living set towards you.

“Hey, you,” you greet, trying to play it cool. Like your heart isn’t hammering and heat isn’t branching into your cheeks. You attempt to maintain eye contact. It’s increasingly difficult to do so with his physique peeking through his t-shirt and sweats like that.

“Hey, yourself.” There’s amusement in the deep gravel of his voice. A smile in his eyes as he studies you, draping his towel around his shoulders.

You swallow. Try to divert the subject, motioning to his record collection. “You got some new tunes, I see.”

A chuckle is dredged from the bowels of his chest. You feel it pull in your stomach. “Sure did. Got something you might like.”

God help you as he reaches around you, the fine hairs littering your body standing on end, your mouth agape like a fish out of water.

Unconsciously, you step back, your spine softly thudding against the records display. Your heartbeat’s on a warpath, and you swallow against the dryness of your throat as the veiny, sinewy muscle in his forearm stains your periphery.

He gives you a bemused look before slowly peeling a record from the shelf behind you. Steps back to fish out the vinyl and settle it on the platter, replacing the record that was just playing.

You release a breath you were unaware of holding. Good job playing it cool, dumbass.

“You alright?” Sylus quizzes with a raised brow. “You seem a little on edge tonight, sweetie.”

You sigh, schooling an unconvincing smile onto your face. Try to ignore how the term of endearment glides off his tongue so effortlessly. You wonder how many other people he addresses like that.

“Work was…rough today. Kicked my ass. I’m tired.”

A snarling sound invades the space between you, heard over the gentle croon of the new music. Your eyes fall to your stomach. You rub it placatingly. In all your haste to have some dry friggin’ clothes, you forgot to eat.

“And hungry, too,” you sheepishly add.

You glance up, and Sylus’ gaze tracks from your stomach to your face. He smirks knowingly, motioning with a nod toward his kitchen.

“Figured you didn’t eat yet. I made carbonara if you’d like some.”

You smile wryly at his back as he pads away, carrying the scent of cedarwood and bergamot with him. Where would you be without such a doting neighbor?

You track him to the kitchen. Leaning against the threshold, you watch him procure a bottle of water from his fridge. It’s so very small, dwarfed by his massive hand.

“I suddenly got called for a Teams meeting five minutes ago.”

Your heart drops, the smile nearly falling from your face. And here you thought you’d have his company over dinner.

Suddenly, he taps your nose, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed when he got closer, swaddled in the static of your bodies being so close. “Where did you run off to,” he rasps, searching your gaze for something.

The proximity of your bodies grows stifling, his warm breath glazing over your skin, dizzying. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he steps back, leaving you shell-shocked and utterly confused.

“In the meantime, make yourself at home. You know where everything is,” he says, brushing past you with an air of finality.

You strain your ears for the noise of a distant door shutting before you make your move, rummaging through his cupboards and drawers for a plate and cutlery. After you’ve scooped a decent helping of food onto your plate, you settle onto one of his velvet couches, cross-legged and shoveling food into your maw.

The fluttering of wings piques your interest. You’ve hardly any time to acknowledge him before a tuft of black, iridescent feathers shines from Sylus’ coffee table. The crow studies you curiously, ingesting you with his beady eyes before he preens himself.

“Me-fith-toe!” you greet around a mouthful of food.

Said crow ducks away, dodging errant crumbs and spit flying from your mouth, cawing in protest. You give him a rueful look.

Sylus has a soft spot for animals. You noted it the first time you entered his apartment, greeted by his boisterous companion. Funny; he doesn’t look like the type to have such an eccentric pet.

But Sylus has found numerous ways of pleasantly surprising you, revealing parts of himself to you bit by agonizing bit.

“Chicken?” you say after finally swallowing, offering a forkful of pasta to the bird. Mephisto scrutinizes the food before resigning himself to pecking at it. You smile fondly, your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Mephisto, you cannibal.”

Lulled by the occasional flap of Mephisto’s wings and Sylus’ even tone murmuring things of business somewhere far off in his home, you fall into a familiar rhythm, quietly waiting for your clothes to dry.

You spend the remainder of your evening in your neighbor’s company, drinking Merlot and judging each other’s music tastes, long after your pajamas have dried and settled in the dryer.

“So, have you boned yet?”

You choke on your waffle. Pound on your chest with the heel of your palm to dislodge it. You turn narrowed eyes on the source of the question. She merely shrugs from across the table, sipping her mimosa as if she’s asked the most innocent thing.

“Bitch.”

“What?” She appears nonplussed, setting her champagne flute down with a definitive clack. All serious when she returns your stare over crossed arms, and you know you’re in for it.

“You talk about the guy so much I figured you would’ve already, ya know…” The humping gesture she makes under the table is a bit much.

You blanch. “No, dumbass, I haven’t boned.” Your voice peters towards the end of your sentence. And you peer down at the napkin folded in your lap, heat prickling your face.

You won’t deny Sylus is good-looking. More like he could be someone modeling Prada on a catwalk. Can’t pretend you haven’t entertained the thought of being a little closer to him, too. More than just the late nights spent talking or him fixing something you broke.

You shake your head. Of all the times you’ve been tucked away in either of your apartments, he’s never made a move on you. Sure, he’s said some pretty suss things. Flirted with you outside of your usual banter.

And maybe he’s done things to confuse the ever-loving hell out of you—cooked you breakfast when you were drunk off your ass and hungover the next morning. Lended you one of his expensive record players. Shacked up at your place a few times under the guise of “coming to get Mephisto.” But—

Nah. He’s not like that. You’re just neighbors, right? Unofficial friends. Friends hang out all the time, right?

“He’s not like that,” you say brattishly, stuffing more food into your face. At least not with you.

You don’t miss your coworker’s fox-like grin spreading in your periphery. She taps her cheek thoughtfully, watching you like a smug sibling about to snitch.

“Sure, sure. If you say so. He’s still a man, though. He might not have tried you yet—”

“Hush,” you interject. The table shakes, cups rattling as you saw into your sausage with your fork and butter knife. You’re done with this conversation.

Try as you might, however, you can’t banish your thoughts revolving around him. Especially with your coworker watching you like that, silently egging you on.

He’s not that kind of guy.

He’s still a man, though.

You’ve repeated it like a mantra throughout your day, even as you mindlessly clacked away at your computer.

Work was a blur. An exhausting blur. Day gave way to the soothing exhale of night, and you were finally nestled in the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, on your couch, entertaining yourself with a game of Uno. It wasn’t much fun playing alone, but you needed a distraction from the mess of your mind when your favorite show couldn’t help.

It’s a quarter past 9 when a shuffling sound in the breezeway outside your apartment catches your attention. It’s accompanied by the echoed rasp of a recognizable voice, chuckling and murmuring indiscernible things.

You peel yourself from your couch as if on autopilot, nose pressed against the cold metal of your door as you peer through the peephole.

It’s your nightly ritual—waiting like an overzealous puppy to greet or send off your neighbor. You don’t always get the luxury of saying goodnight in person. Sometimes, he’s gone for days—weeks—at a time. You don’t know the semantics of his job, but you make it your mission to help assuage whatever burdens he shoulders whenever you can.

He’s there to help you, after all. Whether with a glass of wine, a warm meal, or his company.

So, forgive you for wanting to be a decent neighbor. And you would be tonight if not for the scene that passes through the fisheye of your peephole.

It’s Sylus, clad in something flattering and expensive. There’s no mistaking his broad back and shoulders. The purl of his voice, the wispy dusting of alabaster hair on his collar. But the smaller frame with him, well—

Your heart plummets into your stomach.

She’s pretty from what you can glean from the limited view of your peephole. Donned in a dress that’s form-fitting, voice high and light. Giggling silly things, fastened to Sylus’ side, held there by a virile arm draped around her middle. She’s drunk if the sloppy lean of her body is anything to go by. Sylus angles himself near her ear to whisper something, ushering in a new set of giggles.

You watch with your breath corked in your esophagus until they slide into his apartment together, their enmeshed voices fading from the stilled walls of the hallway.

Huh. Well, so much for him not being that type of guy.

You grapple with this new revelation, a furrow between your brows, hands falling listlessly at your sides. Numb as you drag yourself back to your couch, bouncing comically on the cushions.

You don’t even know why you’re upset. He's a grown man with a…life. You think.

It’s the first time you’ve witnessed him bringing someone to his place other than you, but it’s only natural for a guy like him to have options. He’s far from hideous. Has the gift of gab, for God’s sake. He’s charming and the very definition of masculine.

It just stings a little, knowing that it’s not…you that he’s touching like that.

So, you are definitely not flinging Uno cards onto the coffee table. Muttering things to yourself, gripping the stack in your hands so tightly, the plastic squeaks. What’s even got your undies in a bunch? The man’s not yours. You’ve never screwed around. Never really showed signs of wanting to, so it makes sense he would seek pleasures of the flesh elsewhere. His world doesn’t solely revolve around you as much as you would like for it to.

You’re halfway through a third round of angry card-flinging before a soft rap at your door nearly sends you some 30 feet into the air.

Stomping to your entrance, you peek through the peephole, and your heart works overtime when you catch sight of a wash of black and scarlet.

Internally, you scold yourself for how gullible you are. You throw the door open like you weren’t just cursing him and his stupid existence moments ago. Try to act nonplussed, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe with a haughty look.

Of course, he would smell good. Look good, propped against the threshold like that, an amused cant to his lips, his physique devastating beneath the tight cling of his turtleneck.

“Hey,” he greets, the sound breathy and easy like warmed honey.

“Hey, yourself.”

He studies you for a bit. Eyes flicker over your face, and you tamp down the sparkling rush of warmth that wades over your skin at the attention. Even when you’re mad at him, your attraction still finds an annoying way of creeping through the seams.

“This is going to sound incredibly strange, and feel free to tell me to piss off, but…do you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

You stand up straight. Blink owlishly, mouth opening and closing. “Huh?” is all you’re able to muster.

He chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this side of bashful. “Yeah. It’s a…bit of a long story, sweetie.”

“O-Okay,” you say, rigidly moving aside.

“Thanks.” The charm is back on, turned up to max capacity. He brushes past you into your apartment, falling onto your couch with a huff. Quirks a brow at the mishap on your table, the carnage having spilled onto the floor.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but were you playing Uno by yourself?”

You ignore him, plopping cross-legged on a floor cushion adjacent to him. Bypassing the tick in your brow, you look off to the side, fighting the embarrassment threatening to take hold of your visage. Shouldn’t he be across the hall, entertaining his company?

“Shut up and grab some cards,” you grumble to dispel the green-eyed thoughts stewing in your mind.

“Bossy.” But he doesn’t contest you, gathering the abused cards to shuffle them.

The remainder of your evening slides by with comfortable quips. With booze and a break to catch up on Love Is Blind—somehow, he’d roped you into watching it.

You had no idea he was such a sap. Nearly forgotten how miffed you were mere hours ago.

He assuaged your worries with an explanation as the sun crept over the city.

The girl in his apartment was an old colleague who’d gotten drunk and convinced herself that she was anything but.

Being a good samaritan, Sylus brought her to his place to sober up since the apartment complex wasn’t too far from the main strip of bars. He didn’t want any issues when she inevitably woke up. Messing with drunk people wasn’t his thing.

So that’s how he ended up here, inhabiting your couch like he’d always been a part of the decor.

He didn’t owe you an explanation. You were just friends. Still, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that twitched your lips after he cleared the air.

At some point in the morning, you both fell asleep. He looked all serene, too big for your sofa, but comfortable. You watched his lashes flutter from your place on the floor, his lips parting with soundless exhales. Even in sleep, he maintained that guarded aura, his arms folded across his chest.

You were bleary-eyed, gathering yourself from the hardwood to fetch a blanket to drape over him. He shifted, and he was so pretty with the sun bathing him in an angelic glow like that, his hair bright like a halo.

You were about to retreat to your bedroom when an abrupt knock tore you from your reverie. You glanced at your guest, ensuring he went undisturbed. He needed the rest. He was a night owl, and something about the sun vexed him, so he typically spent his days sleeping when you weren’t impeding on his time.

You moved to the door, foregoing the peephole to open it. Big mistake.

On the other side stood Little Miss Pretty from the night prior, impatiently tapping her foot. Her hair was flattened on one side, and her dress was askew. By the looks of it, sleep hadn’t been kind to her.

“Hi, good morning,” she sighed, schooling her expression into fake politeness. She straightened herself as best she could, but the white patch of dried slob staining her chin did little to help her plight. You bit back a snicker.

“I’m looking for a friend. He lives across from you. His name’s Skye.”

You quirked a brow at that. Skye? Oh, honey…

You wondered how many other people Sylus had fed a fake alias to. Or if Sylus was even his real name.

“Haven’t seen him,” you chirped over crossed arms. Pulled the door slightly closed behind you, barring the woman from getting a peek at him, nuzzled up so cozily on your couch.

She sighed with slumped shoulders. A childish pout warped her lips. Her voice shifted into something more bratty. “You sure? Tall guy, white hair, red eyes? You can’t miss ‘em.”

“Not ringing a bell, hun. Sorry.”

It was taking all of you to keep up this ruse. You were fighting so hard to tamp down your amusement. This woman reminded you of an antagonist in a Korean drama, the way she was kicking and huffing about.

“Where the hell did he go,” she groused. You watched her draw her phone from the pocket of her fur coat, your throat growing dry.

Your blood turned to ice when a familiar ringtone chimed in your apartment behind you. You stiffened comically; mouth hinged open with shock.

The woman’s expression morphed into one of suspicion. She tried to look inside your home, the upbeat ring of Sylus’ phone still flooding the uncomfortable silence.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to assert her way inside. “What the fu—”

“Hey, girlie. Back the hell off before I call the police,” you warned with a hand pushed to her sternum. She insisted on being unruly, so you snatched your taser from the entryway table, the telltale blue sparks and sharp whip of static causing the woman to jolt back with alarm.

“You’re both insane!” she shouted from the hallway, the stomp of her heels reverberating off the walls as she made her way to the stairwell.

With a relieved sigh deflating your chest, you eased the door shut. Leaned against it, glancing at the man of the hour. He was still fast asleep, his leg dangling off the edge of your sofa. You smirked knowingly, shaking your head as you disappeared into your bedroom.

You’d let him sleep for as long as he needed. And you’d give him shit when he awoke about his taste in acquaintances.

(Sylus): hungry? (You): a little. was gonna make some ramen if you want (Sylus): 🤢 (Sylus): that stuffs terrible for your digestion sweetie. (Sylus): how about i make you dinner instead ? (Sylus): at the supermarket. need anything? (You): 😲😲😲 (You): you keep spoiling me and i might think you like me (Sylus): 😏 (You): nvm. no don’t need anything. lemme know when you’re back (You): i can help with groceries (Sylus): now who likes who? (You): fkdkos (Sylus): ? (You): sorry fat fingers

You have a nasty habit of not using your peephole as of late.

Your apartment came with one for a reason. Sure, your neighborhood’s been pretty tame since you’ve moved here. But that doesn’t mean the occasional weirdo doesn’t slip past security, roaming the halls and startling the other tenants.

You’ve found yourself forgoing the use of it a lot lately, given the only person who typically knocks on your door is the guy across the hall. And he usually calls or texts before he bugs you, but that doesn’t stop him from being spontaneous. You suppose today is one of those such cases after he manipulated you with dinner.

Maybe his hands are full, you muse, unlocking your door. Though you’re doubtful he can’t handle a few bags. You’ve seen him in action at the community gym, thick cords of muscle rippling beneath a tan stretch of skin.

You draw the door open with a smile, expecting to see a customary thatch of white. What confronts you instead sends a tide of dread washing over your innards.

“Oh, thank God you’re home,” breathes a voice you haven’t heard in months. A voice that still makes your body stiffen, and your blood run cold.

When your senses return, you step back into your apartment, thoroughly intending to slam the door in your ex’s face. They’re quicker, however, wedging themselves in the gap before you can shut it. Grabbing for you, a crazed look warping their features.

“Baby, please! Talk to me! I miss you!”

You bat at their hand, trying vainly to crush them, to scare them off. It’s to no avail, and you wonder if they’re coked up, giving you a run for your money as they try to bully their way into your home.

There’s a softball bat propped on the wall, and your fingers brush the base of it in your attempt to grab it. Something to defend yourself since your taser’s out of reach, tucked somewhere in your bag.

The sounds of your struggle intermingle, your voice strained and panting, please please please, and your ex’s caught between sobs of your name.

Just a little further. Just—

Suddenly, there’s no more resistance in your door. You stumble against it, a wild look in your eyes. And then, there is the noise of a brief scuffle. Of a back being shoved against a wall, of rusting plastic bags, of “Who the fuck are you?!”

Amid your panicked frenzy, you glance up to see a back to you. Barring you from the view beyond your threshold, and your body’s awash with relief as you register your savior’s form.

“You would do well to piss off,” seethes Sylus, and there’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. You feel it furling in your stomach, burning your lungs. And in this moment, you don’t know who to be more afraid of.

Your ex makes a sound of protest, but you imagine the cut of Sylus’ eyes deterring them.

There is the scuffling of shoes across the concrete flooring of the breezeway, and you listen with bated breath until the cacophony fades at the foot of the stairs, willing your heart to ease down.

Scarlet eyes shift to you, brows knit with concern. “Who was that?” Sylus asks, tone cautious as if he doesn’t want to startle you more than you’ve already been.

You right yourself, smoothing out the wrinkles of your clothes. Finally grab your bat, waving it intimidatingly as you step aside to let your neighbor in.

“My stupid ex. Just know you saved their life. ‘cause I was gonna—” You make swinging gestures, the metal bat swooping in the air. The corners of Sylus’ eyes crinkle.

“Slow down before you hurt yourself.” He kneels to retrieve the bags he’d tossed down in his haste to intervene. You scurry over to help, gathering up spilled food.

Once you’re both inside, the bags placed haphazardly on the counter, you’re seated on your sofa, nursing the rush of adrenaline still spuming through you like the hot rush of a geyser.

“You need to get a restraining order,” says Sylus. He emerges from your kitchen with a tense set to his jaws, two bottles of Angry Orchard clasped between his fingers.

Plopping down beside you, an arm draped over the headrest, he shoves a bottle into your hand, side-eyeing you as he throws his head back for a swig.

You babysit the cider, the crisp condensation of it serving to ground you. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m not asking, sweetie.”

You bristle under the weight of his tone, feeling much like a scolded child. You know this. Should’ve done it long ago the first time your ex took it upon themselves to do surprise pop-ups at your place—at your job.

“And an alarm system.”

“I know, I know.”

“I can take you right now to look for one—”

“I got it, Sy! Fuck, I-I got it.” You release a weighted sigh, warring with yourself.

Not only do you feel silly for being so lackadaisical with your life. But now, you feel even worse for the seemingly impenetrable silence that settles between you. You didn’t mean to yell, frustration and adrenaline having burbled to the surface. He was just worried. No need to take your emotions out on him.

Sylus exhales slowly, an unreadable expression descending onto his face whilst staring at the wall.

“Sorry,” you murmur, unconsciously patting his quad. You don’t miss how he stiffens; don’t miss the tight coiling of tendons in his neck. You retract your hand, instead drumming your fingers along the bottom of your bottle.

“I’m assuming this isn’t the first time this has happened,” queries Sylus in an attempt to dispel the tense atmosphere.

You shake your head, shrinking into yourself. Stare at your lap, pulling at some frayed threads in your bottoms.

“How did they even manage to get up here?”

You shrug. The security guards at the gates aren’t always the most attentive. Besides, sometimes, the pin pad leading into the lobby malfunctions, making it easier for anyone to just slip into your complex.

Unprompted, you begin to bare yourself, explaining the possibilities of why your ex showed up.

Sylus listens attentively. Doesn’t interrupt you, watching the subtle shifts of your expressions as you speak.

You tell him that things weren’t bad in the beginning about two years ago. How your ex said and did all the right things, and they were wonderful. But they wanted something you weren’t ready for. You had some growing up to do, so you broke things off. Moved to another city, started a new job.

You didn’t bank on them following you.

The visits were random at first. Occasional run-ins at the park, the bar. Things soon blossomed into something more concerning when your ex found your new address after you relocated to another part of the city to ease the stress of the commute.

This was their second time making an appearance at your door. You knew you should’ve done something to protect yourself sooner, but you didn’t think much of it then. Figured they would live and let be. Today proved otherwise.

“You’re grossly naive, sweetie.”

You snort before gulping down the remnants of your cider. “Way to make me feel better.”

He chuckles, and it’s comforting, your thighs pressing together amid your dinky couch. “It’s what I’m here for. But I could understand how you could drive someone to such extremes.”

You glare at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means…”

Before you know what’s about, he’s panning in, flooding your vision with the scarlet shine of his eyes. With the wispy dance of his lashes until his breath fans over your molten cheeks. Limber fingers sneak beneath your chin, slightly tilting your head back.

Warmth wades over you. Your breath swells in your chest. Lips purse as a mysterious shade of burgundy leaks over his irises. His voice drops a few octaves, husky, the sound of it pinching in your stomach.

“It means that you’re someone worth fighting for.”

You scoff, shaking yourself away from his hold. Ignore the bashfulness creeping into your face in favor of being a cheeky little shit.

“All right, Li Shang. Getting a little too serious over there.”

He huffs a laugh in response, popping up to grab another round of ciders from your fridge.

Ingredients sat untouched on the countertop as your evening eased by. You’d settled on a pizza, catching up on shows and talking, long after the moon had pinned itself to the center of the sky.

Sylus promised to teach you how to use a gun. He had plenty and would carve out time in his schedule to take you to a range. He didn’t press much after, instead letting the weight of your evening melt from your shoulders.

He was reluctant to leave you, even after sunbeams spilled through your blinds and you snoozed so quietly, cheek propped against his shoulder.

His hand never left your thigh. Possessive in its touch as he mirrored your affections from before.

It’s strange.

Today is your birthday. You’re enjoying yourself, filled with enough alcohol to tranquilize a small goat.

Your co-workers had dragged you out. Surprised you with dinner, a cake. Took you to the strip of bars lining the streets adjacent to your apartment complex. You were all smiles until your cheeks ached, and you’d nearly thrown up from laughing so much.

Still, you feel…empty. Like something is missing. Or someone.

You look at your phone for the umpteenth time. Scroll through your messages, reliving the moment in your head.

Sylus was the first to wish you a happy birthday. It made you swell with overwhelming happiness, knowing he’d woken up so early to be the first to say it. You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder when he sent a voice message of him singing “Happy Birthday.”

God, for everything he was good at, poor baby couldn’t hold a note to dig himself out of a hole. Still, you cherished the gesture, lying in bed for the first hour you’d been awake, replaying said message and rolling around your bed like an enamored teen.

Even now, you replay the voice note, holding the speaker to your ear. It’s hard to hear it amid the live band playing and the merriment around you at the bar. Try as you might to enjoy what remains of your night, you can’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to a certain smug figure clad in black.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): hows it going birthday babe? (You): 😭😭😭 (You): u shuld be her e (Sylus) im sorry sweetie. i had some work to catch up on. (Sylus): you must be having a good time. 😏 (You): fuk wrk 🖕🖕🖕 (You): am not drink ur dronk (Sylus): lol. you sound plastered. (Sylus): do i need to come rescue you? (You): hum (Sylus): ? (You): hone (You): home (Sylus): 🫤 (Sylus): we need to have a serious talk about you enabling autocorrect. (You): r u (You): home (Sylus): about to be. why ?? (Sylus): sweetie?

Somehow, you find yourself staring at the glossy, black numbers embossed on the top center of his door. 302. It’s ingrained in your memory. You’d probably find your way to his apartment with your eyes closed, driven to it by the familiar smell and homeliness it exudes.

You’re still a little tipsy. Took some time to sober up as best you could before ditching your friends and catching an Uber back to your complex. You had enough sense to gather everything you’d shown up with. Didn’t hitch a ride with any strangers regardless of how many of them tried to pull you into their arms as you stumbled out of the bar.

You had a one-track mind. Only wanted to spend the rest of your birthday with him.

With a goofy smile plastered on your face, you knock on his door. You’re singing that infectious song you can’t get out of your head when it swings open.

“Apateu-pateu, apateu-pateu,” you chant, shaking your hips from side to side.

He greets you with an omniscient smirk, eyes softening whilst leaning against the doorframe. “Well, hello, birthday babe.”

“Sup!” you return a little too enthusiastically, pitching forward until Sylus steadies you with his hands. You giggle like a drunken fool, peering at him. Hadn’t realized how good his hands felt, searing through the fabric of your top.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t noticed many things about him before. His lips are a pretty shade of pink. Skin textured, nose sharp, cheeks high. Little flecks of amber dwell between the scarlet rinse of his eyes. His hair falls into his face, damp from the shower he probably had before answering the door.

“I take it you had a good night,” he says, gaze painting a steady triangle between your eyes and mouth.

“Almost,” you whisper back, surprised by the huskiness of your voice. You lose yourself in the idle stir of his eyes. In the fragility of his smile, and you feel so safe in his hands like this.

You don’t know what compels you to do it. To conquer the space of hot, dizzying breaths between you. But, you sort of…well…

Your inhibitions hit the floor. With your fingers wrapped tenderly around his wrists, you angle yourself closer to kiss him. You almost pull away when he stiffens. But he seemingly relaxes, and his lips cautiously move against yours as he unconsciously guides you closer.

You cling to the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He encircles your waist in his powerful arms, fastening you to the hard press of his body. He kisses you like he’s waited lifetimes to do it, one hand molding around the apple of your cheek.

When your tongue sloppily prods the barrier of his teeth, he bristles. Draws away from you with a resounding smack, blinking wildly. You’re confused. Your heart sinks. You try again to draw him back in, but he gently pushes you away, shaking his head to dispel the bleariness. To chase away the spell that’s fallen over you.

“Baby, wait. No. Not…not like this,” he rasps through kiss-swollen lips, holding you by your hips. You’re wounded. A hot flush of embarrassment washes over you, and your brows knit together like those of a confused puppy.

“Wha-what’s wrong? Did I—am I—”

“No, no, you’re…you're perfect,” he soothes with a chuckle, a thumb gliding over your bottom lip. “Beautiful, even. I just…I don’t think now is a good time to do this.”

“Oh.” You deflate, a scorching film of tears clouding your vision. “Oh, okay. Um, I’ll just—yeah, I’ll go. I’ll…see you around, I guess.”

You slide out of his arms, too mortified to look back as you fumble with your keys. After he murmurs a hoarse, “good night.” Did you misread him before? Misinterpret his actions, his words?

You’re numb as you sink into your couch. Sobriety slowly creeps in. Stray tears blister your cheeks, but you don’t full-on sob. Can’t bring yourself to, instead laughing hysterically with your face buried in your hands, swallowed by the bleak loneliness of your apartment.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #neighbor au #neighbors to friends #friends to lovers #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #qin che #sylus fluff #sylus romance #lnds x reader #love and deepspace fic #gn reader #apt 302/304 series

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moonstruckme · 8 months ago

Note

Hello, its me again. I did read the insomnia one after I realized it exist. It was very very good actually♡. But I do think it might be a bit funny if there was one where reader bakes in the middle of the night. Sorry for asking again♡

Thank you for requesting lovely! And no need for sorries, that's why I asked :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 447 words

Sirius’ arms come around you too slow to startle, hands slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to splay over your bare stomach as his chin hooks on your shoulder. “Smells good,” he says through a yawn. “Whatcha making, sweet thing?”

You lean some of your weight into him, balling dough in your hands. “Cookies.”

“Jamie,” Remus’ voice is soft, chiding overshadowed by loving, “you were supposed to go get her.”

James barely picks his head up from where he’s fallen asleep at the kitchen table, a half eaten plate of warm cookies beside him. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Remus sighs and sets a hand on his curls.

“Did you ply him with sweets?” Sirius accuses, mushing funny little kisses into the ticklish part of your neck. “Devious.”

You giggle, squirming. “You should go to bed. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Sirius makes an appalled scoffing noise. “Without you?”

“Can this dough freeze, dove?” Remus asks.

You side-eye him. “It can…”

He takes the bowl you’re balling dough from, and Sirius tugs you back when you try to reach for it.

“Guys,” you laugh, only half resisting while Sirius drags you to the sink to wash your hands. Remus begins spooning your dough into a baggie. “I wasn’t done.”

“It’s three in the morning,” says Remus. “You should be in bed.”

“Yeah.” Sirius pumps soap into your hands. “If we were smart, we’d all be following James’ example.”

From the table, James gives a weak thumbs-up.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you argue. “So if it’s the difference between me being awake in there or awake out here—”

“You know it only makes things worse to get up,” Remus chastises you gently. He puts your dough into the freezer, coming over and placing a hand on top of your head. It weighs heavily with fondness. “You’ll never fall asleep if you’re out here baking, but you might if you’re in bed.”

You sigh. “It feels so useless.”

“I know, darling.” His lips touch down on your temple.

Sirius picks up a cookie as he goes by the table, collecting James. “Jamie makes for an excellent weighted blanket. You could try him out. These are good, by the way.”

“Try him out,” James repeats drowsily. “I think I ought to be offended.”

“Don’t be,” Sirius replies, at the same time as Remus says, “Probably.”

James drapes himself over you nonetheless, weighted blanket powers already in full effect as he makes you half carry him back to your bedroom. Remus has to take him so you can climb into bed, but then he’s heaping himself atop you again, warm and heavy and smelling of cookies. Neither of you move until morning.

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maudie-duan · 15 days ago

Text

Summary: The classic mirror selfie with you and your boo, just as you're about to snap the pic, your bestie texts you, questioning Harry's abilities...in bed.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: My thoughts last night scrolling through Tumblr after a storm woke me up at 3a.m. No biggie...But here you go. Happy weekend!!

Warning: Just nothing but bathroom smut. Have at it!

It was just supposed to be a quick selfie, the two of you standing in front of the mirror, and there you were, one hand brushing your teeth the other opening the camera on your phone. Harry straightens slightly, continuing to casually brush his teeth, and inches closer so you’re both in frame, and just as your about to tap the capture button, a notification rolls in:

SHAY: Dude, there’s no way he made you come that many times.

And shit, your thumb is already pressing the shutter, it’s too late, and the selfie freezes on the screen capturing a single moment in time, and you peer down at it, Harry’s eyes angled directly at your screen. You’re eyes catch in the mirror and he blinks, then blinks again, and you swear the way his eyebrow twitches that he for sure saw the text.

When you look back at the picture, his gaze is frozen, laser-focused on your phone screen, pupils sharp with interest

And that’s when the silent panic sets in.

You should have swiped the notification off your screen the second you felt the buzz in your hand, but you didn’t. Your brain was slow this morning, tired, a stupid sludgy mess, lagging a beat behind, and your mortification only seemed to make it worse.

Instead of acknowledging anything you stand there, toothbrush buzzing, opening the text you know he just saw, feigning ignorance as if nothing happened. From the corner of your eye Harry doesn’t move, as his silence hold you in the mental war raging within you, him continuing on as if you can pretend reality isn’t happening, and the second you put your phone down on the counter it buzzes again.

Nonchalantly you lean forward and spit, eyes avoiding Harry, and you turn, meaning to play it off, but when you meet his eyes in the mirror you catch the devious little curve of his mouth, his dimple’s dipping deeper now, like a warning.

“So you saw that, huh?” you try, voice wobbly and full of foamy toothpaste.

He huffs out a laugh, not even bothering to look away. “Didn’t know you were telling our business to the world, darling.” He drags out the last word, almost making it sound like a challenge, his accent syrupy and slow, with the faintest hint of smug, watching you in the mirror like it’s a live feed of your embarrassment.

And this is when you wanted to crawl into the sink and die. “It’s not—” you say, then cut yourself off, sputtering, trying to find the right word in case he’s mad, “It’s not like that. It’s just Shay. I tell her everything, you know that.”

Harry spits, then rinses his mouth, and shakes his head with a disappointed little click of his tongue. “Oh, baby. Baby, baby.” and he leans forward until his chin is resting on your shoulder, eyes dark with a playful glint. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

He keeps shaking his head, like he’s truly heartbroken, but his hands are all over you, fingertips pressing into the fabric at your waist, just above your ass, and maybe you should be more embarrassed, but fuck, it’s the way he’s looking at you—hungry—his fake-scold nature making your skin prickle in a very different way.

One that’s turning you on. You’re heart already racing under his touch,

“Why?” you question, because the word is there on your tongue and it’s the only thing your melting brain can manage.

He grins. “Because now I’ve got to teach you a lesson.”

You snort, accidentally spraying a fine mist of toothpaste all over the mirror. “Oh yeah? Gonna ground me? Take my phone away?” you taunt, mocking him, but your voice comes out smaller than you meant it to.

He takes the toothbrush from your hand, sets it on the counter with a little clatter, and grabs your chin so your eyes can’t go anywhere, his face your whole focus. “No, love,” he coos, with a false-sweetness that sends a flutter to the pit of your stomach, “not gonna ground you. Gonna bend you over this fucking counter and make you beg for it. That’s what’s gonna happen.”

And there’s no time to process his words before he’s moving, sliding his big palm down your back, guiding you forward until your hips knock against the edge of the sink. Your breath catches as your knees threaten to buckle, and He crowds in behind you, pressing his hips to your ass, and holy shit, there’s nothing subtle about the way he’s already hard for you, thick through the soft fabric of his shorts, perfectly lined up, not a trace of shame to be seen.

Because you can see all of it in the mirror: the heat blooming in your cheeks, the way Harry’s green eyes track every movement, the way his hands flex with a possessive grip around your hips, and then he pushes the hem of your t-shirt up, exposing your bare skin to the chill of the bathroom air, and his breath halts for a sharp second, just a little, just enough to send your thoughts spiraling.

“Don’t think you’ve ever looked more gorgeous than you do right now, love.” he says, his voice low and honest, and dammit, the compliment has you aching in places that have nothing to do with vanity, but everything to do with him, and how badly you want him.

He doesn’t bother with the games, no getting you ready, just hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with one swift motion, pooling them to your knees, and you let out a shocked, involuntary gasp, the humiliation making your pussy pulse even harder, and he yanks your shirt up, the material just above your waist, leaving your entire ass exposed, and you want to whimper, you do, but you bite down on your lip instead, trying to fight the fear that’s rising.

Harry’s fast, and he bends down, trailing his mouth along the curve of your spine, licking a long, slow stripe up to your neck, with a primal hunger that has your clit throbbing, and when he bites your shoulder, gentle but pointed, he does it again, harder this time, just to prove he can. “If Shay wants the details,” he breathes, lips pressed to your ear, “We might as well give her something worth talking about.”

Stunned, you choke on a laugh that turns into a moan as his hand slips between your legs. His fingers rough and confident, always a little too big, and christ, it’s so unfair how good at this he is. It should be a fucking crime, because as soon as he rubs you with the heel of his palm, knowing exactly how much pressure you need, it makes your knees tremble, you standing there becoming this weak puppet, ready to do anything he says and the whole time he’s watching you in the mirror, making you watch yourself come apart.

And it’s sick, so fucking, sick, but you want more.

When you meet his gaze, shuddering, his smile widens, all teeth and mischief. “Want you to see what I do to you,” he says, punctuating the sentence with a swift flick of his wrist that has your vision blurring for a second.

You try to turn your face away, to bury it in your arms, but he grabs your jaw, forcing your head back up. “Eyes on the mirror, love,” he orders, soft but dead serious.

Of course, you obey, because you always do, and he rewards you by sliding two fingers inside, fucking you with just his hand, the other steadying you at the hip. He moves slow at first, drawing out every tiny noise you make, then picks up his speed until you’re grinding down against his palm, desperate for more, gasping each time his thumb finds your clit.

“Harry, please—” you gasp, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for. More? Less? All of it? Because your head is still spinning, a fucking muddled mess of want and need tangling together until you can’t form a single coherent thought, because it’s only him, and he’s all that you need in this very moment.

This draws a laugh from Harry,a low rasp filling the space, and he pulls his hand away as your body goes limp, and you nearly collapse from the sudden loss.

“Turn around,” he says, and you do, stumbling on shaky legs, but he catches you, lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, and spreads your legs open with his hands on your knees. He’s between your thighs in a heartbeat, not even pretending to hide his hunger as you cage him in.

He peels the shirt off over your head, tosses it aside, and then you’re just—naked. Completely. Sitting on cold stone of the sink with your thighs splayed, dripping and humiliated, wanting him so badly you can’t even see straight.

Harry kneels down, spreading your legs wider, and runs his tongue up the inside of your thigh. “Open up for me,” he directs, and you do without pause, because you’re past the point of dignity, and it’s everything, his mouth hot and soft, a shocking contrast to the cool air, and he licks you like it’s his favorite thing in the world, and maybe it is because he never seems to fail you. And when he sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue with quick, ruinous strokes, it’s too much, too fast, and you hold your breath, thinking you’re going to lose it—

And fuck, you do, you do, you, do, because you’re coming, hard, almost instantaneous, grabbing at the fucking edge of the counter for dear life so you don’t scream, but Harry doesn’t stop, just keeps working you until you’re quiver, begging, nearly crying for mercy, forcing his head away with shaking hands as he leaves you with a minty tingle.

Then he stands, mouth slick and wet, eyes wild like the beast you’ve made of him. “Gorgeous,” he repeats, voice thick with pride as he shoots you a cunning smile, as if he’s giving himself a pat on the back.

You can barely articulate your thoughts, but somehow you manage to say, “You’re such an asshole.”

This makes him laugh, and he drags the back of his hand across his mouth. “Yeah, but you love it.”

And there’s no question about it because you do. God, you do, and he kisses you, tongue still minty from the toothpaste, and slides his hand up your side, fingers curling around your breast, squeezing until you let out a hushed moan.

“Bend over,” he tells you, more indulgent this time, but with a command you can’t refuse, because why would you at this point.

You slid off the counter, trembling, and braced yourself on the sink, the mirror right in front of you, reflecting you back in a light you rarely saw yourself in, and you can’t help but stare, taking yourself in, and maybe before there would have been a shyness, a subtle shame creeping beneath the surface, but the longer you stare the more you love it, feeling sexy, invinceable under his gaze as he pressed the length of his cock to your back, and you felt it—hot and heavy, so fucking ready it’s almost obscene. The feelings rising within you.

You watched as he lined himself up, not even pretending to be gentle, and without warning he pushes inside you in one achingly slow and stretching stroke. You gasp through the pain, gripping the sides of the sink so hard your knuckles turn white, god He’s so thick, it’s always felt like too much at times, but you want it, want him to take what he wanted, take you, take everything.

Have it all, because you were his now, a pawn in a lesson you had to learn.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the word muffled against the flesh of your shoulder. “God, you feel incredible.”

And it doesn’t take him long to set a brutal rhythm, thrusting hard and deep, each movement forcing your hips up against the cool marble, that was sure to mark your skin. The sounds that echoed in the space were filthy, slick and wet and loud enough to pierce the walls, and just when you felt yourself slipping Harry grabbed hold of your hair, yanking your head back so you would have to look at yourself, have to see the way your mouth dropped open, the way your eyes fluttered with every thrust as he bucked himself into you with no end in sight.

“You’re mine,” he forced, voice hot in your ear. “Don’t ever forget that.”

And you nod, too far gone to answer as he fucks you harder, pushing you right to the edge, not letting up even when your whimper turned to pleads.

“Say it,” he demands. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you cry out. “I’m yours, Harry, fuck—baby don’t stop”

Like the good girl you were, he rewards you by reaching down, rubbing your clit in rough circles, and this had you losing it again, coming so fucking hard that your vision goes white, and that’s just what he needed because he follows a second later, grinding his hips against you, and moaning out your name as if it were a blessing and a curse, collapsing onto your back as he comes inside you.

And for a long, quiet moment, all you could hear was your labored breaths mingling, and ragged as the distant hum of your electric toothbrush vibrated on the counter.

Harry pulled out with a breathy laugh, leaving you hollow as he turns you around so you’re facing him. He lifts you back onto the counter, forcing himself between your shaky legs, and hugs you so tight you almost can’t breathe as his head falls to your shoulder, and he holds you, your bodies sweaty and spent, but it feels good, it feels right.

“Next time,” he says breaking the silence, his voice muffled, “tell Shay it was four times, not three.”

And you start to laugh, helpless and sated, and he grins into your neck, his gentle hand splayed over your belly like he’s marking his territory.

“Lesson learned,” you breathed, and his smug smile is back in full swing, evidence that Harry is already planning your next punishment.

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