#and i can hear him humming along

[honeykaes]

louder and louder

getting you to get loud hc’s feat. lyney, neuvillette, alhaitham and cyno

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, fingering (lyney), praise (lyney +neuvillette), exhibitionism (neuvillette), creampie (neuvillette), dacryphilia (neuvillette, cyno), face-sitting (alhaitham), cunnilingus  (alhaitham), toys (cyno), masturbation (cyno), overstimulation (cyno),

High on the adrenaline of completing a performance at the Opera Epiclese, as soon as he comes home to you a grin is plastered on the magician's face. Humming, his hands take your own twirling you throughout the room slowly guiding you to the bedroom as he kicks the door close with a soft thud.

His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss, hands resting on your cheek nibbling your bottom lip with fervor.

“Someone’s happy,” you hummed, letting Lyney’s skillful hands lift off the layers of your nightgown until you were bare for him. He chuckled, capturing your lips once more and leans his weight against your own—bottoms tumbling gently on the plush bed.

“What can I say, ma souris? I can’t end a night such as this without a grand enforce,” he cooed back. He laid above you, hand trailing up the curves along your leg before resting on your inner thigh. As he cups your cunt, a soft breath is emitted from your lips causing his grin to widen. He feels you grinding against his palm, your arousal beginning to smear against it.

“Eager, are we?” he cooed once more, pressing his lips against your neck, nibbling down at the sensitive skin. “I guess I have been neglecting you recently, hm?” 

His thumb brushed against your clit, causing your hips to involuntary buck—trying to get any bit of friction you could from Lyney. He blew his warm breath into your ear, causing you to shiver toying with the nub as he felt his appendage begin to coat in your slick. Two fingers slowly sank themselves into you, pumping at a slow pace while Lyney’s peppered his lips against your neck.

Lyney needed to hear your voice louder, he needed those soft whines of his name to stretch louder as if it was a roar of joyful noise at one of his shows. His cock strained against his tight pants, grinding itself against your leg.

“More..more…let me see you reach the heavens, mon cœur!” Lyney groaned out, pumping deeper inside of you. His fingers continuously brushed against your gummy walls, your high climbing further and further as your mouth finally opened, voice calling out your lover’s name. You squirmed underneath him as he tried to hold down your waist—his pace still relentlessly as the sinful squelching noise echoed in the melody with your voice.

“You have such a lovely voice. I hope to hear it even more tonight…!”

It’s been a long time since Neuvillette seemed puzzled by humans. It seemed this day in age, their nature seemed odd and contradictory in nature and this aspect leaned over towards his lover as well. He had always read stories of couples yelling their names in absolute pleasure when joining as one, yet whenever Neuvillette seemed to bed you—you seemed not to act like that.

He didn’t think he was bad at sex by any means, he had experience before after all and valued your pleasure over it. But because of that, he feared you weren’t being all that pleasured at all by him. He’d have to change that.

So here you were, in the ungodly hours at night bend over Neuvillette’s desk. You bit you shaky lips, feeling his heavy cock drag against your sensitive walls as his strokes reached deeper and deeper inside of you. The desk rattled to the pace of his thrust, his nails covered in leather, digging into the globe of your ass to spread you out wider.

Slick dribbled down on the marble ground, as he began to grunt loudly—brow furrowed as his frustrations grew.

“Why do you not want to moan for me? All I want to have is your voice echoing throughout these halls,” he grunted, pressing his lips deep in your ear. You bit you lip further before gasping, feelings Neuvillette softly clutch your groan. He could feel your pulse rapidly beat against his hand.

“I-It’s too embarrassing,” you choked out, feeling him grunt against and lay his upper half down on the desk allowing his cock to plunge even deeper inside of you. A mix of pleasure and pain swirled throughout your core as his tips nudged against your cervix.

“Please..mon amour…let me hear you say my name,” he begged in a low voice causing you to shiver. You hesitantly stopped biting your lips as your nails dug into the desk, rising in pitch as you called out the chief justice’s name repeatedly.

“That’s it…that’s it. You’re doing so well for me,” he grunted. Your walls fluttered against his cock as he began to get to Neuvillette, cock pulsating and desperate to release. His grip on your ass lifted, snaking it around to rub tight circles on your clit. Your whines rang out as you finally reached your peak, warming Neuvillette’s heart to the fullest as tears pricked your eyes.

His lips soaked up your salty tears as his hips soon faltered, thick ropes of cum spurting itself inside of you. Globs soon leaked out, joining your arousal on the once pristine floors as Neuvillette tried to catch his breath.

“...I hope to hear more of this side of you in the future.”

Alhaitham was also fairly quiet in bed. Besides his grunts and an occasional low moan of your name, he didn’t find himself being loud in showing you his love in the bedroom. This seemed to irk you so when you brought it up with him, he replied back you were no different—thus, a silent challenge between which one was right was soon immense, who could get the other to moan the loudest.

Your hips covered against his tanned face, eyes teal and orange eyes flickered up in amusement.

“You can back out now before you embarrass yourself,” he stated. You scoffed in response as he shrugged. You need to learn to give him a little more credit when knowing just how to make your body tick.

His large hands rested on your waist, before pushing you down so your cunt was against his mouth. You grinded your lips and bit your lip to prevent any noises from leaking out but that became harder feeling Alhaitham dart out his tongue, flattening it against your clit. Your legs shook as his tongue swiped against your slick, nudging firmly against the nub as one of his hands crept up and squeezed your ass.

His lower mouth was completely coated in your arousal, dripping down his chin and lower cheeks, but his fervor lapping you up did not stop once. He popped the bundle of nerves between his lips, sucking roughly at the nub as pleasure shot throughout your body, a low moan escaping your lips.

His lips curled up in a slight smirk before opening his mouth to let your clit go once more, before flickering it back and forth before sucking it once more. Your nails dug into your thighs, hips grinding themselves against his face.

“Al-Al-Alhaitham,” you sputtered out, walls clamping down on nothing as you frail on top of him, reaching your peak. His cheeks were read as he took big breaths, swiping his tongue against the slick that clung onto his lips.

“It would seem my hypothesis was correct. Now, what exactly should be my reward?”

Cyno was a bit more insecure than he liked to let on, especially when it came to his relationship with you. He often needed some reassurance, whether he asked for it directly or not. So, often times when he bedded you, he needed to hear your voice loud and echoing throughout the large deserts of Sumeru —to signal he was doing a good job pleasuring you.

But when times you didn’t seem to be loud enough for his taste, a bit of a sadistic streak would come out of him.

His scarlet eyes narrowed at the toys vibrating themselves inside of you, hardened cock throbbing in his tight grip. A new mechanism had just gone on the market from Fontaine, and with his savings he managed to buy it to try it out on an occasion he saw fit. Tears pricked your eyes as your body squirmed, hips lifting up trying to reach your high before the toy would stop moving—edging you in a maddening cycle. 

You cursed and whined, shifting your hips desperate for the feeling to return again until it finally did, at a much slower ministration this time. Cyno pumped his cock lazily, pressing down against the prominent veins that lined it.

“When I finally cum…I’ll let you as well. I see that as only fair right?” Cyno murmured, pressing a chaste kiss against your sweaty forehead. You give him a soft glare before the toy’s vibration raises once more, causing a loud moan to escape your lips. 

Cyno smiled, bucking his hips at the excitement of finally hearing your voice.

“Perhaps if you sounded like that last time when I pleaded with you, you wouldn’t be punished like this,” Cyno chuckled, pressing another kiss on their lips. Your voice raised octaves as the general grunted, shutting his eyes as his cock throbbed in pleasure.

“Cyno! Cyno!” you croaked out, as he bit his lips in responses. He didn’t know why your voice had such a spell on him, but here he was unraveling, cums of cum shooting out and resting on your stomach and chest.

He sighed, slightly ashamed of himself for giving in so quickly as he finally let the toy give you the high you’ve been so desperate for.

Cyno wrapped his arms around you, staring down at your tired form.

“You're a dick, you know that,” you muttered. Cyno chuckled before resting his head against yours.

“I’m just a man hopelessly in love with the way you call out your name. I’m not ashamed of that.”

[suguann]

PRETTIEST BABY—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦

✎. they can't help it, they're kind of obsessed with you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, thigh riding, slight food play, unprotected sex, mating press, spit play, object insertion, oral sex, threesome, spit roasting, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]

featuring. nanami, sukuna, choso, gojo & geto

an. dividers by @/hitobaby | masterlist

↬ NANAMI

You don’t hear him when he walks in, too busy dancing around his kitchen to a song playing on the radio in that short sundress that always makes his pants feel tight. But at the sound of him setting his keys and briefcase down on the counter, you turn and give him a pretty little smile.

“Hey, I just put the kids down for a nap.” You pop a dollop of cream into your mouth from the bowl you’re holding. “How was work?” 

Nanami can’t think straight enough to answer, too busy staring at your cheeks, how they suck in around your finger, and the sound of your hum when the sugar hits your tongue. The sound has him thinking about you humming like that around his cock, or wondering if you’d tease the purpling head the way you’re licking your finger.

He shouldn’t be thinking it at all—not when the babysitter should be here any minute to watch the boys.

But he can’t help it. 

When you pull your finger out of your mouth, you have just enough time to squeak before his hand is palming the back of your head, and his lips come crashing down against yours.

He groans into your mouth, his hands carding down your sides before finding purchase at your hips to bunch in the skirt of your dress. You release the most adorable gasp when he picks you up, carrying you across the kitchen to sit in one of the dining chairs; his hold keeps you from falling off his lap as your legs drop from behind his back to around his thighs clumsily.  

Nanami’s hands slide up from the swell of your hips until they cup your breasts, his thumb circling a nipple reverently.

“Prettiest tits,” he mumbles to himself.

You moan louder than you should with the kids right down the hall, your fingers flexing around his shoulders. “Oh!”

“Shh, honey,” he smiles faintly, pressing kisses against your open, panting mouth. “Don’t want to wake the kids.”

His thumbs brush against your nipples through your dress, his hands spanning almost the entire width of your rib cage. You shiver from how the fabric of your bralette and dress rub against sensitive, pebbling skin, creating an electric pulse with every pass that travels down to where you’re aching and empty.

You bury your face in his neck, rolling your hips over the hardness in his neatly pressed dress pants.

“Do you think you cum for me like this, sweetheart?” His lips move along your jaw, a distraction that makes your head fuzzy. But you still hear him, and your thighs clench around him in anticipation—a delicious sort of ache tingling up your spine with a subtle thrust of his hips against yours.

“I—ah—don’t think—not like this.”

“I think you can,” he coos, nosing at your neck, pressing another kiss there. “Come on, be a good little wife and cum for me.”

Oh, god. You’re going to cum from this—maybe from the filth dripping from your husband’s tongue alone. 

Your thighs are slippery. You can feel it every time Nanami helps you roll your hips against him, and a sticky-hot heat swirls in your abdomen, moving all the way down to your curling toes. Your heart stutters in your chest to keep up with your rapid puffs of breath into his mouth. 

You’re going to…You’re really going to—

His fingers twist your nipple, and like a switch, your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and you’re shaking in his lap. Nanami helps you move against him to ease you through it, whispering tiny indiscernible praises through the fog of syrupy bliss.

“So good for me.” You hear a zipper coming undone as your head slowly clears. “You can be good for me a little longer, and try to give me another, okay?”

↬ SUKUNA

He asks you to stay the night after he gets home late from a busy day at the gym—his clothes rumpled and hair sticking every which way. You get a little flustered at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as the stupidly attractive father to the kid you babysit, and you try to politely decline by saying, “I shouldn’t.”

“I can’t let you walk home in the dark,” he says, sounding just a tad tired as he heats up leftovers in the microwave. “Plus, Hana was disappointed when she found out you leave every night.”

“Really?” Hesitant, safe.

A little grin spreads across his face, making your breath stutter in your chest. “Yeah. Imagine how excited she’ll be when she finds you here in the morning.”

You bite your lip, already thinking about it. She is a sweet kid…

“If it’s…If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Cross my heart,” he tells you.

It’s surreal to think saying yes leads to him fucking you into his super soft king-sized mattress an hour later—you and Sukuna were never supposed to be a sweet mix of limbs and hot pants into each other’s mouths, and yet, here you are. If you’d known this would happen from wearing his clothes, you would have done it months ago.

He has two thick fingers pressed against your tongue to muffle your moans, the way you slightly gag around them sounding so much louder in your ears than the noises he’s trying to keep quiet. Your cunt feels swollen and sensitive just from him notching the head of his cock inside, only aided by the rough swipe of his thumb against your clit.

It’s already the most you’ve ever let any man do—no condom, nothing but slick skin—reasonable, responsible words turning to smoke with another inch inside you. 

“Look at you,” he groans, a large hand covering the small impression of his dick pressing up against your belly. “So fucking tiny, I hardly fit.” 

But he does fit, slipping in the last half inch, his thighs touching the back of yours, his fingers sliding a little deeper down your throat. The sudden need to get air into your lungs distracts you from the uncomfortable stretch between your thighs.

“Fuck, baby. Took me—ah—took me like a champ.” His breathing is labored, his voice rough. “How about a little more, okay?”

All you can do is nod, teary-eyed, whimpering. 

When his fingers leave your mouth to palm the back of your thighs, you can’t control the too-loud whine that escapes your raw throat—high-pitched and surely reaching beyond his bedroom door. His shoulders press your legs further into your chest, making you feel smaller than you already are underneath his broad shoulders, and he brings his hand back up to your mouth to cover the moans you can’t hold in.

“Be quiet—so fucking tight, needed this—and let me fuck this toy cunt.”

↬ CHOSO

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” you tell the little boy, trying to make his way from the back steps to you sitting in the grass.

Choso watches from the porch, sucking on a lollipop as you play in the yard with his son. You hadn’t expected him to come home for a few more hours, and it’s hard not to look over at him, your cheeks hot from the amount of attention on you. 

Neither of you spends much time together outside of a few pleasantries before and after work, asking about each other's day, him asking if Yuji was good for you—he always is—before you go home.

Then, one drunken night, you’d ruined everything by accidentally sending a nude to him (your boss, no less). Now, he hardly says a word to you; no, you leave in a rush—hair in your face, coat hanging off an arm—before he can open his mouth.

But Choso coming home right around Yuji’s naptime (he’s never home this early) is about to change that.

“So,” you start to say after setting the baby monitor down and curling up on the couch, “have you gone to that new Thai place down the street?”

“It’s down the street. Of course, I have.” He crosses the room, almost looking like a predator with the way he stalks towards you.

“Oh—”

In a matter of seconds, Choso easily has you pinned underneath him like a butterfly, the skirt of your dress pooling up around your waist. Your head spins from the proximity, chest heaving when he moves down, down—-

He lays on his stomach between your legs, carefully wrenching your soaked panties to the side to expose your cunt. Drenched and vulnerable on his couch, your thighs tremble as he parts your folds with his thumbs to reveal the wet, clenching part of you that’s suddenly desperate for his touch.

“You’re messy down here,” he hums, popping his sucker out of his mouth to spit against your folds. “Drippy.”

The melted red sugary confection drips from his mouth onto your clit before ducking his head to swipe his tongue through your slit, slurping up the mess he made.

“Choso—oh!”

Your hands fly to his hair, messing up the bun he has it in, and he groans into your cunt. It makes the muscles in your stomach jump, and you tip your head back against the arm of the couch. The noises he pulls from your throat are embarrassing, whimpers and moans that make you sound as desperate as you feel.

“Knew you’d taste sweet ever since you sent that picture of this pretty pussy.”

Another cry flies from your lips when he pushes the sucker inside you, and one of your hands comes up to cover your mouth, trying not to wake the baby—you don’t want this to end before it’s even really started.

“You look so cute spread out like this, letting me play with you like you’re mine.”

Then he suctions his soft lips over your clit, and your vision goes white.

↬ GOJO & GETO

You hadn't meant to interrupt your husband while he was in a meeting with Gojo. But it’d been important at the time—a reminder of an upcoming appointment that he forgot to mark on the calendar. Your daughter needed it for school. 

Now you’re wondering if it could have waited—and at the same time, you’re glad you didn’t.

"Look at you, taking cock like a bitch in heat," Geto sneers down at you where you're sprawled out against the expensive leather couch in his office, mean fingers roughly tweaking your sensitive nipples raw through your sheer bra. "Couldn't wait for me to come home, huh?”

You whine around Gojo’s cock that’s currently stealing the air from your chest, his grip tight in your hair to keep you from pulling away. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, a grin on his lips. “Didn’t think your wife would be a good little cocksucker?”

You’re tacky-wet and sticky between your legs, staining Geto’s expensive pants, creating a large dark spot on the fabric below where his hips kiss the back of yours with every harsh thrust into you.

A distressed mewl leaves your lips when he reaches down to thumb at your clit. "Please," your voice cracks, garbled consonants, and vowels barely making sense on your tongue—overstimulated tears leaking past your hairline and onto the cushion under you.

“Shit, baby—” Gojo groans, practically fucking your face—a stark contrast from how Geto steadily presses in you. It makes you dizzy. “You keep whining like that, and you’re going to make me cum.”

Sweaty strands of hair cling to your temples as you writh underneath the two imposing men determined to ruin you. You feel like an exposed nerve—a tender bruise before it blooms—desperately chasing a release just out of your reach because Geto refuses to give it to you.

You don't stop yourself from bringing your fingers down to where he sinks into your slippery heat, hoping he'd just give in and fuck you how you want.

He scoffs but doesn't push your hand away. "Did I say you could touch my cock?"

You try moaning a response, only to have Gojo’s hips stutter into your mouth, a guttural sound releasing from his throat.

"But you're a slut for my cock, aren't you? Can't keep your—fuck—hands off it." You don't even answer, can't when the feeling of sticky ropes of cum paint your throat, making all the words stick to the back of your tongue—your mouth quivering as you remember to inhale through your nose.

Geto’s resolve slowly crumbles when you clench around his cock, his hips needily pressing into yours with a grunt. "Shit, princess, just like that. My messy, drooling slut."

Just when Gojo slips from your mouth, Geto starts pounding into you, making you squeal hoarsely and arch up into his firm chest. "Aah, yes! F-feels good!"

He brings the wide pad of his thumb up to your hot cheeks and wipes away the fresh set of tears collecting along your lash line. "C'mon, baby. Stop your crying and cum. Milk my cock with this greedy pussy of yours."

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !

“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.

“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”

he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.

“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.

“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.

“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.

you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.

his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”

you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.

“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.

you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.

you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.

“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“

“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.

“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”

“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.

“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.

“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”

gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.

you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.

“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.

you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.

“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[tonycries]

A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

Synopsis. Smile for the camera - as best you can when you’re being absolutely wrecked in all sorts of ways underneath them anyway!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exhibitionism (Toji’s), mutual másturbation, phone séx, créampie, oral (female + male receiving), vibrators, bóudoir, manhandling, marking, Gojo is a menace, fíngering, dp, face-sitting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 3.8k

A/N. Was gonna add Sukuna but I feel like he’d hate modern technology.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The internet sensation

“Whaddaya say, you horny fuckers? Think she deserves to cum?”

Now, Toji Fushiguro is always one for extra cash. Who wasn’t, really? So when you approached him with a devious idea, well, how could he ever say no to his pretty girl?

He just didn’t think he’d be here - your bare legs splayed out on his lap, dripping cunt spread so shamefully, buzzing vibrator deafening over your pretty moans - all in front of that blinking camera. And the hundreds of thousands behind it.

“T-Toji, wan’ cum. Wanna cum so bad, please.” you mewl. Big, fat tears dripping down your cheeks at the way he’s been teasing you for so long now. You can barely make out the rush of comments flashing across the screen.

The camera captures everything so sinfully well. The way your cunt is completely soaked, clenching desperately around nothing as Toji slides the vibrator along your swollen folds. Circling your needy hole, just grazing your swollen clit. Teasing them just as much as you. 

Pathetic fuckers, he thinks, but entertains their desperate comments anyway.

“Hmm, they’re saying I should let you cum, pretty.” he whispers in your ear, low and hoarse with need. “Saying I should be ‘nice.’” 

He brings the vibrator - now glistening with your slick - to his lips. Licking a long, languid stripe up it, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue. Turning it ever-so-slightly towards the camera to show off what the fuckers behind it will never get, he hums dangerously, “What do you think, my girl?”

You gasp out a sob, uselessly trying to buck your hips toward where you needed him the most. “Please, Toji. Wanna cum, I’ll do anything.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, spreading your legs open even further with a feral groan. 

In one, fluid motion, he buries the vibrator deep in your dripping cunt, relishing the surprised yelp that leaves your swollen lips. “Then show ‘em how much you like it, pretty. How much you love me not being ‘nice.’”

And that’s all that is said before he’s fucking you into you at an urgent, sinful pace. Pulling out all the way till the buzzing tip just circles your swollen folds, ramming into you with no care or concern for the burning stretch. Toji knew you liked it - besides, it was half the size of him anyway.

“C’mon, smile for the camera, pretty.” he grunts into your ear, “Tell ‘em how I make m’girl feel.” 

You can barely choke out, “Ah! Oh- shit. S’good. Hngh-”

Blood rushes straight to his cock at the way you were taking it like such a good girl. Head lolling against his muscled shoulder as Toji pushes the vibrator in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Who makes you feel this good?”

Angling it just right to expertly hit against that one spot he knew would have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Ngh- Ah! You!” you whine, thighs quivering at both the burn of being so spread open and the electricity coursing through your veins at Toji’s relentless pace. Mind spinning, vision blurring, you barely register the hand snaking its way down down down.

A harsh thumb pressing down hard on your throbbing clit. “Wha- Toji hah-” you squeal as he starts drawing slow, tight little circles on it. Lazy and languid where he was fucking into you mercilessly like you were his lil’ toy right below. 

“Tha’s right, my girl. Say it for all those lonely little fuckers behind the camera to hear.” He doesn’t stop thrusting the vibrator into you, instead speeding up his movements impossibly at the lewd squelches filling the heady air.

“You. No one- else- hngh-” you moan softly hips bucking up in tandem with his hand. “M’gonna- Ah ngh- m’gonna-”

“Say my name, pretty.”

“T-Toji! Hah-” you squeal deliriously, cumming desperately around the buzzing vibrator. Walls clenching as he continues to fuck you through it. A smug little smirk on his face as he watches the way your eyes flutter closed, body bowing jerkily into his. 

Ah, you look so pretty like this. Those losers behind the screen were probably at the gates of heaven already. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you barely hear the low murmur from above you. “Now, you horny fuckers. Think her pretty hole can take my cock at the same time?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The secret album

Geto Suguru doesn’t let anyone touch his phone - especially his photo gallery. Always turning off the screen from prying eyes, pocketing it safely before flashing an innocent grin. 

But why? That one time Shoko stole his phone while he was in the bathroom revealed only a few blurry, aesthetic shots of you, the sky, and you. So what did that man have to hide?

Well, what she didn’t know is had she scrolled down just a bit more - before Geto ripped the phone from her hands - she’d have come across the treasure trove named with a simple “Love.”

Not one, not even tens - but hundreds upon hundreds of videos of you all falling apart underneath him.

Most of them favorited, all of them sorted so meticulously according to his tastes in a way that showed he spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. But it wasn’t enough to capture your perfection. It never was. 

Which is probably why Geto had you sitting prettily on his face, juices spreading so lewdly across his mouth as he tonguefucked you into insanity. 

The video was shaky, focusing in and out of the way your bruised lips dropped into a soft oh! as he bullies past your swollen folds. 

It zooms in on the dazed expression on your face, eyes miles away. “Oh, Suguru. M-more” your broken moans crackle through the speaker. Just barely capturing the soft ah! ah! ah! escaping your lips each time Geto’s tongue dips into your sloppy hole. 

Oh, this video was definitely going in his favorites.

“Take the phone, love. Show the camera how good I make you feel.” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, words hoarse with desire. 

And Geto might love you on film - but this was your favorite part. When the camera flips and you see him in all his disheveled, sinful glory. “Ah- y’look so pretty under me, Sugu.”

Dark hair splayed out on the pillow, stray strands sticking to his forehead as he looks at you with hazy, pussy-drunk eyes. His ringed fingers holding your thighs apart in a bruising grip. Lips glossy and swollen as they continue their abuse on your ravaged pussy. 

Flattening his tongue along your swollen folds, sliding teasingly between them. Your slick glistens in the dim lighting, dripping down down down the lower half of his face. 

And Geto, well, looks like he’s absolutely in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks at his girl’s pretty cunt, tipping his head back further just to let your sweet juices slide down his throat. 

You’re so focused on how pretty he looks that you almost miss the long fingers deftly snaking their way along your thigh. Spreading your swollen folds apart with his thumbs, he whispers raspily, “Shit. No video in the world can capture how pretty you look like this, love.”

The pure look of admiration has the camera shaking, and you sputtering out, “Wha- Suguru what nonsense-”

“Shhh, my girl. Lemme take care of it.”

And with that he’s sinking knuckle-deep into your pussy, while his ruby lips wrapping around your swollen clit. Zooming in desperately on the way he rolls his tongue harshly along it, sucking so sensually. Like a man starved. 

“Ah- hngh, Sugu. Feel s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers inside you. God, you don’t know how you don’t drop the phone at this point, white-hot jolts of pleasure running up your spine from where Geto was making out so sloppily with your cunt. 

Tears sting your eyes as he curls his fingers just right to brush against that one spot that has you bucking into his mouth for more more more- Hitting it over and over-

Fingers tangling in his silky hair, the video grainy with movement as you use it as leverage to grind deeper into Geto’s face. Chasing your high with an almost-embarrassing neediness. Close. So close. 

A muffled, “Cum f’me, love. Cum for the camera.”

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Geto’s hungry gaze searing into your brain - and the video - as you chase peak after peak on his pretty face, grinding down desperately. Your vision is hazy, head spinning. 

But Geto’s is decidedly not as he quickly skims through the obscene video, lips still attached with yours. 

Ah, damn these cameras. No matter how high quality, he could never quite capture the delicate trail of drool decorating the corner of your lips. Or the exact pattern of the neat crescents that your nails leave on his chest. 

They could ever quite capture the perfection that was you.

But it’s fine. 

That’s what multiple takes are for, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The photographer

Nanami Kento wasn’t into photography - which didn’t quite explain the tripod and hefty camera set sitting in the corner of his office. 

No, he was more into absolutely fucking ruining you in front of the camera just to capture a semblance of how heavenly you look for him. Which, well, explains the countless framed photographs decorating the walls of his often-locked office. Nothing extremely explicit - but enough to make a stray onlooker blush and look away.

And well, how could you say no? Especially when he had you bent over his desk, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds, camera aimed right at the way you lean into his cock. 

Cold tabletop digging into your skin, his fingers warm on your pulsing clit. Drawing tight, methodical little circles. So like him.  

“C’mon, darling. Arch your back more f’me like a good girl.” he murmurs lowly, breath hot against your ear.

As if on autopilot, you press further into his swollen cock. Sliding it deftly between your folds, just aching for any bit of friction. “K-Kento, please-.” you babble, delirious from him and his piercing gaze and him. 

“Mhm, spread your legs more f’me. Yeah, jus’ like that, darling.” he mutters, voice steady with the audacity of someone that wasn’t grinding his rock-hard cock into your dripping cunt. Hips moving in shallow, mindless little motions despite himself. Yet, holding back so agonizingly. 

So, you take matters into your own hands. 

Slowly, purposefully, you lift yourself higher, arching so desperately into Nanami’s throbbing cock. The soft little bump! bump! bump! of him pulsing against your walls a tempo that you were losing your sanity to. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed by how needy you were acting. “Kento! Wan’ you to fuck me alre-”

You don’t get to finish the sentence, because Nanami only takes a second to snap back his hips before pressing into your dripping cunt. The stretch of your walls absolutely addictive.

Click!

Ah, there was the perfect shot. 

All the blood rushes to Nanami’s cock at what showed on the screen - the exact moment that he split you apart on his cock. Your eyes wide, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, such an obscene mixture of shock and ecstacy painted across your face. 

His girl was so beautiful. Especially when she was stuffed full of his cock.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

One hand steady on the camera, the other pulls you deeper onto his cock as Nanami begins to move inside you. Pulling out all the way till his leaking tip is just circling your sloppy entrance - only to ram his length into you mercilessly. 

“My girl wanted to be full of my cock?” he hums darkly, “S’full she can barely even speak?” Hungry eyes devour the way your pretty pussy was milking him so greedily, barely even letting him pull out to fuck back into you harder than before.

“Ah! Yes- hah-” you breathe out, “”Wanted hngh- s’bad-”

He maps every curve and dip of the way you grind down onto his cock, taking in the obscenely heavenly sight of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy - and so does the camera. 

Click!

Another one - your eyes locked onto Nanami’s. Dripping cunt just barely in the frame as he continues ravaging you from behind. 

Back arched, such a sinful little expression on your face as you buck your hips wildly to meet his thrusts. As frantic as the hasty little movements of his thumb on your throbbing clit - not even circles anymore, just sloppy, sinful motions to get you off. 

“Hah- please Kento,”

Click! Click!

Oh, if Nanami had it his way these photos would decorate every hallway of this house. For everyone to see.

“Wanna- hngh- wanna cum, Kento.” you mewl, ass stinging from where Nanami’s toned pelvis smacked yours at a ceaseless, maddening cadence. Clit now ravaged from both his ruthless abuse and the heavy balls smacking against it with each thrust.

Click! Click! Click! 

“Then cum, darling.”

You see stars behind your eyes as you cum - or maybe that was the unforgiving camera. Capturing each and every detail of the way eyes, dazed and fucked-out, lock onto Nanami’s. Swollen lips dropping into such a pretty oh, Kento! Pushing yourself from the desk on shaky arms to arch so sinfully as Nanami goes over the edge as well. 

Camera shaky for the first time as he twitches inside you savagely, before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your quivering walls. Trickling down your legs so lewdly, pooling at the sterile floors below - a problem for later. 

Click!  Ah, another gem for his walls.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - The urgent calls

When Choso video calls you, you know never to answer in public. Why? Well… 

“Cho, what is- Oh.” Your words catch in your throat as you take in the absolutely sinful sight on your screen, cunt clenching in anticipation as you slowly bury deeper into your covers.

Legs spread on the bed, such a pretty blush dusting his face, throbbing erection leaking furiously on his toned abs - your boyfriend was an absolute vision. 

“Baby…” he whines, sending a jolt of pleasure right down to your cunt. “Was missin’ you today.”

Ah, you can’t help but tease him a bit. Raising a brow, “Oh really?” 

Despite his absolutely ravaged state, Choso finds it in himself to scoff, “M’serious. Jus’ thinking about that slutty pink bra you had on today. How much better it would look on my bedroom floor.” 

A large hand makes its way on screen, deftly snaking down his milky skin - down, down down all the way from his abs, resting just at the tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis. Waiting. Teasing. 

Now it was your turn to scoff, pussy twinging impatiently at the way he was so stubbornly waiting for you to break first. Well, two can play that game.

Unbuttoning your shirt slowly - so agonizingly slowly - revealing just a flash of that pink he wanted so bad. That rips a low groan out of Choso, precum smearing on his palm as he squeezes his swollen cock. Success. 

“C’mon now, baby, don’t tease. Be a good girl f’me.”

Batting your lashes mockingly, “You first.”

You always did know how to get what you want, huh? Because with an impatient little grunt, Choso spits a steady stream of saliva once, twice onto his furiously red cock. 

Your mouth waters as he grips the base tight, so achingly hard and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Precum leaking down his glistening veins, pooling at the heavy balls that twitch at the mere sound of your voice as you mutter, “Oh. You really did miss me.”

“Mhm, your turn.” he gets out through a low hiss, desperation bleeding through your speakers and into the heady air. Starting to pull on his cock in shallow, mindless little tugs - just the way you do it.

Finally relenting, you slip off your top, reaching for the clasp behind your when-

“Keep it on. Now spread your pretty legs for me, baby.”

Choso’s greedy eyes are locked on the screen as you flip the camera, showing off your already-soaked panties. Oh, you little minx. 

“Shit. You don’ know what you do to me, baby.” he groans, movements getting jerkier. Fist flying up and down his cock - just wishing his hands were yours. Ah, how yours would be softer, prettier, straining to cup his thick cock. “C’mon now, my girl. Show me you wan’ me just as much.”

God, Choso thinks he could cum right on the spot as you hastily remove your wet panties, delicate trails of slick connecting them to your pretty cunt as you slide it down your legs. Yet, he manages to find it in himself to grit out a low, “Touch yourself the way I would, baby.”

And, well, you don’t need to be told twice. 

Bullying your fingers through your swollen folds, thumb just grazing your throbbing clit. Purposefully teasing yourself - purposefully not giving in to what you craved so bad. No, you were too entranced with what was onscreen. 

With the way Choso was fucking his fist so desperately. Like he was trying to fuck something delicious out. Harder on the base, featherlight on his flushed head. Thumb teasing under the slit just the way you would.

“Shit- Oh, baby,” Choso groans, his hips bucking wildly as if he could somehow close the distance between you. His grip on his cock almost painful as he pounds into his hand. Ah, how you wish that was your hand instead.

Your fingers dip lower, rubbing your entrance. A thrill running through you at the way Choso’s eyes widen as you slide a finger inside yourself with a whine of his name. 

“Need you here with me, need to feel you around me,” you pant, rubbing against your clit in time with his fist, eyes locked on the way his throbbing cock twitches in his hands at the mere sound of your voice. Palm running up and down up and-

“Choso, just come here an’ fuck me already.”

You catch a glimpse of his eyes flickering closed, breath slowing, a satisfied smile curling his lips and then- thick spurts of cum covering his toned abs. Glistening so deliciously in the dim lighting as Choso strokes himself through his high. 

You on the other hand…

“Cho~ Can’t cum without you here.”  you hum coyly, slightly whiny yet not desperate - not yet.

“Get ready, baby. M’gonna be there in five.” Ah, how you loved when Choso video calls you.

♡ GOJO SATORU - The wallpaper fiend

Gojo Satoru loved to show off his wallpaper, babbling about his “beautiful girlfriend” as he flashed the picture to any and everyone he came across. 

It wasn’t anything strange, really - just a slightly blurry photo of the upper half of your head, eyes slightly scrunched like you were in the depths of laughter. It’s only when someone stares too hard, finger pressing just a bit too long that Gojo snatches back his phone with an unreadable little smirk. 

Because if they had they’d notice it was a live wallpaper. 

One that - despite being so proudly the great Gojo Satoru’s wallpaper - was for only his eyes to see. One where the camera shifts ever-so-slightly downwards to show you splayed out deliciously on your mattress, pale, sculpted thighs straddling your face - zooming in on the way your swollen lips bulge wraps so lewdly around his throbbing cock. 

“Oh, sweetheart, jus’ look at you.” his voice rumbles from above, voice hoarse with desire. “Taking my cock so well, huh?”

All he gets are muffled groans, tears glistening in your eyes as Gojo shoves his length deeper down your throat. He chuckles lightly, fucking into your hot mouth in small grinds of his hips, “Oh yeah, forgot you can’t speak sweetheart.”

Ah, what a smug bastard. And despite the dick lodged in your throat, you find it in yourself to stare up defiantly into his greedy gaze, moaning sinfully around him. That makes that confident facade crumble a little, the camera is shaky as Gojo lets out a broken little, “Sh-shit. You’re really asking for it.”

And maybe you were a mastermind - maybe you were an idiot. Because Gojo pulls his hips back till his leaking tip is just kissing your kiss-bitten lips. Smearing his precum around your glossy mouths. Only to slam back into you mercilessly, forcing you to relax your throat - because Gojo’s had enough of playing game

His searing grip on your scalp just out of the frame as he fucks into your mouth like his personal toy. Not stopping till your nose is pressed into the snowy white tufts of hair at his pelvis. 

Camera scrambling to capture the way your throat bulges so obscenely as he fills you up, starting to fuck into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. “Mmm, ngh. Fuck, sweetheart. Can feel me inside you right…” A large, veiny hand makes its way into the video as it wraps around your throat, squeezing. Tight. “...here.” Gojo rasps over your choked-up moans. 

Tears were streaming down your face now, nails digging desperately into the hand wrapped around your throat. But it seems Gojo had no care in the world for them. Because he coos mockingly, “Awww, don’ cry, sweetheart. Jus’ look at that slutty mouth of yours, sucking the fucking soul out of me.”

And as the screen grows grainier, the camerawork more shaky - Gojo’s hips grow more frantic. 

Cock hitting the back of your throat at a maddening cadence in a way he wishes the camera could pick up. Hand tightening around your throat as he fucks into you faster and deeper. Hip chasing the feeling of your tongue wrapped so deliciously around his throbbing cock. Delicately tracing the veins along the side, flicking his sensitive slit just the way you know he likes. Over and over-

The screen flashes white - or maybe that was just Gojo’s cum. Shooting thick, endless spurts of his seed that paint your pretty face white. And oh, this was his favorite part, how you take it so well. 

Your tongue darting out to catch the stream of cum that gushes out of him, pooling it on your tongue before letting it slide to the back of your throat. Eyes gazing up so eagerly into his as you stick your tongue out to show, well, nothing. Taking him up so greedily. 

And if Gojo was any less of a man, he’d be showing this off to everyone he knew. And in the end, before the wallpaper goes back to that seemingly innocent picture of your face - if he turned up the volume real high - Gojo could hear his voice in the background, breathing out through ragged gasps. “C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna make a few more wallpapers.”

A/N. LMAO this came to me when I thought about how Gojo is the type to have a polaroid of your tits behind his phone case. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader)

-

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves. 

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur. 

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches. 

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen. 

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste. 

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it. 

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break. 

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him. 

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids. 

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard. 

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse. 

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed. 

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold. 

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand. 

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh. 

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet. 

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off. 

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock. 

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires. 

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too. 

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though. 

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny. 

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

[nanaslutt]

The JJK men’s fav cuddling postitions <3

incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuuji, Yuta

cont: fluff :3, suggestive on Toji’s

note: i think this is my first full fluff fic…lol

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

I know Gojo absolutely loves every position he can get you both into where you are physically as close as possible. Gojo's infinity is on automatically most of the time, the only touch he receives being from his students occasionally or from you. So when the time comes around for Gojo to be cuddled up with you, he needs to make sure every part of his body is touching some part of you.

I can see him being a fan of face-to-face cuddling, your limbs intertwined with one another, either his or your face pressed into the other's chest, your soft breathing tickling the skin of the other. Maybe something like the 'attack of the sloth' sleeping position. You on your back, Gojo's arms and legs wrapped around yours, leaving you completely enabled, his weight crushing you when you sleep; but you never complain.. well.. sometimes you do, Gojo's body is like a furnace.

Sometimes though, Gojo wants you to spoon him from behind. Of course, he loves it the other way around but theres just something so comforting about your small frame wrapped around his back. He feels so safe in your arms like this. He gets the same feeling one would when they were a kid, afraid of what was lurking in the dark, but the moment they pulled the blanket over their head, they were safe. Gojo felt untouchable, even more so than when he had his infinity on.

Geto:

A classic man, a simple man, a man of taste. I can see Geto loving the pretzel position. Him lying on his back, his toned arm above his head while his other wraps around your frame resting against him. His leg closest to you is bent, enabling you to interlace your leg with his, the appendage thrown over his thigh. He relishes in the feeling of your arm wrapped around his midsection, feeling safe and secure when you tuck you curl your fingers into his t-shirt on the side of his body.

He loves this position because he loves how close to you he feels, he also likes to see the size difference between the two of you when you're scooted down, your head on his chest. Another plus is he can scratch your back gently this way. His hands always find their way under your shirt, gently tickling and scratching the skin of your back, shoulders, and waist. He adores hearing you hum softly into his chest in approval at the relaxing caress.

You love this position for a variety of reasons as well. With your head on his chest, directly placed over his heart, you have free, unlimited access to the soothing rhythm of his softly beating heart, never failing to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You yourself were also guilty of slipping your hand under his shirt to feel up his abs. Running your fingers over the strong indents, counting them carefully in your head over and over, was the same to you as counting sheep. His skin was always so soft and warm, how could you resist?

Nanami:

Nanami's go-to is having you lay fully atop him, your head on the center of his chest, your bodies resting against one another while he strokes your hair. softly running his hands along your head, raking his fingers on the back of your neck, massaging your head, the whole nine yards. Nanami doesn't stop until he hears you lightly snoring on top of him.

Another thing about Nanami--if you drool or snore in your sleep, Nanami thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You're always so embarrassed when you wake up and see the wet patch on his shirt after you had a particularly deep sleep, but Nanami finds it endearing; it means you felt safe with him, your body fully relaxing and letting go in his presence.

Another favorite is good ol' spooning. Nanami loves to be the big spoon. With both of your jobs as Jujutsu sourcerers, comes harrowing losses and injuries one cannot prevent, no matter how hard they try. So when Nanami gets the opportunity to completely encase your body in his strong, protective arms, it eases his nerves. He is constantly worrying about you, but in this moment he knows, nothing will touch you, nothing will get past his loving embrace.

This position gives Nanami unlimited access to the back of your neck. His lips instantly connecting with the soft skin, pressing soft kisses to the skin there, peppering down your shoulders, his fingers moving your nightshirt out of the way to touch your skin directly--god he loved kissing you. Your skin was so sweet and warm, how was he not supposed to kiss it? It was right in front of him after all.

Choso:

I have said this about Choso countless times, but he is a titty man.. so of course he's going to lay his head on top of your chest. He loves to feel the softness of your breasts agaisnt his cheek--if you have bigger breasts, you better bet he will lay face down and squish your tits around his face, holding his breath while he presses the fat against him, relishing in the feeling of your soft tits on his face.

His hands are without a doubt, on your chest as well. His large, warm hands engulf your tits in his grip, unconsciously feeling you up in his slumber, making you smile and laugh to yourself. He also loves wrapping his arms fully around your body too. The curse nuzzles his head against your chest while he slides his hands under the small of your back, his hands tickling the sides of your waist and back softly with the little mobility he has like this.

He has never felt love like this before, so when he feels your hands wrap around his back like it's the most natural thing in the world, it has his face heating up, a deep crimson blush spreading across his face while you rub his back, your nails raking over his back, over or under the thin material of his shirt. No matter how often the two of you cuddle together like this, he never fails to mumble how much he loves you into your chest, occasionally raising his head to look at you with a pout, still embarrassed even after all the time you spend together.

When you lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, your fingers caressing his cheek before he drops his head back down to your chest to welcome the embrace of your arms around his body, he swears he's the luckiest man in the world.

Sukuna:

Your wrists and ankles are bound in chains while you sleep at the feet of his throne completely naked. <3

Toji:

I can see Toji being a fan of the 'pretzel' as well, same as Suguru. He gets a little more handsy most times, the hand he has wrapped around your back will creep down to the waistline of your night shorts. His thick fingers slip underneath the waistband, sliding under the band of your underwear as well as he grips as handful of your ass, massaging the fat in his hand, squeezing and rubbing it with his fingers.

At first, he did it as a way to tease you, and it worked, you always lifted your head to give him a stern look while he continued to massage the skin. Over time though, It became a comfort thing for the both of you. Whenever you're tired but Toji isn't, he'll turn down the volume of the TV in your shared bedroom and let you get comfortable on his chest, your ear resting where his arm and torso meet. He slides his arm around your frame, smiling to himself when you nuzzle and cozy up to him, his hand sliding down your back, rubbing up and down a couple times while you get situated.

When you get yourself to your desired position, throwing your leg over his hip; which meets his hand as he grabs it and pulls you over his pelvis more, caressing the side of your thigh soothingly; he slides his fingers into your underwear and stares groping you, his warm hands bringing you instant comfort, and familiarity. He'll continue to absentmindedly feel you up while he watches his show, his eyes occasionally darting down to look at you with softness in his eyes before he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, drifting off soon after, leaving the TV running all night, as usual.

Megumi:

I imagine Megumi being super touchy with his significant other in private once he gets comfortable with you, but I still see him being a little awkward and shy about cuddling with you. It's so intimate after all. The two of you probably started with you lying on his chest with your hand resting on his tummy, you would have to make the first move because Megumi would rather die than initiate something like that at first, no matter how badly his body was itching to feel your warmth against him.

His body would go completely rigid when you laid on him out of nowhere. Megumi would hold his breath, not daring to move even in inches in fear you would move off of him. The weight of your head and your hand that was softly rubbing his tummy felt so comforting, although it did make goosebumps rise all over his body in shock. You would have to tip your head down to avoid him seeing your smile from hearing his heartbeat race out of his chest, the organ taking a significant amount of time before he gets used to your embrace, the rhythm slowing.

After a while of being together and countless cuddling sessions, I can see Megumi being more confident in initiating cuddle sessions when the two of you are watching TV or getting ready to go to sleep. His favorite positions are all of you cuddling him. You spooning him, him lying on your chest while his legs intertwine with yours--any position where your hands are wrapped around him and constantly caressing him in some way he is a huge fan of.

He also loves listening to your heartbeat. He didnt understand how you were always so calm, the soft lulling rhythm never failing to take him away to dreamland. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time you even smiled at him, but that was one of the things he loved about you--someone had to initiate the intimacy in the relationship and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him. If you weren't so forward, it probably would've taken him a year to even hold your hand on his own, so he was grateful you were more forward and verbal with what you wanted, because internally, he wanted the same as you, it just took a little coaxing to get him there.

Yuuij:

Yuuji has no preference! He loves each and every position, he just loves to cuddle with you. If he could always be touching you in some way, he would, and he sure as hell tries. You want to lay on his chest while he rubs your back? done. You want to spoon his large frame and wrap your leg over his waist while his fingers tickle your calf? done. Yuuji is ready for each and every cuddle position you propose to him, and he is not afraid in the slightest to initiate the cuddle sessions either.

I think Yuuji would find great joy in lifting your shirt up and crawling inside as much as his body could fit. His head resting on the soft skin of your tummy while your shirt blocks out most of the light emanating from the TV. "It feels like I'm a baby again." He would say, holding your hips in his hands on the outside of your shirt, his fingers tickling unconsciously along your sides, making you giggle.

I think Yuuji would really like coming home exhausted from training to sit in your lap and lay his head on your shoulder, his back arching slightly from the height difference between the two of you. He would hum into the crook of your neck while you stroked his back, raking your nails along him. He would smile to himself and close his eyes when you lift his shirt, scratching his warm skin directly while he falls asleep on your lap for a midday nap.

He was quite heavy and you're unable to breathe very well while he sleeps, but luckily he never naps long, and you do admit his weight crushing you felt weirdly nice, along with the ticklish puffs of his breath against your neck--it makes you feel close to him.

Yuta:

Yuta is a big baby. He handles enough in the Jujutsu world, trying to keep up his tough, strong persona while fighting, all he really wants when he comes to you is to relax completely in your embrace. Another man who loves it when you cuddle him from behind. He loves feeling your leg wrap over his waist, he knows he's not small, but he loves to feel like it sometimes, it's comforting.

One of his favorite positions to cuddle with you during the day is his head on your tummy/pelvis, his hands stroking along the length of your waist while you tangle your hands in his hair, running your nails over his sensitive scalp, down the back of his neck, reaching as much of his back as you can. It lulls him right to sleep, and he loves it. I think Yuta would struggle with falling asleep/sleeping through the night from insomnia, but when you're touching him, your warm embrace engulfing his body, he almost forgets about all the sleepless nights he spent without you by his side.

I can also see him loving to cuddle while facing you. Your head in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, and you likewise. Your legs tangled together, your bodies pressed as close as possible. During the summertime, this position is not the most comfortable because of the heat and the somehow awful AC Jujutsu high has. So during the colder months, the two of you constantly find yourselves in this position. He keeps his hand pressed snugly to the back of your neck, making sure your forehead stays pressed to his neck at all times.

[lovelyghst]

ghost has such a vast array of names he calls his sweetheart in bed, but the one that won’t leave my mind is porn star. just listen ok—

he doesn’t even mean it in a degrading way, whatsoever. teasing, maybe, but never outright cruel. he just loves admiring you and your aptitude; your willingness to break a sweat when you’re on top of him, your resilience when he asks you if you need a break and you shake your head fervidly because he hasn’t reached his peak yet.

he absolutely adores all the noises you make. the soft and dulcet hums in your throat when he’s making love to you, to the rapid huffs of air being pushed directly from your lungs when he grabs your hips and uses you like how you begged him to. god, and your expressions? your smile as you unbuckle his belt, and your giggles when he flips it around on you and sneaks a hand beneath your skirt. even when you’ve been fucked utterly dumb, you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. it’s all so erotic to him, like it belongs on film.

and so he eventually comes through to just that, taking out a camcorder that happened to be lying around; one that he definitely didn’t purchase for the exact purpose of filming a little sex-tape with you, certainly not ordering it online behind your back or anything.

you happily put on a little show for him, with the lively energy in your voice turning sensual and your exaggerated reactions that soon become all too real. the lens staring you down from above as he takes his time with you, cooing at you the tenderest of praises whilst breaking you down to a shuddering mess beneath him before he even gives you his cock. slowly massaging your aching pussy, past your hiked up dress and through your cotton panties, just to drag his hand up your body and have you suck on the very thumb that made the soaked spot on your underwear. he’s such a mean, mean tease.

he’s enamored with the way your cunt stretches to fit his cock, especially how it shows up on the small screen of the camera. each ridge dragging against your soft flesh wrapped so tightly around him, to the point where his breath is hitching in his throat and he’s failing to suppress those faint groans and swears spilling past his lips.

“makin’ all these depraved noises for me, and no shame you’re bein’ recorded? already fucked you that stupid, ‘ave i, sweet girl?”

you moan unabashedly at that, words that should be demeaning only hitting you right in the sweet spot. you can no longer keep your eyes on the lens above you, reaching out to grasp at the wrist connected to the fingers circling your raw pussy as you plead with your brows. you’re so overwhelmed, though enjoying it far too much to quit.

wrapping your legs around his back and pulling him in closer, eyes rolling back. swollen lips falling further agape and making him chuckle lowly. he goes on ramming his cock into the sticky mess of your cunt, thumbing your clit to push you over so that the last thing your fuzzy mind will hear is him calling you his favorite nickname:

“my pretty, little porn star… takin’ everything she’s given, ‘n with no complaint. just like a good actress does, right, baby?”

he spurs you on, grinning huge behind the camcorder he holds when you hum and nod along with whatever he says. you pull his free hand into your own, lacing your fingers with his; he always grounds you so well after he’s spun you higher than a ballerina. dazed and content, and simple happy to give him something to watch while he’s away. you never have to act when you’re with him, but you can’t help the butterflies swarming your tummy whenever he praises you for it.

“there’s my good fuckin’ girl… now smile for the camera, princess.”

[gojorgeous]

"business or pleasure?"

pairing: gojo x fem!reader summary: the gojo clan decides it’s time to secure an heir… and you’re the lucky woman selected for the job… content: HEAVY breeding, arranged marriage, language, praise, dacryphilia, p->v, fingering, mating press, a lil’ blood (if you squint), pet names, implied multiple rounds, gojo just generally being a menace, no established relationship, reader and gojo literally just met, reader is literally there for the purpose of getting pregnant, positive pregnancy test at the end, ideas of women as baby incubators :x, consent king gojo. wc: 3.7k a/n: I HAVE RETURNED!!! Hey!!!!!! Long time no see, babes. I was looking at my account and I haven’t posted a fic in *cough* TWO YEARS. There is simply no way that’s real �� Anyway, I’ve returned with something slightly different: A Gojo fic. You’re welcome. Mwah. Also, please send messages I miss y'all. happy new year bbs. and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

It’s only your third time in Japan. The first had been to visit family friends when you were eight, the second for a girls’ trip after you graduated college. You liked it. Tokyo was bright and busy and full of shops and things to do. The countryside always offered beauty and peace. But this third time was different. No shopping, no temples, no amusement parks. You were here for business, not pleasure. 

You run a finger along the edge of a mahogany bookshelf. Your feet are killing you, a flick of your ankles tossing your heels across the room. Your nose wrinkles when you land on a particular title. The Art of War? Interesting choice… You scan the other books, and your brows rise when you find a strange combination of academics, young adult, manga, and high fantasy? A multi-genre reader, then…

You absentmindedly rub at the arch of your foot, pushing out the ache as best you can. A day so full of stress has left you weary. Your mother hadn’t stopped hovering until the moment you’d escaped into your car, a new husband on your arm. 

You sigh. You could still hear the shower running along with said husband humming loudly to a tune you didn’t recognize. At least your groom wasn’t shy. 

A glance toward the bed has your brows raising. Were those… squishmallows? One looked like a shark, the other like a… sushi? You press your lips together, avoiding a laugh he would surely hear. You make your way to the mattress, sighing when you finally get to sit. You pull the sushi into your arms, hugging the pillow to your chest, but it no longer seemed so funny anymore. You had bigger things to think about. Your legs press together in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. All the way from America you’d come to marry the Gojo heir. It had been a rushed arrangement. Apparently, the Gojo clan had finally put their foot down and decided their heir should finally get to the business of making another heir. There’d been a search far and wide for the best match and somehow, they’d settled on you. An accomplished sorcerer yourself and abilities in your blood that only strengthened those of the Gojo line, you’d been an suitable pick. It didn’t hurt that you were young, healthy, and (upon a trip to a renowned fertility clinic) proven to be very fertile. 

Your parents had been oh-so eager to accept the Gojo clan’s proposition. The Gojo heir’s power hadn’t been matched in nearly 400 years. Any and every family would jump at the opportunity to be tied to them, especially through marriage and heirs. You were surprised you’d been chosen considering all of the options there must have been. 

Satoru seemed… fine, you thought. You hadn’t had much time to talk with him privately. The first time you’d met had been on a phone call with both of your sets of parents present and the next had been at the altar. At one point in the night he’d asked a waiter to refill your wine glass and he’d been a rather good dancer. Other than that, you’d been pulled apart at all odds and ends until you’d come back here: his apartment. 

You’d expected something a little more lavish for your wedding night, especially considering the spectacle that your wedding had been. Ice sculptures, thousand dollar bouquets, and diamond encrusted wedding rings had turned to an elegantly decorated bachelor pad. A glance around revealed a space that was obviously lived in, with odd mixes of $10,000 dollar chairs and… squishmallows.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, eyes peeling over the half-moons of your nails and the heavy gems that now sit on the fourth finger of your left hand. They are a weight you feel the pressure of. A pressure to live up to expectations, to produce a much-desired product. 

A door opens down the hall and you realize the pounding of water and the lilting of a hum has ceased. Your husband is done with his shower. 

A few seconds later he reveals himself, prancing down the hallway and into his bedroom like it’s just another Tuesday and not his wedding night. A plush blue towel is slung low around his waist and from the rivulets of water running all over his body you judge that he hadn’t even taken the time to properly dry off. Not that you mind.

You’d known your new husband was beautiful but you’d never imagined he’d be so… so goddamn seductive. 

Washboard abs, toned arms, sculpted back, wet hair and icy eyes… he was the image of a god. 

“Sorry for making you wait. I really needed that.” 

Gojo prods at his temples, eyes squished shut in what looked like a moment of pain. You’d heard of this problem from the clan. He hadn’t worn his blindfold all day for the sake of the wedding. It was no wonder the effects were catching up with him. 

“No problem.” 

A small smile reveals just a few blinding teeth and you could swear your vision went out for just a moment. 

“You hungry?” 

You arch a brow. The man had eaten two full plates and practically half the cake not yet an hour ago. 

“Can’t say that I am.” 

“Hm.” 

He nods and you watch as he plucks a stray candy off his bedside table, tossing the wrapper to the floor. 

“So, uh-” You watch the butterscotch bulge in his cheek. “You really wanna do this?” 

You glance at your half-naked husband who is practically a walking temptation. You take a breath. He’s standing so casually, as if this is a normal conversation to be having and not something life-altering.

“You don’t?” you ask.

All that gets you is a shit-eating grin. 

“Never said that.” 

You can’t help the smirk that crawls across your lips. 

“Well, we might as well get it over with, no?” 

Another flash of pearly whites. 

“Get it over with, hm?” 

You miss his meaning, pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread. 

“It shouldn’t take much effort. I’m on so many fertility meds you could probably spit on me and I’d get pregnant.” 

You pick at the thread a little more, biting your lip when you realize it’s one of those strands that’s infinite. 

“That so?” 

You jolt when a speck of wetness lands on your cheek. A quick glance reveals a fuzzy blue towel far too close for comfort. A half-naked Gojo is a whole lot closer than he’d been just seconds ago. How is he so quiet? 

Blue eyes bore into yours, water dripping down white strands and onto your skin. He’s so damn tall. He has your neck craned all the way back just to meet his gaze. 

“Yes.” You swallow. “It was part of our prenup.”

Dazed. You’re absolutely dazed. 

“Well, we probably shouldn’t risk breaking a legally binding contract, hm?” 

Closer. He’s coming closer. Too close. 

You lean back, scooting yourself up the bed in a feeble attempt to get a little more space, your emotional support sushi tumbling to the floor. He follows right after you. 

Something primal thrusts through your veins at the sight of a man, sopping wet and smirking, crawling after you, some mix of teasing and pure drive hidden in his eyes. Gojo doesn’t stop, not until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Close. Too close. 

You’d thought he would have dried a bit by now, but water still slicks off his skin and hair, showering you lightly. You shiver and your husband notices. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you get a breath of the sweetness of butterscotch and mint toothpaste. 

“You say stop,” he breathes, “and we stop.”

He leans closer, so close you can smell the eucalyptus and myrrh of his shampoo, the musk of his body wash, the candied sweetness of his breath. Those piercing blue eyes flit to your lips and back up again. 

A breath, a pause. 

“Stop?” he asks. His eyes are piercing.

You shake your head. 

“Go.” 

Lips, teeth, tongue. All of it hits you at once. For a moment you’re too shocked to respond, but then his weight is leaning on you and his hand is on your waist and his mouth tastes like candy and- and then you’re kissing him back. 

A heavy hand digs into the flesh of your waist and your hands find a patch of damp white hair to tangle in. 

He tastes good- too good and when a deft hand guides you down to the mattress you start to think that this whole baby-making business might not be so bad after all. 

Teeth knock, tongues touch, and you are on the edge of what would have been a particularly throaty moan when he pulls away. 

His attention shifts elsewhere, kisses trailing down your neck and hands straying to your hips.

“Have you-” a kiss to your collarbone. “Done this before?”

You freeze.

“What?” 

Gojo raises his head a bit and the most irritating kind of smirk plays on his lips. 

“Don’t know- thought maybe this was a virgin for your super rich husband kinda thing?” 

You shove his head back down.

“Shut up.”

He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your skin. 

“Okay, sp no need to go slow then…” 

His lips continue their assault, brushing and grazing over your skin until it lifts with goosebumps. Your breaths come a little faster, a little heavier and you gasp when his hand curls beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Oh? What’s this?” His fingers brush against the garter that rests at the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had you agreed to wear the damn thing? You reach down, hoping to quickly rid yourself of the scrap of fabric before you can become oven more mortified. You’re just about to clamp down on it when Gojo catches your wrist. “Ah, ah. No need to be so hasty.” Your hand is easily pinned down to the mattress and, for some reason, you don’t fight it. 

Your breath catches when your skirt lifts only for Gojo to dive beneath it without a second thought. You feel his teeth grazing across the skin of your thigh. 

“Gojo-” you breathe, squirming. 

His head reappears suddenly, another one of those mischievous grins gracing his lips. “Satoru when I’m about to be inside you, baby.” 

He disappears again and you gasp and wiggle when you feel his tongue laving across the inside of your thigh. 

His teeth graze you again, but this time they clamp down on the garter and you feel it slowly sliding across your skin, down, down, past your knee and eventually to your ankle where Satoru finally yanks it past your foot with a final tug. 

You stare at him, wide eyed and lustful. That had to have been one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. 

Satoru plucks the garter from his teeth and dangles it in front of his eyes. It’s a white, lacy little thing that matches the shade of his hair. He’s grinning again when he slides it onto his wrist like a bracelet– no, like a trophy.

“Thanks for the present.” He’s still grinning, still staring, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “How attached are you to this dress?” he asks. 

You blink, swallowing nervously, unable to break away from his gaze. It’s too strong, too mesmerizing. “Not… attached at all,” you manage. It’s true. Somebody else picked it out, and you’ve only been wearing it for about an hour– and it’s not like you can’t just buy a new one now with access to the Gojo bank accounts. 

His grin somehow grows even wider. “Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” 

There’s a splitting sound and suddenly your dress is tearing straight down the middle. It’s slow and controlled and you wonder if he’s practiced at this or if his strength is just that regulated. You find yourself hoping it’s the latter. 

The dress is ripped from your skin and you see it land somewhere across the room. You hear something shatter along with a thud, but Satoru seems anything but worried, so you ignore it. 

You’re bare in just your undergarments, a lacy white set that you’re now half proud of and half embarrassed by. 

Satoru whistles and his hands settle on your waist. “Damn, baby. Why’d you keep all this hidden for so long?” 

You scoff, your confidence surging. You reach for him, grabbing a scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, Toru.” 

The sound of the nickname on your lips makes him shiver and you smirk triumphantly.

“Hmm…” is all he says as his fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they’re dipping beneath the band of your panties. It’s somewhere between tortuous and ticklish and you squirm. “Ah, ah. Hold still for me, now.” He presses one hand to the valley between your breasts, holding you down as his other hand continues lower. When his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and presses down your back arches and your breath escapes. 

He chuckles. “Little needy, aren’t you?” His thumb moves a little higher, grazing your clit, and you whimper. 

With one deft movement he unclasps your bra, tossing it aside. You register for just a moment that your chest is now completely bare, but soon enough his mouth is closing around your nipple and all else is forgotten. 

“S-Satoru!” you whisper. Your voice feels hoarse, even if it has no reason to be. 

His thumb continues its assault between your thighs. “So wet already, baby…” He sounds ecstatic. The grin on his lips makes you whine. “Let’s get these out of the way…” Before you know it, you hear more tearing and then cold air hits your cunt. You cry out when Satoru’s thumb returns to its ministrations, but this time there’s no cloth barrier to dull the sensation. Your hands push out and your nails curl into his bare shoulders. You need him closer.

“Satoru…” you breathe. “Kiss me…” 

That shit-eating grin returns, but he follows your command. “As my wife wishes.” 

When lips meet yours it’s hot and messy. Your nails claw down his back and you’re sure you’re leaving marks. If he minds, he certainly doesn’t show it.

His thumb continues at your clit as a finger prods at your entrance. When he slides in slowly, you gasp. He murmurs something about you being so sensitive, and proceeds to quickly find that gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Before you know it he’s adding a second finger and soon your hips are rocking against his thrusts, meeting his pace as you chase your high. 

“God, you’re so wet.” he whispers against your lips. True to his word, he’s been kissing you, never letting up in his attack on your mouth. “Bet you taste like fucking heaven.”

You whine, your hips stuttering against his hand. “G-Gonna… I’m–” 

He grins again, and pulls away just enough to meet your gaze. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” Your eyes flutter shut, your head rolling back– “Nuh, uh. Keep those eyes open. Wanna see every second.” 

Your breaths flutter and you whimper loudly, the sound bouncing on the walls. You’re not sure why you listen, why you fight to keep your eyes open, locked on him, but you do. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll pull away and leave you wanting… or maybe you just want to please him.

You feel your muscles clenching in your stomach, hear the sloppy sounds of Satoru’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, see the gleeful anticipation in his eyes. His thumb rubs a particularly delicious circle around your clit and you feel yourself thrown over the edge. 

You can’t help but be loud. You hold his gaze the whole time, whimpering and whining his name as you gush all over his sheets. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching, holding him inside, desperate to be filled. You hear him panting above you, like watching has somehow taken his breath away. 

“Good girl,” he whispers and you feel a second wave of pleasure ripple through you. 

You feel weak by the time your orgasm leaves you. Your muscles are limp and your cunt is so sensitive that you flinch when Satoru removes his fingers. He brushes a tear from the corner of your eye and you watch as he brings his sopping fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices clean. He moans, a deep throaty sound, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. You watch his eyes roll back in his skull, watch his throat bob as he swallows. Your lips part at the sight. 

His fingers fall from his mouth with a pop and his grin returns.

“Just like I thought,” he says. “Heaven.” 

He’s back on you in a second, licking a stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. His hips slot between your own and a strong hands hook around the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. You whimper. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so completely and utterly exposed. 

“On to the main event, yeah?” The twinkle in his eye has your heart racing even faster. His fingers catch the towel that is somehow still wrapped snugly around his waist. With one tug, it’s gone and your mouth is watering in anticipation. 

Your jaw drops lower, if it’s even possible. He’s… huge. Long and pretty with veins that you know are going to rub just right. His tip is pink and leaking, ready. 

“Satoru, it won’t–” 

His lips connect to your pulse, licking and sucking when you feel him prodding at your entrance. “It’ll fit, baby.” 

He slides himself through your folds, gathering your juices and torturing you every time his tip bumps your clit. By the time he’s finally lining himself up, you’re practically begging. 

The first push is heaven. You’re both moaning when he prods past that first tight ring of muscle and you’re gasping, crying out his name and clawing at his back. He keeps pushing, filling you inch by inch until he’s pressed snugly against your cervix. You thank him aloud when he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim. He only kisses the tears from your cheeks. 

The first thrust has you seeing stars, little white spots clouding your vision. The second has your nails embedding in his skin hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it has him moving faster, grunting in your ear and whimpering your name.

“Sooo… f-ahh-ucking t-tight…” he whispers. 

A hand slides between your sweaty bodies, a thumb rubbing familiar circles against your swollen clit. You cry out, clenching down like a vice. 

“F-Fuck, princess.” 

His thrusts rock your body and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the air. You feel that familiar coil begin to form, to heat at your core. Your muscles tighten and your legs begin to shake. 

“Atta girl. Cum on my cock, baby.” 

You whimper at the praise, at the incessant rubbing of your clit, at the relentless pounding of your cervix. It’s all too much, too good. 

“Satoru…” you cry. Your legs burn and ache. Satoru has your knees pressed so tightly to your chest you’re afraid something might snap. It only adds to the tension beginning to unravel at your center. You feel as if you’re burning, as if you’re going to snap– and then you do. Heat unravels beneath your skin and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your legs tremble and your toes curl and you vaguely hear your husband whispering a mix of curses and praises in your ear. You’re still lost in the sensation when he starts groaning and you feel him flooding your insides with shallow thrusts close to your cervix, filling you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You’re still panting when you finally regain your mind. Satoru’s still on top of you, completely limp with his head buried in your neck. You curl a hand into his hair, silently holding him close. That was some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You smirk. Yeah, maybe this baby-making business wasn’t going to be so bad. 

You shiver when you feel Satoru licking and sucking at your skin. There’s a tenderness in the action that makes you pull him closer. He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but you can already feel him hardening inside you, ready for another round. 

“Think it stuck?” he asks. You smirk and answer with a breathy laugh. 

“Don’t know.” Silently, you think that there’s no way it didn’t. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs and there’s just so much of it.

He lifts his head, eyes bright and sparkling even in the dim light. He grins. “Guess we’d better make sure.” 

~

With the rate at which Satoru fucks you it’s no surprise when you get two positive little pink lines a few week later. You tell Satoru by unceremoniously dropping the test in front of him while he’s drinking his morning coffee. He only grins and kisses you before he bends you over the counter, whispering something about needing to show you how appreciative he is when he slides inside you. The next morning you wake to Satoru’s lips on yours, a brand new credit card, and a new car in the driveway, fitted with all of the newest safety features (only the best for his wife and baby, he says). You sigh and smile when you see it. Yeah, this whole baby-making business definitely wasn’t so bad.

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[izukuszn]

“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin. 

“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder. 

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” 

“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half-breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin. 

“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims that he wants to fully see you as best as he can. 

Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last? 

“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child. 

He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?” 

You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers. 

“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”

“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.

He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again. 

“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.” 

You sigh, “Will you now?”

You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go. 

“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”

You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.  

“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!” 

He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you that I think you’re beautiful.” 

[ohbother2]

Lucifer x f!reader - Forced Proximity

PART II

PART I

This was supposed to come out at the weekend, but holy shit the previous part already has 1k likes so here you go a few days early.

This is just smut, no plot, you've been warned. Minors DNI.

Btw I'd love to hear your feedback! I'm not very experienced at this type of writing, so I'd love to know what you think!

(Srsly, thank you guys for the amount of love on the previous part, don't think I've ever had a piece of writing be so popular)

Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

--

"You know," You complain, letting him guide your face back down towards him, you prop your weight on your hands either side of his head, not allowing him to pull you into another kiss quite so soon. "you could've let him leave the door open. I'd quite like to be able to see you."

His free hand slides down from its place against your shoulder blade, and he hums contemplatively as it slowly trails down your spine, finally resting on your hip. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks as though he's struggling to focus.

"You can look at me later." He tries to crane his neck upward, but you're determined and turn your head slightly, his lips only finding the corner of your mouth. He groans in frustration.

Realising you weren't going to kiss him any time soon, he presses his lips against the side of your throat, giggling into your skin when you gasp in surprise. He doesn't stop though, and you feel his fangs graze against your jugular teasingly.

"Are you not uncomfortable?" Both of his hands are now on your thighs, rocking you gently.

"God, no." He mumbles against your throat, too distracted with covering the areas of sparse unblemished skin he had glimpsed when the cupboard had been opened. "I'm very happy here."

"We could've gone somewhere with more room." Your eyes close, sinking into his touch as he peppers kisses along your collarbone. You start moving your hips lightly to join his movements. He exhales deeply, one palm pressing against the small of your back to press you down onto him.

"And where would we be?" His voice is quiet, husky, and muffled against your shoulder. The question was non-commital, not expecting you to answer.

"Your desk."

He inhales sharply and his claws dig into your thighs painfully, you feel him stop breathing beneath you. His lips detach from your neck and when you glance down his wide eyes are staring straight at you, suddenly far more alert.

"Y-You," His voice audibly cracks, mind reeling at the images that assaulted him. Images that he had been burying for the past several years. He almost feels sad; he definitely should've made a move sooner. You smile at how strained he is, voice an octave higher than it should've been. His trousers were suddenly painfully tight. "should stop talking."

"Flustered?" You hum cheekily, a hand resting against the side of his face, fingers carding through his disheveled locks as you lean impossibly closer, teasing him with a kiss. His head tilts with your hand hopelessly, and you watch his eyes flutter. Your lips graze against his own and a high-pitched pathetic little sound catches in his throat. Your lips ghost away from his own, across his cheek, and finally press firmly against the crook of his jaw.

"No." He breathes deeply, but his composure falters again when one of your hands slithers between your bodies, tugging gently at his belt. He was a bad liar. "But you keep talking like that-" He gasps, high and airy, as you slowly pull the zipper down his front, fingers grazing generously at the tent in his boxers. "and this'll end before it even begins." His voice pitches and warbles when you lick a line up from the hickey you had been leaving at the juncture between his throat and shoulder.

Your hand rests teasingly against his waistband, a finger slipping just below the hem and pulling playfully. He whines, a hand gripping your hair and pulling your face up to meet him. "Please," He gasps as another one of your fingers teases at the band of his boxers. You can feel his knees spread behind you, allowing room for you to press against his upper thighs. "kiss me."

He was staring at you desperately, the hand in your hair beckoning you closer, but not forcing. Oh how you wished you could see his expression, and you wanted to punish him for not allowing the door to remain open. You catch a glimpse of his furrowed brows, barely visible in the dim light that emanated from his big eyes, and you bite your lip thoughtfully.

"Sweetheart, I'll beg if you want." You didn't doubt it, leaving your fingers pressing against his quivering stomach.

"Next time," You instruct, and you can see the way his eyes flash red at the prospect before settling back to their amber hue. "I choose where, even if that means you have to wait."

"Anything." The word is half whispered, half mumbled against your lips as you finally lean down. He doesn't waste any time, hand gripping your hair tight and forcing you closer, guiding your head to tilt to the side and forcing your lips to open. His tongue snakes its way back into your mouth, and you have to grip his hair for stability, barely able to reciprocate the bruising force of the kiss, never mind keep up. He groans again at your fingers against his scalp, he hums something incoherent, and you're only allowed a second to gasp for breath before he's pulling you in again.

You were too distracted to notice the way his free hand slithered down your body, gracefully unbuttoning and unzipping your trousers. You were even too distracted to notice the way his fingers had pulled at your underwear, but you do notice when a cool finger presses exactly where you needed it to. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel his lips smile as he rubs a small tight circle over your bundle of nerves. "Luci." You whimper as he pulls back for a breath, your damp foreheads pressed together as you try and steady your heart. He pulls you back into a kiss, muffling a whimper when two of his fingers push deeper, gliding easily against your wet folds, pressing against your entrance as his palm rubs against your clit.

"This wet already for me?" He tries to sound seductive, but the breathlessness of his chest and panting of his breath betrays him. "I've barely touched you, love." A fingertip presses in lightly, and your legs spread wider invitingly, but he pulls back to circle two fingers against your peak. He swallows your whine with another breathless kiss.

You writhe on top of him, and his hips jerk involuntarily when you plead his name against his lips. One finger finally breaches your entrance, sliding in easily, and you rut against his hand to speed up the agonisingly slow pace he was taking.

Lucifer had been playing along, grinning against your lips and flexing his fingers enticingly, showing you what he could do but not quite giving you a pace that would accomplish anything. He glides a second up alongside his first finger, and his own moan catches in his throat at the way you tighten around him. You mewl at the pleasurable stretch. Truthfully, he had been thinking ever since you had made your comment about his desk, and the many ideas he had come up with on his own whilst sat there pining after you. He had an idea. He wasn't going to let you interrupt this plan.

His fingers suddenly pull away, leaving you empty and confused, chest heaving as you sit up, staring down at him.

"Off." He pats at your thighs, tugging at your trousers and shimmying them as far as they would go. The smile in his voice was palpable, but you didn't question his sudden giddiness, lifting your hips to help him. It was a little awkward with the small space you both had, but you eventually wiggle free of the tight garment, underwear following in a heap in the corner.

You sit back against him, completely bare on your lower half whilst your top still bunched around your elbows. You lower yourself all the way, folds pressing against the tent in his boxers and grinning wickedly. He doesn't react as you'd hoped though, staring up at you with large shining eyes, admiration in their depths, as well as something else you couldn't quite distinguish, something a little more, mischievous.

Without warning he thrusts his hips up, and you nearly crash into his chest at the sudden forceful jerk. His hands grasp your bare ass firmly, claws digging into the supple flesh. You're so impossibly close to his face you can just make out the grin adorning his features.

"What are you-" You go to sit back against his hips, but his hands stop you, forcing you up instead of down. His own breathing had picked up in anticipation. You hover above him, not sure what he wanted you to do.

"Come on, sweetheart." The words slip from his lips fast and energetic, and his strong arms pull you higher up his torso, now hovering above his sternum. "I promise it'll be worth it."

"Wha-" Realisation hits you like a freight train and your breath leaves you horribly quickly. You had never done this before, and you most definitely had never had someone excitedly trying to yank you up their body. "Luci- I-I don't-"

"Please?" He pleads, and you twitch when he turns his head to place a quick peck against the inside of your knee.

"You want to-?

He doesn't even let you finish. "Yes." His hands tug you closer, inch by inch, and you tentatively let yourself be risen. "I wasn't lying earlier; would've been on my knees for hours."

The way his voice had taken on a whiny pitch had you clenching around nothing in particular, struggling to believe such a powerful man was here, on his back, desperately trying to persuade you to- to- you couldn't fathom it.

"I've never done this before." You hesitate, your nerves growing in the pit of your stomach as you stare down at his bright eyes. If you could see anything in this darkness, you'd see his ear-splitting grin and the way his tongue flicked against his lips as he positioned you. You'd also notice the way his cheeks and chest had flushed feverishly once he had realised you were actually going to let him do this. Instead, you focussed unwaveringly on his bright eyes, which constantly flicked between your face and the growing heat between your thighs.

Something in his chest jumps, knowing he'd be the first to do this to you. His mounting resolve had just solidified, you were most definitely not getting out of this now. You hover direction above him and he places a clawed hand on either of your thighs, gently coaxing you down.

"Perfect," Some of his cocky self had come back now that he was finally getting what he wanted, and his hot breath fans across your thighs as you slowly lower down, your hands grasping the shelves above your head to stabilise yourself. "just let me take care of you."

You pause your decent when you feel his hair ticking at your thighs, and he takes the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. You gasp, fingers clenching around the shelf above you, as he sucks your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. He hums, slowly licking and kissing his way towards your core. He presses a delicate kiss against your heat, and you automatically lurch upwards, but his grip around your thighs prevents you from moving at all.

You breathe deeply, and his eyes connect with yours, gently but forcefully pulling you closer.

"it's okay, sit."

You comply, albeit hesitantly, worrying for his head when he pulls you closer, your thighs flush against either side of his rosy face. You stare down at him, wide-eyed, as he stares back. Without warning another kiss presses against your folds, and you jerk again, but he had been anticipating it and his hands flex against you, rooting you in your spot and digging deliciously into the flesh of your upper thighs and hips. He kisses again, and again, each one lengthening and growing more sloppy. You pant above him and he watches your expression gleefully, finally suckling your little bud into his mouth. You jerk as he presses his forked tongue against your most sensitive spot, and a moan heaves from your chest when he grazes his teeth against you, lavishing that one particular spot with unfaltering enthusiasm.

Just as you begin to whine, hips twitching at the ministrations, he shifts lower, long tongue lolling from his mouth and licking a decisive stripe up against your entire length, parting your folds and gathering your juices on his tongue. You moan his name sinfully, and he whines, hips raising against nothing as his tongue finally delves its way into you, slithering inside your walls and licking up into your heat. You gasp in surprise: his tongue was long, sinfully so, and its forked edge delved deep as he explored.

His claws grip you tighter as you shift around, pinning your hips in place as his tongue presses against that special spot inside of you. You whine, and you can feel his teeth press against your opening as he grins, a mumbled "found it" lost against your damp flesh, tongue licking harder against that spot. His eyes close completely, brows furrowing as he concentrates, sinking into the floor and making sure to drag your hips down with him.

"Oh- Luci-" You gasp, fingers tightening against the shelf as he withdraws his tongue, sucking your clit back into his mouth like a man starved. He uses his forearms to make sure your hips stay down, hands coming to grasp the insides of your thighs and forcing them to stay apart as they threatened to twitch close. He hums against you, and the sounds of his lips against your core is downright sinful; you spread your thighs further and he groans when he realises he can reach more of you with his mouth.

"Yes, hngh, yes-" You moan, hips beginning to grind down to meet his tongue. "There-!"

"mhm" He hums in acknowledgement beneath you, grasp tightening on your thighs as he abuses your clit. His own chest was heaving as he worked, and his forehead creased as he concentrates, swirling his tongue in circles and sucking just the right amount before it became painful.

He cracks one eye open, suddenly incredibly aware of the lack of your hands against him, and he follows your twisting torso up, frowning at seeing you grip the shelving unit above his head. He doesn't stop, tongue continuing to lick its fiery trail against you, and his eye closes again as he lifts his hands from your thighs, travelling up the length of your body.

You shiver at the contact, head thrown back and eyes flickering wildly behind your eyes as you continued to grind down against him. You feel his hands travel up your shoulder blades, down your biceps, your forearms, coming to rest against your wrists with a tight grip. You allow him to pull your hands away from the shelf, and your eyes open as he draws them down to his hair, tugging them against the strands and tangling your fingers in his locks before his own claws are settling around your thighs again.

Had he just wanted you to touch him? You wonder, though it was hard to form a coherent thought as his tongue thrust into you. Experimentally, your fingers tighten against his blonde locks, and he moans hoarsely, teeth grazing your folds as he drags you impossibly closer.

This new position allowed to you to glance between your arms at his face, and you pause confused when no dim light meets you. Then, your core clenches as you realise what he was doing. You couldn't see his eyes. He had closed his eyes. The realisation has your own eyes rolling to the back of your head and your fingers tighten against his hair, pulling painfully at the roots. He whines, a high-pitched cracking groan, hips jerking up voluntarily.

He carries on working his tongue against you until you dissolve into a panting mess, sweat beading down your forehead as you hips jerk against his mouth, that familiar tight coil winding quickly in the pit of your stomach. You moan weakly as he continues to abuse your cunt, and the muscles in your thighs tighten as you feel that coil suddenly tighten to its capacity.

"Luci." You warn, hands tugging at his locks so tightly that he opens his eyes to gaze up at you, a bleary pair of ruby eyes looking up at you questioningly. "S-stop, I'm close."

"nuh-uh" He hums against you, eyes slipping closed as his hands fasten their hold around you. His tongue leaves your entrance, your clit once again finding itself in his mouth as he sucks harshly. You got the message: 'no chance'.

"Luci!" Your voice raises a pitch, and your hands pull so tightly against his scalp that it hurts; he whimpers, hips shifting as he continues his ruthless pace against your heat.

"W-wait, shit-" You gasp uselessly, teetering on the edge of losing complete control. Lucifer seems to realise, and he pulls out a move that he'd been saving. His mouth opens as wide as it would allow, and his tongue slithers out and into your folds, immediately pressing against your g-spot as his upper lip closes around your clit, working the small bud between his upper lip and the base of his tongue. The double stimulation has all air forced from your lungs, and it only takes one press of his tongue against your g-spot before your crashing down from that blissful tightness. Your toes curl as he licks against your spasming walls, claws lightly breaking your skin as he wrestles your thighs to stay apart. He moans into you and you see stars, hips faltering as you let him do as he pleases.

You can't form words as he guides you through your orgasm, body tight and hunched forward, his head grasped tightly between your hands as you moan and whimper. "God." You groan as he grazes his fangs against you clit, sparks shooting up your entire spine at the oversensitivity.

When it finally ends you slump forward tiredly, hands still knotted into his hair as he presses one last longing kiss against you. He guides you down his chest with his hands until you lay flat against his chest, breathing ragged and core fluttering as you try and regain your bearings.

"Good, sweetheart?" Lucifer hums against your temple, but you can hear the shit-eating grin in his breathy voice, and you just know the he knows he was good.

"Yes." You mutter, placing a kiss at the base of his throat as you breathe deeply, heart rate beginning to come back down. "Absolutely amazing, Luci."

You can feel him shift at the compliment, a breath catching in his throat, and you arch a brow inquisitively. You prop yourself back up, and immediately place your lips over his, kissing him deeply and taking him by surprise. You can feel the wetness that coated his chin and lips, and a hand against the side of his face tells you he was practically covered in you, the skin damp and warm beneath your touch. He grunts against your lips, returning the kiss with as much excitement.

"You were so good to me." You hush against his lips when you pull away, and you grin when his breath hitches and his pupils dilate. You had him.

"We can't leave you like this, can we? Not after you were so good." You grin more when he gulps, hands landing on your hips when you shimmy down his torso, pressing your soaking heat against his still clothed, painfully-hard erection.

"Am I that easy to read?" He questions through deep breaths, a hand tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Just to me. I did notice how you always got so flustered at compliments." You reveal, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

You turn awkwardly, straddling him backwards as you make quick work of his trousers and boxers. You tuck your hands into the waistband and gently tug down, unable to really see what you were doing so moving carefully not to accidentally hurt something. He lifts his hips to help you, and hisses when the cool cupboard air finally reaches his throbbing cock.

Unbeknownst to you, he had grown impatient as you struggled with his hips, and pushed himself up by his elbows to gain more access to you whilst you finished sorting his trousers. You feel him kissing the back of your thigh as you push them past his knees, and you have to force yourself to breath as you finish pulling them down to his ankles.

You pull away from his reaching hands which had tried to tug you back towards his face, swatting at him playfully as you turn and reposition yourself.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." You can hear his smile as he rests back, his hands sliding up your thighs and resting against your hips, thumbs pressing into the divot of your hipbone.

You could hear his deep puffs of breath in the darkness, still trying to recover from the energy he had used when treating you, and you decide that you wanted to work him up a bit more before you rewarded him in return.

"I really wish you'd let him leave the door open." You start complaining again, resting against his thighs instead of his hips, a hand running slowly down his sternum and tickling the sticky skin that quivered under your touch. "I want to see how pretty you look like this."

He stares at you from the darkness, utterly dumb-founded, mouth agape and his breath quickening.

"Trust me, I'm a mess." He forces out a nervous chuckle, but you can feel the way his fingers flex at the compliment, and your confidence only grows.

"I don't think so." You slide your palms up either of his sides, feeling the way his lungs expand as you slowly wind your arms behind his neck, drawing yourself down closer until you can feel his nose brush against your own. "I bet you look gorgeous. More handsome than you usually look, and I can barely keep my eyes off of you normally, you're just such a pretty boy."

"W-What?" He questions quietly, breathing deep when you tilt your head and kiss against the shell of his ear. His hands fall slack against your thighs, too enraptured by your words to bother to control your movements.

"Hmm," You hum, and your warm breath against his ear has him shivering. You kiss just beneath his ear, whispering huskily. "Such a handsome man. The most powerful man in Hell, and yet he's beneath me, eager to please, letting me do whatever I want, being so good."

His cheeks burst into a fiery red at your compliments whispered against the shell of his ear, chest almost caving in with the way he struggles for breath. All he can think of is you, all he can feel is you: your hands resting against his chest and against his throat, your lips and tongue peppering their way along his angular jaw, your hair brushing his forehead as you move closer.

Your hand sneaks down his chest lazily, finally grazing against his throbbing member resting heavy against his stomach. He stutters when your fingers graze against him, and you grin into the skin on his jaw when you feel how damp he is, pre-cum covering his length and puddling across his stomach. He was already fully mast, and you hadn't even had to touch him.

"Eager?" You question, hand finally wrapping around him as he pulls you in for a heated kiss, whining into your mouth when you give a leisurely stroke, thumb swiping across his slit. His hips jerk at the small action and he bites at your lips when you grip him firmer, pulling once, twice.

"You're the Devil." He gasps against your lips, tongue already flicking out to lick across your bottom lip, fully intending to pull you into another kiss.

"I think you'll find that's actually you."

You let him snake his way into your cavern, tongue filling your mouth as you shift your hips, stroking his cock agonisingly slowly, coaxing him into position without him even knowing. You take him by surprise when he feels his tip pressing against your opening, and his eyes shoot open with his tongue still mid-way towards your throat. You grin against his lips as you sink down, sheathing him in one steady rock of your hips. A pathetic little sound screeches in his throat, eyes screwing shut at the pleasurable pressure and hands regaining their death-like grip on your hips. He whimpers against your lips when you rock your hips again, beginning to set a slow, steady rhythm.

"Oh- oh, darling." He whines the pet-name through clenched teeth, hips jerking erratically as you try and find a rhythm.

You loved the little sounds he made, and you decide to let him know, carding a hand through his tussled locks, breathing against his lips. "Such pretty little noises."

You catch a glimpse of his eyes rolling back before they're hidden behind lilac-hued eyelids, a pitiful whimper rewarding your compliment, and his hips slowly begin to match your rhythm. You attempt to sit up, to really take control, but his hand at the crook of your neck prevents you from pulling too far away from him, and he grasps desperately when he realises your attempt to pull away. You could pull away if you really wanted to, plant your hands on his chest and begin setting the pace you wanted, but his needy little whines and the way he clung to your neck has you leaning forward and succumbing to the slow and steady rhythm.

It didn't take long for Lucifer to become a panting whimpering mess, not with the way your walls clung to him so achingly, hips rolling against him in such a deliciously delightful way, and lips meeting his own like an unholy prayer.

"C-close." He warns, gasping against your lips and continuing to raise his hips to meet yours. Both of his hands grasp your hips, but he allows you to set the pace, clinging on for stability more so than control.

"It's okay, Luci." You assure him, grinding harder as you edge him towards release.

"No." You feel him shake his head, hair swishing against your jaw as he licks and sucks at your throat. A hand leaves your hip and circles around to your front, thumb pressing harshly into your sensitive clit and circling it, hard. "'m not done with you yet."

You feel his thighs spread behind you, his feet planting firmly on the floor as he thrusts harder than before, pummelling that pleasant spot inside of you with renewed urgency. He was close; he couldn't cum before you did again.

"Luci," You gasp in surprise, hands fighting to find purchase and ultimately finding their way back into his hair. The rest of your sentence dies in your throat, his thumb circling harshly against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his cock drawing pleasure from the deepest parts within.

"Come on, sweetheart, please just one more. For me." His voice was a wreck, a plea muttered between gasps and chocked-back whimpers. It was the gentlest, and yet most sultry thing you had ever heard. His desperation was palpable, his throat tight, the muscles in his neck and chest rigid, his toes curling inside his shoes as he tried to fight back the pleasure rapidly building in his stomach.

"I-I-" You don't think you can until the very last second where his dick hits that deep spot inside of you in one particularly hard thrust, and then your vision blotches around the edges as pleasure sparks from the tips of your fingers all the way to the soles of your feet, your spine rigid and hips stuttering as you moan and pant. Your body shakes with pleasure, and Lucifer silences your cries of ecstasy with his lips sealing over yours, brows furrowing as he continues to rub tight little circles over the centre of your pleasure.

Your walls flutter and spasms around him, and Lucifer grunts and groans as he tries to fight back his own high, both hands falling back to your hips as he tries to concentrate, brows knitted together and mouthing thoughtlessly against your lips. You had no chance to recover from your own orgasm, his hips stuttering up into your with a frantic urgency, thrusts sloppy and out of rhythm. His resolve completely shatters when you decide to sink your teeth into his bottom lip, and then his voice is breaking and his hips are humping pathetically as his own orgasm crashes over him.

Some attempt at your name is whimpered against your rouge lips, his arms encircling your waist fully as he pumps into you once, twice, hard aborted thrusts attempted on shaking legs. When he's finally spent, with nothing more to give, he pulls away from your lips, forehead pressing heavily against your own as he gasps in a shuddering breath, panting pathetically and gazing at you with blurred eyes.

His arms don't fall from your waist as he sinks back into the cool ground, all muscles in his body lax, the aftershocks of pleasure thrumming through his weary muscles. You lay flat against his heaving chest, fighting to catch your own breath, beginning to feel the bruising muscle of your thighs, continuing to straddle him, neither one of you wanting to pull away.

"Sweetheart," His voice is rough, and he has to clear his throat before he continues. A hand slowly slides up and down your spine as he talks, clawed fingers gentle and delicate as you shiver at the sensation. "if I'm ever as dumb as I have been for the past six years, I want you to shoot me."

You giggle at how serious he sounds, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes are upturned towards the ceiling.

"I mean it. Can't believe I waisted so much time with you because I was scared." He laughs around the last word, embarrassed and not quite believing his own sheer stupidity.

"You were scared?" You question quietly, a finger tracing an imaginary pattern against his side, your eyes closed to the world as you breathe deeply.

"Of course, look at you: you're so fun, so happy, absolutely perfect at everything you do. Hell, you even join in with my lame jokes and terrible dancing. You're too good to be true, especially down here."

"If it makes a difference, I could've acted, but I was scare too."

The cupboard falls into silence for a moment, nothing but the sounds of your slowing breathing filling the silence. His palms slide up your back slowly, claws grazing the skin lightly, teasingly, repeating the motion along the expanse of your back and hips, again and again.

"There's plenty of time to make up for lost time, we've got forever." You mumble against his chest, sighing as both of his hands massage over the bruises he had unwittingly left across your thighs. Your tone turns cheeky, and you pick your head up to look at him properly. "How long do you think we have left in here?"

He seems to take the hint, gaze snapping down towards you. You grin when you see his eyes brighten in the darkness. "Give me five minutes."

[vanderlesbian]

dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.

dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.

dating simon riley means constantly being cared for. simon is a man who can do everything, or at least tries to. he somehow manages to get to all the chores before you do, which has ended in you reassuring him that you can handle it many, many times. when doing something potentially dangerous like standing on a ladder, handling a knife or using tools, simon will constantly glance in your direction to make sure something won't slip and injure you. like a spidey sense, he's quick to pull you away or come to your rescue if you're in a situation where you're about to hurt yourself. "you alright?" he'll mumble softly, dark eyes laced with worry that is a rare sight to be seen by anyone else.

dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.

dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.

dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.

masterlist

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WAKING UP WITH THEM feat. 𝓙𝓤𝓙𝓤𝓣𝓢𝓤 𝓚𝓐𝓘𝓢𝓔𝓝!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji

warnings! none, fluff ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi it’s been so long + i just got a sudden urge to write with the new season + all! life has been super cray but hopefully i get to do some more jjk again ueueue! back to my roots <3

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

it was almost a mission getting up next to gojo, or more so having to actually get out of bed when you have your overgrown clingy boyfriend wrapped around you.

his breathing is soft, the rise and fall of his chest is steady and despite the way the light barely breaks into the room you can see the way his lashes still rest along his cheeks.

now’s your chance, you think to yourself as you ease gojo’s arm from where he’s got it draped over your waist — gently as to not jolt him awake as you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed. you gently swing your legs over the edge, but just as you go to push yourself up you hear the slow, drowsy drawl of a man who’s definitely not about to let you do that.

“oh, what’s this? i don’t think so, sweet thing.” your snowy haired boyfriend grunts as his arms take their previous place around your waist from behind, tighter this time before you’re pulled back into his chest with such an ease you almost squeak. you barely heard him move and the speed he always seems to despite the early hours still makes your head feel dizzy.

“you wouldn’t leave me cold would you? where’s your heart?” gojo teases but you note that he’s warm when he’s pushing himself into the crook of your neck, letting his lips graze along the skin there as he chuckles at the way you shudder at the touch. he knows you’re pouting, your little mission not so successful—but he still thinks it’s adorable the way you melt back into him regardless.. like you were secretly hoping for the loss.

“you were literally asleep a second ago.” your words are accompanied by a playful pinch at his cheek before his large palms graze under your shirt, squeezing at your waist as he pulls away to give you a tilted look. his sleepy smirk is in place as it stretches wide before he leans into to press a quick kiss against your lips, then another against your cheek that lingers.

“oh yeah? but i thought i was still in a dream, sweet girl.” crystalline eyes pull back to look over you, mapping out your features like gojo hasn’t already committed them to memory. but you think it’s unfair how handsome he seems to look in the mornings, especially when you’re trying to resist the way he makes you want to give in to his request to stay in bed a little longer.

“yeah yeah, just get up already.”

“nuh ugh, you’ve not even given me my good morning kiss yet. how will i survive the day, hm?”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU

you need to get up, geto knows when your alarm goes off for the third time even though it was the first that woke him. “i know you’re awake, pretty girl.” he hums against your temple, but you’re still pressed up into him and every attempt to shake you gently awake has you inching yourself closer to his chest rather than to the edge of the bed.

“come on.” his words are accompanied by the smooth trace of his hands along the curve of your spine and you think it’s a little contradictory, the way he’s making you melt even more into him despite the way it’s supposed to be waking you up instead.

“sugu, but i’m tired.” a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze of his hand at your hips and you hear geto chuckle as he pulls back to look at you — his dark hair still messily framing his features as he pushes himself up.

“yeah? you seemed to be sleeping well when you were snoring.” he teases even as one arm still wraps around you and pulls you into him anyway. chuckling, long and low when you grumble before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to press butterfly kisses along his skin.

“i don’t snore.” you reply before you find yourself lost in him, geto always smelled good, so good you wanted to wrap yourself in him like the blanket you wrap yourself in at night. you hear him hum at your words; like he’s not quite convinced before he’s reaching over you to tap at the alarm, again.

“but we really need to get up.” he sighs but somehow manages to keep you still pressed against him as he sits up, letting you curl up against his chest as the first cold press of morning air rolls over your shoulders while he stretches.

you look up at him with drowsy features but it seems to warm you from the inside out when you notice he’s already staring, a smirk in place before he’s pinching once at your cheek and kissing your lips when they jut out into a pout.

“hey, don’t gimme that look after all of those alarms, pretty girl.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

waking up with nanami was easy, or more so being woken up by him. he was always up early, waking you up with a sweet kiss against your cheek, followed by another against your temple. his coffee still lingers on his lips but you think it’s familiar, like it makes the first stretch of the day come a little easier when hes resting over you.

“morning, sweetheart.” his voice is a low drawl but he knows you’ll probably still be in bed by the time he leaves. but you know you’ll walk into the kitchen to sliced fruit on the table and your slippers will be waiting in their place over the edge — perfectly positioned for you to slide into because he knows the floor is a little colder in the morning.

“morning, kento.” your voice is cute, barely audible but nanami’s still close enough to hear it as he lets his palm push gently down the curve of your shoulder — squeezing at the skin affectionately. your eyes are barely open, but you can still feel the way he tucks the comforter over you, sighing softly before he pulls back.

“do you want me to bring in dinner?” he asks, you’re barely awake but he still waits for an answer. a little nod follows and he smiles to himself when you subconsciously roll onto his side of the bed, seeking out the small remainder of the warmth he’d left behind although you’d still rather he be next to you instead.

“then i won’t be late, i have dinner plans now after all.” nanami pulls back to take another sip of his coffee but you still seem to find the consciousness to reach out to grab at the cuff of his shirt. a drowsy blink up at him and he knows he can’t deny you when he’s leaning over you again, leaving you with another few kisses that find him having to smooth down his shirt and hair again afterwards.

✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you think it’s charming, the way megumi is already looking at you as you wake, blinking blearily at your dark haired boyfriend as he gives you a content sort of look. you blink again, stretching slightly before you roll onto your side, edging yourself closer before you speak. “were you watching me sleep?”

your question is still drawled as you tease him, barely awake but you can still see the way it makes him jolt slightly — like he’s been caught in a daze as the tips of his ears sting with a blush. “no” but his reply is too quick, followed by a tsk while he’s suddenly looking everywhere but at you with a pout on his lips that only seems to lure you closer.

you giggle as you press yourself into megumi’s side, humming at the grumpy expression on his face because you still think it’s cute the way he lets you climb all over him. “what? i think it’s cute.” he softens at that, slightly as his eyes dart quickly to look at you before they’re gone again.

you let the silence settle for a few moments before you feel his arm reach to wrap gently around your waist, securing you against him before he clears his throat to finally say something. but his gaze remains on the ceiling. “i wasn’t staring..” he begins before he gives you another quick look, “.. you, you just made a sound, i was checking on you.”

you hum at megumi’s little excuse as your press your cheek into his shoulder, failing to hide the way your lips are starting to stretch into a grin that he notices before his brows furrow slightly. “hm? you looked happy about it.” you tease again and you feel his fingers squeeze at your waist slightly as he breathes out a long sigh and curls you closer.

“shutup.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI

on the rare occasions itadori seemed to wake up before you, you were never far behind — mostly because he couldn’t seem to wait too long without you. so you always seemed to find yourself woken up by a few messy kisses, pressed quickly into your cheeks, then your neck, then your nose until you’re pushing him away playfully at the way they tickle your skin.

“yuuji! i’m awake..” you huff out as your overgrown boyfriend leans his weight over you, like a giant puppy licking his owner awake in the morning as he sends you a bright grin. you always thought it was cute how pretty he still seemed to be in the mornings, even when his hair is messy and it’s barely 8am— there’s still a soft sort of glow in his eyes when they meet yours.

“morning!” itadori replies, his voice is lower than normal but he still handles you softly despite how tightly he wants to wrap you in his arms. but he was warm, sort of like sunshine and you think you quite enjoy the moments when you get to wake up under the sun.

“do you wanna get breakfast?” you ask softly and you swear you feel your boyfriend squeeze you tighter at that. but your arms wrap around him and he doesn’t think anything is gonna be as good as the feeling of you against his chest right now.

“five more minutes, babe. i wanna cuddle a little longer.” itadori’s words are muffled when he speaks them into your skin, continuing where he left off on his onslaught of kisses as he peppers them across your features. across your cheeks, along your jawline and down your neck until he’s pressing you into your pillows and groaning when you scratch your fingers through his hair.

but you accept, even though in five more minutes you know it’ll be ten.

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[rowarn]

afab!reader, gn!reader, simons a fighter, protective!simon, blood mention, fingering, lil bit of mean!simon for flavor <3 MDNI

simon riley is by all means a "do what you want, i can fight" kind of man. and fight he will. simon will go to the ends of the earth to protect you. and that's always been incredibly hot to you. you'd never had a man so eager to defend you.

especially to the point that simon was. more than once he'd come away from a fight with bloody knuckles and a split lip. 

that's exactly how he looked now, but he also sported a cut across his eyebrow as well. the guy he'd beaten in the alleyway looked much worse, but he got a few good hits in. 

all you knew was that he said some revolting things about you that simon happened to overhear. simon refused to tell you specifics, citing that you didn't need to hear something like that. 

you both had gone home quickly after that. but the sight of simon all beat up, knuckles split and bruised from the force he'd used to beat the man had something stirring in your stomach. butterflies. 

as you cleaned his cuts and wiped away any blood that stained his skin, you could feel the wetness growing in your panties. you clenched your thighs and shifted as that began to uncomfortably stick to your pussy. 

simon, always attentive, noticed right away. his pretty, brown eyes lit up in interest, a brow raised as he watched you shift on your feet. 

"something wrong?" he asked, as if he couldn't tell what was going on. 

"n-nothing, si," you responded sheepishly, tossing the bloody gauze into the garbage can before stepping away. 

simon doesn't let you get very far before his arms are wrapping around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. you can feel the heat radiating off of him and feel how his heart pounds on his chest against your back. craning your neck, you look up at him. 

"ain't nothin'," he says, voice low and quiet, "and i'm not lettin' you walk out of here with that pretty pussy drippin'.''

you swallow around the lump in your throat as he says it. he wraps his big hands around your waist and moves them downwards, slipping under your shirt and pawing at the hem of your sweatpants. he dips his head down so he can kiss along your neck, practically purring when you sink into him. 

he takes the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties, thick fingers prying your pillowy lips apart. you adjust your stance, leaning back against him for support as you spread your legs a little more so he can slip his fingers further down.

first he glides over your clit, pausing to stroke and roll the tender little bud under his fingers. your whole body twitched at that, trembling hands reaching to grip onto the fabric of his hoodie. your head fell back against his chest, giving him more access to your neck. 

his fingers dip lower, finding your entrance, slick and drooling all over the digits as he strokes back and forth, teasing you with their presence. 

"tell me," his voice vibrates in his chest, deep and low, "what's got you this wet?"

"mmm, d-dunno, si," you lie right through your teeth at him. 

he hums, pulling his fingers away from your sweet little hole to go back to your clit, pinching the bud. you whimper at the feeling, hips rabbing back to get away from the little pain, "you're lyin'. i want you to tell me the truth. what has this pretty little cunt all wet?"

"simon..." you whine. he knows you don't want the embarrassment that comes from the confession but he teases it out of you anyway, "y-you got me wet, si!"

"me?" he grins, wolfish and predatory, "i didn't do anything, love,"

you whine, rocking your hips forward. he took some mercy on you and slowly sunk one, long, finger into the tight clutch of your cunt. the stretch wasn't enough, he knew that, you'd become so accustomed to the fat girth of his cock that one single finger would never be enough to satisfy you now. he'd ruined you. 

"y-you beat that-that guy up for me..." you finally manage to squeeze out of your dry throat, "'s hot..."

he scoffs as if he didn't already know that that was the reason, "you like me beatin' some bastards head in for you?" you nod, sighing in pleasure when he rewards your with a second finger, "you're fuckin' filthy. you think he'd be happy to hear that it turns you on?"

"don't care about him," you quickly answer. 

his grin broadens, "that's the right fuckin' answer, love."

he finally gives you the third and final finger. you keen when he stretches you open on those digits, curling them just right to hit that gooey, spongey little spot inside you. his palm curls around your pelvic bone so the heel of his hand grinds against your clit just how you need to cum nice and hard for him. 

he works his fingers slow and deep, making sure to hit that spot every time he stuffs his fingers back inside you. his other hand comes up, wrapping around your throat to pin your against his chest. you moan freely, clawing at his tattooed arm desperately as you rock your hips against his hand. 

he can hear the wet, slick sounds of him fucking your precious little cunt open. you work your clit feverishly against his hand, helping yourself along to the high you so deserve. you're dripping down his fingers, making a mess of him and yourself but you don't care. 

"'m gonna cum!" you needlessly warn him.

"i know," he grumbles, tilting your head up so he can press his lips against yours, hand still firmly wrapped around your throat. 

he sees your eyes roll back before you melt into the kiss, your orgasm washing over you. he groans when he feels you squeezing and clenching around his fingers, pathetically humping against his hand to work your clit even harder. he slowly strokes that spongey little spot to help ease you through your high. you tremble and clutching desperately at his arm as you start to come down, whimper and panting into his mouth before he lets you pull away. a string of spit connects your lips and you look completely dazed as you gaze up at him. 

he always did enjoy the way a good orgasm had you looking all dumb and pliant for him. 

he pulls his fingers out of your panties and you whine at the loss, watching him bring those cum-covered fingers up to your face. you could see the way the bruises and splits in his knuckles were covered in your cum and had to hold back to keep from moaning at the sight. 

he popped them into his mouth, sighing at the taste of your sweet cum on his tongue. 

before you knew it, he was breezing past you out of the bathroom and down to the living room, no doubt on the hunt for something to eat. 

"simon!" you called petulantly. 

you heard him laugh from the living room, "what?"

"you aren't gonna fuck me?" you complain, feeling heat flood your cheeks when he laughs again.

"dunno, love," his tone is teasing, "we'll see."

ugh. he could be so generous one second and mean the next </3

mwah here is some food my beloveds

[moonit3]

A LOYAL BUTLER

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, smut, mentioned deaths, mentioned masturbation, obsession, afab! reader, forbidden love (?), fingering, cunnilings, overstimulating, forbidden relationship.

➥ yandere! butler x mistress! reader

➥ synopsis: with all men dead, you are the currently head of the family and by your side stand your loyal butler who helps you with a small problem.

➥ a/n: request by @taeee0902. based on a small chat we had a few weeks ago. I really love their idea of having a butler as a yandere for a mistress who can’t catch a break from work, so she uses her beloved servant as a stress relief. this one is a little short since I got a some projects from college I need to do. SECOND PART HERE, GUYS!

➥ unlike the rest of the noble houses of the empire, the barony is lead by a woman, you. since your father, brothers and uncles death, you have become the head of the family in the middle of the night with the approval of the last member of the royal family, the empress. meaning that none could take over your place if they marry you, making you the only person able to rule over the barony along with the help of elliot, your personal butler.

➥ he has been on your side since the early days. a little bit older than you by a couple of years, elliot has been your butler and best friend for a long time, someone who you can trust with your secrets and to help around work when you are stressed out. his gloved hands caressing your hair when you can barely stay awake from working hours and hour without a break or when elliot lays you down the couch of the office to give you a nice and deserved rest.

➥ it a routine that you are still getting used to it. always working without taking a single break (how father managed to do that?), talking and talking with people who are boring (almost falling asleep during meetings) and your less favorite, being so lonely. being the head of the house means that you have no time to spend one with the family, at least with those who still alive, and they live so far away from the barony that makes you feel so alone most of the time…but you have elliot at your side, don’t you? he won’t leave anytime soon, he promised that.

➥ most of the days is about you and elliot working together to fill the paperwork before night, it’s not easy as you expected, but its satisfying seeing how your hardwork later when the money arrives. and of course, you buy a few gifts for elliot to thank him for his help.

➥ sometimes are cufflinks that are made with the finest gems of the empire to match his eyes (that are only for you, my dear), expensive clothing that make many mistake him for a nobleman (he wishes to be the one to marry you) and a glass to help with his poor eyesight (he didn’t imagine that you could even more gorgeous). you are perfect, none can be compared to you and those who even try to stand up at the same height as your should suffer.

➥ and when you stop working for the day, elliot makes sure to take care of you. massaging your shoulder after you finally get a time to rest, preparing the soft and tasty food to make up to your hard work and helping you taking off your dresses. his hand unbuttoning the back of vests, to reveal your collarbone (the one that he dreams to place many marks on it) and your lingerie.

➥ he only could imagine how beautiful you are behind those piece of clothing, the water of the bathtub made difficult to see you nudity as he washes you hair with the finest shampoo and hearing you humming a melody from an old fairy tale. elliot feels like he is the happiest man on earth by touching your body in a intimate way, but he wishes to be more close with you and feel your body under his. is this too much to ask for?

➥ once the bath is done for good, elliot helps you put some lightly vests to cover you from the cold night and then guide you to the office, after all, you still need to work with some paperwork, where he stays right by your side for a couple of minutes before his time to leave. he was ready to leave for the night, but you call his name from the desk and asked him to come closer.

➥ is there something you need from me, [name]? he has the right to call by first name when alone. elliot hoped to be a simple request, such a glass of water, but you surprised him. you asked him, your personal butler, to have a sexual relationship with him. a casual thing, you told him that you need to let the stress out somehow.

➥ elliot’s mind told him to refuse the request, it’s not right to a noble woman and her butler to be in an intimate relationship, it’s forbidden! but his heart told him otherwise, saying it’s his only chance to be closer to you as he always dreamed of and that he could stop touching himself while thinking of you at night…he accepted your offer.

➥ the following day went smoothly to the servants of the household, after all, you looked so much better after days and days of stressing over working! but where is elliot? the butler was supposed to be serving you all the time, but no one can find him anywhere…maybe if they look under your desk they would find him.

➥ his fingers is hitting places you couldn’t never. teasing and touching every inch of your spongy walls, making you almost unable to hold back the moans that are desperate trying to get out. elliot has zero experience in touching a woman, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a faster leaner, managing to find the best areas of your inside to result in your body squirt under his touch. letting your fluids hit his lips and glasses, making him feel so powerful for being the responsible one to do it.

➥ eyes rolling back and trembling your whole body when elliot goes further with his tongue inside you. tasting how sweet and admiring how wet you can get by a merely teasing of his part, have you dream of this? how long have you been waiting for this to happen? he is going to ask it later, but now, he will be the responsible one to make you come by his tongue alone, elliot wants to drink til the last drop.

➥ his pleasure is ignored, completely obsessing over yours. elliot has his main goal to make you come by him and to hear the sweet sounds coming out of your lips, he adores it so much! it’s seem like time stops when you orgasm over and over til you can’t talk nor move your legs…and he isn’t stopping.

➥ elliot…t-too much, please stop. he doesn’t hear your words, his tongue continues to move inside and fingers are holding your thighs away to give him a better view of your pretty pussy, admiring it once again, then he continues with his work to make you feel good, unaware that you’ve reach your limit.

➥ luckily, you managed to push him away and elliot finally notice of your currently state. if someone say you right now, they won’t believe that you are noble lady, not with a commoner between your legs, with an expression from those erotic novels that many read in secret. it would be a such problem if anyone catch him this way.

➥ I-I’m exhausted… you are tired, of course you are, who wouldn’t be after a series of orgasm? but not elliot. he stares at you with his eyes begging for more, not even caring about his pants being ruined by his cum. tonight he is going to focus on you alone. you w-want more? he nodded, already teasing your clit again and whispering how much he loves you, his finger tapping your skin and fluids. well, since you asked it so nicely, elliot. you can continue it as long im working, okay?

➥ the smile on his face only grew before he went back to his place between your thighs, already feeling like he is the luckiest man in earth.

@moonit3 writings

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

[horrorartsworld]

cozy as a kitten

alastor/f!reader

warnings: there are none straight up fluff with a little bit of mild teasing c:

You’ve had a long and painstakingly hard day at the hotel.

Every time you thought you could catch a break and sit down someone or something was needing you to do just about everything.

Charlie and Vaggie needed your help for the days activity.

Angel needed your opinion on his new porn shoot.

Sir pentious blew a hole in the side of the hotel with a new invention that you had to confiscate.

Husk well he’s Husk…

Niffty got stuck in a toilet.

At this point you needed just somewhere to slip away for a while and it seemed you knew just the place.

As you ascended the stairs of his broadcasting tower..

Alastor was on the air, so you quietly watched him from the sidelines while he worked. Smiling softly to yourself as you could tell this was truly something the radio demon enjoyed doing (besides causing torment to those who wronged him) and saw how much dedication he put into it.

He finally notices you as he wraps up his last couple words and then signed off turning to you in his chair with that signature grin.

“Hi my dear! Are you feeling alright?~” Alastor taking in your wearisome expression.

“Yeah Al i’m fine…just been a long day and need to get off my feet.” You give him a soft smile as you then rub your eyes tiredly.

He looks around the room seeing as there were no other seats in the room besides his own.

Alastor then puts aside his mic letting it lean against his desk, dusting of his thighs as he pats his hand on his lap.

“Come here” His voice surprisingly soft and inviting which caught you off guard.

“Alastor you don’t have to-“

“I insist~” He cuts you off before you could even protest patting his thigh more demandingly now making you blush.

You walk your way over to him settling yourself on his lap though you sat stiff as a board making him chuckle.

“You can relax now sweetheart, i don’t bite..much~”

Your body went rigged as he said this, shoving your face in his chest to hide your now red face.

“HAHA can’t take the heat..” He teasingly whispered in your ear as the static in his voice was practically humming.

Then an uneasy feeling passes through you as you then hear his tentacles admit from the floor coming up to wrap around you, making your head poke up for a moment as they then stopped once wrapped around you almost like a blanket.

Feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside from the comfort it was bringing to you.

Alastor then runs his hand gently along your hair stroking it as you rested your head on his chest once more feeling your eyes getting more droopy.

“A-alastor~” Your voice tiresome as you attempt to fight the sleep over taking you.

“Shhhhh darling, just rest, you deserve it~” He shushes you softly and could swear you felt a small kiss being placed on your forehead before the slumber completely overtaken you.

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I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST LIL FIC “hell’s little maid”!! i honestly was so iffy on it and felt that my writing was crap to be proven completely wrong 😭 which has now just made me want to write tons more so TY! TY! TY! ᰔᩚ