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strnilolover · 14 days ago

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⌗ . . . YOU LIKE IT OR NAH?

WARNINGS : SMUT. THIGH KISSING. ORAL (f & m receiving). 69 POSITION. and more?

matt had been gone on tour for weeks with his brothers. you’d facetime him here and there when he had the time too—but really it wasn’t ever enough for you.

you hadn’t facetimed him in a week or two. so when matt had shown up at your place after getting back home from tour—you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off of him.

he had let his beard grow out.

he never let it get to the length it was right now, always shaving it before it became too much. but now? you couldn’t deny that it was turning you on—seeing the dark hair line his jaw, the way his hand came up to rub at it. and god you couldn’t help but to think about his face between your thighs, feeling it rub against you.

it had been so long that you were ready to snap. the sexual tension in your body becoming too much—your fingers and toys weren’t enough while he was away.

so that’s how you ended up here—your legs on either side of him, straddling his lap. your mouths were on one another, teeth clashing and tongues fighting over one another until you gave in and let him take over.

he smirked against your lips, his arms wrapping around you and leaning you back. you gasped into his mouth, your hands coming up to thread into his hair as he laid you flat on your back against the sheets.

when he pulled away you were breathless. your lips pink and swollen, teeth already digging into your bottom lip as matt’s eyes raked over your figure. “it’s been so long sweetheart,” he whispered, his body already leaning down to trail light kisses along your stomach, down to your thighs. “did y’miss me that bad?” he already knew the answer to that—could feel the answer to it with how soaked your panties were.

“shut up.” you breathed, your body arching into the feeling of his lips against your already warm skin. your hands were still in his hair, tugging the strands lightly as he moved lower, his lips finally kissing along your thighs. you could feel the way his beard was already rubbing against you—and fuck it felt amazing.

matt chuckled, letting his teeth nip at the sensitive flesh making you yelp. “y’like it? or nah?” he asked, placing another kiss to your inner thigh, allowing you time to answer. you nod quickly, “yes. fuck—i love it.” you admit.

he hums, poking his tongue out to run over his lips. “knew you would.” he muttered before going back down, this time placing his lips higher and closer to your soaked pussy. gently he brought a hand up, letting his fingers ghost against the edge of your panties before slowly dipping them underneath and tugging them to the side.

“look at you.” he cooed, his eyes now staring at your bare core. his thumbs come up, one pressing onto your clit, rubbing in small circles before pulling away just as fast as his touch came. you whined, hips bucking up toward him, but he just laughed—letting his thumbs trail down, spreading your folds apart. he licked his lips before putting them together, blowing cold air against your pussy, making you jolt.

“matt!” you squeaked, your legs trying to close around his head from the sensation. but his body was in the way, his arms wrapping around your thighs and holding you open. before you could let out another word, his tongue found your clit. the wet muscle moving in slow circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. a moan slipped from your lips, your hips rolling up slowly to create more friction.

his eyes watched the way your face contorted, sucking in sharp breaths when his tongue found the right spot. he was going so slow, like he wanted to savor this moment between your thighs forever. your mind began to go blank from his tongue, not having a care in the world except how good he felt.

your head lifted, eyes peering down at him as he buried himself deeper into your cunt. you bit your lip, gripped his hair harder and pulling him closer to you. he looked so good—you wish he could stay there forever, but really you wanted something else.

you wanted to suck him off.

your hand tugs his hair again, but not closer, no. but to tug him up. reluctantly he let you drag him back, not wanting to leave your fold so soon. he was panting, eyes dark and blown, his mouth shiny with your slick. your fingers trailed his jaw, watching the way it clenched until your eyes tracked further down, eyeing the hard outline of his cock that was still trapped in his sweats.

you couldn’t help but to stare for a moment, licking your own lips at the sight of it. you could feel how much you ached for him. “matt..” you mumbled, your eyes coming up to lock with his. “i wanna—I wanna suck you off while you eat me out.” and his eyes go wide. “what?” is all he said. and you look at him. “i want you to lay back. i wanna sit on your face while I suck your cock, please.” you begged, but you didn’t need to say more, matt’s head was already nodding. you bit your lip, grinning.

“take these off.” you breathed, your hand coming forward, tugging at his waistband. “now.” he wasted no time, sitting up just long enough to drag his pants and boxers down—his cock already flushed and leaking and big. next came his shirt, he tugged it over his head and tossed it somewhere in the room before moving back on the bed to lay down for you.

“c’mon get up here.” he said, leaning forward and reaching for your waist. he helped guide you forward, turning you around and setting yourself over him. and the moment your thighs straddled his face—your body stretched out over him, your own mouth hovering over his cock. you felt his hands on your ass. squeezing the flesh and giving you a light smack before positioning you just right, pulling you down onto his mouth moments later.

you gasped at the sudden contact, the sound quickly turned into a moan—high-pitched and needy as his tongue began to slid between your folds again. his beard rubbing against your skin once more, only adding to how sensitive you were.

your lips finally wrapped around the head of his cock, your tongue flicking against the slit, and he groaned loud into your cunt, hips bucking up toward your mouth. he slid deeper, hitting the back of your throat in one stroke, the sound of his groan sent vibrations right through you—straight to your core—and you had to brace yourself with both hands on his thighs.

“mmph—just like that sweetheart, doing so good.” he rasped between your folds, his mouth then moving up to suck your clit between his lips, making your body tremble more. you tried to focus on your task, moaning around his length as you took more of him in, letting your spit drip down the sides. your hand gripping what you couldn’t fit, stroking him in rhythm with your mouth. but every time his tongue pressed in deeper into you—your mouth stopped, letting him rest in your mouth as you ground your hips against his face—practically humping him.

but his grip on your hips tightened, holding you still and stopping your movements before landing a smack to your ass, a signal to tell you to keep going. his tongue everywhere. lips wrapped around your clit, face buried in your pussy like it was his last meal. your thighs were beginning to shake—moans muffled around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut with each drag of his mouth. it was filthy—the sounds of you both moaning into each other, wet and obscene, and desperate.

“can’t believe how fuckin’ sweet you taste.” he breathed, pulling back just to watch as you clenched around nothing. “missed this pussy so much, baby—swear I almost lost my mind.” and he was right back between your folds. you whimpered against the base of his cock, licking and sucking him deeper, your hand now working what your mouth couldn’t handle.

you could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, your stomach beginning to draw taut. your head bobbed up and down faster, pulling all the way up to suck on the tip of his cock before moving back down, letting the tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly. you gagged around him, your eyes rolling back as he started to fuck you faster with his tongue, matching the speed you were going.

your back arched, mouth falling off his cock with a broken gasp, your hips grinding your pussy against his tongue once more until you came. your thighs locked around his head and he just kept going, eating you through it, his beard rubbing against your swollen cunt, your cries muffled against his stomach.

you laid there for a moment, absolutely spent. but you didn’t want to leave him like this. so it wasn’t long before you were leaning back down, mouth finding him again. “your turn.” you whispered, voice hoarse. and you took him in again—feeding the head of his cock into your mouth until he was deep in your throat. you relaxed around him, your hand tight at the base. you wanted to taste him.

you continued the same pace from before, feeling him slide against your tongue. you didn’t care how messy you were, letting all your spit drip from the corners of your mouth—you just wanted him to cum. he was panting into your pussy now, his tongue dragging lazily between your folds, but his hips started twitching. you could feel how close he was—how badly he wanted to cum.

you hollowed your cheeks and moaned around him, fingers reaching down and gently cupping his balls, moving them in your hand. he moaned, head tipping back as his fingers dig into your skin. “f-fuck—gonna cum.”

you didn’t stop. you kept going. your mouth and hands working his cock until his balls drew taut, his hips pushing up deep one last time as came with a load groan. ropes of cum spilled down your throat—his hips stuttering beneath you. and you pulled away slowly, swallowing everything, then kissed the tip sweetly before moving away.

when you finally moved off him, you both collapsed onto the bed next to one another—sweaty, panting, ruined. you shifted, draping half of your body over his own and his arms came out to wrap around your waist, dragging you closer to him. he pressed a kiss to your head, tucking you into his neck.

“does this mean i should keep it?” he asked, chuckling slightly. you nodded into the crook of his neck, pressing a light kiss there in return. “definitely.”

a/n : in honor of matt’s beard (this seems rushed i am SORRY)

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jinxbabys · 2 months ago

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cw: sub-bottom vi. fem-top reader. mild age gap (vi is older than you). strap-on referred to as cock. 18+ only.

synopsis: you can’t seem to stay away from your best friend’s older sister.

you tell yourself that it’s a fleeting crush, one that will fade with time, but it never does—not when vi tousles your hair in passing, when she drapes one of her strong arms around your shoulders, when she teases you in that low, knowing voice that makes heat coil in your belly. each gesture is small, yet tectonic—a slow erosion of your resolve.

then, the line you swore you’d never cross fades into obscurity, because vi is lying beneath you in her childhood bed, keening every time your cock stabs meanly into her cervix. maybe it’s her punishment for keeping your relationship a secret, or maybe you just like the way her breath catches in high, broken notes.

vi’s bedroom is a capsule of the past—neglected ever since she moved out. dusty corners, sun-faded posters, decade-old sheets that cling uncomfortably to damp skin. although, you hardly notice it; all you can focus on is vi—her rosy cheeks, her blown pupils, her trembling muscles. violet, violet, violet.

”baby,” she breathes, wrecked, reverent. “fuuuck, fuck—please!”

she’s so cute, so sweet for you. you feel the sudden urge to trail soft kisses down her neck; a tenderness that’s at odds with the way you’re fucking her like a whore.

of course, guilt lingers in the back of your mind, takes a shadowy shape in the corner of the room, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. powder will be pissed when she finds out, but how can she expect you to stay away from her sister when vi spreads her legs so eagerly for you? when her little hole is so needy for your cock? this was inevitable, like a bruise rising beneath skin.

“hnnghh! ohhh, shit—haaah!” she pants as you rock your hips.

it almost doesn’t feel real—like some fever dream your mind conjured up—because there’s no way you’re actually fucking your best friend’s big, bad older sister, turning her into a mewling kitten on your cock. but it’s clear this is no figment of your imagination. you can feel it with the way vi’s calloused fingers bite into your skin like anchors, trying to keep herself tethered, and how she pants against your neck.

winding your hips back, you groan at the way vi’s pussy is clinging onto your strap. it’s rather adorable that she has such a desperate little cunt. who would’ve guessed that vi, all sharp edges and snarled confidence, would melt into such a docile sweetheart when she has her hole filled? when the right button is pressed against deep inside her gummy walls?

her cheap, rickety twin-bed slams against the wall with each thrust, loud and jarring like the bang of a gunshot. “unghh! not so rough, fuck—“ vi gasps.

jeez, vi is ridiculous, acting as if you don’t know exactly what she needs. you have her memorized. if anything, she needs it rougher; you’re being far too tender. still, it’s cute and mildly humorous when vi acts like her pussy isn’t desperate for you, like you don’t know how to fuck her correctly, as if you don’t know her body better than she does. it’s evident that you’re the only one able to fill her cunt just right—scratching the itch that she, herself, can’t even reach.

“shhh,” you whisper placably, palm clasping over her mouth. “you don’t want your sister to hear us, right?”

she stiffens beneath you, almost imperceptibly, as though some buried instinct is still trying to protest. her eyes flash with something fractured—shame, arousal, both—and her nose crinkles beneath your palm.

“can we—unghh, fuck—not talk about that right now?” vi says, muffled and raspy. then she keens when the pad of your thumbs finds her clit, pressing down with perfect, punishing precision.

snickering, you rub her bundle of nerves quicker—clever and cruel.

“relax, vi. just feel me. you’re doing so good,” you coo, low and coaxing. vi whimpers like a stray dog—big, blue puppy eyes and all.

“god, you’re—mhgnn—annoying,” she replies abashedly.

“mmm, so mouthy, vi.”

still, despite how wrong this all is, a dark thrill coils in your chest as you watch vi’s internal struggle—how she tries so hard to resist your temptations, clings to the idea of being a good big sister—but vi’s body always betrays her in the end, and her pussy abruptly paints your abdomen in her saccharine squirt.

taglist: @2ftall @jinxedbambi @mxchi-mxxn @maddiluvsu @just4jinx @rhian88

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jaylaxies · 1 year ago

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ENHYPEN: eating you out

pairing: enhypen legal line x fem!reader

genre/cw: smut, cunnilingus, pussy slapping, face sitting, squirting, car sex, biting, edging, fingering, usage of nicknames.

wc: 861

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

requested: here!

Heeseung:

➤ Tease.

He’d slap your cunt gently, patting it a few times as you whimper and try to close your legs with how overstimulated you felt with the pleasure he gave you, yet he only chuckled, holding your thighs wide open for him, looking at you right in the eye as he bend down to lick a strip of your wet cunt, “fuck,” he groaned at your taste, losing his mind as he practically dived in to devour your pussy, lapping and sucking on your clit harshly, going faster when you cried out, your fingers gripping onto his roots, tugging harshly to the point he was groaning into your cunt, sending vibrations up your spine, causing your back to arch as you sharply inhaled, now clenching uncontrollably around his tongue, your release close. That’s when he stopped, smirking at you, his face covered in your wetness and his drool, “H—heeseung, please,” you begged, and he clicked his tongue, “be patient, doll. I’ll let you cum later.”

Jay:

➤ Worshiper.

He’d press the softest kisses all over your inner thighs as you gasp and look at him, his eyes would be shiny, almost as if he’s in love with every inch of you, his lips travelling up where you need him the most, “can I?” He’d ask softly, pressing the gentlest kiss on your clit when you whisper out a yes. He’d have his eyes closed, his tongue tracing circles around your clit as you arched your back, letting him shove his two fingers into your wet cunt, his thrusts slow and mouth warm on your skin, “so pretty,” he’d mumble against your sensitive bundle of nerves, “all fucking mine now.” He’d kiss your clit again, “fucking mine,” he’d growl into your cunt, getting more desperate by the second as your moans get louder, fueling his desperation to make you fall apart on his tongue, and that’s exactly what he achieves when you cry out his name, gripping on to your sheets in a fist as he laps up every single drop of your cum.

Jake:

➤ Munch.

He’d be absolutely down bad the second he spreads your legs, your cunt is the only thing on his mind, and that’s precisely all what he cares about, especially when you’re in front of him. He’s too drunk on your cunt, his plush lips kissing and sucking on every inch of your pussy, the slurping noises resonating in the car when he devours your cunt as if he’s been hungry for ages. There’s no way for him to stop, not until he’s satisfied. He doesn’t care that his face is covered in your juices or that you’re absolutely crying and begging him to slow down, he would be too dazed to hear you, dead set on giving you the best orgasm, “fuck,” he’d mumble, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, practically making you squirt all over his face as he rests his cheek on your thigh, looking up at you with lovesick heart eyes.

Sunghoon:

➤ Flirt.

“You like when I do that, kitten?” He’d ask, smirking between your legs, his tongue caressing your clit in the slightest touch, a gasp leaving your lips as you gripped the bed sheets, “looks like you do,” he chuckles right into your cunt, as if trying to make you lose the last bit of your mind, incoherent words leaving your mouth as you bucked up your hips involuntary to reach your climax which you were ever so desperate for. “You’re such a good kitten for me, so pretty all spread out for me, so desperate, listening to me like a pretty little doll,” he mumbled, fucking his tongue into your mouth, drooling all over to taste your cum, just for his own pleasure.

Sunoo:

➤ Freaky.

He would have you sitting on his face, your cunt spread out for him perfectly in a way that he could devour your pussy, licking and sucking religiously as he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. “You’re sitting exactly where you belong, darling,” he chuckled, voice crisp even after as he pauses to look up at your tear stained face. Oh how he loved seeing you cry, he loved how sensitive you were and he loved how loud you moaned when he bit on your thighs, going back in to your cunt, sucking on your clit mercilessly to the point you flooded his mouth with your release, which he lapped up with a hungry gaze.

Jungwon:

➤ Playful.

“Like it, angel?” He slapped your cunt, your whines of pleasure getting louder as you shook your head no, which was a complete lie, “no? Tch, I think you love it, baby,” he whispered, kissing down your stomach, till he reached your cunt, winking up at you before immersing himself in eating you out, head crushed in between your thighs as you suffocated him exactly how he liked, chuckling and biting your clit slightly to see your body jerk with pain, “so fucking tasty,” he mumbled, licking up big stripes and grabbing your tits to squeeze them harshly, to hear the moans of his name reverberate all over the room.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #kpop smut #enhypen #enha smut #enhypen reactions

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rafesangelita · 7 months ago

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♡ in an attempt to get sheep!reader to be more vocal about what she wants in bed, rafe only gives her what she’s able to say..

warnings: heavyyy teasing, corruption kink (?), fingering, lots of dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, light fluff

a/n: i see your req’s for more sheep!reader works, don’t worry i’ll be working on them soon! <3

wc: 1.8k

“come on, ‘pretty, all you have to do is use your words..” rafe’s eyes traveled down your naked form, his fingers ghosting over the soft flesh of your thighs. this was absolute torture. “rafe, i can’t!” you cried, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. your boyfriend took so much pleasure in knowing that you were far too shy to ask for what you wanted, a smug grin gracing his lips as heavy tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you looked away from him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “i won’t say it..” you mumbled, gasping softly when rafe dipped a finger between your glossy folds.

“won’t say what?” he taunted, barely stroking your clit before pulling his hand away. you let out a shaky breath, meeting his eyes for the first time during this whole ordeal. “please.” you whimpered pathetically, hoping, begging, rafe will give into your pleas. rafe shook his head, giving your side a little pinch. “i don’t know what you’re asking for.” he shrugged, his cock aching against his briefs. you drew your eyebrows together, your heart beating in your ears as you considered your next words. “i want you to touch me..” you whispered, your chest rising and falling as rafe offered you a teasing smile.

“touch you where? here?” he placed a hand on your knee, “here?” your arm was next, “..or here?” you whined in frustration when you felt his palm rest on your tummy. rafe was purposely making this hard for you, and he was enjoying every second of it. “no!” you spread your thighs in hopes to draw his attention elsewhere. sure enough, rafe looked down, his jaw ticking at the sight of your puffy folds. “fuck.” he cursed under his breath. “i need you down there..” you trailed a foot down his torso, stopping right below his v-line. rafe knew you what you trying to do.

“i don’t know where ‘down there’ is.. i think you have to explain it to me, doll.” rafe wasn’t going to let up. you started thinking of ways to word yourself, the implications of what you had to say only made you more embarrassed. ‘vagina’ felt too proper to use in this situation, ‘pussy’ was too lewd for your liking, and ‘cunt’ sounded so aggressive, you didn’t know what to make of it. swallowing thickly, you knew rafe wanted to hear you say the second option more than anything. in your mind, you thought if you said the dirtiest thing, he would have to give you what you were crying for.. right?

“i want you to touch my—” rafe leaned forward. no fucking way you’d say it. “m-my pussy?” it was comical, seeing the way you avoided his heated gaze. rafe had never heard a curse word fall from your lips, let alone that word specifically. “was that so hard?” rafe laughed, sitting between your thighs as he spread you open, his cock twitching at the sight of your glistening succulence dripping down your cunt. with the pad of his thumb, rafe began circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, the long awaited sensation making your hips roll forward. “don’t move.” he warned, keeping a hand on your hip.

you shuddered, settling into your soft sheets as rafe then prodded a finger at your entrance. he teased your slit, slipping just the tip of his digit inside before gathering your slick and gliding the wetness up to your clit. “feeling empty, huh?” rafe saw you pathetically clench around nothing, your eyebrows knitting together in desperation. “y-yes, please! ‘want your fingers now.” rafe was pleasantly surprised, the second time around seemed to be more easier than the first time you requested something. “look at you, you’re doing great, baby.” your boyfriend praised you, deciding to reward you with two fingers instead of one.

your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the stretch of two digits inside your cunt, your mouth falling open as you hiccuped at the feeling of rafe’s long, thick fingers curling inside of you. still using his thumb to rub your clit, you cried out when you felt him press on that gummy spot that made you see stars. “o-oh!” you whimpered, your thighs shutting around rafe’s hand. forcing your thighs open, rafe leaned his weight on one of your legs, and used his free hand to pin down the other one, forcing you to take what he gave you. “you look so pretty when you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

rafe’s words sounded muffled, your heart beating in your ears when you felt the familiar heat start to simmer in your tummy. your hand rested on top of rafe’s, his fingers interlacing with yours. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” he leaned down, taking your lips in a searing kiss, “gonna make you cum, is that what you want?” you nodded helplessly, in which rafe tsked. “say it. say that’s what you want.” he urged. with the quietest tone you could muster, you spoke. “please make me cum..” rafe would’ve appreciated you saying it a little bit louder, but he figured he was lucky if he got you to say it at all.

picking up his speed on your clit, he watched with dark eyes as your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your lips swollen from rafe nipping at them. the wet sounds of your cunt made your cheeks heat, your chest caving in as you teetered the edge of pure euphoria. your hand shot up to grip rafe’s arm, your nails digging into his skin as your thighs trembled from your high washing over you. rafe always stared at you in awe whenever he pushed you over the edge, the little sounds leaving your lips never failed to drive him crazy while your velvety walls squeezed around his digits.

“nghh— rafe!” you squeaked, a string of sobs tumbling from your throat as he continued to bring you down from your high. rafe littered your neck and chest with wet kisses, your fingers running across his scalp. you whimpered when rafe pulled away, your eyes trailing down his toned stomach as he slid off his briefs. wrapping a hand around your ankle, you yelped when he yanked you towards the edge of the bed, running his cock over your still fluttering cunt. “tell me you want me to fuck you,” he groaned when he felt your slick coat his length, “tell me you want my cock inside you.”

you were hysterical at this point, bending at his will as you did what he asked. “please fuck me, ray. ‘want y-your cock inside me!” you repeated, your back arching off of the sheets when he slammed into you without warning. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” rafe leaned down, caging you between his arms, “hearing you talk like that, s’driving me fuckin’ crazy.” you wrapped your legs around his waist, his biceps on either sides of your head. he filled you to the hilt in this position, bottoming out as his pubic bone grazed your clit with every thrust.

your eyes fluttered shut as you held him close to you, his breath fanning against your cheek as he whispered the filthiest obscenities in your ear. nothing else existed when you two were like this. it was like the world stopped spinning whenever he felt you taking him so good. “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he squished your cheeks together with one hand, your eyebrows knitting together as you gazed up at him, “always so pliant with me, ‘makes me wanna see what other fucked up shit i could make you do.” he chuckled, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

rafe could see the slight fear in your eyes, a gentle ‘shhh’ leaving his lips as an attempt to reassure you. “don’t worry, we’ll save that for another day.” he pecked your cheek, his hips snapping into you faster than before. you held onto his broad shoulders, the sound of his skin smacking against yours made you want to curl in on yourself, the lewd echo of it bouncing off of the walls. soon your legs were feeling like jelly and you couldn’t keep them locked around rafe’s build. sensing your struggle, he pinned the back of your knees against your chest, getting a full, clear view of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

“ah, fuckkk,” rafe drawled out, absolutely hypnotized at the sight. he glided with ease, your folds hugging him snugly. the grip you had on his cock was enough to make his muscles constrict with the need to fill you up, your pretty clit glistening with his precum. “m’gonna need to film this next time, you’re fuckin’ unreal.” he choked back a groan when you somehow managed to clamp around him even tighter. “h-holy shit,” rafe’s hips stuttered, his face scrunching when he began twitching, your second orgasm of the night hitting you with more force than the first one.

as if on cue, rafe peaked when you gripped the knitted blanket at your side, both of you moaning so loud you were sure ms. celia, the sweet old lady next door, could hear you two. rafe didn’t stop fucking into you until every last drop of his cum was lost in the heaven that was your cunt, his eyes rolling back when he stayed nestled inside of you. rafe helped your legs back down, your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. swallowing thickly, rafe sighed as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your hairline. “my god..” he looked at you incredulously.

how you had that innocent sparkle in your eyes right after doing what you did was beyond him. “that wasn’t so bad..” you whispered, running a finger down the underside of rafe’s jaw. “no, not at all. you did amazing.” he was still inside you when he leaned all his weight on you. you always felt so safe and secure every time rafe did this. you reveled in the feeling of his heart beating against your own, your eyelids heavy as sleep threatened to come over you. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe mumbled. you giggled, a lazy smile gracing your features.

as much as you would’ve loved that, a hot shower was far more needed. after ten minutes of convincing rafe you two should get cleaned up for bed, and after round two ensued under the shower head, you and your boyfriend had finally cuddled up under the sheets, his warm skin mingling with yours. once you two exchanged ‘i love you’s’, you were out like a light. the next morning you had went out and checked the mail, spotting ms. celia rocking on her chair with her morning coffee in her hand. “good morning!” you waved, in which she smiled. “how did you sleep, dear?”

“just fine! i had a pretty long night..” butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the memory. “oh, i bet! it sure sounded like it.”

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dahlibae · 6 months ago

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MOMMYS SMART GIRL.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — you finally graduated, finally a real adult, but you’ll always be wanda’s little girl.

warning(s) — drabble: age gap couple, smut, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), tribbing, overstimulation, nipple suckling, mommy wanda, reader experience lil sub drop, aftercare! (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“You’re such a pretty little baby.” Wanda praised, her fingers sinking deep inside you as your body rocked back and forth against the soft sheets below.

Today had been a very special day for you both. You had finally graduated college, a milestone that had felt so far away when you first walked onto campus, uncertain of what the future would hold. But here you were, already stepping into the next chapter with a corporate job lined up in the city. You couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of all the hard work that had led you to this moment.

But as much as this day was about you, it was also about Wanda. She had been your constant, your anchor, since freshman year. When you met, neither of you could have known the journey you’d embark on together. From late-night study sessions in her home office to early morning coffee runs, she had been by your side. She'd supported you through every breakdown, every tear-streaked face as you questioned your worth, your place in the world. And somehow, she always knew exactly what to say to pull you back from the edge.

Through every stressful exam, every late-night cram session, she had been there, not just as a girlfriend, but as your best friend. She knew your weaknesses and loved you anyway. She was your strength when you felt weak and your safe space when the world outside felt too big and too overwhelming. You could still remember the way she held you the night before your biggest presentation, whispering sweetest words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

She always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.

“Such a smart girl. Been so good all year, haven’t you? I’m so proud of you.” She cooed, as she curled her fingers, expertly brushing your walls with a soft pressure she knew you loved. “But you don’t have to use your brain now, okay? Let Mommy take care of you.”

“Mhmm.” You managed to reply, your mind immediately emptied from her soothing words.

“Good girl.” She emphasised with one last kiss to your lips, before trailing down your body to your hips. There, she gently nipped your protruding bones before making her way to your thighs, biting and licking her way up to between your legs. She leaned down; a long, slow lick up your slit, her tongue pushed flat against your clit, as she circled your bundle of nerves.

The added stimulation was almost too much. Your head became even more fuzzy as you whined and twisted in each direction. Unsure of whether you wanted to escape her touch or draw her in closer. You reached down and grabbed her blonde curls, deciding you needed her closer, needed to finish, as you rocked your hips in into her mouth.

It took Wanda all but 3 seconds to recognise your slight tug and she released your clit, climbing back up your body, “What is it, baby? You don’t wanna cum?”

You replied, “Yes, Mommy. Just want you close.”

She should’ve known, whenever you were so deep in this headspace, you had always wanted to feel Wanda close. Restraints hadn’t worked out for you both the first time, leaving you vigorously upset being denied the chance to feel her close as you came.

She hadn’t moved quick enough and you started to whine before she cut you off, “Okay, baby. I’m right here.” She pressed herself over you, before deciding she wanted to come aswell. She moved your legs into position, spread far apart for her body to fit between, before pressing herself down against you. She tested the new position with a few rocks of her hips that had you head thrown back, mewling abashedly into her hair.

“Oh, does that feel good, baby?”

Your response was another moan.

She rocked her hips harder, feeling herself build at the feeling of your clit brushing against hers. The sight of your breasts bouncing as she thrusted into you turned her on even more, her arousal building dangerously fast. She knew she couldn’t be too hard—too rough— with you right now. And so, she slowed, and held you in her arms, tucking her head into your neck as she whispered sweet nothings, “You’re gonna make me cum. You feel so good, baby. You wanna cum with Mommy?”

She felt your hip snap up to hers, chasing the feeling as you began to fall over the edge, and she revelled in the way you curled into her form. She pulled back for a second just enough to be able to fit her hand between as she pressed hard circles against your clit, drawing out your orgasm enough until the pleasure became painful. Your body trembled as you sobbed carelessly into her curls. She was on you again, thrusting fast against your pussy. Her arousal now at its peak, and she too fell over the edge. Her own moans released into your curls.

Her movement slowed but didn’t stop and the overstimulation caused you to cry out. She shushed you gently, stroking your cheek gently as she got off of you, and pulled you into her chest. “Good girl. You did so well, my love.”

You fisted at your eyes, the warm tears burning against your skin.

“You know Mommy loves you, right?” She pulled you closer in, her bare breast flush against your cheek as she offered you one to suckle on, while her fingers wiping the remnants of your tears before pressing light kisses to your face.

You hummed in agreement. Your brain still unable to form proper words and also your mouth now busy attached to her nipple. But your eyes fluttered shut, suddenly not feeling so intense and emotional anymore. The calm buzz that usually followed after sex with Wanda finally set in.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

#dahlibae fics! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut

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littlelovelunette · 1 month ago

Note

Hello♥️ I had this idea of Sevika and reader having sex for the first time after the reader had a baby, just some careful and gentle smut<3 (And maybe kinky breast milk stuff? 👉🏼👈🏼)

Lifting (3)

Sevika x New Mother!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Sex, lactation play, sex after childbirth, mating press, nipple play, slight suffocation, g!p Sevika, drinking breast milk in sex, breeding.

The baby was deep asleep. Sevika had done all the things you'd never thought you'd see her do. She had the nursery painted a pastel colour, bought all sorts of toys she could all the way from Topside. Rose was her absolute weakness after you. The way her small fist closed around Sevika's thumb as she slept on, drooling from the corner of her plush pink lips.

All the softness aside, due to the healing time you needed after giving birth, you and Sevika hadn't been engaging in anything even mildly sexual. Sevika didn't want to be the one to bring up the matter but you've seen the way she eyes you when you breastfeed your baby girl. You've seen the way she loves to stare whenever you're bending down to grab the laundry basket. She was like a desperate dog in heat, shameless about it too.

Once you told her it was okay to feel that way, she didn't hold back. Her cock lined against your slit as her hands massaged the sides of your body, "I'll go slow if you want me to," Sevika said, her voice low to not wake Rose up who was asleep in her crib next room.

You nodded, looking down where her cock head was already dripping precum at the mere sight of your beautiful pussy lips drenched with your own arousal from anticipation, hole twitching with the hopes of getting fucked hard.

Slowly, her cock slipped inside. The first few inches felt overwhelmingly big before the stretch made you wince uncomfortably, fingers digging into the sheets as your other hand grabbed Sevika's flesh arm, "H-hurts a little, wait..."

Sevika paused, her shaft halfway inside your pussy as she waited for you to get used to the girthiness. She rubbed your lower abdomen, "It's okay, sweetie. You're doing well, just take deep breaths." She said in a tone softer than her usual. "Let me know when it's okay to move."

You nodded your head nervously, gasping when Sevika's thumb found your clit, rubbing slow yet deliberate circles around it. "Yeah? That feels good?" Sevika teased gently as she pressed a little harder onto the bundle of nerves. You yelped out softly but then bit down onto Sevika's neck to keep your volume low.

Sevika didn't stop, her finger still easing circles around your twitching clit. Your legs wrapped around her waist as you pulled her flush against your own body, "Sev," you whispered needily, pulling her closer so her cock sunk deeper into your pussy. It disappears against your tight opening, stretching you out all the way. You moaned softly, walls fluttering around her in need, "I need you to rail me hard," you muttered.

Sevika smirked a little, "Yeah? You want daddy to pound you in?"

You nodded with a little shy giggle, gasping again when she bottomed out. "Oh!"

You bit down her neck again making Sevika groan, her brows furrowed as she started thrusting in a steady pace, the tip of her huge cock grinding deliciously against your cervix.

"Daddy, please, harder," the bed creaked dangerously as Sevika held your thighs with both hands and folded you.

You whimpered, her cock reaching deeper into your wet cavern. Sevika let go of your thighs and squeezed your tits making you gasp for air, her thrusts were brutal and you were almost suffocating because of the intensity of how she was pounding you into the mattress. All the wet schlik sounds that filled the room was enough to make your cheeks glow red, fingers clutching the bedsheets so tight than your knuckles went white. It had been a while since you both fooled around so it was ten times more intense than the usual.

Sevika squeezed your breasts a little harder than before a small amount of milk spurted out. She stopped, eyes wide with a little bit of surprise dancing within the grey orbs before it dissolved into amusement. "Oh?"

You hid your face with your hands in embarrassment, but Sevika's warm, bigger hands pulled yours down from your face. "Don't be shy now, baby, you're so hot," Sevika rutted her hips into your body harshly making her dick sink deep and hard.

"Ah!" You cried out, watching as Sevika's plush lips wrapped around your hardened nipple. She suckled softly at the start before she gave it a powerful suck, milk oozing out of the nub and filling her mouth. Sevika smiled against your skin.

"You're such a baby," you mumbled, playing with her hair as you squeezed down on her length.

"Mhm?" Sevika chuckled before she tugged at your nipple using her teeth, you jerked a little from sensitivity.

"Don't do that!" You whimpered, gasping for air once again as Sevika's hips continued rutting her length into you albeit a little sloppier than before as she got closer and closer. "Sev!" Your head lolled back, "Cumming!"

Sevika looked up at you, mouth partially full of milk. "Mm," she bottomed out two more times before her warm seed filled your insides up. She swallowed, "There we go, my baby mama," she grinned victoriously, "Once again, pumped full."

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areislol · 9 months ago

Text

being transported into their world 2

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, proofread 🙅��‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! boothill lore, slight angst sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. so many ideas but so little time to write it all down!!

►— wordcount. 6.2k

The last thing you remember is the image of Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya standing before you, the smokey, dark and ominous fog surrounding you.

Next thing you know, you're waking up in the middle of an unfamiliar weight of silk sheets pressing against your skin. Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on the ornate ceiling above, its intricate patterns swirling in the soft morning light.

This wasn’t your room.

Confusion gripped you as you sat up quickly, only to be greeted by a pounding headache. Wincing, you pressed your hand against your forehead, trying to make sense of the disjointed memories in your mind.

The room around you was lavish, decorated with rich tapestries and elegant furniture. Everything seemed meticulously placed as if the room belonged to royalty.

The air smelled faintly of lavender and something else you couldn’t quite place. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

Just how did you end up here?

Closing your eyes, you tried to recall the events that led to this moment. It all came back in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror.

You were standing up, shrouded in a dark, smokey fog. The air had been thick and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. Before you, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya stood with expressions of worry and determination. Their faces flashed in your mind, each one etched with concern.

Were you in a dream?

The fog, the faces—it all seemed so surreal. You opened your eyes again, scanning the room for any clues. The furniture was heavy and ornate.

A grand mirror stood in one corner, reflecting the dishevelled state of your appearance. Your clothes were the same as before but seemed out of place in this opulent setting.

Pushing the covers aside, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cool marble floor beneath your feet. The pounding in your head persisted, but you forced yourself to stand, determined to get out of this unknown place.

Each step felt like a struggle, your body weighed down by an invisible force. You approached the window, drawing back the heavy curtains to reveal a breathtaking view of a cityscape blanketed in snow.

Tall, imposing buildings of grand architecture stretched out before you, their intricate designs dusted with white. The streets below were covered in a moderate layer of snow, and the occasional figure bundled in winter attire moved through the frosty landscape.

Your mind raced with possibilities. Had you been transported here by some unknown force? Was this just a particularly long dream? Shaking your head you cleared your mind, yes... it was a dream, it had to be a dream.

Besides suddenly waking up from an unfamiliar room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched since the moment you awoke. Turning away from the window, you noticed a door on the far side of the room. It was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of the hallway beyond.

Cautiously, you approached the door, your senses on high alert. Peeking through the crack, you saw a long corridor lined with more doors, each one identical to the next. The silence was eerie, broken only by the faint sound of your breathing.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider and stepped into the hallway. You wished that the floor was covered in carpet, it was extremely cold. You had no idea where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that room any longer.

Turning a corner, you nearly bumped into a figure standing in the shadows. Startled, you took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. The figure stepped forward, revealing a familiar face.

Grey hair, a pretty face, tall... the Astral Express golden ticket... wait...

“Caelus?” you whispered, barely daring to believe it.

Caelus’s eyes widened as he registered your voice. His surprise quickly turned into awe, and he stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance. Without a moment's hesitation, he dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the cold, hard floor.

"Your Gracefulness," he murmured, his voice trembling with reverence. "I am honoured to be in your presence."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his reaction. It wasn’t the response you expected. To them, you were not just a friend or a fellow traveller; you were the creator, the one who shaped their very existence. The weight of his words made you feel uneasy.

"Uh, please, get up," you urged, feeling a mix of discomfort and compassion. "You don’t have to kneel."

He hesitated for a moment before slowly rising to his feet, his eyes still filled with awe, oh his dear creator, what a kind soul they are! "Forgive me, Your Gracefulness. It’s just... we’ve been searching for you, and to find you here..."

Caelus was sure that he would get a scolding for talking to his Holy Grace for too long, he was sure of it. But he just couldn't stop the words pouring out of his mouth, all the years of yearning to meet you... and now you were here, right in front of him, before his eyes.

You offered a small nervous, reassuring smile despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. "I—I see." You bit your bottom lip, completely uncertain of what to do now as you stand there awkwardly with a curious Caelus.

"What... happened? I don't recall being here from the start," You asked, taking a moment to observe the ornaments around you. Caelus straightens his back, clearing his throat before speaking.

"You fainted a few minutes after coming out of the meteoroid. Thankfully Dan Heng caught you just in time, and then Bronya decided to keep you here, we were unsure when you would wake up."

"How long was I unconscious for?"

"Four days, your Grace."

"FOUR DAYS?!" The word came out in a disbelieving whisper, your mind reeling.

"Yes, your Grace." He nodded, a bit taken aback by your raised voice. You stood there, trying to process the information, feeling awkward and out of place.

Caelus's expression softened slightly before giving you a nod. "I'll take you to them." He guided you down the hall to another room, while you both walked you looked around once again, everything was different, not just your surroundings but the atmosphere was heavy.

You took in a deep breath, trying your best to calm yourself down. You knew that you were safe (although this place was still new to you), you knew these people, what they were like, everything.

They were famous video game characters. The very video game characters that you spend weeks on trying to find the right and perfect relic for them.

Honkai Star Rail drained your pockets, the lore and story were addictive, the play-style was addictive, and the pulling animation was addictive. Unsurprisingly, after a week of downloading the game, you were hooked.

It was a surprise that you weren't in debt... You shook your head, clearing your clouded mind. It was tough to digest the fact that you were walking right beside the Caelus!!

It was a silent walk with only the sounds of his shoes squeaking every there and then, it was clear how polished the floors were.

Caelus dared not to speak up in your holy presence. Was he even worthy of speaking to you let alone bask in your presence?

As you continued down the hallway, Caelus remained close by, his protective instincts heightened by your presence. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, each one identical to the last.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, and the oppressive silence only added to your unease.

Calm down, you thought. No one's going to jump you..

Not long after Caelus stopped in his tracks, moving to the side as his hand rested on the door handle. The door was huge and elaborate, probably three times your size, and you finally heard faint voices.

Caelus signalled for you to stay back as he approached the source of the sound. Moments later, he beckoned you forward. You hurried to his side, peering into a large room filled with familiar faces.

As you entered, Dan Heng, Bronya, and Gepard looked up from their conversation. Relief, admiration and shock washed over their faces when they saw you.

"Your Gracefulness," Dan Heng said, bowing his head slightly. "I—It's a pleasure to meet you."

Everyone in the room had stood up from the seats, immediately bowing down with one knee, their eyes set downcast, refusing to even look at you. They remained solemn and reverent, their gestures filled with respect and devotion—an act that left you utterly speechless.

The room was silent, barely even a breath could be heard. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, a deep discomfort settling into your bones.

This wasn’t something you were used to.

Back home, you were just another person, another face in the crowd. But here… here you were something else entirely apparently.

The realization struck you again, hard and jarring: you’d been "isekai’d" into the world of Honkai: Star Rail, a place where the characters you once guided and watched from behind a screen now saw you as their Creator, their Gracefulness.

But that didn’t make this any less strange.

"Please," you said, your voice shaky, betraying the unease you felt. "You don't need to do that. I'm just… I mean, I’m not—" You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

How do you tell them that you didn’t see yourself as anything more than a normal person? That this whole situation felt surreal, like a dream you hadn’t quite woken up from yet?

Dan Heng, still kneeling, glanced up at you, his eyes calm and steady. "Your Gracefulness," he began, his tone soft but firm, "It is only right that we show you the respect you deserve. You are our creator, the one who has guided us through countless battles and decisions."

Bronya nodded, her gaze filled with a mixture of awe and dedication. "Without you, we wouldn’t be who we are today. This is the least we can do to honour your presence."

Gepard remained silent but his expression was resolute, as if nothing you said could change his mind about bowing before you. Caelus, however, looked a bit hesitant, perhaps sensing your discomfort more than the others. Yet, even he remained in place, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. It was overwhelming, this level of devotion and reverence. It wasn’t something you ever imagined experiencing, and certainly not something you knew how to handle.

You’d come here, to this world, not out of a desire to rule or be worshipped, but by some strange twist of fate. The weight of their expectations, their respect—it felt heavy, almost suffocating.

"I appreciate… everything you’re saying," you began slowly, trying to find the right balance between acknowledging their feelings and setting boundaries. "But really, you don’t have to bow to me. I’m still… me. Just a person. I’m not used to this, and it makes me feel… awkward."

The room fell into a brief silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You could see the conflict in their eyes—caught between their ingrained sense of duty and their desire to respect your wishes.

Finally, Caelus was the first to move, rising to his feet with a small, understanding smile. "If it makes you uncomfortable," he said, "then we’ll try to find another way to show our respect. But know that our loyalty for you remains unchanged."

One by one, the others followed suit, standing slowly. Gepard gave you a respectful nod, while Bronya offered a gentle smile, her previous intensity softening. Dan Heng lingered the longest, his gaze searching your face as if trying to understand you better, before finally standing as well.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, a small wave of relief washing over you. This was all so new, so overwhelming, but at least now, with them standing, you felt like you could breathe a little easier.

Even if you were their creator, you didn’t want to be put on a pedestal. You just wanted to go home.

"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice sincere. "I really appreciate it."

And with that, the tension in the room eased, the atmosphere shifting back to something more comfortable, more manageable. You were still trying to wrap your head around everything, but at least now, you didn’t feel so alone in it.

"We were worried about you." Bronya stepped forward, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need a doctor? I can get them right away—"

You shook your head, trying to maintain your composure despite the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. "I'm alright," you said, but even as the words left your lips, you could feel the weight of them.

Your head was pounding, a relentless reminder of everything you had just been through. The disorientation, the headaches—symptoms of something far greater than mere confusion.

You were trying to grasp the reality that had been thrust upon you, the fact that you were no longer in your world, that you had died, and now… now you were here.

Dan Heng’s eyes softened as he watched you, his usually calm demeanour laced with a subtle concern. "It’s understandable that you’re disoriented," he said, his voice steady but filled with empathy.

"You’ve been through something unimaginable. Arriving here so suddenly… it’s not something anyone could easily adjust to."

You looked down, your mind flashing back to that moment—the car crash. The impact, the pain, the sudden darkness. You remembered the sensation of being pulled away, as if your very soul had been yanked from your body, only to be confined within something cold and unforgiving.

The next thing you knew, you were hurtling through the sky, encased in what felt like a stuffy coffin, and then… Belobog.

You winced, the memory of it all almost too much to bear. "What… what did you see when I arrived?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy and laden with the fear of hearing the answer.

Gepard, who had been standing a little behind the others, stepped forward, his expression sombre. "When you appeared… you were in some sort of meteorite. It was like nothing we’d ever seen before. It came crashing down from the sky, landing just outside the city walls of Belobog."

"There was news that this month, the creator would return. Everyone was on high alert and once one of my guards spotted a mysterious crater, everyone knew that it had to be you."

Caelus nodded, his tone still filled with concern. "It was like a shooting star, only… darker. And when we approached, we saw you inside, unconscious. We had no idea what to do, but we knew we had to get you out of there, to help you."

Bronya’s gaze softened as she watched you struggle to process their words. "You were in a state of complete stasis, almost as if you were… suspended between worlds. We’ve never encountered anything like it."

The room seemed to close in around you as you tried to reconcile what they were telling you with what you knew—or thought you knew. You had died. You felt it. And yet, here you were, standing in a world you had only ever seen on a screen, surrounded by people who weren’t supposed to exist.

A headache pulsed at your temples, and you pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to steady yourself. The world felt like it was spinning, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

Caelus immediately stood by your side, his hands hesitating to hold you before shaking his head ever so slightly, holding your arm and waist to keep you from falling.

"I… I don’t understand," you murmured, more to yourself than to them. "I died. I remember the crash. I remember everything going dark, how on Earth did I..."

Dan Heng took a step closer, his presence grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. "It must have been a traumatic experience," he said softly, his voice gentle as if he were trying not to overwhelm you further.

"But you’re here now. Whatever happened, whatever brought you here, I think it was fate, just like how the legends had stated."

You wanted to believe him, wanted to find comfort in his words, but the reality of it all was still too much.

How could you be here, alive, in a place that shouldn’t even exist? And what did it mean that they were treating you like this—as if you were someone of immense importance, someone with power, someone they called their "Gracefulness"?

"I’m sorry," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I just… I need a moment to process all of this."

Bronya stepped forward, her expression filled with understanding. "Take all the time you need. We’re here for you."

Gepard nodded in agreement, his voice steady and reassuring. "We’ll be by your side, your wish is our command."

You stood there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was happening now. The room felt both too large and too small at the same time as if the walls were closing in on you while the ceiling stretched out into infinity.

——

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity as you found yourself surrounded by a level of attention and care that was both overwhelming and humbling. Bronya, ever the efficient leader, took charge of organizing a grand celebration in honour of your return.

It was to be the most elaborate, grand and magnificent, parade ever. Only the best for their beloved creator.

The news of your arrival spread quickly, with messages sent across Belobog and even beyond, reaching the farthest corners of the world. Shops began to close in your honour, and preparations were set in motion to ensure that everything was perfect for the festivities that would last for months.

Caelus returned back to the Astral Express to spread the news to his friends who soon sent the message worldwide, especially to their alliances.

As the day wore on, you were never alone. Dan Heng and Gepard remained by your side, they would be your guards, though you couldn’t shake the feeling of being slightly out of place.

They escorted you through the grand halls of the Supreme Guardian’s residence, offering you a glimpse into the grandeur and history of Belobog.

The building itself was massive, with high ceilings, intricate carvings, and large windows that let in streams of light, casting everything in a golden glow.

Despite the opulence around you, your mind was still trying to adjust to the reality that had been put upon you. The remnants of your previous life, the memory of your death, the inexplicable warp that had brought you here—it all lingered in the back of your thoughts, creating an undercurrent of unease that you couldn’t quite shake.

But for now, you have to focus on the present. Gepard and Dan Heng took their roles seriously, ensuring that you were comfortable, well-fed, and taken care of in every possible way. When it was time to eat, you were treated to a feast of the finest foods Belobog had to offer, dishes prepared with such care and precision that you could taste the love in every bite.

They made sure you didn’t lift a finger, encouraging you to rest when you looked tired, and when the day began to take its toll on you, they arranged for a bath to be drawn in one of the grand, marble-floored bathrooms.

The bath was a welcome respite. The water was warm, and scented with calming herbs, and as you sank into it, you could feel the tension slowly melting away.

Maids attended to you, offering you soft towels and luxurious oils, treating you with a level of care that you had never experienced before. It was almost too much—this pampering, this constant attention—but you reminded yourself that this was how they showed their respect, their gratitude for your presence in their world.

After the bath, you were led to the room that had been prepared for you, its large windows offering a view of the snow-covered city below.

The bed was soft, the sheets made of the finest silk, and as you lay down, you couldn’t help but marvel at the turn your life had taken.

Just days ago, you had been living an ordinary life, unaware of what was to come, and now… now you were here, in a world that wasn’t supposed to exist, treated as a deity by those you had only known as characters.

Sure, today would have been amazing if it weren't for the fact of constant unease nagging you in the back, it was nice to be pampered and shown love, but at the same time, you wanted to go home, back to the place that you grew up in.

As you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the luxury and comfort that had been arranged for you, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last.

How long you would be able to maintain this facade, to accept the adoration and devotion of those around you when deep down, you still felt like the same person you had always been—just a regular human, trying to make sense of a world that didn’t make sense at all.

But for now, you had no choice but to go along with it, to embrace the role that had been thrust upon you, even if it felt like you were living in a dream.

A dream that, for better or worse, you couldn’t wake up from.

——

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of soft knocking on your door. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a pale light across the snow-covered city of Belobog.

You could see your breath in the cool air as you stretched, still disoriented from the events of the previous day. For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a strange, vivid dream—but the grand room around you, the luxurious sheets beneath your fingers, and the echo of voices beyond the door reminded you that this was indeed your reality now.

You called for whoever was outside to enter, and the door opened to reveal Dan Heng and Gepard, both standing tall and composed. Their expressions softened when they saw you, and you noticed the subtle way their shoulders relaxed, as if simply seeing you reassured them.

"Good morning," Dan Heng said quietly, his tone respectful yet warm. "I hope you slept well."

You nodded, managing a small smile. "I did, thank you."

Gepard stepped forward, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of concern and deference. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask. We've arranged for breakfast to be brought to you, and after that, if you're feeling up to it, Bronya would like to discuss the plans for the upcoming celebrations with you."

Celebrations. The word lingered in your mind, bringing with it a mix of emotions. You still weren’t sure how to feel about all of this—the way everyone seemed to look at you as if you were something divine.

It was overwhelming, and part of you wanted nothing more than to retreat, to find a quiet corner where you could process everything on your own. But you knew that wasn’t an option. You had a role to play, and even if you didn’t fully understand it, you were determined to do your best.

"I… appreciate that," you replied, your voice softer than you intended. "I’ll be ready soon."

As the two men left to give you privacy, you dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for you—a simple yet elegant outfit that, while comfortable, still bore the intricate designs and rich fabrics that seemed to be a hallmark of Belobog's fashion.

You took a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you reminded yourself that you were in control, even if it didn’t always feel like it.

When you were ready, Dan Heng and Gepard led you to a grand dining room where a lavish breakfast had been prepared. The table was set with an array of dishes—freshly baked bread, fruits, pastries, and steaming bowls of porridge.

The sight of it all made your stomach twist, not from hunger but from the sheer extravagance of it. You took a seat, and though the food was delicious, each bite felt heavy for some odd reason.

As you ate, Bronya arrived, her usual stoic demeanour softened by a hint of nervousness. She greeted you with a respectful nod before taking a seat across from you. You noticed the way her eyes flickered to Dan Heng and Gepard, almost as if she were seeking their reassurance before she spoke.

"I’m glad to see you’re well," she began, her voice calm but measured. "The people of Belobog are eager to welcome you and show their gratitude for your return. We’ve begun preparations for a series of celebrations in your honour, and I wanted to discuss the details with you, to ensure everything meets your approval."

The idea of the entire city celebrating you—parades, feasts, and gatherings in your name—felt surreal. You weren’t sure how to respond, unsure if you could live up to the expectations they had of you.

"I don’t want to disrupt anyone’s life," you said cautiously, trying to find the right words. "It’s all very overwhelming. I’m not used to being treated like this."

Bronya’s expression softened, and she exchanged a glance with Dan Heng and Gepard, who stood behind you like silent sentinels. "Your presence alone is a gift to us," she replied gently. "We don’t see it as a disruption, but rather as an honour. The people are eager to show their gratitude and to celebrate this momentous occasion."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of unease and responsibility settle in your chest. "Alright. I’ll do my best to be what you need me to be."

Bronya smiled a rare and genuine expression that made you feel a little less out of place. "Thank you," she said simply. "We’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to worry."

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of preparations and introductions. Bronya led you through the city, introducing you to key figures and showing you the various places where the celebrations would take place.

Everywhere you went, people bowed deeply, their eyes wide with star-struck in awe. It was both humbling and unnerving, and you found yourself struggling to find the balance between accepting their respect and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Dan Heng and Gepard never left your side, their presence a constant reminder that you weren’t alone in this strange new world. They were vigilant, ensuring that you were comfortable, that no one overwhelmed you, and that you had moments of rest whenever you needed them.

By the time evening fell, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. You had been paraded through the city, introduced to so many people, and shown the elaborate plans for the days and weeks to come.

All of it felt like a dream, and as you finally returned to your room, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on you.

While you lay in bed, twiddling with the fine silk blanket, the other regions were preparing to finally gaze upon their divine creator.

——

In the Xianzhou Luofu, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the news of the Creator’s return spread. Within the grand halls of the Divine Foresight, Fu Xuan stood before the Council of Elders, delivering the monumental announcement that had just arrived from the Trailblazer.

"The Creator has returned," Fu Xuan declared with a calm but resolute voice. "They have descended in Belobog, and it is our duty to honour them with the highest respect and homage."

The Council of Elders, seasoned in both wisdom and combat, exchanged glances of disbelief and awe. The Creator, the one who had shaped their world and guided their destinies, was now walking among them once more. The gravity of this revelation weighed heavily on their minds, knowing that their response to this event would define their legacy.

Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, stood quietly at the back of the chamber, his usual calm demeanour betraying a hint of solemnity. The Creator’s return was a momentous occasion, and Jing Yuan felt the significance of this event.

"We must ensure that our tribute is worthy of their grace," he murmured, his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

Nearby, Loucha listened intently. His thoughts were more introspective, contemplating the deeper implications of the Creator’s return. Loucha, ever the observer, recognized the immense pressure that this event placed upon them all.

But unlike the others, his focus was not on the material offerings but on the spiritual and existential implications of meeting their Creator. He quietly resolved to find a way to honour the Creator not just through gifts but through his actions and service.

A casket would simply not do, although he was sure that you'd grow fond of it.

Hm, what else could he possibly give you...

Blade, as usual, remained silent throughout the meeting with the Stellaron Hunters. His mind, however, was not at ease. Blade’s relationship with the concept of the Creator is complex and filled with conflicting emotions.

Blade knew he had to play his part in honouring the Creator, even if it meant confronting the very things he had spent so long trying to suppress.

Preparations across the Xianzhou Luofu began immediately. Gifts were gathered from the most skilled artisans—finely crafted weapons, ancient scrolls, and traditional garments.

The best chefs prepared exquisite dishes that would showcase the rich culture of the Xianzhou. In every corner of the realm, citizens participated in rituals, prayers, and meditations, focusing their energies on the Creator.

Jing Yuan oversaw the strategic aspects of the journey, ensuring that their voyage to Belobog would be flawless. Loucha offered his medical expertise to make sure that everyone on board the vessels was in perfect health, while Blade had already begun making his way to Belobog along with Firefly and Kafka.

As the time for departure approached, the air was thick with reverence and anticipation. The Xianzhou Luofu were not just travelling to meet their Creator; they were about to present themselves as a testament to the Creator’s guidance.

Their journey to Belobog would be marked by the same dedication and honour that had defined their civilization for centuries.

Far away in Penacony, the city of innovation and creativity, the news of the Creator’s return was met with an explosion of activity. Penacony, renowned for its technological marvels and artistic achievements, reacted to the news with excitement.

Aventurine was among the first to receive the message. As soon as he got the text, he froze, eyes furiously scanning the text over and over again.

Was this real? Has the creator really come back? The one who he worshipped so obsessively?

He immediately rang Jade, his voice frantic as he spoke to her over the phone. "We cannot afford to delay," Aventurine stated.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and we must honour the Creator with everything Penacony has to offer."

Sunday, the head of the family, took charge of organizing the preparations. He ordered all renowned artists, engineers, and musicians all come together to create a tribute that would embody the spirit of their city.

Everything had to be perfect.

Sunday was enthusiastic for the Creator's return, it was not just a reflection of his usual cheerfulness—it was something far deeper, almost lovesick.

The moment he received word that the Creator had returned to their world, something in him ignited. It was as if all his life had been leading up to this moment, and now, he could finally fulfil his purpose.

“The Creator has returned,” he whispered to himself after first hearing the news, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and anticipation. His eyes, usually bright with optimism, now gleamed with a fervour that bordered on the intense.

To Sunday, this wasn’t just an event to celebrate—it was a divine calling, a chance to prove his unwavering devotion.

From that moment on, Sunday threw himself into the preparations with a single-mindedness that was almost unsettling. He didn’t just organize the celebrations—he orchestrated them with an obsession that left little room for error.

Every detail had to be perfect, and every gesture had to reflect the utmost reverence for the Creator. He wasn’t just leading the preparations; he was living them, breathing them, as though his very existence depended on it.

When rallying the artists and performers, Sunday’s usual encouragement took on a more insistent edge. “This isn’t just for any celebration,” he’d remind them, his eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s for the Creator. We must give them everything—our best and beyond.”

He’d hover over rehearsals, his smile still present but his tone sharper, more demanding. Mistakes weren’t just errors; they were almost blasphemous in his eyes.

In the kitchens, his involvement was even more intense. He tasted every dish, scrutinizing each one with a level of scrutiny that made even the most seasoned chefs nervous. “This dish needs something... more,” he’d say, his brows furrowing in concentration.

“It needs to be worthy of the Creator. Start again.” And they would, because Sunday’s passion was as contagious as it was overwhelming. Many chefs and assistants often gossiped with one another about Sunday's behaviour, he was far too obsessed.

They, of course, understood the importance of perfecting everything as well, it would be served under the gaze of their Almighty Creator, but Sunday was too overbearing, pushy and stubborn.

Everything has to be perfect.

His interactions with the other citizens of Penacony took on a different tone as well. While still encouraging, there was an underlying pressure in his words. “The Creator deserves only the best from us. Do you understand? This is our moment to show our love, and our loyalty. We can’t afford to disappoint them.”

As the days passed, Sunday’s obsession grew. He spent nights alone, surrounded by plans and lists, going over every detail until his eyes were red and his hands shook from exhaustion.

But he didn’t care. Sleep was secondary; his devotion to the Creator was all that mattered.

Boothill, unlike the others found himself in an unfamiliar situation. Normally at ease with a revolver in hand, Boothill was now tasked with selecting gifts that would impress the Creator.

He knew the importance of your arrival, but there was something that lingered at the back of his head. The memories would override his brain, successfully clouding his thoughts, all he could think about was revenge.

His home.

His daughter.

His family.

His beloved memories.

Gone. They were all gone, all because of one man: Oswaldo Schneider.

Perhaps... If he impressed you with his devotion and adoration, would you help get revenge for him? As the Creator, wouldn't you be so kind as to lend your devoted worshipper some help?

(He decided to contribute something personal—a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and crafted with precision.)

Once the word spread to Gallagher that you were finally home, Gallagher’s response was deeply rooted in a sense of duty and respect.

Like Sunday, he wanted everything to be perfect, not because of an obsessive need to impress, but because he believed it was the right thing to do.

In meetings, Gallagher was a voice of calm amidst the excitement, offering practical solutions to any challenges that arose. “Let’s focus on what’s important,” he would say, steering conversations away from extravagance and towards meaningful gestures.

He believed that the Creator would value sincerity and thoughtfulness over grand displays, and he ensured that Penacony’s contributions reflected that belief.

In his heart, Gallagher held a deep respect for you. His admiration was sincere, but it wasn’t showy. He didn’t need to prove his devotion through grand gestures or dramatic displays; his actions spoke for themselves.

He believed that true reverence was shown through quiet, consistent effort—through doing what was right, even when no one was watching.

He could just taste your happiness at the tip of his tongue, it was delicious. He began to think about your responses, what would you say? Would you accept his gift happily? Toss it away in digust?

“We’ve prepared these offerings with great care and respect, Your Grace. We hope they meet your expectations.” He would say.

"Oh, Gallagher! You shouldn't have!" You would reply.

Or...

"How bold of you to assume that I would accept such a gift from a low-life dog like you!"

Even a small smile would do.

No matter your response, he would still devote his entire being to you.

He had always been confident in his abilities, but now, faced with the Creator themselves, he wondered if his efforts would be enough. It wasn’t a question of worthiness, but of connection—he wanted the Creator to understand that Penacony’s gifts came from a place of genuine respect and loyalty.

Yet, even in this moment of uncertainty, Gallagher remained composed. He knew that whatever the Creator’s response, he had done his best.

And that, for Gallagher, was what truly mattered. He would continue to serve and protect, quietly dedicated to the Creator’s well-being, just as he had always done.

——

As the day of departure approached, Penacony and the Xianzhou Luofu were abuzz with activity. Airships were loaded with gifts, including traditional dishes, intricately designed artifacts, and artistic performances that would honour the Creator.

The entire city was involved in the preparations, each citizen contributing in their own way.

When the airships finally took flight, they carried not just the hopes of Penacony but also the dreams and creativity of its people.

This journey was more than just a trip; it was a pilgrimage to honour the Creator who had shaped their being.

note: so many wips..

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqqo @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassupp @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seedy

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

for those i’ve taged: if you do not want to tagged for hsr drop a comment or message me.

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

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snail-day · 1 month ago

Text

Suguru's Sweet Girl

Tw: Breeding/creampie, Overstimulation, Squirting, Mating press, Mentions of edging, Smut, fingering/oral, Suguru is a little bit possessive, MDNI WC: 1.2k

Geto Suguru used to pride himself on lasting long. That is, until he met you.

His pretty little wife, the one he now has to edge just to keep himself from cumming too soon. His sweet girl, who he loves licking between your slickened folds, probing your cute little cunny with the tip of his tongue before pulsing the muscle deeper inside, until the most lewd, sticky squelches echo through the room.

Poor Suguru, who has to use one hand to hold yours down - fingers laced tight - because if you so much as tug his hair, he’s going to bust all over the sheets. Again.

Poor Suguru, who groans when you arch your hips so prettily for him, moaning when you whine that he’s being so mean to you. Only for him to chuckle low against your dewy skin, the other hand curling two thick digits deep inside your fluttering walls, making you gasp and jolt.

"You like me mean, baby," he hums, dark violet eyes glittering as he pumps his fingers in even deeper. "Otherwise, you wouldn’t have married me, hmm? Now be good, keep holding my hand."

Once you do, once your nails are biting into his thick wrist, once you’re creaming so sweetly around his fingers, he finally gives you a break. Pressing soft, adoring kisses to your swollen bundle of nerves, licking up every drop of the mess you made for him.

But he doesn’t let you recover. Has never been the type to wait. No, Suguru’s already pressing you down, folding you into a mean little mating press despite your breathless pleas that you’re too sensitive. "Shhh, baby," he croons sweetly, lining himself up with your drooling cunt, "won’t even last long."

You barely have time to cry out before his dark, velvety, thick tip pushes inside, a low, broken moan punching from his chest as your tight little hole clamps down on him. He’s not going to last long, he knows it the second you start squirming, the second you start babbling nonsense, sweet gushy walls fluttering around him as he buries himself to the hilt.

"So soon, baby?" Suguru teases with a slow, cruel roll of his hips, each grind dragging the veins of his cock over your sweetest, deepest spot, making you sob and claw helplessly at his wrists. "Want me to cum so bad, huh?"

Your pretty cunt milks him shamelessly, clenching and spasming around his thick cock, desperate for it. And Suguru, god, Suguru just smiles, tilting his head sweetly, dark hair spilling over his shoulders as he sinks in even deeper, brushing your cervix and stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Love you," you whimper through trembling lips.

"Oh, I love you too, pretty girl," Suguru purrs, sing-song soft and syrupy sweet, "gonna fill you up with all my babies."

He removes one hand from the back of your thigh, pressing it firmly to the soft curve of your lower belly, right where he’s filling you so deep. Right where you can feel every thick, sinful inch of him.

It doesn’t take long after that.

You squirt first, gushing around him with a broken little wail, soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you. And Suguru follows almost instantly, hips stuttering, cock twitching as he fills you up with his thick, heavy seed - so much that he has to keep himself buried deep, plugging it all inside your overstimulated cunt.

Still panting, still trembling, Suguru leans down and presses the sweetest, slowest kiss to your lips, tongue lazily swiping at your swollen bottom one.

"My sweet girl," he whispers, voice thick with love, before pulling you into his chest.

Suguru holds you for a long moment, heart pounding against yours, his cock still buried deep inside your fluttering pussy, not willing to pull away just yet. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing you in, soaking in your body's heat, trembling so sweetly against him.

"That's it, sweet girl," he croons against your skin, voice warm and wrecked and worshipful. "Took me so good... gonna keep it all inside, yeah?"

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the damp hollow of your throat. Still, he doesn't move to pull out. Doesn’t even think about it. No, his big palms are gliding over your thighs, your hips, your soft tummy, feeling where he’s buried so deep, where his cum is sitting heavy and hot inside you.

"God, you’re gonna look so pretty all full of me," he murmurs, a little dazed, almost to himself. "You’ll be even softer...rounder…" he drags the words out with a dreamy sort of wonder, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over your belly. "My pretty wife, carrying my babies..."

It’s filthy. It's a bit obsessive. And it's kind of a turn on, making you clench around him all over again, whimpering needlessly.

Suguru groans low in his throat at the feeling, his hips giving a helpless little rut against you, still a bit needy and desperate even though he already came.

"Shhh, it's okay," he soothes you instantly, kissing your forehead. "You did so good, baby. Gonna take care of you now."

Finally, he pulls out, his cock slipping free with a wet, messy squelch that has both of you gasping. He watches, almost entranced, as his cum drools out of your puffy, overstimulated hole. Leaving a small thick pool of his creamy white cum.

A smug little smirk tugs at his mouth. But there’s so much love in his eyes as he grabs the towel he kept ready nearby and gently starts cleaning you up.

"You’re dripping, baby," he croons, voice low and affectionate. "Can’t waste it, yeah?" He’s slow about it lingering between your thighs with every swipe, kissing your knees, murmuring how beautiful you are, how proud he is, how good you did for him. You slump against him, boneless and warm, and he just holds you. One hand rubbing circles into your back, the other splayed wide over your lower belly, a little possessive thought raids his mind.

"Mine," he breathes against your hair as you start to doze off. "All mine. Gonna keep you knocked up, baby. Gonna keep you full for me forever."

You let out a sleepy, blissed-out noise in response, and Suguru just chuckles, cradling you tighter, kissing your forehead again and again like he can’t stop.

"My sweet girl," he whispers one last time, rocking you gently in his arms.

Another few kisses follow, a soft trail across your forehead, your temple, the tip of your nose, just to hear you whine and complain in that sweet, sleepy voice he adores. Another tiny squirm, a grumpy little huff against his chest. Suguru only chuckles softly, holding you tighter, the sound low and full of unbearable fondness.

"Just one more," he murmurs with a grin, nuzzling into your hair as he presses another kiss to your crown. "One more," he promises, already breaking it as he lays another one against your cheek.

He's not sure he can stop when it comes to you. Not when he plans to have you with him forever. In this universe or the next.

#Baby fever is back #or maybe im just ovulating #womp womp #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto smut #jjk geto #getou suguru #getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #Literally have been thinking about this for days #just him and his hand holding tendencies #loves to hold your hand #can't tell me that man isn't clingy

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okkotsuus · 2 months ago

Text

"MEAN MAN" ー michael kaiser 🪽

features: michael kaiser

contents: afab!reader. filthy smut. toxic dynamics (it's kaiser). p in v. no plot, just smut. no condom. dacryphilia. mating press. dom/sub dynamics. degradation/dirty talk. dumbification. overstimulation. edging. hair pulling. marking. 1k.

notes: alice i love you thank you for showing me that kaiser art. first nsfw post on this acc, make sure to block my nsfw tag, #𓆩♡𓆪 fallen ! , if you don't want to see that!

michael has always been a mean man, ever since the day he was born: the first thing he did was bite his mother's breast. the world had done nothing but hurt him all his life. so, naturally, he instinctively hurt it back just a little.

maybe that's why he had you here in the meanest mating press, knees locked against your shoulders as he bullies all eight inches of him into your cunt.

"greedy fuckin' thing, practically sucking me in, yeah?" kaiser grunts, wicked smirk splitting his kiss-bruised lips as blue eyes drag hungrily down your form. his blunt nails dig into the sides of your thighs from where his hands find purchase in hooking under your knees, all to fold you in half beneath him.

your head feels like mush, spinning like a top as you feel fat tears glide down your cheeks. the feel of his cock dragging against your fluttering walls, the little pressures from every single vein that runs along his shaft was beginning to drive you insane.

mindless babbles slip past your lips, too far gone to even think: "please, mihya, need more. please, please...-!!" michael cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that you feel punching against your cervix almost painfully.

but the lines between pain and pleasure have become so blurred from all the raised skin his biting has left along your form and you just keen in response, back arching impossibly further off the sheets.

the man just chuckles, almost darkly, grabbing at your hands to have them take the place of his in holding your legs up. one hand finds itself squeezing onto your tit, watching the fat try to escape through the gaps between his fingers.

his other hand, however, finds your neglected, swollen clit and rubs achingly slow circles. not enough to bring you over the edge; but just enough to keep you teetering there. for however long he wishes.

michael's hips snap against yours, his head falling back with a throaty groan at the feeling of your gummy cunt clenching like a vice around him. "my pussy's fuckin' soaked, stupid girl likes it when i'm mean?" he questions, voice rasping as it bounces a rumble deep in his chest.

you take just a second too long to answer and his hand slaps against your bundle of nerves, forcing a jolted cry to slip past your swollen lips. he doesn't miss the way you tighten around him, nor the way he throbs when he sees those shiny tears rolling down your cheeks.

kaiser is a mean man; but he's mean to everyone, including himself.

so, he drags out of you, leaving you completely empty to watch your cunt spasm around nothing: almost fascinated. his dick throbs painfully, and you whine and squirm under him, but his eyes remain locked on your fluttering hole like it was the most beautiful art in the world.

"pretty thing, how can i be so mean?" he mumbles, bending to press a chaste kiss against your lips as he realigns himself to your entrance. "let mihya make it better, yeah?"

and with that he slams balls-deep into you with no warning. there's no friction, not with how absolutely soaked you are, but it sure as hell knocks the air from your lungs as a strangled moan is forced from deep in your chest.

ever the mean man, michael gives you no time to recover as his hips piston out of you with a reckless abandon; thumb grinding hard against your clit in a way that has your seeing stars against the back of your eyelids. all his weight forces down against you to leave you utterly helpless as his free hand grabs at the hair near the base of your skull and pulls your head back to bite and suck along the column of your throat.

a pitchy whine leave you like stealing the breath from your lungs as you feel your entire body tense up with the threat of your impending orgasm. hell, with how good kaiser is fucking you into the mattress: it might be rigor mortis setting in. this would be a good way to die.

he knows you're close, so is he, so his hand leaves your hair to find purchase in the dip of your waist and pulls you into him with every thrust of his hips: fucking you back on his cock and letting him find that perfect spongy spot that you know only he can hit.

if it were up to michael, you'd never fuck another man: simply because none will ever make you feel as good as him.

your climax comes like a dam bursting, pussy constricting around kaiser as you damn near sob: hot tears falling over your bottom lashes as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

it's your expression that gets him, though, balls tightening as he grunts back a moan and nearly falls against you, hand catching himself on the pillow under your head. he twitches as he cums, warmth flooding deep into your body as kaiser weakly pumps his hips into you to hear you whine.

yeah, michael is a mean, mean man. but he fucks you so good that you think you can forgive him, just this once...

hell, let's not kid anyone, this will never be a one-time thing.

⚜️ ㅤ okkotsuus ㅤ 25

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caffeinewitchcraft · 5 months ago

Text

A Secret from the Bly

The canopy sailed over the horizon line.

The mother looked out the window, snapping the sheets as she folded them. Her clear gray eyes were the same color as the morning sky and just as gloomy.

“Closer,” she muttered. She seemed surprised she had spoken, and her hands slowed, fingers lingering on the fraying edge of her own bed sheet. She wet her lips. Said again, “Closer.”

“What’s closer?” the daughter asked.

The mother didn’t jump, but the air changed as if she did. Her shoulders stiffened. Her hands went back to work. “Nothing,” she said. Then, not being able to help herself, “The forest is growing quickly.”

“Teacher says that trees don’t grow fast. Only an inch or two a year.”

“You couldn’t see the Bly when you were a baby,” the mother said. Her heart stung. She knew her daughter wasn’t calling her foolish. Lately, when the little girl spoke of her teacher, something she never had, it makes something sour in her want to lash out. “Now look how tall it stands!”

The daughter came to the window. Her clothes were ill-fitting. She looked as if she tumbled in and then out of fresh laundry only to come up wearing a whole bedspread. The dress she wore used to be the mother’s from when she was young. Her eyes traced the horizon. “That’s faster than teacher said.”

“Not even a teacher knows everything,” the mother said. Her own mother’s voice rang through hers. That made her jump. She thrust the laundry away from her and finally looked at her daughter. “Some truths are only learned while living—”

The daughter stared at her bare feet. Shoulders rounded. Lip jutting out so far the mother could see it through her hanging, flaxen hair. The mother’s heart stung different.

“The Bly is…different,” the mother said. It’s her own voice this time. Softer and more yielding. She kneeled so that the daughter could see her right away when she chose to look up. “It’s a secret I’d like you to keep.”

The daughter’s eyes darted up, meeting the mother’s. Her lip contracted a centimeter. “A secret?”

“Just between us two,” the mother agreed. Was the little girl old enough? She would give anything to bring her daughter’s chin up again. “Your teacher is right that trees grow slow. The Bly is different here. Only here.”

“Only here?”

“On our land. You see, the Bly is home to another kind of creature. Like us, but not. They are mischievous and kind and cruel. More importantly, they’re magic.”

“Fairies,” the daughter said confidently.

“The Good Folk,” the mother said in her own mother’s voice. Then to soften it, “And that’s not the secret.”

The daughter reached out to put her hands on her mother’s shoulders. She jumped in excitement, using her mother to steady herself. “Tell me! Please, tell me.”

The mother smiled and placed her hands over her daughters. She tilted her head forward and was rewarded when her daughter stopped leaping about and pressed her own forehead against hers. She whispered, “The secret is that once, a long time ago, I stole something from them. That’s why the forest grows so quickly over the horizon. They’re looking for what I took.”

“What?!” The daughter was amazed. “You said never to steal.”

“I did. I needed it very badly, mustn’t I have?”

“Yes,” the daughter said. Her quick mind tumbled through her mother’s confession. “So you’ve been in the Bly? What was it like? Teacher says there are wolves in there. What did you steal?”

For a moment, the mother was not there. She raced through dense old growth with her feet cut to ribbons and her skirts sticking wetly to her legs. Her breath came in cold clouds in front of her and she ran through them just as quickly as they formed. She could use only one hand to shield her face from vines and branches. Her other arm was curled around the bundle in her arms.

“One day,” the mother said. She stood but wrapped her hands around her daughter’s so that she knew it was only a necessary retreat and not a complete one. “One day, when you’re older, I’ll tell you all the stories I have.”

The girl’s lower lip was out again. “How old?”

“When the Bly hits the edge of our land,” the mother said. She held out her pinky. “Promise.”

The girl was suspicious. “It grows fast?”

The mother’s heart stung differently again. “Very fast.”

“Deal!”

---

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#my writing #long post #the fae

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vibelladonna · 6 months ago

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❛ 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 𝓍 𝑔𝓃!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: After a rainy rescue mission gone wrong (or right, depending on how you look at it), you and Crowe end up back at your cozy apartment—with a tiny, soaked kitten now claiming your couch. As the night settles in, horror movies roll, stolen glances linger, and the warmth between you two starts feeling a little too familiar.

Will Crowe finally drop his walls and let you in...

...or is he just gonna keep pretending there’s nothing there?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's (@fantasia-kitt) intentions.

Spoilers From Day 1 and Day 2--(More like Inspo lines)

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: jericho x afab! reader, friends to lovers?? Gender Neutral! Reader, Cuddling, Pillow talk, Fluff, then Smut, Making out, Heavy Touching, Neck kisses, dry-humping, moaning, praise (receiving and giving), Some hair pulling, and oral sex (giving).

The rain fell in relentless sheets, hammering against the pavement and turning the city into a glittering mosaic of slick streets and refracted light.

You and Crowe barely made it back to your apartment, soaked to the bone, arms laden with grocery bags. Crowe cradled something against his chest—a tiny, drenched kitten trembling within the warmth of his vest.

“Here,” he said, his deep voice resonating with a softness that caught you off guard. There was a tender urgency in his tone as he carefully shifted the kitten into your hands. “This little one needs warmth.”

You nodded without hesitation, setting the groceries down with a thud and immediately rifling through your closet. Old t-shirts, a scarf you hadn’t worn in years—it all piled into a makeshift nest inside an empty shoebox.

As you worked, Crowe watched in quiet approval, his tall frame silhouetted in the warm light of your apartment.

The kitten let out a faint meow, curling into the soft fabric as though it had found sanctuary. Crowe crouched beside the box, his dark brown hair still damp and half-undone from the rain. Strands clung stubbornly to his sharp jawline, which he brushed aside with a graceful flick of his fingers.

“You’re soaked,” you said, gesturing toward his clinging black button-up, which outlined his broad shoulders and hinted at the strong, lean frame beneath.

“Go shower before you catch a cold.” He hesitated, his deep blue eyes flicking to yours, searching for something unspoken. Then, with a small nod, he rose and disappeared toward the bathroom.

When it was finally your turn, the hot water felt like heaven on your chilled skin. Steam wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to chase away the vivid image of Crowe—his quiet care for the kitten, the rain tracing the contours of his face, the almost regal grace in his movements. He was magnetic, the kind of person you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried.

When you emerged, bundled in an oversized hoodie and fleece shorts, Crowe was already seated on your couch. He’d traded his drenched clothes for a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants you’d lent him.

The casual attire softened his presence in a way that caught you off guard. His long hair, now untied and damp, framed his face with unintentional elegance, every strand catching the glow of the lamp behind him.

The plan was to watch a movie—something simple, a classic slasher with predictable jump scares. But your attention refused to cooperate. As the ominous soundtrack droned on, your eyes kept drifting to him.

His profile was serene, his gaze distant yet intensely thoughtful. He shifted slightly, and you became acutely aware of the small space between you.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was low, and intimate, as if the question wasn’t meant to be shared with the world. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

You blinked, startled by the question and the way his attention focused solely on you. “Another one of your trivia questions, Crowe?” you teased, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. Stretching your arms casually, you laughed lightly, but he didn’t respond in kind.

Instead, he leaned closer, the air between you charged with something unspoken. His breath brushed your cheek, sending an involuntary shiver through you.

“Wh-why don’t you answer first?” you stammered, the words barely audible.

He chuckled a low, warm sound that made your skin prickle. Then, to your surprise, he rested his head on your shoulder, the weight of him both grounding and electrifying. Before you could muster a response, he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched, and you prayed he couldn’t hear the erratic drumming of your heart.

“Dodging the question, huh?” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement but carrying an undercurrent of something more profound.

“Well…” He paused as if searching for the right words.

“If I could have anything in this world… I’d want more time. More time to be with you. More time to spend like this.” His voice softened, tinged with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“Kind of selfish, huh?” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and your chest tightened at the sight. His gaze was downcast, his usual confidence replaced by something raw and unguarded. Though he smiled faintly, it didn’t reach his eyes.

At that moment, you didn’t know whether he was speaking to you or himself, but the desperation in his expression was unmistakable. And it left you breathless.

“You’re staring,” Crowe murmured, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smirk. Your cheeks burned, the heat spreading up your neck as you realized how obvious you’d been. “Your hair’s long,” You blurted out, instantly regretting the flat, unpolished observation. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, betraying the nervousness.

Crowe raised a brow, his fingers lazily trailing up to brush through the loose strands grazing his collarbone. The motion was unhurried, almost calculated. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity but mostly playful provocation.

“No! No, it’s…” You stumbled over your words, your voice dropping to a softer register as your gaze lingered on his hair, the rich brown strands catching the light. “It’s nice,” They finally said, the admission almost shy.

Crowe chuckled, a low, velvety sound that sent a flutter through your chest. “Just nice, huh?” he said, his amusement laced with challenge. His gaze swept over your face, reading your every reaction as if it were a game he’d already mastered. “Not beautiful? Stunning? Majestic like a warrior’s mane after a victorious battle?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play off the embarrassment. “I wouldn’t go that far…” You mumbled, your voice barely audible as they looked away.

He laughed again, the sound brighter this time, the sight of his smile drawing your attention back to him. You were captivated, the world narrowing to just Crowe at that moment. His movements were subtle but deliberate as he leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking.

His voice dipped to a low murmur that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “But what if I said I want you to go that far?”

As he spoke, his hand moved, fingers brushing just barely against the edge of yours where they rested in your lap. The contact was featherlight, yet it sparked like static electricity, sending a straight jolt. You froze, your breath hitching, the heat in your cheeks now rivaling the pounding in your chest. Crowe’s eyes, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, locked onto yours.

“Can I…?” Your voice wavered, your hand hovering uncertainly in the air between them.

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his intrigue evident in the slow curl of his lips. “What is it you want to do, hm?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His steady gaze never left yours, his stillness almost daring you to close the distance.

You hesitated, your hand trembling as it lingered in the space between them. Your heart raced, your breathing shallow as they searched his face for any sign of hesitation. Instead, his expression softened, and with a slow, almost imperceptible nod, he gave his silent permission.

Your fingertips brushed against his hair, hesitant at first. The strands were softer than they’d imagined, slipping between your fingers like silk. You exhaled a shaky breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. “I just… wanted to feel it,” they murmured, your voice a quiet admission.

Crowe’s eyes closed briefly as if savoring the light touch. A subtle shiver ran through him, but the smile tugging at his lips was unmistakable. When he opened his eyes again, they were locked onto yours, their intensity making your pulse quicken. "Satisfied?" he asked softly, though the teasing glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.

"Is it as majestic as I described it?" Crowe’s voice carried a blend of playful mischief and genuine curiosity, his dark eyes twinkling as he watched you.

Your hand continued its gentle motion, fingers gliding through the soft strands of his hair, your touch almost reverent.

The faint blush creeping across your cheeks betrayed you otherwise calm demeanor. You tried to focus on the rhythmic motion of your hand, but the sensation—his hair softer than you’d expected—was strangely grounding and intoxicating all at once.

Your breath hitched as you felt the weight of his gaze on you, an intensity that seemed to see more than you were ready to reveal. Still, his playful tone softened the tension, coaxing you to respond. "It’s... softer than I expected," You admitted, your voice barely louder than the whisper of the rain against the windows.

Crowe’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Smoother, you say?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, ever so slightly, his breath ghosting across your cheek.

"Just how soft did you expect it to be, hm?" Your heart stuttered; senses heightened, catching the faintest details—the warmth radiating from him, the subtle scent of his cologne—close to blueberries mixed with something uniquely Crowe.

Your fingers trembled as they brushed the strands of his hair framing his face, the silky texture tantalizing against your skin. Crowe’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring your touch. "Does it bother you to keep it this long?" You ventured, voice tentative, almost fragile in the intimacy of the moment.

He opened his eyes, meeting yours with a softness "No," he murmured. "But sometimes... it gets in the way while I’m running errands around the building.”

You felt the corners of your lips curve slightly, a tiny, conspiratorial smile. "You always be working and take care of everyone else… even me.” You mentioned, your voice quiet yet firm. "Let someone take care of you for once."

Your words seemed to catch him off guard. His gaze darkened—not with anger but with a vulnerability so raw it made his breath hitch. Slowly, his hand reached up, fingers roughened by life’s demands, brushing against your cheek with a tenderness they hadn’t expected.

"I’m not used to that," he admitted, the words heavy with unspoken meaning. His eyes searched yours, as though seeking assurance. "I don’t... usually let myself be taken care of."

The weight of his confession settled between them. You found yourself unable to look away. Your free hand came to rest on his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath your fingers. You traced idle patterns there, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath the surface, grounding yourself in his presence.

"Why not?" You asked softly, your voice like a gentle breeze coaxing the truth from him.

Crowe’s gaze flickered down, watching the slow, deliberate movements of your fingers as though they held answers he didn’t yet have. He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly in thought. "I’m... not sure," he confessed, his tone contemplative. "I guess I’ve always been the one to look after others. It’s just what I know."

His honesty hung between them like an unspoken promise, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. You let the silence stretch, your hand still tracing circles on his shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned in just enough for your forehead to graze his, your voice a whisper that barely bridged the gap.

"Then maybe it’s time you let someone teach you."

Crowe’s eyes flicked back to yours, locking onto your gaze. There was a flicker of surprise and uncertainty in his expression as if the very idea of someone wanting to take care of him, let alone you, was an entirely foreign concept. And yet, it carried a strange allure, something that stirred deep within him. He didn’t speak at first, his silence hanging between them like an unspoken question.

Finally, he gave a small, tentative nod.

“You… want to?” he asked, his voice tinged with both wonder and disbelief. His brow furrowed, his cheeks warming with an unmistakable blush. “You’d want to… take care of me?” His voice softened further, almost shy. “Like how? What… what are you gonna do?”

You tilted your head, lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. His earnestness, the vulnerability in his question, made your heartache most sweetly. You let the moment linger, the air thick with unspoken emotions, as if to let him absorb the gravity of his trust in you.

Your hand, which had been resting lightly on his shoulder, began to move in slow, deliberate strokes. Your fingertips brushed across the fabric of his shirt before traveling to the base of his neck, where they lingered, tracing slow, deliberate circles against his skin. The heat of your touch sent a shiver down his spine, his breath catching in his throat as his body instinctively leaned into the sensation.

“How about…” You murmured, your voice was soft and soothing, almost like a lullaby. “…you let me decide that?”

Crowe swallowed hard, his mind racing with a mixture of apprehension and intrigue. The thought of relinquishing control was daunting, almost terrifying. And yet, the softness in your voice, the gentleness of your touch, coaxed something in him to let go. He hesitated only for a moment before nodding again, this time with a hint of more certainty.

“All right,” he said quietly, his voice laced with surrender. “I… I’ll let you decide.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, at the quiet admission that he was willing to trust you in a way that seemed so out of character for him. Crowe, the ever-composed, always-in-control student council leader, allowing himself to be cared for—it was a rare, precious moment.

You adjusted your position slightly, your movements are fluid and intentional. Your hand on his neck urged him to lean back against the couch as you shifted closer. “Relax,” You whispered, encouraging yet firm. Your other hand came up to gently push him back, just enough for him to rest more comfortably.

His eyes darted to yours, seeking reassurance, before he finally allowed himself to recline. His shoulders sagged slightly as the tension began to flow away. You shifted beside him, your thigh brushing against his as they leaned in closer, your presence grounding him.

“Close your eyes,” You instructed.

He obeyed, his lashes fluttering shut. The world around him faded into darkness, leaving only the sensation of your touch and the faint rustle of fabric as you adjusted yourself once more. Your fingers continued their soothing motion at the nape of his neck, and he felt your legs shift as you moved deliberately.

Before he could fully register the change, your thigh slid over his lap, your weight settling as you straddled him. The closeness, the intimacy of your position, sent a rush of warmth flooding through him. He inhaled sharply, his hands instinctively moving to rest at your sides, though his touch remained hesitant, unsure.

You leaned in, breath warm against his cheek, lips hovering just near his ear. “Just let me take care of you,” You murmured, your voice low and soft, a seductive blend of promise and reassurance.

Crowe exhaled shakily, his body betraying his need to resist, yet failing. He could feel himself yielding, the last threads of hesitation unraveling in your presence.

Your lips brushed against his ear, a fleeting caress that sent shivers cascading down his spine. You shifted, pressing your body closer as you straddled him fully, their closeness intoxicating. He could feel your heat, your heartbeat steady against his, as you moved with deliberate intention. Your fingers trailed gently along his jawline, your touch light as air but carrying an electrifying weight.

"Let go," You whispered again.

Crowe’s hands, which had been gripping your sides in an instinctive bid for control, faltered. They trembled slightly before slipping away entirely, falling to rest in his lap as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations they was awakening. “I…” he began, his voice thick and strained, but the words caught in his throat.

“Please?” You asked, tilting your head as your lips found the curve of his neck. You pressed the faintest kiss there, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Slowly, deliberately, you began your descent, lips tracing the line of his neck with tender persistence. You paused just long enough to let him feel every lingering kiss, every fleeting brush of your mouth, before moving lower.

The tension in his body craved and flowed with every touch. He tensed as your lips found the hollow at the base of his neck, then relaxed again as they pressed a kiss just above his collarbone. You smiled against his skin, sensing the shiver that coursed through him.

Your hands moved in tandem with your lips, sliding from his jaw to the nape of his neck, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “Just feel,” They murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as they continued your path, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses along his chest.

Crowe’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your movements. Every kiss, every touch, seemed to peel away another layer of his guarded composure, leaving him bare and vulnerable before you. He closed his eyes tightly, surrendering completely to the unfamiliar yet exhilarating flood of sensations.

You paused for a moment, lips hovering just over his sternum. You looked up at him, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping as you took in his expression—the furrow of his brows, the slight parting of his lips, the way his head tilted back just slightly. He was yours at this moment, completely and utterly.

"You’re doing so well," You whispered against his skin, pressing another kiss to his chest. "Just keep letting go."

His fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatpants, knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. It was the only anchor he could find as he surrendered to the sensations flooding him, a steady burn that spread through his chest and pooled in his lower stomach. His breaths came in shallow bursts, and his body quaked under the unfamiliar weight of letting go, of yielding control.

Every nerve was alive, hyper-attuned to your touch, and the soothing cadence of your voice was like a salve for the storm within him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself. When your lips brushed the hollow of his throat, a tremor passed through him, sharp and undeniable. His hand twitched, releasing its grip on his sweatpants, fingers ghosting over the edge of your shoulder as if seeking permission to hold onto yours instead. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and finally managed to whisper your name.

“Please…” His voice cracked, barely audible, but the sound carried a rawness that struck you. “…Wait a sec.” You paused, lips hovering just above his skin, breath warm against his neck.

A flicker of something gentle crossed your expression as you sensed the vulnerability emanating from him—the way his chest heaved, the fine tremor in his frame, and the palpable tension that coiled beneath your touch.

"Yes...?" You murmured, tilting your head slightly to catch his gaze. Your eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and playfulness. He inhaled shakily, trying to form the words. His heart pounded against his ribs as though it sought an escape. "I can't…" he started, his voice rough, words tumbling out before he could stop them. "We can't… everything feels… intense."

Your lips curved into a soft smile, a hand coming to rest over his chest, where his heartbeat thundered against your palm. "I know," They said, your voice like a quiet melody. Your lips brushed the pulse point in his neck, featherlight and deliberate. "It's a lot, isn't it? But you’re doing so well."

He stiffened beneath you, his hands finally rising to hold your arms, steadying you but also grounding himself. "That’s not my point," he rasped, voice breaking slightly. He pulled back just enough to see your face. "I have loved you since the day I met you. I need to know how you feel—before we…" His breath caught, his gaze searching yours. "Before we go any further. I don’t want this to be… casual."

The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken emotions. You froze, his confession ringing in your ears. For a heartbeat, you didn’t move, your thoughts whirling. But then, warmth spread through your chest, melting the tension that had momentarily gripped you. Slowly, your hands rose to cradle his face, thumbs brushing gently against his cheekbones.

"I…" You began, voice soft but trembling. "I feel the same. I have for so long, but I was scared. Scared to lose you, scared to ruin this… us."

Relief washed over him, his hands falling to your waist as he let your words settle. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. "I never wanted to risk us either," he admitted. "But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending."

Your lips parted, a shaky laugh escaping as you leaned your forehead against his. "No wonder you kept finding excuses to spend more time with me," You teased, your voice low, tinged with affection. Your fingers trailed down to rest on his chest, "You can be selfish with me, Crowe. I’m yours, you know that. I’ve always been yours."

His lips curled into a tender smile, the vulnerability in your voice and the weight of your words filling him with a kind of courage he hadn’t known he possessed. He tightened his hold on you slightly as if afraid you might vanish if he didn’t. "I’m yours too," he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. "And I don’t just want time with you. I want everything. All of you."

Your breath hitched as his thumb traced along your jawline, his touch delicate yet firm, leaving trails of warmth. His other hand slid from your waist to your back, holding you securely. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto yours.

"May I?" he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

You felt the question in your core, chest tightening and loosening all at once. Your body leaned into him instinctively, every fiber of you being answering before your voice could. When you finally spoke, words were a whisper against his lips. "Yes. Please."

Crowe moved slowly, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that belied the intensity coursing through him. The kiss deepened naturally, a shared hunger and longing driving them closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, your body pressing against his.

Crowe’s lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a purpose that left no room for doubt. His hand on your waist tightened, drawing you closer until the inner part of your thighs brushed against his lower abdomen. The heat of his body was a sharp contrast to the cool dampness still clinging to the air.

Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, instinctively tugged, earning a low, almost inaudible groan from him. The sound sent a shiver through you, making your heart race even faster. Encouraged, you deepened the kiss, your lips parting slightly to invite him in. His response was immediate, a soft flick of his tongue against yours that left you dizzy.

Crowe pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his own. His breaths are heavy, matching yours, and you beheld his red face and hair messier than before. His eyes, those piercing deep blue eyes, searched yours for any hesitation.

“Am I going too fast?” he asked, his voice husky and lower than usual.

You shook your head, barely able to form words. “No… it’s perfect.”

At that, his lips quirked into a small smile—rare and heart-stopping. “Is this a dream? I hope not. If I’m in a dream, please tell the sleeping me to never wake up. I want to live in this dream forever.” His free hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly deeper into his lap. The movement was fluid like he’d imagined this a hundred times before.

“Will this convince you it’s not a dream?” You lean closer to his face and place a peck on his cheek. “Mmm.. maybe. But I think this would convince me.” He captures your lips swiftly. He pries your mouth open by pushing in his tongue, exploring you further, and muffing your moans with his intense kiss.

You gasp, now feeling one hand slip beneath your hoodie, splaying across the bare skin of your lower back. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. His lips left yours briefly, trailing along your jaw and down the column of your neck to nibble at the soft flesh.

“Now people will… know you’re mine.” You gasped when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot, and he chuckled softly against your skin. “You sound so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. The rhythm of his heart beneath your palm was as erratic as your own, a reassuring sign that he wasn’t as composed as he seemed.

“Crowe,” you whispered, barely able to hear your voice over the pounding in your ears. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, his expression raw and unguarded.

“Please say my real name,” he murmured, his tone almost pleading.

“Jericho,” you corrected, savoring the way his name felt on your lips. He let out a shaky exhale, his hands tightening their grip on you. His lips found yours again, this time rougher, more desperate.

His hips shifted beneath you, and the friction drew a soft moan from your throat. “Do you have any idea,” he breathed between kisses, “how long I’ve wanted this?”

The heat between them was undeniable, the air practically crackling with energy. Every touch and every movement seemed to amplify the heady rush of desire rushing through their veins.

When his hips rocked against your own, another soft gasp escaped your lips, the friction so new, so sweet. Jericho presses himself against you, feeling the bulge within the confinements of his pants.

You gripped his shoulders tighter, steadying yourself as your thoughts became hazy with each press of his lips to your skin, proceeding to attack your neck with nibbles, determined to leave multiple marks instead of one.

Your voice, already breathless, managed a shaky reply, "No, but I... I'm sure it's half as long as I've wanted you." Suddenly, he pulled you closer, his hips rocking gently against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each movement brought a gasp or a groan to your lips, the friction between you growing more heated with every second.

“Please let me make you wonderful,” Jericho murmured against your neck, his voice low and soft… all of it was a delicious yet torturous sensory overload.

And at his murmured plea, your breath caught in your throat, snapping your consciousness back. Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Jericho," They managed your voice a ragged breath. “I’m the one supposed to make you feel good.”

Jericho pulled back slightly, enough to meet your gaze, "You... already make me feel good," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Just being here with you... it makes me feel more alive than anything else." His eyes filled with love, desire, and lust. “Would you let me?” He begged, “I promise to make you feel great. I want you to feel amazing.”

His words were spoken with such sincere conviction and lust. The raw honesty in them, the way he looked at you… You couldn't help yours; your fingers left his shoulders to gently cup his face. “I don't just mean at this moment," They said softly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "I mean... I want to make you feel good in every way possible. I want..."

You faltered, unsure how much you dared to say aloud. Instead, you shifted, sliding off his lap and onto your knees before him. The movement was fluid yet intentional, your gaze never leaving his as you knelt at his feet,

Jericho swallowed, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of you at his feet. It was a sight he had never imagined before, yet now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. "What... what are you doing?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You could see the surprise, the hint of confusion mixed with a heady sort of excitement in his eyes as they knelt before him. The position was submissive, yes, but it gave you a unique sort of control over the situation.

Your hands, now free, rose to rest on his thighs, your fingers tracing small circles on the inner fabric of his sweatpants. Your voice was soft and firm

"I'm taking care of you," They said quietly. "So just... lean back and relax." Your hand slithers to the base of his sweatpants.

Jericho let out a low, shaky breath as your fingers brushed his skin, the fleeting touch electrifying. Shivers coursed up his spine, and he bit down on a gasp, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and anticipation. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked softly, his hands hesitating for a moment before helping you slide his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth motion.

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under his gaze. “No… Is that a bad thing?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head immediately, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “No, it’s not a bad thing,” he said, his tone gentle yet weighted with emotion. “If anything… it makes it all the more special.” But then his expression shifted, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. He looked at you almost apologetically. “I’m sorry about this.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Hm? About what?”

The moment the fabric pooled at his feet, the answer became crystal clear. Vulnerability washed over Jericho as he leaned back slightly, his chest rising and falling with steady, deep breaths. Your eyes widened in surprise, freezing as they landed on the sight before you.

He cleared his throat, a hint of self-consciousness in his tone. “Uh… it gets a little bigger when I’m fully hard. Just thought I’d warn you.” His cheeks flushed a light pink, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usually composed demeanor.

For a brief moment, you were speechless, caught between awe and disbelief. The sheer size of him was… impressive, to say the least. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat suddenly impossible to ignore. A nervous laugh almost bubbled up, but it was stifled by the intensity of the moment.

“I… see,” you managed to say, your voice soft but tinged with a teasing edge. Your lips twitched into a small smirk. “A little bit bigger, huh? I’m curious to see just how much more it grows.”

Jericho chuckled lightly at your words, his nervousness easing ever so slightly. Still, he reached out, his hand brushing your arm as if to steady both of you. “Take your time,” he said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your nervous energy. “Ease into it. And, uh… it’s okay if your teeth touch, just—maybe try not to bite down?”

A laugh escaped you this time, a blend of amusement and nerves. “I’ll do my best to keep my jaws in check,” you teased, the shy undertone in your voice making the moment feel strangely intimate.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out, your touch tentative but curious. The warmth of him against your palm was startling, the weight and solidity grounding you. Your grip adjusted instinctively, firm but careful, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jericho.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gave a quick nod. “You won’t,” he assured you, his voice rough with restraint.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. There was something intoxicating in the way his eyes burned with trust and desire. Leaning forward, you let your lips brush against the sensitive tip of his cock, soft and deliberate.

A low, guttural moan escaped him, his head falling back against the bed. His hands clenched at his sides, resisting the urge to move and disrupt your rhythm. “Gods,” he muttered, his voice breaking.

Encouraged by his reaction, you placed a series of soft kisses along the reddened head, your movements exploratory yet tender. Jericho’s breaths grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each passing second. He forced himself to remain still, his muscles tensing as he let you set the pace, his desire to guide overshadowed by his determination to let you take your time.

Your lips curled into a small smile as you continued, the moment feeling raw and unfiltered. Slowly, the tension began to melt away, replaced by a shared sense of trust and discovery.

Jericho sighed when they took his lenght in your mouth. It’s already bigger than when he first pulled it out, quickly growing hard despite his reluctance to hold back. You feel it press in past your lips, dragging across your tongue, and finally hit the back of your throat. That’s it. That’s as far as it goes, right?

Looking forward, you can see that he’s not in your mouth. “Try to relax your throat,” he tells you. “That’s it, you’re doing good.” Jericho prasied. His voice sends goosebumps across your skin as his massive cock slides even further in, going partially down your throat.

“Make sure to breathe through your nose,” he added.

Your hands are on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his pants. You’re gagging slightly, trying to keep it under control and focus on breathing. After what feels like forever, your jaw is sore, and your throat aches.

Tears fill your eyes, which Jericho notices and looks at you guiltily before moving one large hand over to gently rub the top of your head. “Good girl,” he says, “you’re taking me well.”

The statement makes heat spread over your face. Then you remember that you’re supposed to be making him cum. The thought of it makes you excited somehow. You feel the urge to pleasure him, to make him feel good. He’s been so sweet to you, after all. He hasn’t moved at all, letting you do things at your own pace. Looking up at his face, it’s clearer than ever how gorgeous he is.

You tighten your lips around his base, your tongue gliding across the underside of his cock while your tight throat constricts around his tip. He looks down at you suddenly, deep blue eyes slightly widened. You give him a tentative swirl of your tongue.

He can’t tear his eyes away as he watches you work your magic on him. The sight of you, the feel of your tongue, it’s the most incredible and overwhelming thing he’s ever experienced. He can’t help but let out another deep, guttural moan as the sensations wash over him. “Gods, yes. Just like that,” he pants, his voice low and rough.

“You’re so good at this. So damn good.” He reaches out, gently tangling his fingers in your hair, not to control your movements but just to have something to hold onto.

The inside of your mouth felt nice and warm, causing him to shudder from the sensation. Eventually, his hand grips your hair and, for the first time, unintentionally thrusts into your throat. You feel a bit of force from him as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat and almost choking you.

Jericho lets out a low moan as you suck faster, wanting to hear the desperate need for ecstasy while taking pleasure from each sound he makes. He grips your hair roughly and throws his head back, but you don’t seem to mind. After all, you want him to make more sounds.

You take the entire cock inside your mouth again, feeling the cock becoming harder than before, nodding your head up and down and swirling your tongue around his cock, making sure to aim for the tip as well, savoring the pre-cum taste. Your eyes travel to his face, beholding the euphoric expression as he bites his lips, feeling you lick the slightest bit of cum that leaks from him,

Jericho could barely hold himself together as you pleasured him, his head spinning and his body writhing. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with lust and intense with love.

“You’re... you’re driving me crazy,” he managed, his voice rough and breathless. “…God.” His moans and gasps are like music to your ears, fueling that excitement as they suck and move your head in all the ways that they know will drive him wild.

“Mmh.” You suck faster and faster, your fingers fumbling with his balls as your swallow his cock even deeper down your throat—he didn’t think any more could be possible.

He’s so deep in your throat that whenever you thrust his cock in, your nose nearly touches his pelvis. Jericho can’t help but thrust your mouth down his needy cock down your throat again.

Immediately, you feel his warm cum flood your mouth, coating the back of your tongue and oozing down your neck. His hand quickly releases you, “Sorry, love, I couldn’t help it…” He mutters another apology. His face looks slightly flushed, and he’s breathing a little harder.

Oh god, he looks so hot right now—is all you think about, feeling the growing dampness between your legs as you stare up at him, his now soft cock still in your mouth.

“No one’s ever made me feel this way before. Gods, you’re... incredible,” Jericho murmurs, his voice heavy with awe and lingering desire. His words hang in the air, electric and intimate. The way he looks at you—half in disbelief, half in reverence—sends a shiver down your spine.

Without hesitation, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the velvety, slick surface of his cock. Your tongue darts out, teasing the sensitive tip, and you savor the salty-sweet taste that lingers there. Slowly, deliberately, you begin to suckle, your tongue swirling and pressing against every ridge and curve. A soft moan escapes his lips, though he quickly clamps his mouth shut, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Jericho’s chest heaves and his hands grip the soft couch beneath him, knuckles whitening as he fights to stay still. His breath hitches, and he glances away, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he battles the urge stirring within him. His jaw tightens, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to find you.

“You’re... you’re sure you want to keep going?” he asks, his voice strained and hoarse. Despite the question, his fingers reach out instinctively, trailing down the side of your face.

His touch is warm, trembling ever so slightly as if he's trying to ground himself. “I don’t want to wear you out,” he adds, his brows furrowing even as his lips part to let out a shallow exhale.

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a soft smile, and your heart clenches at the mixture of vulnerability and yearning in his eyes. There's a rawness to him, an unguarded honesty that makes your chest tighten with affection. His concern feels genuine, but so does the hunger simmering beneath his words—a need he can’t quite hide.

Jericho looks down at you again, his heart pounding so loudly you can almost hear it. His disheveled hair falls into his eyes, and he brushes it back absentmindedly, the action making him seem almost boyish in his tenderness.

Despite the way his breathing is still uneven, he manages to smile faintly. “You’ve already done such a good job,” he says softly, his fingers brushing over your messy hair in an almost reverent gesture.

You feel a pang of something deep and inexplicable—a selfish kind of love, one that makes you want to claim and cherish every part of him. The thought takes root in your chest, blooming with a quiet intensity. Jericho’s hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw.

From this moment, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than here, tangled in his warmth his selfish love.

#tkatb crowe #jericho crowe ichabod #the kid at the back vn #the kid at the back Crowe #crowe x reader #crowe ichabod #the kid at the back Jericho #smut #jericho ichabod #the kid at the back #the kid at the back x reader #tkatb smut

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satorena · 2 years ago

Text

✮⋆˙ PUSSY FAIRY ON THE WAY !?

featuring. g. suguru x fem!reader

warnings. explicit content, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, fwb!reader, phone sex, fingering, squirting, reader has a vagina and tattoos on her fingers.

rena’s note. based off the line “i touch myself just thinking about you” 🌬️

11:45pm: *2 photo attachments*

11:45pm: missin’ my pretty girl

it was almost painfully embarrassing how easily aroused two simple pictures could get you. it didn’t take much for your cotton panties beneath your oversized tee to get damp with slick, squeezing your thighs together to stimulate some sort of friction.

you stared for god knows how long at your phone screen, the bright light illuminating a mean and girthy dick you’re all too well accustomed to. its brown tip raging red and leaking pre come you’d familiarize yourself with. the bulging veins on the underside of his shaft peeked through sensitive skin, mimicking the veins on the owner’s hands and wrists.

simple details on the man, such as rings and bracelets and beauty marks and an oozing tip, had you licking the tip of your fingers before slipping them past your panties, meeting your bare pussy, flinching at the contact and chilly breeze of your bedroom.

“fuck,” you sighed, head thrown back into the pillow. you performed circles at your clit, teasing yourself with your light touches.

this was exactly how suguru had his way with you. he took his time—though he preferred using his tongue but that wasn’t exactly an option as of right now— by thumbing at your clit and watching you unravel and crumble at his touch.

you mimicked your thoughts, the attention at your bundle of nerves sending blissful shockwaves throughout your limbs. your thighs squeezed together from the pleasure, and you recalled that suguru would have forced them open and made you take it like the good girl you are.

your hole clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled with what couldn’t be provided at the moment. soft whines came out your throat while you ground your hips up, subconsciously chasing your own hand in need of more pressure.

so lost in yourself, your screen dimmed, noting it would soon shut off, before pinging once more at a newer notification.

11:49pm: left on read huh…

11:50pm: don’t tell me you’ve started without me mama?

you don’t even bother trying to reply, knowing he would ring up your line in a few. good, you could use his voice in your ears while getting off, after all— suguru had officially ruined you for anybody else.

as expected, your phone buzzed in your hand and you swiped the call eagerly, pressing it on speaker before resting it on your chest.

“suguuu,” you greet him, bottom lip stuck in between your teeth. your other hand goes to slip under your tee, and grasp at your bare chest, groping firmly at the tender mound.

“you kept me waiting,” he chuckles, though you notice it’s breathy, as if forcing it out. you hear shuffling, and he heaves out a sigh, “missed you, pretty.”

“mhmm, missed you more,” you intensify the pace on your clit, fuzzy sock-cladded toes curling from the building pleasure. “need you here, sugu,”

you mewl his name, the nickname rolling off your pink tongue and into your phone speaker. the neediness behind your tone had him groaning, cursing out a ‘fuck’ and suddenly the sound of fapping grew consistent.

“oh yeah?” he tries, tries, to come off cocky but he’s just as needy as you are. perhaps even more, as the hold on his cock tightens. “tell me more baby. what else?”

you figure it’s finally time to focus your attention on your folds, which had soaked up your cunt and sheets beneath you the minute he called. your index and middle finger graze at your lips, and you whine at the sensitivity.

“want you here,” you moan, rubbing figure eights at your your folds. you stimulate your cunt in a familiar pattern, the same way suguru always worked on you. “w-want your fingers deep in my pussy, fuckin’ me open and—hah, making a mess outta me—need it suguru!”

“shit baby,” he chuckles, though muffled, as you fail to notice he’s got the hem of his wife beater tucked in between his teeth. “want me to tell you what i’d do to you if we were together?”

“yes!” you beg, unashamed as your back arches off the surface of your bed. your limbs felt liquified and there was something about his voice that had your pussy glistening terribly.

“mm, well,” he begins, his thumb grazing over his slit as he pictured you doing a million times. “i’d start off with kisses at your thighs. y’love it whenever i bite, dont’cha? love it when i mark you as mine, hm?”

you nod your head, despite the fact he can’t see. “always sugu, feels so good!”

“and when i get sick of teasing myself, i’d push your panties to the side and kiss your pretty clit,” geto sighs, almost in a trance by his own words. they roll of his tongue so naturally, stomach clenching as he imagines the things he’d do to you if he was able to.

“kiss your pretty clit before playing with it. i know it drives you—fuck—crazy. yeah, it drives you crazy and you love to act like you hate being teased, but baby, your pussy tells me otherwise,”

he spoke so sinfully in your ears, soft voice being a major contrast to the intense words that left his mouth. it churned deep in your guts, sending butterflies with a mix of straight arousal.

“i do— fuckin’ love it—” you cut yourself off, the hand on your breast tweaking with the stiff bud, twisting and pinching at it.

“you fingering yourself yet?” he asks you, and you shake your head, humming a soft ‘uhn uhn’, he continues, upping the pace of his own jerking, “good girl—get your tatted fingers in f’me, wanna hear your pretty pussy speak to me.”

“o-okay” you comply to his order, easing the void of emptiness by sliding your middle and ring finger inside your clenching pussy.

you moan loudly at the intrusion, the stretch nothing close to suguru’s fingers, but still enough to satisfy you for the time being. you feel your soft walls clench around your digits, begging for more. at the wet squelch of your cunt, you hear geto chuckle through the phone, “there we go, my favorite language.”

“wish you were here sugu—hnng, need you here and—and takin’ care of me!” you voice out your thoughts, your fingers gradually picking up their pace and plowing in your insides.

“sugu’s being mean, isn’t he? ‘m sorry baby, for not doin’ my—shit—job,” geto apologizes, the sound of his lubricated cock being jerked resonating in the depths of your ear drums.

“match my rhythm, mama,” he instructs you to follow, and despite you being so deep in your own thoughts and moans, you focus on the faint sound of his fist chafing his dick.

and so, your fingers plunge in and out your wet core, pussy gushing slickness, just to please geto.

“that’s it—my good girl, mmh, always doin’ so perfect.”

his praises did wonders to your body, as you felt an oncoming orgasm approach. your gut heated and tightened into a familiar coil, and your thighs threatened to close in on your hands.

“sugu, baby, ‘m getting close!” you warn him, now roughly grabbing at your other boob that lacked attention.

“me too, pretty girl—me too,” he grunts, the pace of his jerking increasing greatly. he works up and down his length with two hands and purpose, breathing heavily and watching his abdomen contracting tightly.

“play with your clit,” suguru breathes out, a whine escaping his throat momentarily. you moan at the unexpected sound, and he continues, “please baby—play with your clit f’me”

he begged and fuck, you’d never felt yourself be so attracted to his voice the way you did right now.

“feels’good” you slur, drool pooling at the corner of your parted lips. you multitasked with toying at your puffy clit with scissoring your cave, the drag of your fingers and stimulation of your bundle of nerves opening the dam.

“cummin’ sugu—hnng, fuck, oh fuck!” you cry out, far too loud as you release on your hand. your juices spill and you drip down to the crack of your ass, down to the sheets, soaking up your panties and mattress.

you continue to fuck yourself as best as you could despite your body jerking at the sensitivity, thighs quaking and back arched off the bed.

“r-right behind ya princess—oh fuck y/n” you hear his voice break as he shoots his load onto himself, his pretty moans all in your ears. he sounded melodic, your name belonging on his tongue as it sends tingles all over your nerves.

after a few minutes, your high comes down, and you slowly pull your fingers out of your pussy, wincing at the contact. geto’s gone quiet, safe for the panting on the other side of the phone, most likely attempting to ground himself from his own orgasm.

you clench your thighs and jolt at the sensitivity. your skin felt clammy and sticky with your arousal, and your bedroom now smelled of your sex. you miss suguru’s scent, and how much differently your sheets would’ve smelt with him in it.

“taste yourself for me,” suguru speaks up, breathless.

you do as he says, bringing your fingers up and wrapping your plump lips around your digits. you moan softly, before giggling cutely when you hear the man groaning in desperation.

“quit makin’ me jealous,” he sighs, the words almost coming out like a whine. “nothin’ gets sweeter than your pussy, swear on everything.”

you can only think of a simple solution for his complaints. you shrug, popping your lips off your soaked hand, “pull up on me then.”

the line goes quiet for a bit, and you can practically hear the arrogant smirk on his face, which only makes your lips tug into a similar smile.

“your fine ass better be ready for me in ten.”

mind you this is a canon moment between me & him 🫦

#rena☆star.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk geto #x reader

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sillygoose067 · 22 days ago

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Sunshine & Snuggles

Joaquin Torres x reader

The morning light crept through the blinds, soft and golden, casting gentle lines across the rumpled sheets. You and Joaquin had been awake for a while, tangled together in the warmth of your bed, his arm draped lazily around your waist, your legs still intertwined beneath the blankets. His bare chest pressed against your side, the steady, comforting rise and fall of his breaths a quiet, familiar rhythm against your shoulder.

“Mornin’, hermosa,” he murmured, his lips brushing the warm, sleep-flushed skin just below your ear, his voice still thick with that slow, gravelly tone that clings to the edges of his words when he first wakes up.

You hummed a soft, contented sound in response, your fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles along the curve of his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady, comforting thrum of his pulse beneath your touch.

“I could stay like this all day,” you whispered, leaning back just enough to catch the soft, drowsy curve of his smile, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he let out a low, rumbling chuckle.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me, cariño,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling gently against your temple as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw.

You lay there like that for a while, your breaths falling into the same slow, steady rhythm, your bodies wrapped up in the warm, drowsy tangle of sheets and each other’s limbs. Every now and then, his lips would drift back to your neck, his breath warm and featherlight against your skin as he murmured sweet, sleepy endearments in Spanish, his deep, rumbling voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Then, the baby monitor crackled softly on the nightstand, cutting through the sleepy quiet of the room, and you both stilled, heads turning slightly toward the small, glowing device as your daughter’s familiar, high-pitched babbles echoed through the tiny speaker. Her tiny, curious voice filled the room, a cheerful, singsong stream of sounds as she woke up in her crib, already chattering away to the shadows dancing on her nursery walls.

Joaquin’s lips curved into a sleepy grin against your cheek, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “There she goes again. Little morning chatterbox.”

You laughed softly, your fingers tightening gently against his shoulder as you shook your head. “Oh, please, you know she gets that from her daddy,” you teased, pressing a playful kiss to the corner of his mouth, the taste of him warm and familiar, like the slow, steady heat of a summer morning.

He chuckled, nuzzling his nose gently against yours, his warm, dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he whispered, “Okay, fine. You got me there.”

The baby monitor crackled again, another stream of soft, lilting babbles filling the room, and Joaquin sighed, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before reluctantly untangling himself from the warm, comfortable cocoon of blankets.

“I’ll get her,” he murmured, stretching his long limbs as he rolled out of bed, his bare feet padding softly against the cool hardwood floor as he made his way down the hall, the sound of his footsteps fading into the gentle, early morning quiet.

You could hear the soft, creaking hinge of the nursery door, followed by Joaquin’s low, lilting voice, his words too soft to make out clearly but unmistakably warm and affectionate. A moment later, he reappeared in the doorway, your daughter bundled snugly in her swaddle, her tiny, round head resting just under his chin, her big, dark eyes blinking sleepily as she took in the warm, familiar surroundings of your bedroom.

“There’s mi chiquita,” he cooed, carefully climbing back onto the bed, settling her down on the soft, rumpled sheets between the two of you.

He leaned over, gently working the edges of her swaddle loose, his large, calloused hands surprisingly gentle as he unwrapped her, the soft, cotton fabric falling away to reveal her tiny, wiggling body, her chubby little arms and legs slowly stretching out for the first time since she’d been bundled up the night before.

Both of you watched, utterly captivated, as she arched her tiny back, her fists stretching above her head, her little toes curling as her face scrunched up in that exaggerated, full-body stretch that only babies seem to master. Her pink, bow-shaped lips formed a small, perfect “o” as she let out a contented, squeaky little sigh, her tiny fists waving unsteadily in the air as if testing the boundaries of this newly unwrapped freedom.

“Oh, look at that big stretch,” Joaquin whispered, his eyes shining with that soft, unmistakable awe you’d seen on his face a hundred times since she was born. He leaned down, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to her chubby cheek, earning a delighted, toothless smile in return as her tiny fists batted uncoordinatedly at his face.

Then, with a soft, playful huff, he scooped her up, settling her small, warm body against his broad, bare chest, her tiny, downy head nestled just beneath his chin, her small, curious hands clumsily batting at the cool, metallic surface of his dog tags as they dangled against his skin.

“Oh, you like those, hm?” he murmured, leaning back against the headboard as her tiny fingers curled around the cool, jangling plates, flipping them over and over with that intense, baby-like concentration as if trying to decipher the cryptic engravings.

For a moment, he let her fumble with them, her dark, curious eyes narrowing slightly as she brought the cool metal closer to her wide, determined eyes, her tiny, pink tongue peeking out between her gummy lips as she prepared to give them a good, slobbery taste.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he chuckled, gently pulling the chain away from her grasp before she could fit them into her mouth. “Not for the mouth, mija.”

He leaned down, pressing a series of quick, playful kisses to her round, chubby cheeks, making her squeal with delight, her tiny fists batting unsteadily at his face as if already trying to pull him back in for more.

Eventually, he carefully set her back down on the mattress between you, her small, wriggling body sinking into the soft, rumpled sheets as she let out a soft, babbling coo, her tiny, clumsy hands reaching out to pat softly at your bare arm, her dark, curious eyes flicking between the two of you.

You watched as she babbled up at the ceiling, her tiny, chubby cheeks flushed pink with excitement, her little fists waving unsteadily in the air as if trying to grasp the faint, early morning light filtering through the blinds.

“She’s definitely your daughter,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her other cheek, your heart swelling as her dark, curious eyes flicked between the two of you, her tiny mouth working through a series of soft, babbling coos as if already trying to join in on the conversation.

Eventually, Joaquin reluctantly pulled himself from the bed, muttering something about breakfast as he disappeared down the hall, leaving you and your daughter alone in the soft, warm cocoon of the blankets.

When he returned a few minutes later, a tray balanced carefully in his hands, your daughter had begun to fuss, her tiny fists waving unsteadily in the air as she curled instinctively against your chest, her little nose nuzzling into the warm, familiar curve of your breast.

“Oh, somebody’s hungry, too,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft, affectionate smile as he carefully set the tray down on the mattress beside you, leaning in to help you adjust your daughter’s tiny body, his hands warm and steady against your sides as he guided her to your chest.

Joaquin settled in behind you, his bare chest warm and solid against your back, his strong arms wrapping snugly around your waist as you leaned into his embrace, your daughter still nestled comfortably against your chest, her tiny fingers flexing and curling as she nursed, her round, curious eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Look at her, she’s getting so big,” Joaquin whispered, his voice low and full of quiet awe as his lips brushed the soft curve of your jaw. His hand rested gently against your side, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against your hip, his eyes never leaving your daughter’s tiny, perfect face.

You felt a warm, familiar swell of affection bloom in your chest at the soft, reverent tone of his voice, the quiet, unspoken awe that seemed to have settled between the two of you in the months since she’d been born, that deep, unshakable love that seemed to grow with every tiny coo, every toothless smile, every soft, sleepy sigh.

After a moment, Joaquin shifted slightly behind you, his arm slipping away from your waist as he reached over to the breakfast tray he’d set beside you, carefully selecting a small piece of fresh fruit from the colorful array of food he’d prepared.

“Here,” he whispered, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gently brought the piece of fruit to your lips, his thumb brushing softly against the corner of your mouth as you took a small, appreciative bite, the sweet juices bursting across your tongue.

You hummed softly in gratitude, leaning back against his broad, solid chest as he reached for his own plate, his long, graceful fingers carefully plucking a piece of toast from the tray, his eyes still fixed on your daughter as she continued to nurse, her tiny, pink mouth working in that steady, instinctive rhythm, her chubby little hand still patting softly against your skin.

For a few minutes, the two of you shared your breakfast in comfortable, contented silence, Joaquin occasionally leaning in to press soft, lingering kisses to the side of your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as his free hand drifted back to cradle the small, round curve of your daughter’s head, his thumb brushing gently over the delicate curve of her skull.

Then, as if sensing that the world had shifted back into focus around her, your daughter finally released from your breast, her tiny, perfect face turning slightly to gaze up at you, her dark, curious eyes wide and bright, her tiny, chubby fists flexing and curling. You lift her to your shoulder to burp her.

Joaquin chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a long, breathless moment. “Thank you for giving me such a beautiful family.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with that familiar, all-encompassing warmth as you leaned into his touch, your hand drifting up to rest against his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over the rough, stubbled curve of his jaw as you whispered, “I couldn’t do it without you.”

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aakeysmash · 1 year ago

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first meeting: college!sukuna and f!reader

content: smut (degradation, masturbation (feet are involved for f), m oral, light slapping (1), manhandling, spit), a little bit of crack, i love yuuji and he's my metphorical little brother okay (he's 9), reader has siblings because i said so, also bigbro!sukuna

It’s not the sound of the sheets rustling that wakes him up, but an ass pressing on his groin. Not like he can complain about not sleeping much; the pretty moans still reverberating in his skull are a testament to that.

He hears a yawn before feeling two hands searching for his warmth. He lazily obliges and scoots a little bit next to the body he has next to him. He lets these roaming hands touch his body, trying not to cringe. He’s not fond of physical contact if it’s not on his cock, and having someone grab his bicep while sighing dramatically about how strong he feels makes him want to puke. But you’ve got to give ‘em what they want before taking what you want.

He curses in his mind. He broke the first rule: never let a chick sleep in your bed after you fuck her. His head is killing him, the sun entering from his bedroom window making him squint. He must have fallen asleep. He remembers everything from last night: whoever says alcohol makes you forget stuff is just weak. One of the guys he shared the complex he lived in threw a goodbye party since he was moving out, and he wasn’t one to refuse free alcohol. His ex-almost-roommate invited a bunch of people from college, and Sukuna remembers that there were a couple of girls that didn’t stop whispering to each other while looking at him, chuckling behind their hands and blushing. One in particular was pretty, dancing and smiling at everyone before focusing her gaze on Sukuna and never leaving it. A classic. He played her game a bit, and she twirled when he asked her to, acting innocent when he asked her if he could lick salt from between her boobs before taking a shot of tequila. Boobs that turned out to still be salty when he licked and sucked her nipples an hour later, and twirl she did, but this time on his dick, the innocent act all gone. He fucked her like he owned her, and she got fucked like she wanted to be owned by him.

“‘Morning, ‘Kuna,” a whisper in the quiet of his room. Sweet, sweet voice whose hands are now traveling towards his hardening cock. He looks at the clock in front of his bed and makes sure to not roll his eyes too obviously, opting to grab her ass to make the process of riling her up faster. He has to leave for practice in 30 minutes, but a blowjob will do.

His hand travels to her front, expert hands finding her clit immediately. He barely touches it and she trembles in his arms, already panting. So responsive. He smirks. This will take less than he anticipated.

“You’re wet already? You’re such a slut,” he groggily says in her ear. She moans. She likes that shit. His fingers find her opening, making sure to take some of her wetness before focusing on making small little eights on her bundle of nerves. “Spread these legs and shut the fuck up. The whole dorm already knows you’re enjoying yourself, you made sure they heard you last night,” he points out, biting her lobe. She opens her legs like the smart girl she is, and whines every time his middle finger catches on the hood of her sweet button. She babbles something along the lines of so close, so close, but right now he pays it no mind. “Don- don’t you dare stop-” another moan. Sukuna dips both his middle and ring finger in her opening, grinding his palm on her clit, feeling her arch her back against his chest. He knows his stuff: he’s degrading, demanding, evil, but he likes his women pleased thoroughly. Her pussy is squeezing him hard, when he suddenly registers what she said and gets away from her, bored. It’s not the first time some random girl thinks she can make him do whatever she wants just because she made him cum the night before. Which is not even completely true, because he always pulls out, even wearing a condom, and finishes with his hand. There’s no way a bum who lets a stranger fuck her is becoming his baby mama. He’s too young to deal with future college dropouts.

She starts complaining, saying how he’s so mean, ‘Kuna, you’ve been doing this all night, please let me cum, I’ve been so good to you, but Sukuna just manhandles her and gets her on the floor. He seats himself in front of her, grabbing her hair roughly and positioning her head right in front of his standing dick. She yelps, forced to look up at him and his red irises. Her eyelashes flutter, her mouth opens a bit, and she gets wetter. He’s so big and strong, his arm flexing from how he’s making her strain her neck, looking down like a king does not even toward a servant, but toward a roach.

“You’re not going to tell me what I can and can’t do, bitch,” he starts saying, glaring at her menacingly. “And I remember you cumming quite a lot yesterday, actually,” he adds smugly, and she shuts her mouth. She did cum a lot. He never missed the chance to make her scream his name. “Now start sucking, I’ll let you get off on my feet. You should be thanking me, I don’t usually let brats like you stay a second time.”

He then squishes her cheeks with the hand that’s not in her hair, making her pucker her lips. She looks at him with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights. She’s quite literally hanging off his every word. He’s so sexy. I can’t let him be upset with me, or he won’t let me see him again! I want to be his girl so bad.

“Open up,” he tells her, and she doesn’t need to be told twice. She’s equally aroused and scared. She sticks her tongue out, getting her hands behind her back and her feet under her ass. Obedient little thing. Sukuna goes to spit into her open mouth, but he makes sure to miss and spits on her cheek instead. She flinches, but she doesn’t move.

“Oops,” he grins, then collects his saliva from her face and slips his digits past her lips, choking her with them. “Swallow,” he commands.

“But-” she tries to speak, and he responds by pressing down hard on her tongue and making her gag.

“I said swallow, whore,” he repeats, rougher this time. She makes sure to listen to him, starting to tear up. He gets his fingers out of her mouth and lightly slaps her cheek with that same hand. 20 minutes left.

“Good girl. Now suck this cock,” he orders. She doesn’t miss a beat, bobbing her head up and down. He pushes her head down how he pleases, and she starts grinding on his foot. The only sound that can be heard inside of the room is the obnoxious slurping she’s making to accommodate his length inside her mouth. He’s big, girthy, with a pretty black band on the base she’s never quite reaching, and he tastes good, so good. Almost like yesterday after cumming he scrubbed himself clean in an extra meticulous manner. Almost self deprecating, almost as if he wanted to remove his skin as a whole. Almost as if he regretted fucking a stranger just for the pleasure of it, again. But like most things about him, it’s only ever going to be an almost. Even for himself.

It’s so humiliating, choking on his dick while desperately trying to find relief, but she has to do it. She has to. His imposing aura doesn’t make her do anything that he doesn’t want to be done. Also, sucking the cock of one of the hottest guys on campus is a major turn on for whoever gets to do it, and she’s not passing up the opportunity to tell her friends from her hometown about it. She’s been at this college just two weeks and she already achieved this? They’re not going to believe their ears.

She doesn’t know that she’s not special: he’s known for fucking random girls, but they still flock to him like moths to a flame. Maybe it’s his bad boy aura, or them thinking they could change him, but the only real fact is that he’s still fucking and they’re still getting their hearts broken. Not like he gives a single fuck, anyway. As long as he gets an orgasm out of it.

“Hollow those cheeks,” he grunts, and she obliges. He’s getting bored, her head game isn’t that strong, and at this rate he’s never going to cum in time. He looks at the clock again. He has 5 minutes. This girl is sure taking her sweet time, and he’s pretty sure she already came 2 different times from how wet his foot is feeling and how she’s losing momentum again. Disgusting. Nasty whore.

He concentrates on feeling at least a bit of euphoria, making his orgasm nearer. He’d fuck her throat, but he doesn’t feel like it this morning since his head is still hurting a bit, and whatever he decides to do is law inside of his room. He’s about to nut, and he knows her jaw must be hurting, but it’s not his fault he lasts long. They never complain about it when they’re getting pounded, either. 2 minutes.

Suddenly, someone knocks at his door. He rolls his eyes and ignores it. Then, another three knocks. His eye ticks. Time slows down for him: he sees the girl at his feet widening her eyes and hazily looking up at him. He has a quick realization: he was about to cum and now he’s not going to. Then, a slow one: he’s pissed off because of the quick realization. He acts as if he didn’t hear it, again, and the girl opens her mouth again, but whoever is on the other side must be pretty persistent, because they start knocking and this time they don’t stop.

Now he’s not only pissed off, he’s angry. Who the fuck disturbs him on a Saturday morning?

He scowls, scoffs and then stands up. “I’m fucking coming,” he loudly says. He almost hears someone say fucking finally, but he’s not sure of it. He gives them the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t spare the girl on the floor a second glance before getting her out of the way by her hair and putting on a pair of sweatpants. She tumbles, not sitting prettily anymore. She looks disheveled and a bit out of words. He senses she didn’t get the memo since she hasn’t moved from her place. She’s pissing him off, too. He hates dumb bitches.

“Dress yourself up. You have ten seconds before I open this damn door and let whoever the fuck is here see you like this,” he coldly says. She tries to respond, and he loses all his patience.

“Ten, nine, eight…” he starts counting fast. She wobbles over her dress as fast as she can and pulls it on her head, trembling, mascara from last night still on her cheeks, a bit of her spit on her chin. He’s so scary when he’s mad. Sexy, too, but really fucking scary. She finds that she’s not able to look up at him anymore, almost bowing while she brushes her hair with her hands. He’s not a king anymore, he’s a tyrant.

“But ‘Kuna, I thought we-”

He snickers, then stops looking at her again. “Girl, I don’t even remember your name. There’s no us. And stop calling me like that, it’s so fucking annoying.”

She feels like crying. She realizes that the degrading persona in the sheets wasn’t an act, he’s like that in real life too, and she gave it to him like he was special. Like she was special.

He slams the door open and instantly feels a punch on his naked chest. Huh?

“Ew,” you say surprised, jumping back, cleaning your hand on your jeans and making a disgusted face. He raises an eyebrow.

“Ew? Who the fuck are you? What the fuck do you want?” he curses. Who do you think you are?

You stretch your lips, giving his figure a once over. He’s half naked, gray sweatpants low on his hips, very tattooed. A really big contrast with the color of his hair, which is a bright pink. He’s tall, and very strong if his bulging muscles are an indicator of that. You guess he’d look scary if you weren’t slightly upset.

“I’m your new neighbor, if you can call it that. They told me I’d find you here, and I guess I found you,” you tell him trying not to sound too bitter about the fact he so obviously ignored you while you were knocking.

“No shit,” he answers, completely uninterested.

You tell him your name, stretching your hand to shake his. “Hope we can live peacefully for the next couple of years, yeah?” you say, trying (again) to be nice, forcing yourself to smile a little.

He looks at your hand without bothering to extend his, keeping his arms crossed. He looks utterly disgusted. ”Bye,” he says and he goes to turn back inside his room.

This guy is rude. You don’t do well with people who are rude for no reason whatsoever.

“Well then, I would’ve said I’m sorry for accidentally punching you since I was just about to knock again, but I’m more sorry for my hand who touched you,” you remark, not smiling anymore and glaring at him.

He raises his eyebrows. Oh, he really doesn’t like you, and he doesn’t even know who you are. Disturbing his peace and acting entitled? Hell no.

“Be grateful you still have a hand,” he growls, glaring at you just as hard.

“Be grateful I let you know I’m moving in without throwing all your shit out of our bathroom, bitch,” you immediately respond.

He chokes on a laugh.

“Yeah, sure. There’s no way they gave me a girl as a new roommate, stop using excuses. Did we fuck? Are you here to tell me I’m a big meanie for not contacting you again?” He juts his bottom lip out, like he’s mocking a toddler. “Get the fuck out of my face,” he tells you, starting to close the door in your face.

“No, dumbass, I wouldn’t touch you with the hands of another girl, imagine what I’d do with mine. If you don’t get your shit out in 3 minutes you’ll be washing yourself with hand soap,” you wittily remark.

“‘Ku- Sukuna, who’s that?” You hear from the girl inside of his room.

“Oooh, a girl. Is she the one who put the stick up your ass? Pegged you real good huh?” you ask him, fake smiling.

He looks pissed off to the max.

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you. You, get the fuck out of my room,” he says to the scared girl, “You, we’re done talking, I hate pretentious bitches like you,” he adds giving you a disgusted once over.

He doesn’t expect you to just stare at him, though, and it takes him off guard. He’s confused: not everyday someone tests his patience so hard first thing in the morning and even manages to react like nothing happened. It makes him want to murder you and your stupid attitude.

“Bro, you’re like, so fucking annoying. Whatever, little miss princess who orders everyone around and pretends that they should listen, too,” you tell him, unblinking.

Suddenly he’s all up in your face, towering over you, and you have to pretend that your breath doesn’t hitch. Finding yourself two centimeters from someone’s nose was not on your today’s bingo list. Much less if the person in this situation is more than 200 pounds of pure muscles.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He grits through his teeth. You can smell a bit of a smokey undertone in his breath, like he’s not a big smoker but still a smoker.

You get even closer, effectively touching your nose with his. He might be scary and the fact that he has a pair of tattooed eyes under his real ones is kind of freaking you out, but you’re not going to let a guy step on you on your first day of college. This should be one of the best years of your life, dammit.

“I called you a princess. Is that pissing you off, princess?” You repeat. He goes to shove you away but you’re faster and get away on your own.

“3 minutes, asshole. That’s all you have,” you say while walking toward the room close to his, not looking back. You feel his gaze on your back, and you flip him off before slamming your door closed.

Now alone, you start organizing your stuff to make space for the bed frame that should be arriving in a matter of hours. The lady at the reception told you that you’d have a male “roommate” and you planned on asking him for help, but there’s no way you’re asking anyone anything if they’re that big of an asshole.

You hear a light knock on your door and you almost jump out of your skin, startled, until you hear a foreign voice calling for you.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

You open the door and almost faint. “Oh my God, he shrinked,” you whine.

The pink haired kid you find yourself facing looks confused.

“Shrinked?” he says pensively. Then he must see how you’re glaring at him kinda meanly, and he gets it. “Oh! You must’ve encountered Sukuna. I’m Yuuji, his brother, nice to meet you,” he clarifies while rubbing behind his ear and smiling gently at you.

You’re so relieved by this piece of information that your demeanor changes radically.

“Well, I must say you two look identical. Minus the fact he’s a total asshole,” you tell him, rolling your eyes and relaxing. He chuckles while nodding, and you keep on rambling. “I’m sorry for not being nice immediately, but it’s been a long day. You know, moving in and all…” you try justifying yourself, smiling sheepishly.

“Sure, I get it. I just wanted to see who’s gonna be here for the next year. If you need a hand with anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door!” he says excitedly. He looks like a softer version of the beast of the man you just came across, and he radiates puppy energy. You can quite literally see his metaphorical tail shaking and his big puppy eyes blinking happily.

“Oh! You live here? I thought this was supposed to be a dorm for college students,” you ask, curious.

“Yeah, because it is. Big bro convinced the principal or whatever to make me stay, though. I wouldn’t have had a home to stay at, anyway,” he shrugs. You widen your eyes: these are not things you tell a stranger about. This kid is either too naive or too used to things like these. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, like this is a recurrent conversation for him. Like it’s basic knowledge for anyone that comes across him and his brother.

“Oh. I’m sorry for- prying?” you try saying, embarrassed, before changing the topic. “My door is always open too, you know. I have siblings, I don’t mind being interrupted from time to time since I’m used to it. Maybe we could play together? What do you like to do in your free time?”.

He looks at you with big brown eyes. He’s serious for three seconds, and he looks older, wiser. You can feel the way you’re starting to sweat, when he breaks out in a big smile.

“I like you. I don’t mind talking about the way I lack a family, but it’s nice when people act interested in more than that, you know? I like-”

“Brat, how many times have I told you to not bother people with your yapping?” you hear a deep voice saying from outside your door. The child in front of you lowers his metaphorical puppy ears, turning to look at whoever called him.

“But she’s nice! She asked me about it!” he responds. You hear footsteps approaching your bedroom.

“Who are you even talking-” Sukuna stops mid sentence, glancing at your still standing form, then raises one side of his upper lip, almost like he’s snarling. You reciprocate with a scoff of your own.

“Her? Nice?” he says mockingly.

“Wouldn’t even have guessed you were brothers by the way he has manners you clearly lack,” you respond, glaring at him. He clenches his jaw and you think he’s trying to reign in his temper in front of his little brother, but that must be your impression, because the next thing he does is get him in the air by his collar. Yuuji trashes a little bit, but Sukuna is too strong, and at one point he just gives up.

“Let’s go. You’re not talking to her anymore,” he says to his mini counterpart, beginning to turn around while dragging him behind his back.

“But she asked me to play with her! Come on, bro, I’m bored when you’re not here,” Yuuji says while pouting. In all of this you just stood next to your open door. You almost pity the little puppy, he genuinely seems like a good kid, and maybe it’s the big sister in you but you’d hate your little brother to be bored and sad while doing nothing.

“If you help me set up my room, we can play aaaall day,” you suddenly say, getting out in the hallway and winking at the smallest of the two. Sukuna stops dragging his little brother and snaps his head toward you.

He narrows his eyes. “You little-”

Yuuji manages to free himself from his brother’s hold and comes running in front of you.

“Deal! Deal!” he responds excitedly, then gets into your room and starts unpacking by himself. You chuckle, then smile to yourself: he makes you miss home.

“If you so much as crumple his shirt, consider yourself a dead woman,” you hear Sukuna’s breath on your neck. Your hairs stand and a shiver runs down your back.

“Sir yes sir,” you say, gulping loudly. It’s not until you hear him walking away that you turn around.

“Yo, big guy, did you manage to free the bathroom from your ugly 3 in 1 body wash?”

He flips you off, then gets out without saying another word.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna fic #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #college au #big brother au #sukuna crack #sukuna ryomen smut

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