#and me i have a button on the back of my neck that you can hit and I'll explain anything to the best of my ability (very able explainer)

[heesmiles]

TAKE ME FOR A RIDE ; l.hs ׅ 𐙚 ׄ .

SYNOPSIS ──── heeseung takes you on a ride in his new car. ( warnings ) ──── ㅤノㅤ𓈒ㅤlee heeseung x fem ! reader 765 word count. 彡 not proof read, smut mdni, pwp, recording, chain pulling and biting, dirty talk, kinda subby!hee & dom!reader?, handjob..... pure filth ✧:･ﾟ

It was silent save for the rattle of your shaky breath, lips glued to Heeseung like your life depended on it. His hands explored your body with virtue — his tongue ever so slick against your lips. His brand new leather seats clings to your naked thighs with discomfort. The air in his Mercedes was thick, your heaving breathing filling up the car like smoke in an already burning building, but you were in too deep to care. Too intoxicated on the feel of his lips against yours; the heat pooling between your legs was almost unbearable. You needed something, anything — to satiate the desperation you felt; wanted feel him, wholly. 

Your lower half was naked, as was Heeseung, your hand pumping his cock with a slow precision — enough to drive him absolutely insane; just how you liked it. Pre-cum beaded at the tip of his cock, your hand rounded it using the sticky substance as lubricant as you moved your hand faster up and down his shaft. “Holy fuck.” He groaned, a guttural sound deep in his throat. It served as your encouragement. You continued your movements, searching his face for pleasure. A slow smirk spread across your lips as Heeseung kept his eyes screwed shut, his hand gripping the center console so hard his knuckles were white. You loved this side of him; the side that allowed himself to give way to the pleasure completely. The Heeseung who groaned and moaned like no one was listening. 

“I love your new car, baby.” You smiled, a sweet smile that would otherwise turn Heeseung to mush. You had him right where you wanted him. “It’s perfect for times like this..” You trailed off, your hand yanking at Heeseung’s silver chain around his neck — pulling his face closer to yours. His eyes were heavy lidded watching your every movement. His heavy breath fanned across your face. Your lips wrapped around the chain, biting down on the metal like an animal in heat. 

“Oh my god.” Heeseung’s eyes were wide as he watched you. “You’re so fucking hot.” His hands lifted from your waist to paw at your clothed breasts, squeezing them in his hands softly. “You have the best tits, baby.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, letting his chain fall back down against his chest with a thud. “I’d say you’re the hot one….” You reached your hand down while still keeping a slow languid pace on his cock. “I need to keep this moment forever, Hee.” You grabbed your phone that sat perched in the car's cup-holder before turning it on and opening the camera app. “Can I do that, baby?” You asked, “Can I record you?” 

Your hand quickened, rising and falling so fast your fist smacked against his thigh. He jerked forward, grappling at anything nearby to center himself; bring him back down to earth. “S-shit.” He gasped, “Y-yeah, yeah you can.” You smiled a small smile, cooing at him before pressing the record button on your phone. Your hand was shaky causing the camera to tilt a little but you didn’t mind. The video was for your eyes and your eyes only anyway. You lifted your phone catching Heeseung’s face in the frame, his eyes once again heavy lidded with the pleasure coursing through his veins. 

“Do you wanna cum?” You asked, your voice low and sultry with need. Heeseung only nodded, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. “I said…” You trailed, tanking your hand from his cock, “Do you want to cum?” 

Heeseung reached for your wrist “Yes! Fuck, don’t – don’t stop.” Your hand found his shaft again, working him up and down like he asked. He was whining, damn near with tears in his eyes. It was a sight to behold; one you were glad to be capturing. 

“I want to see you cum on camera, Hee.” He was close, his breathing quickened; his head thrown back against the seat of the car. He groaned, low. It had your core throbbing at the sight. You couldn’t believe he was yours. 

“I’m gonna cum.” He nodded his head — his eyes screwed shut. You angle your camera just right; ready to capture the moment like it were a cinematic masterpiece — You the director and Heeseung the shining star. “Don’t stop, I'm gonna cum.”

“I’m not going to stop.” You cooed as you watched the show. Heeseung came with a groan, low in his throat. His spend coating your hand and dripping down your arm. 

“Like I said.” You smirked, watching him come down from his high. “I love your new car.” 

(♬) - @beomiracles @biteyoubiteme @hyukascampfire @dawngyu @izzyy-stuff @1-800-jewon @xylatox @firstclassjaylee @teddybeartaetae @hoonjayke

[heartseungbin]

OMGGG!! We need virgin beomseok 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ lowkey instead of him being obsessed with suho I need him obsessed with US instead! 👅 I’d give him all the attention 🧘🏾‍♀️ -🧁

(also so random but FUCK his dad omgg. He can DIE)

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY O.B

synopsis; you and beomseok do it at a party

warnings; somewhat public fucking, overstimulation, exploration of choking?? (lit one mention), mention of alcohol, virgin!beomseok, unprotected sex (wrap ts before you fuck a pretty boy)

notes; really airing myself and my kinks out with this one smh "FREAK" you all yell in unison as you point at me, throwing stones and tomatoes💔💔 #freakmcnasty bro I cannot believe it took me a month to write this..I lowkey want my chance with reader next move beomseok🤨

This party is intense.

It's Beomseok's first time at a house party and he was anxious to say the least.

"I'm telling you Beomie, we can leave whenever you want. You sure?" I search his eyes, taking hold of his shaking hands. He cast his gaze to the ground for a second as I gently squeeze his hands, before looking back at me. He softly shakes his head, "I'm okay." I smile, nodding in understanding.

"We'll leave in like—thirty minutes. Wanna find a room to chill in?" He looks away for a second, thinking. He nods and I tighten my grip on his hand.

I weave through the crowd of dancing bodies, clutching his hand tightly so I don’t lose him. The music is piercing as I head past a speaker, the bass booming and the music flooding my brain. I throw a hand over my ears, looking back to see how Beomseok was fairing.

He winces as we pass by the speaker and I try to yell over the music. "Cover your ears." I motion to my ears with my free hand and he covers the one closest to the speaker as I continue pulling him along.

Fuck, it's suffocating like a maze in here.

Whose house even is this?

I can barley think with the music blasting, making every other noise impossibly quiet.

I lead him to a staircase where people are sitting on every other stair, making out and practically fucking. I pull him along and up the stairs, yelling apologies over the music.

I make it upstairs with Beomseok while attempting to shove past the people crowding the halls. The stench of alcohol hangs thick in the air, making my nose scrunch. I head right to the first door I see, which is at the end of the crowded hall. I push past people, pulling Beomseok into the unlocked room and shutting the door.

From what I can see in the lowlight of the moon, there's a large bed with a canopy in the center of the room, inviting me over. The music is almost muffled in this room, and I sigh in relief, thankful to not have to yell anymore.

I let go of his hand, flopping onto the bed. "I'm so damn tired."

It's quiet for a moment save for the muffled music downstairs and I realize Beomseok is still standing by the door as I sit up, propping my elbows on the bed. I look him up and down, drinking up his flushed state.

He’s wearing a buttoned-up cardigan, soft and slightly oversized, with dark dress pants that hang just loose enough to bunch around his ankles. His black suede shoes are perfectly lined up, his hands clasped behind him like a nervous schoolboy.

His head is bowed, hair falling into his face, the faintest flush creeping up his neck and I can just barely see the smooth skin of his chest through the V of the cardigan.

Looks like he's not wearing anything underneath.

He looks so cute like this.

"Come here baby, no need to be nervous." I pat the spot on the bed next to me and he looks up, pushing his glasses onto his face. He saunters over with no hesitation. He perches on the far edge of the bed, his gaze drifting everywhere but in my direction.

"Why sit so far?" I fully sit up now, getting off the bed. I plop myself next to him, scooting myself impossibly close to him. His thigh touches mine. So does his arm. He gulps, Adams apple bobbing with the movement.

"I don't bite," I scoot that much closer, bringing my voice to barley above a whisper.

"Unless you like that."

I can see how the words effected him as soon as he shivers, scanning the room and avoiding my eyes like I'd turn him to stone.

"I do—I mean I, I just haven't you know—" He stumbles over his words, and I nod, placing a comforting hand over his.

"I know, do you want to try?" He looks at me then, his eyes growing wide.

"Yeah—I'd like that." He grabs my hand then, rubbing a comforting hand over my own. It's something he does to calm himself I've noticed. I feel a smile tug at the corners of my lips. "We can start off slow if you'd like." He nods, a soft smile growing on his face.

"It's okay to be nervous baby, if at any point you wanna stop or slow down promise to let me know?" I bring a hand up to his face, gently turning him to face me. He looks at me with hooded eyes, gentle tufts of breath hitting my face.

"I promise." He blinks. He takes these things so seriously and it really warms my heart.

He looks sort of dazed and a couple beats of silence pass as I drink him in.

"You're so beautiful." He sighs, gaze lingering on my lips. I softly laugh. The air suddenly feels heavier with something else now as we both go quiet. I lean in closer and his breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. I brush a piece of hair from his eyes, placing a soft peck to his lips.

His breath fans against my lips, hot and shakily like he can't bare to look at what's coming next.

I smile, thinking about just how long it took to get him to this point. When we first started dating he was so shy, hesitant to kiss or even hold hands. He's grown so much since we first met.

I press my lips to his and his hands crawl up my body, coming to play at the straps of my top, just thumbing with the fabric there. I cup his jaw, bringing him in all the closer as his lips part slightly.

I slip my tongue into his awaiting mouth. He tastes slightly of mint and a hint of alcohol. He grabs onto the strap of my shirt then, grabbing the fabric tightly.

Several moments pass and he whimpers into the kiss, pulling away to catch his breath. His chest rises and falls deeply as I snake a hand up his sweater from the bottom, feeling the smooth skin of his chest as his heart thumps under my fingertips.

I follow the red flush of his chest through his dress shirt up to his neck where I caress the soft skin there.

What a smooth canvas to paint with bruises.

"Your hearts racing baby, do you wanna take a break or stop?" He takes a deep breath in before replying, "No, let's keep going—fuck, you're so hot." he breathes, going in for another kiss. I lean forward, slightly parting my lips. I bring my hand down from his neck to thumb at his nipple and his body jolts as he moans quietly into my mouth. I pull away, hand resting on his stomach.

"Was that okay?" I breathe, gazing at him with lidded eyes. I can feel my own heart thumping in my rib cage as I look at him.

God—he's so fucking cute.

He bites his lip, silent for a second. "I—I liked it." He looks at me with wide eyes.

"I actually can't take It you are so fucking cute Beomie," I smile, swiping a thumb over his cheek lovingly. His face is smooth save for the occasional pimple, which is understandable. He leans into the touch, and my thumb dips into his parted mouth where he takes a hesitant lick, looking into my eyes.

"For fucks sake Beomie, you're really gonna make me fuck you right here." He laughs and I feel myself smile with him, laughter overtaking me also.

"But seriously—" I pull away, hands resting at the bottom of his shirt. "Let's take this off." He nods, and I pull the fabric over his head, him pulling his arms out helpful.

His chest is flushed red, beauty marks scattered across the skin. I must've been staring for a while because he broke the silence. "Do you think I look good?" he looks away shyly, like he would curl into a ball if I said anything but yes.

"Fuck yeah, you look more than good." I smile, looking at his slightly toned chest. I look into his eyes once more, "I wanna devour you."

He shudders at the words and I stand as I shimmy my pants and panties off of me and onto the floor. "Your turn." He bites his lip, eyes scanning my body and stopping when he gets to my tits. He stands suddenly, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants off, they hit the floor noiselessly and he immediately puts his hand over his dick, the flush seemingly spreading everywhere.

It's silent save for the soft breathing of us both.

"Can I—" he pauses, lip pouting and eyebrows furrowing like he doesn't know how to phrase the sentence right. "Can I eat you out?" He says like a question, and could swear I almost came right then and there.

I bite my lip with a nod as I saunter over to him. I push his chest softly, making him hit the bed with a quiet thump. I climb on top of him, stopping when I reach his neck.

I leave a soft kiss on the reddening canvas that is his throat and his back arches slightly. I put my hand on his chest, lightly pushing him back onto the bed. "Are we okay to continue?" I peck his lips, our faces so close I can see the depth of his eye bags and the dilation of his pupils.

"Yes, more than okay, fuck—I love you." he says, pulling me into a kiss as he places his hands on the back of my head, pulling me all the closer. I smile into the kiss, pulling away and sitting up. I slide myself down his body till I'm pressed against his leaking and hard cock. "mmph—please," he moans, hands resting against the silk sheets.

"Whatever you want Seokie," I whisper, lifting myself up and reaching behind me to grab his cock and guide it into me. I hum to myself as I slowly lower myself until I'm flush with his pubic bone.

I moan lowly at the stretch as Beomseok hums, eyes fluttering shut.

I catch my bottom lip between my top teeth as I begin to move, hands glued to his chest and I slowly grind against him. "Fuck," he moans, hands clenching and unclenching the sheets.

I grab his sweaty, slender hands and place them onto my waist as I lower myself onto his chest, lips flush with his perky nipples. I circle the skin there, leaving open mouthed kisses on his flushed skin.

His head lols to the right limply like his bones were made of jelly. I began to suck on his chest, leaving behind dark purple marks as his back arched into me, drawn tightly like a bow and arrow.

He whimpers as I suck dark marks into his skin and I know full and well he's gonna feel these tomorrow.

Is it already tomorrow? Shit, what time is it?

I feel like I'm getting lost in the feeling of him, him stretching my walls so perfectly and the quiet and drawn out moans of my name into the air.

He sounds heavenly like this and my chest warms at the thought. He whines my name, moaning when I clench around him. My hands fly to his neck, bringing him all the closer as I begin to whisper.

"You're doing so well baby," I kiss his bruised chest once again as I bring a hand up to his hair. He moans as I tug slightly, back falling onto the bed.

I begin riding him seriously now, the sudden change in pace making him grip my waist harshly and I groan at the thought of the bruises I'll be dealing with tomorrow. I can feel myself getting closer as I pant, fully intending on milking him of everything he had and more.

"Shit—m' gonna come," he groans, panting as he opens his eyes.

Our eyes meet as I grind harshly onto him, his hips bucking into me sporadically. "Fuck Beomseok—" I clench around him once more as the knot in my stomach snaps. "Come with me, now." The hand in his hair comes down to the flushed skin of his neck, tightening slightly.

His brown eyes roll back into his skull as he moans louder than he has all night and I feel the warmth pumping into me as he jolts and shudders, hips stuttering as he empties himself into me.

His back hits the bed with a thump and he lays still, shuddering occasionally through the aftershocks as he pants.

His eyes flutter shut and he looks almost sleepy as he looks up at me with dazed eyes.

"Was that good?" I pant, sitting up and resting my hand against his chest.

He throws a hand over his eyes and I can see the slow smile spreading across his face.

"It was more than good, I've never—"

At that very moment, the door flies open over the noise of panting. Suho is standing there, mid sentence before he stops. "Have you guys seen—" His eyes widen, jaw going slack as he takes in the scene before him.

"Holy shit—"

—

if you enjoyed, consider liking, reblogging, commenting, sharing or sending in your own ask:p

this is so unlike me fr next smut im putting it in his ahh fr guys trust!!

[stevenose]

since you’re asking abt perv!steve…

what abt pervy boyfriend steve who loves sneaking peeks up your skirt while you’re in public. He begs you not to wear panties so he can get glimpses of the glistening mess that is between your legs. Sometimes he’s even brazen enough to touch, brushing his fingers through your soaked folds as he makes his way past you. Before you can even react you spot him across the room with his fingers in his mouth, a cocky grin on his face as he locks eyes with you

contains: reader w a vagina, steve being a menace, maybe a bit of dubcon?, ‘slut’ used several times, no gendered language used for reader

this has me going CRAYZAYYYYY!!!!! oh my god. soaking his fingers then sucking them clean all casually while saying hi to some friends… and later makes fun of you for how soaked you’d been 🫶🏻 and you’re all pissed off and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re some kind of slut and that you like it. but steve’s sweet and charming and he talks so pretty and kind to you that you go bare again at the next party.

this time, though, you’re not exposed. you wore pants. tight pants, but pants. no way for him to feel you up like that in public again.

but it’s steve, and steve’s addicted to your pussy. spends almost every waking moment thinking of it - spread around his cock, sweet in his mouth, wrapped around his fingers. he won’t let you get away with it.

he pulls you by the belt loops into an empty bathroom, tugging your back into his chest, your ass pressed against his erection.

steve’s hands roam. they move up your torso and cup your breasts, squeezing every plush part of you. his lips, sticky with beer, kiss down your neck. it makes you shiver.

“thought you could hide away from me, huh?” he asks, his hands moving to the button and zipper of your pants. “should have pulled these down in front of everyone, show ‘em what i already know. let them see how wet you get over being treated like a slut.”

you gasp, your stomach flipping at his words.

“knew you liked it,” he murmurs, working your pants down your ass and past your knees. “could smell your pussy across the room.“

“nuh-uh,” you breathe. it’s useless.

“pretty pussy just needs attention,” he coos, getting on his knees behind you.

he bends you over and slowly peels your underwear off, whistling lowly at the strings of slick that follow it. steve doesn’t waste a second in feeling you, his right hand cupping the heat….

your mind really never fails. every time you send an ask it COOKS!!! thank you for sending this… i am thinking several thoughts…

[ssapphosviolets]

Atta Girl

Lovesick Puppydog Sevika x Reader

┈─★

Growing up in Zaun with not much money to spare usually means you either learn how to fix things yourself, or go into debt having someone else do it. So, when Sevika got her first car as a teenager, a busted up Subaru Outback, she'd quickly learned to fix things up herself. She mostly viewed having to fix up her car as a slight nuisance, annoying but necessary-

Until she met you, and came to understand the fun nuances of mechanical work. And while she never thought she would spend her off days in a car junkyard, it didn't take long for her to find enjoyment in it.

or; you and Sevika go on a date to the car pick-a-part yard

(i'm sticking to my hc that sevika drives a 1996 Volvo 850R Wagon and no one will convince me otherwise. this is my truth) ᯓ also ty to everyone who encouraged me to write this after this post i love all of you. ᯓ inspired by my most recent junkyard trip bc i snapped an ignition coil bolt on my honda and wanted an excuse to look for wheels for my celica ooops

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You can't help but yawn as you pull up your pants, still not fully awake but wanting to get out of the house before the summer heat became too unbearable. When your eyes open to catch yourself in the mirror, you notice the lighting darken and create a shadow over you as Sevika steps up behind you.

"Morning, Sev." You mumble as her hands are placed on your waist. You reach your arms up to wrap around the back of her neck, leaning back into her strong chest and letting your head fall into her as she places a kiss on the side of your temple.

"Mmm. What's up with the cargos this morning, hun?" Sevika whispers. Her hands snake around to your front, carefully pulling up the zipper in front of your stomach before pushing the button through. She tugs a little on the belt loop as one of her arms comes across to hug your chest. "You already know, babe."

"Ah, that you're gonna leave me all by myself while you spend all day giving your attention to your car. You also have love for me too, ya know." You shake your head fondly, her teasing smirk letting you know she's not serious.

She doesn't get hung up on you spending your time on your hobbies. If anything, she likes it. It's an excuse for her to have time for her own, often joining you in the garage as you both do your own things, or if she's feeling up to it even helping you out.

"Come join me then?" You ask hopeful. She nods and kisses down your cheek to your shoulder. "Of course." She mumbles into your skin. She pats your waist before pulling away to get dressed.

"Oh also, can I borrow the Volvo again? Mine mighttt not have enough room." You ask in your sweetest voice as she rounded the corner from the bathroom. You don't have to see her to know she's rolling her eyes. "Of course you can." She sighs in defeat.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"So what the hell are we actually here for again?" Sevika asks as you both get out of her car, shutting the doors. You catch up to her long strides as you make your way to the entrance of the pick-a-part yard.

"Uhh, well I need bolts for the Honda's ignition coils cause one of them snapped yesterday. I wanna see what wheels are here too. And whatever else seems like a fun souvenir." Sevika wordlessly takes the heavy bag of tools off your shoulder to carry it herself. "I think you have enough 'souvenirs', hun. You already have a collection of steering wheels." She teases.

"Okay but what if, in the next upcoming weeks I get, let's say a.. LS300. But the shady guy I bought it from took off the steering wheel. Oh look, I have one right here. You gotta think bigger, Sevika." You say as you tap the side of her head. She chuckles reluctantly, amused by your stubbornness, all the while deep down she loves it.

She throws a heavy arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side. The sound of the gravel crunching under your guys's shoes follows the both of you as she hums, conceded. "You're right. Only cause it's you." She mumbles light-heartedly.

You smile up at her, admiring as the morning sun radiates onto her face. The patterns etched in the dark iris of her eyes glow in the light, and her dark tinted lips are relaxed into a slight smile. You love seeing her like this, especially when you compare this image of her to the Sevika you met for the first time, or the Sevika who's on the job.

The resting scowl she always wore turned to a content smile when she was around you. Her eyebrows didn't crease and her jaw wasn't clenched. Her eyes didn't look so pointed and mean, now they're soft and gentle. The way she carries herself is more relaxed, with her steps being lazier and clunkier as opposed to purposeful, and her shoulders aren't as tense.

She smiles down at you when she catches you staring, and you bashfully avert your gaze to the ground.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

While Sevika finishes checking in, you go off to grab a cart. She meets you and places the bag inside, and before you can continue she taps your hand holding the bar, gently shooing you away. You step to the side as she takes your spot, leaning her forearms on the handle as she pushes forward.

You lead the way with a hand on the side of the cart, ogling at the hundreds and hundreds of cars lined up in rows on jacks. Sevika stopped paying attention to the torn apart cars after the second row, instead finding herself fixated on you. This place really was like heaven for someone like you. And Sevika for that matter, who while not being into cars as much as you, had pretty sound knowledge of general mechanics.

Growing up in Zaun with not much money usually meant you either learn how to fix things yourself, or go into debt having someone else do it. So, when she got her first car as a teenager, a busted up Subaru Outback, she'd quickly learned to fix things up herself. She mostly viewed fixing up her car as a slight nuisance, annoying but necessary. Until she met you, and came to understand the fun nuances of mechanical work. She quite enjoyed it when she had to do maintenance or tune ups on her car now. And while she never thought she would spend her off days in a junkyard, it didn't take long for her to find enjoyment in it.

"The holy Honda land." You say as you and Sevika come up upon row 219. She stops behind you as you peek over one of the engine bays, rounding the cart to join you. "It's gonna be the bolt that goes into this little thing." You explain to Sevika, who nods intently.

Sevika knew the drill, and you both got to work. This car didn't have the bolts you needed, so you both continued on to ransacking the rest of the car in search of something that could be of use. Sevika rummaged through the interior while you checked around under the car for any spare bolts or screws that could be of use.

You startle when a car door lands on the ground just next to you, dust being kicked up in your face from the impact. Quicker than you could comprehend, Sevika's hand was covering your head while her other grasped onto the heavy metal before it fell further. Once your body recognized its safety, you couldn't help but burst out into laughter at the fallen door, a piece of the broken handle still in Sevika's hand.

"Well someone already got to the hinges." Sevika shrugged, followed by her own chuckles as she throws the door to the side. You guys repeat the same thing on multiple cars, engaging in conversation about your week or stories from Sevika's recent gambling stint at The Last Drop.

You cheer as the next car you come upon finally had the bolts still intact. "Found em?" Sevika said, amusement clear on her face. "Yes ma'am." She rolls her eyes at your response, but hands you your socket wrench. "Need a 10?" She asks as she searches through the sockets in your bag. You hum in response and she places the piece of metal in your outstretched palm.

You take off the bolts, handing them behind you to Sevika to hold onto until you were done. "Atta girl." She says as she takes them from you, not missing the shy and sheepish look on your face from her praise.

The both of you continue this for upwards of an hour, just rummaging through torn apart cars while talking. Eventually you retire the search of car parts in favor of hunting for wheels. Not even five minutes into rummaging through the piles of rims and tires, Sevika grabs your attention with a low whistle.

You look up and see her lifting up a chrome wheel, with what looked like almost brand new tires. "Oh my god, no way!" You trudge over the wheels on the ground to meet her. You inspect the little numbers on the tires on the rim, "right size and everything." You say happily. "Man I wish I lucked out this easily with mine for the Volvo. Had to pay out the ass for mine."

Sevika shook her head, effortlessly dropping the wheel in the cart as you picked up the other. Sure, Sevika was a gentlewoman; always holding your bags, opening doors for you, tying your shoelaces, any act of service she could think of. But she doesn't undermine your own strength either, instead watching with an ogling smirk as you load the last wheel into the cart, your t-shirt sleeves riding up and revealing your flexed muscles. "You're such a dog." You playfully hit her shoulder.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"I'm glad you came with me today." You told Sevika as you made your way back to the car, this time covered in dirt, grime, and sweat, with pockets full of clanking of bolts and fuses. You continue, "I know rummaging around a junkyard isn't an ideal date idea, but it's one my favorite things to do with you." You both make eye contact, matching each others smiles.

"I'd do anything with you, hun. You know that." You stop at her car and turn around to face her, your arms reaching up to wrap around her shoulders. "I love you, Sev." She responds by pulling you in further by your waist, leaning down to catch your lips in hers. She squeezes your waist as her way of saying it back. "Let's get home and shower, yeah?" You nod, a cheeky smile finding its way to your lips at the idea.

[riddled-with-fear]

pshhh lmaooo imagine ACTUALLY being into Leland Coyle 🫵😂😂

LOL imagine him with his hand around your neck and the other prying your mouth open with his fingers on your tongue hahahahaha

Imagine he's blowing smoke right down your throat and him laughing at how your cunt clenches around his cock everytime you cough or gag

LMAOOOOO and imagine how he'd make fun of you for tearing up and sniffling while trying to get him off of you–

...

obviously, that couldn't be me 🧍‍♀️

PFFTTTT imagine being into that! Definitely not me either!🌚

Also, Moth, this is making me so feral. Also, this got really long, really quick! Apologies it took so long to get posted!<3

CW: this is Leland Coyle from The Outlast Trials that in and of itself should be enough of a warning, forced gagging, choking, degrading, dacryphilia, electro-play, forced creampie and EXTREME dubcon.

NSFW under the cut!

You felt the various blood and viscera that covered the police station floor squelch between your bare toes. You almost slipped a few times running on the linoleum tile as you navigated your way back to the shuttles. You could hear the taunting yells of Coyle, dangerously close behind you the entire time.

“I’m gonna teach ya some Goddamn fuckin’ ree-spect for this badge, Ya hear?!”

He was closing in, and he was closing in fast.

The parking garage door came into view, and you sighed in relief. You threw yourself at door, sliding your fingers underneath the lip and began heaving it up.

You could hear the wind up of Coyle’s stun prod, sending electric sparks cracking through the air. It made the hair on your arms stand on end, littering your flesh with goosebumps.

You had evaded him this far, you just had to get under the door. You could practically feel the shuttle button under your fist.

Your arms and legs were shaking, you had exhausted yourself and you had no adrenaline shots left. You slipped. Your hands let go of the door, and it fell back down with a deafening thud.

You stood up, hoping to at least find a hiding spot before Coyle could see you. You just needed a second to regain some strength.

“That WAS MY FUCKIN’ SNITCH!” Coyle roared behind you.

You froze.

“Oh god. Please, no, no no no no.” You looked around but it was too late, Coyle was right in front of you.

“Beg and cry all you want, ain’t nobody Comin’ down here to save ya.” Coyle rested his free hand atop his belt buckle, and gripped his stun prod tight in the other.

You had nothing left. No bricks, no bottles, and you went with a barricade rig this trial. Nothing was going to help you.

“This is what ya get fer interferin’ with police business.”

Coyle placed the end of his stun prod underneath your chin, lifting it upward, forcing you to look at him. He gave you a wicked smile. Before you could so much as glare at him he removed his stun prod, fired it up, and shoved it at your gut shocking you.

You doubled over in agony, and fell to the floor once he removed the stun prod from you.

“Prove to me you ain’t no Commie Shitbird.” He kicked your stomach with his leather boot, flipping you onto your back. “Showin’ papers ain’t gonna cut it neither. Yer gonna have t’prove yer a God-Fearing American another way.”

You groaned at the pain that racked your body, not really paying attention to what Coyle was saying. You felt heavy weight straddle you. You snapped your head forward to see Coyle sitting on top of you.

You kicked your feet uselessly under him, tying to wiggle out from under him. “Let me go! Get! Off!”

Coyle let out a sick chuckle, “Hrm, you can keep beggin’ I think I like that.”

Tears filled your eyes out of fear.

“Aw honey, ya gonna cry? Gonna cry for Ol’ Coyle huh? That’s ok. I like it when they cry.”

You sniffled, trying to hold back your tears. Trying not to give him the satisfaction.

“Go ahead. Go ahead ‘n cry like the pathetic bitch you are.” He chuckled.

“Please! Please let me go!” You tried prying yourself out from under him once more.

“Hmm, alright.” He lifted off of you just enough to let you go.

You rolled onto your stomach, pushing yourself up, when you felt his hands latch onto the waist band of your Murkoff-issued pants, and felt him yank.

Before you could register what had happened, you felt the cold air of the police station hit your exposed ass. A shameful heat crept across your face.

Coyle had you face down, knees spread apart, and ass up on the grimy floor. Your hips being angled upwards giving him a perfect view of your most intimate spots.

Coyle spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, and let out a low whistle as he watched your arousal slowly seeping out of your weeping cunt, dripping down over your clit and collecting in a small puddle underneath you.

“Oooh shit Honey, you are slicker’n fuckin’ sin. Look at that cunt glisten fer me. You must really like me chasin’ ya around, threatnin’ your life! I was ‘fraid I was gonna hafta cut ya and use yer blood for lube! Shit… I still might.”

“No! No that’s not it! That’s not-“ you were cut off by Coyle grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back.

Coyle yanked your pants off the rest of the way, and undid his belt. He gave you another wicked grin as he undid his own pants, pulling out his erect cock. He gave himself a quick pump. Coyle grabbed your throat, pinning you to the cold floor. He lined himself up and brutally thrust into you.

You screamed at the stretch, and the way his cock stabbed into your cervix. Coyle’s moans and laughter filled your ears. The grip on your throat became tighter.

Coyle’s hips were flush with yours. He leaned over you and with his free hand, he pryed your mouth open, roughly shoving two fingers in. You could taste the blood, the grime, and a hint of leather on his fingers as they slid over your tongue.

He shoved his fingers further, pushing them down your throat, his knuckles scraping on your teeth. You sputtered and gagged around them, causing your abdomen to contract, your cunt squeezing his cock.

“Oh, shit, honey. You like that?” He removed his fingers allowing you to suck in a breath before he did it again. “Hrrm, yer cunt seems to like it. Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good.”

“Open that purty mouth, honey.” Coyle gripped your throat as he yanked your mouth open, and blew his cigarette smoke into you. You gagged at the stale tobacco hitting your tongue and swirling at the back of your throat. Again, your gags and coughing caused your cunt to squeeze Coyle’s cock.

He laughs again, “what a filthy whore. If I didn’t know any better, I’d mistake ya fer one O’ that little mutant’s girls.”

Harshly kissing you, he forces his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the taste of you and the smoke.

“Fuckin’ delicious, Sugar.” He let out a low chuckle

Your tears were running down the sides of your face now.

Coyle tightens his grip on your throat, picking up the pace in which he thrusts into you. His fingers find their way into your mouth again, stuffing your throat. You feebly attempt to move your head side to side in hopes to get him to remove his fingers, but he only moans at your pathetic attempts.

“I jus’ love those little noises yer makin’ fer me.” He removed his fingers from your mouth, and quickly shoved them down your throat again getting you to gag loudly once more.

He finally relented his assault on your throat, and moved to pick up his stun prod. Your eyes widened in fear as you heard the electric whine of the battery.

Coyle pressed the sharp prongs of his stun prod against your ribs and turned it on, sending white-hot shocks throughout your nerves. You clenched your jaw, your muscles seized up. Coyle revelled in how tight your cunt got.

“Shit Honey, you just get tighter and tighter with every-“ he sent another shock through you, your cunt squeezed his cock, “-zap!”

“I.. I can’t… Can’t ta- take anymore… plea-ease…” You pathetically begged for him to ease up on the shocks.

“You WILL take what I GIVE!” He shocked you again.

Tears spilled down your bloodied and dirt covered face.

“Ungrateful little bitch. Sexy little bitch, but fuckin’ ungrateful.”

Coyle moved the stun prod to your clit, shocking you and himself. You screamed at the prod burning your more intimate parts. Coyle, however, let out a guttural moan.

“Should I replace my cock with the stun baton? Shove it so deep into your cunt it fries your womb? Huh?” Coyle’s thrusts became erratic, “maybe I should, after I fill ‘er up.”

“No! N-no, no please!” You sobbed.

“Hrngh—fuck— yer gettin’ filled either way.”

Despite the harsh fucking you were receiving, your arousal was undeniable. The pleasure you felt was prevalent. The white-hot coil behind your navel was beyond tight and ready to snap.

Coyle thrust into you a few more times before sealing the tip of his cock to your cervix. He tossed his head back and let out a deafening moan as he filled your cunt with his hot, thick spunk. You came right after at the feeling. The coil behind your navel snapped so violently you cried. Pleasure washed over you in a way you’ve never felt it before.

“You jus’ may be my favorite little toy Easterman’s sent me.” He removed his soaked cock from your overflowing cunt. “Go on, get back and rest up for the next time.”

Coyle made himself decent and left you alone, sitting in your own sweat, tears, and a puddle of his cum.

You slowly pulled your pants back on, finally opened the garage door, and made your way back to shuttles.

[viennajoell]

First Round, First Touch

Summary: Draft night’s over and Gabe only has eyes, hands, and time for you.

Word count: 831

Warnings: explicit content, smut, consensual adult relationship, adult themes.

Gabe leans back against it, hands still trembling slightly from the draft, from the crowd, from the hours of anticipation. The top two buttons of his dress shirt are already undone, his tie pulled loose, his cheeks flushed with an exhilaration that hasn’t yet had a chance to settle.

“You did it,” you whisper, crossing the room to him.

His hands find your waist before you can say another word, pulling you close. “We did it,” he breathes into your hair, voice husky with emotion. “God, I kept looking for you in the crowd.”

“I never took my eyes off you,” you reply, hands sliding up his chest. “First round. Just like I knew you would.”

He grins, eyes searching yours as if still trying to believe it. “I kept telling myself to play it cool up there, but all I could think about was getting back here with you.”

Your lips curve. “That eager?”

“More than eager,” he says and there’s a new edge to his voice that sends heat up your spine.

Before you can respond, Gabe’s hands tighten at your waist and he’s kissing you deep and unhurried, as if making up for all the minutes spent apart. His hands trail up your back, fingers curling into your dress like he can’t wait to touch more of you.

“You looked so gorgeous tonight,” he murmurs between kisses, lips brushing your cheek, then your neck. “All I could see was you.”

Your breath catches as his mouth finds that spot beneath your ear, teeth grazing your skin. “And now you’ve got me,” you whisper, threading your fingers into his hair.

That’s all the invitation he needs. Gabe scoops you up, carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing, and settles you gently onto the bed.

“You’re everything,” he says, hands already tugging at the zipper of your dress. “Every goal, every game, every damn moment I was thinking about you.”

Your dress falls to the floor and you help him shrug off his shirt before pulling him down to you. The weight of him is perfect strong, warm, entirely focused on you.

“You have me,” you assure him, breath hitching as his hands smooth over your bare skin.

“Good,” Gabe breathes. “Because tonight, I’m not sharing.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, his mouth tasting like champagne and adrenaline. Every careful touch and whispered word sends shivers across your body.

“You feel so good,” he groans against your lips as he settles between your legs. “I need you so bad.”

“You have me,” you moan back, lifting your hips into him. “I’m all yours.”

And then there’s nothing left to wait for.

He moves into you slowly at first, savoring the way you fit together, his hands trembling against your skin as if this is the most important part of the night.

“You okay?” he asks, voice rough and caring all at once.

“More than okay,” you breathe, lips brushing his as you meet his rhythm.

He groans at that low and raw and you feel him deepen his thrusts, one hand gripping yours against the sheets.

“God,” he whispers into your ear, kissing along your jaw, “I never thought winning could feel like this.”

Your breath catches as heat pools in your belly. “You’re so good, Gabe. Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

He keeps you there, wrapped up together, moving as one until you’re trembling and crying his name his hands holding you steady as you come undone.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin when you finally catch your breath. “More than anything.”

“I love you,” you reply, hands stroking his back, lips pressing to his shoulder. “More than tonight. More than all of this.”

He smiles into your hair, hands still tracing idle patterns along your spine as you lie tangled together in the quiet dark.

[filthygalli]

Ruined

Oneshot: Fem! Reader x Choi Mu-Jin

Main Masterlist

PHS Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, Overstimulation, slight daddy kink, Age gap, p n v, creampie, Not proofread, might be some grammatical errors.

Word Count: 1071

Last night was a blur, you remember going home with some middle aged man, tall, has a dark aura around him, eyes glaring at you like you’re the only person that existed.

You screamed his name, so loud that it echoed around his penthouse, you begged, legs shaking, eyes rolling from the back of your head, but that man didn’t stop. He fucked you like he needed you to live, he made you cum and squirted around his length repeatedly. He marked your skin, sucking it—leaving purple marks on your soft skin that is now ruined by him. He grabbed your neck, enough to make you give your attention to him as he growled in your ear, “Mine.” While he grabbed your hip with his other hand, ramming it to meet his deep and hard thrust.

You woke up feeling sore, the marks from last night bloomed beautifully on your skin, still naked—you try to find your clothes but you couldn’t, the only clothes you can find are his clothes, whatever that guy's name is. You put on his gray button up shirt that turned into a dress for you. You looked at the man sleeping on the bed, he’s sleeping peacefully on his stomach, he looked handsome and hot. You try to find your belongings but you can’t seem to find them, “fuck, where the hell is my purse?” You muttered quietly to yourself, as you went out of the bedroom, looking around at the luxurious penthouse, you yawned as you walked through the kitchen, you still feel sore and sleepy, you started to brew some coffee, not knowing there’s someone looking at you from the back. His clothes clung on your body perfectly, how every bend and move you do, a glimpse of your ass shows.

“Enjoying yourself much, Sweetheart?” A voice startled you, “shit–! You almost dropped the coffee, “I didn’t mean to–“ you looked at him, slowly walking towards you, his gaze trailing on your body from head to toe, your breath hitched as he leaned down on your shoulder, kissing the exposed skin, “You’re incredible last night, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a soft skin on your shoulder as his fingers played on the button of your shirt, “So tight too.” He said as he kissed your cheek before bringing his head up, still looking down at you—smirking. “I- i don't remember anything..” the man in front of you chuckled, “Of course you don’t, sweetheart, i just fucked your brains out.” He mocked as he cupped your chin with his thumb, you looked up at him, eyes glaring up at him innocently, “I..I don’t know who you are, or how did i get here…” you confessed, his eyes grew darker, “Let me remind you.” He growled as he picked you up, before settling you down on the kitchen counter.

He kissed you like his life depends on it, tongues clashing on each other’s mouths, savoring the taste of last night’s sin. He bit your lower lip as he undressed you, exposing your naked skin, “So pretty for me.” He said before cupping one of your breasts as he sucks it harshly, you threw your head back, moaning as he flicked his tongue on the hard nub of your breast, while his other hand pinched your nipple between his digits.

“Bend over for me, sweetheart.” He commanded, voice soft, you did as you told as you bend over from the kitchen counter, the man behind you smirked as he slapped your ass harshly, the flesh bounced on his palm, you looked at him from behind, he pulled down his gray sweatpants, his cock stood proudly as it hit his abdomen, “you may not remember what happened,” he muttered leaning down on your ear, “but this,” he said as he grabbed his cock, teasing it on your entrance, “this pretty thing have already memorized each vein on my cock.” He muttered as he roughly puts his cock inside your entrance, you choked a moan, “Still so tight around me sweetheart, so fucking tight.” He confessed as he hold onto your hips as he rammed into you, not wasting any moment to let you adjust to his size.

You couldn’t breathe, his rough, too rough for you, choking you as he fucked you behind, pressing your face on the surface as you moaned for him, “Say my name, sweetheart, tell me how much you want me to fill this pussy up.” He growled before leaning down on your ear, you looked at him from behind, eyes filled with tears as he pulled out an another orgasm from you, “Say ‘Thank you, mujin for making me cum’ “ he teased, you opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t you’re too lost in the sensation, “I-“ He fucked you harder, “Say it.” He commanded, “Th- Thank you! Thank you Mujin– for- ah! Making me cum!” You screamed as your eyes hit the back of your head, “that’s it sweetheart, moan my name like you own it.” You couldn’t breathe anymore, he’s fucking you way too good, way too dep. “Mujin– please–“ you begged, “Please what, sweetheart?” He looked down on you, not even letting you breathe, the tip of his cock repeatedly hit your spot making you see stars, “Too much–“ you manage to say, “Hold on for me, sweetheart, daddy’s close.” He said as he kissed your forehead, “Look at me. No blinking.” He commanded, your voice sounds nervous but obedient, “Yes-“ “Good girl, you’re mine. Every inch.” He breathed out, hips still thrusting into you, “Yes, sir.” You moaned “You’ll learn that resistance only makes this sweeter, I'll break you down slowly, till you crave for my touch like air.” He grunted—nails digging deep on your hips, “Fuck–“ he growled, feeling himself getting closer, “Beg for my cum, sweetheart,” he said as he titled his head eyes never leaving yours, “Need your cum, please–mujin–!” You cried out, “That’s a good girl, fucking take my cum–“ he growled as he spilled into you, thrusting his hips slowly as he emptied himself, filli you up with his seed, you feel overstimulated, your walls still clenching around him, he slowly pulled himself out, he watched how the mixture of his and you cum drips out of your pussy lips like a sinful river, he smirked down at you, admiring his little creation on how he ruined you.

“So pretty when you’re ruined.”

[criminalyapping]

overwhelming

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: melissa king x f!reader

a/n: hey friends back with more mel!! my angel my favorite and I love her so much and here you go. this took me way too long to write lol and it’s not even that long

warnings: listen it’s pure filth (MDNI!!) oral f! giving and receiving

thanks to this ask so everyone go thank @hatughsea for the content 👏👏

Looking up at Mel through your eyelashes might just be your favorite view in the world.

Her hair undone, falling in tangled waves across her pillow from her thrashing. Her head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut but mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Cheeks flushed with sweat just starting to bead along her hairline.

If you were an artist you would call her your muse and paint her like this, maybe even hang it up on the wall.

The dim light of the lamp on her bedside table slants over her skin, illuminating the room but leaving it cozy, colors muted and atmosphere comforting.

You love this. You love being able to sit back on your knees, leant down with the privilege of having your mouth and hands all over her.

Running over her soft thighs, her hips, her stomach, her belly button; all of it.

Your mouth is wide open, tongue out and tracing clumsy, broad strokes from between her legs. The mixture of your own saliva and the wetness seeping from her combines to a heady, slick mess that you’re all to eager to drink straight from the source.

Mel’s hand comes down on the top of your head. Not pushing, not moving, just holding your head there and feeling the texture of your hair on her finger tips.

She looks down at you and you make electric eye contact with her as your mouth continues its mission. The holds there for a second, then throws her head back again, as if seeing your eyes was too much for her.

Her thighs tense and move to shut before facing the barrier of you, brushing against your ears before she pries them back open for you.

Mel’s quiet, and always has been. Her sounds reduced to small mewls, gasps sucked in through her teeth, and choked groans.

“Okay, oka- mmm,” she groans out. Her hand wrapping just a little tighter around the strands of hair in her grasp.

“I’m- I’m all done, it’s too-“ she chokes out, “too much.”

You give her one last lick, collecting as much as you can, before you pull back, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Your hands settle on her knees as she shuts them. Mel has her arm thrown over her face as she too pulls in deep breaths.

“Sorry, sorry, I-“ she starts.

“No sorry,” you pant, “it’s okay.” you assure her. You’re not sure how to relay to her that any moment you get to have your hands on her is a gift to you. “Sorry I took so long.” you apologize.

Mel likes it fast. As much as she would love a long, lazy ritual that ends with her gasping and shaking, if it goes on for too long she asks you to stop. She’s told you about it before, how the feeling turns slowly from pleasure to overwhelming.

Sometimes you can get her all the way to the finish line, working fast and furious in the ways you know she likes but sometimes, like today, it just doesn’t happen. And that’s okay.

“No, no sorry,” she says, parroting your words back to you. You lean forward and lay yourself down next to her, an arm thrown over her bare chest, still struggling to catch a breath.

She closes the distance between you and catches your lips, tongue immediately sliding along yours. You groan into her mouth as she pushes herself up and over you slightly, your hands sliding down the soft skin of her stomach, just feeling.

“My turn?” she asks, sliding her lips down the slope of your neck.

“If you- mmm,” you groan as her hands find their way to your tits, squeezing one in each hand. “If you want,” you agree.

“Of course I want,” she laughs.

As much as you love going down on her, she might love going down on you even more.

She shifts herself down, situating herself between your legs. As she moves, you wonder which Mel you’re getting today; fast, deliberate, and determined Mel, or slow, sensual, and teasing Mel. Both are good. Both are great.

Mel grins as she looks up at you, a wicked gleam in her eyes. She dives in, the feel of her mouth on you immediately punching all of the air out of your lungs. Okay, fast and deliberate Mel it is.

In just seconds, you’re gasping, hips moving involuntarily as she sets her mouth to work with single-minded determination.

While she might get overwhelmed by receiving, she never gets overwhelmed by giving. Looking down at her now, her eyes closed in focus and a blissful expression on her face, you can tell you’re going to be here a while. Not like you’re complaining.

tagging: @celiacallsitcausal

[buckysgirl27]

Becoming Mrs. Barnes

Part 1 ~ Prologue

Masterlist

Summary: Bucky is always watching you. He has to. You're too soft. Too delicate. One wrong move and you'll break. But one day his obsession will get the best of him. After all, he can't run from his past forever.

Trigger warning: Stalker Bucky, swearing, Cassandra (Original Character)

AN: I've been reading a lot of dark romance lately so that's where this baby was born from.

Cassandra

It’s like they say when you go into the forest, if you can’t hear the sounds of animals around and it’s suddenly so quiet you can hear your heart beating in your chest while hardly moving a muscle, then something is wrong. Turn around. Get out of there. You’re not alone. Something bigger than you is watching you.

Well, that’s exactly what it felt like everyday since I started working in The Watchtower. Everyone was kind. Despite their chaotic and debatable monstrous history. I never felt out of place. Until I was in the same room as him. James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier. A ghost story in the flesh. He didn’t say much. Just the occasional nod and grunt in agreement. He was difficult to read, and that was annoying because it was something I prided myself on. Being able to read people. I called it my super power. Clearly it wasn’t a real one otherwise he wouldn’t be so difficult to pin down.

I walked into the shared common area, glad to escape a briefing from the tech team. They were definitely the most boring meetings that I had to attend on a daily basis. The first thing I felt was my hair prickling at the back of my neck. And then his eyes. I’d recognise his eyes trained on me in a room full of people. He was beautiful, and terrifying all at once. His presence made my heart stutter for a brief moment. 

I headed towards the fridge and stared at the contents for a moment then after what felt like ages, I finally settled on a water bottle. I grabbed two, to offer him one, but when I turned around no one was there. 

“Must be losing my damn mind.” I muttered to myself.

But he was there, I knew it, lurking somewhere. Waiting for me to give in.

Bucky

She was just grabbing a goddamn water bottle and here I am watching her like some kind of creep. I’m an old man. I shouldn’t be watching her like this. She should have a life right? I rolled my eyes at myself. Of course she can have her own life. As long as I’m there. Watching her. Protecting her. Keeping her safe from all the horrors out there.

She thinks she has an idea of how bad it can be just because she works here. She doesn’t. She’s barely on the tech team. She doesn’t even whisper instructions to us in the comms during missions. She knows nothing of what really happens. That’s good. That’s safe.

It’s better that way.

I noticed her intake of breath right before she shut the fridge door. She knew I was there. Good. She knew she was safe.  I slipped back out of the room, unheard. 

I turned on my heels and barely made it to the elevator before I ran into my least favorite person in The Watchtower. John fucking Walker.

“Following her around again Barnes? You know that’s weird right? Just ask her out man.” He so eloquently informed me.

I glared at him in response and jammed my finger into the elevator call button. Praying that he’d go away by the time the elevator got there. I had no such luck.

“I mean really man. I know it’s been like 100 years since you went on a date but seriously man. You can’t stalk a chick.”

I jerked my head to him.

“I’ll take dating advice from someone who didn’t murder someone in cold blood and then got their child taken away from them because their ex-wife hates them. Thank you very much.” I ground out, fists clenched at my side.

Before he had a chance to protest about how unfair my statement was, the elevator arrived and I got on, making sure to be the bigger person and flip him off after I hit the button of the floor I was headed to.

He shook his head at me and walked off.

John. Fucking. Walker.

I don’t need dating advice from that dick. She’ll notice me in her own time.

[wildsaltair]

I will need 3-5 business days to catch my breath from this picture

[the-acid-pear]

Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

[yappacadaver]

LETS GO PLAY VALORANT IM ABT TO EARN MY VERY FIRST KNIFE SKIN :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Good enough

Tags: Caleb x fem!Reader, smut, unprotected angry sex, Caleb’s back and he’s jealous, breeding kink, mdni, not proofread sorry, this shit is NASTY i fear.

An: This one is for a dear friend of mine 🙂‍↕️ Thanks for making me pull out of my writer’s block. LOOK i’m so sorry if this is bad but i had to write SOMETHING to pull me out of this funk… i hope you all enjoy

How did you end up trapped underneath your half-cyborg best friend who was legally deceased while taking the meanest deep strokes of your life? Well, there’s a simple answer. Caleb knew Xavier was home.

Actually, he knew everything: the dates, the tender moments, the secret times, the nightly rendezvous. Pissed was an understatement.

Had you forgotten? Had you forgotten all the promises you two made each other when you were younger? Had you forgotten that you were fucking made for him? You had to have. That’s why you were stringing along 4 different guys. You were trying to fill a hole that only he could fill.

That had to be why.

Regardless, Caleb knew Xavier was the type to listen to you through the floorboards of his upstairs apartment. He was a lot alike Caleb in that sort of manner. They were both possessive freaks who couldn’t stand the thought of you being with somebody else.

That’s why Caleb was fucking you so hard — pounding your pretty pussy so deeply into the mattress that you were seeing stars with each mean thrust.

He used his size to his advantage. It was fitting. He’d always loved how much bigger he was than you. That’s how you received your adorned nickname: pipsqueak.

He planned on his first time with you being a lot more gentle than this. He planned on being sweet and loving. He planned on cherishing your body the way you deserve, but you just had to go and give yourself to 4 other guys before him.

“Stop crying.” His voice rumbled as his piercing gaze found yours — so much different than the sweet childhood friend you had. His hand covered your mouth as he hunched over your figure, still ramming his cock head into you ruthlessly. “I know you can take it. I’ve watched you take it before.”

Your eyes blinked back tears as you looked up at him. He was being so mean. You couldn’t believe this was the same doting Caleb that you grew up with, and you didn’t even want to think about the face he had been watching you…

“Fucking pussy’s made for me, and you’ve been letting other men try to make her feel good.” He growled as he used his less-than-human arm reach down and gently rub against your small button of nerves.

“Caleb-!” You choked out as your body writhed beneath him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock splitting you apart, making you wholly his and his alone.

“That’s right… Say my name, baby. Tell me who’s making you feel so good.” He prompted with a confident smirk before he hauled your legs up above his shoulders, sinking even deeper into your dripping cunt.

Clawing at the bed, your back arched as you tried to cope with the intrusion. He’s so fucking deep it feels like you’re going to choke on him. “Caleb-“ You sob as your cunt pitifully clenches around him.

Feeling you wrapped around him so sweetly, crying out his name as you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure has Caleb revitalized with a new vigor. His hips work in tight circles, pumping his fat cock in and out of you as your cunt makes the most obscene squelching noises he’s ever heard.

“Such a fucking noisy girl. I should’ve know you were going to be a crybaby.” He teased before placing open mouth kisses along your neck snd shoulder.

“W-wait Caleb- calebcalebcaleb. I’m gonna..” You pant out nervously as his metal fingers were still rubbing languid circled around your cunt, and his tip was smooshing globs of precum against your cervix.

His fingers suddenly pinch down on your clit, making you cry out from the sensation. Your body went taut as you were being dangled on the edge of pleasure. His robotic arm wasn’t quite letting you get there.

You thought his arm was literally malfunctioning until you heard him chuckle from your suffering.

“You’re going to cum when I saw you can, okay baby?” He asked in that same condescending tone he always used when you two were younger.

His hips continued to roll after he was sure that you weren’t going to fall off the deep end, and he let out deep guttural groans, feeling your pretty pussy soak him. It was like you were practically trying to suck him in. He couldn’t believe he had waited this long to sink into your cunt like this.

and the best part about it was he knew your stupid upstairs neighbor was listening! Xavier knew you were down here getting railed, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Hell, if he even tried, Caleb would use his evol and force him kneel beside the bed as he drilled you even harder.

Fuck, the thought of slutting you out in front of every single one of your little boyfriends had his stomach tightening. His hips snapped forward into you with a pace that could only be described as feral.

You were a complete babbling mess at this point — utterly cock drunk as Caleb had you folded in half, filling you up to the brim with his length.

“Ohhh, that’s my girl.” He purred as he saw your glossed over look. “It’s coming, baby. I’m going to give you want you need.” He promised as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that completely contradicted the ruthless way his hips were rutting into you.

“C-caleb- Caleb no, wait.. Don’t cum inside-“ You stuttered out in a panic. You hadn’t been by the pharmacy yet to pick up birth control, so technically, this was all unprotected.

“Why?” He growled as his back curled over. He was fucking mounting you while holding your thighs in the prettiest mating press he’d ever seen. “You fucking let them fill you up. Am I not good enough to breed this pussy?”

His hips slammed into you. It felt like he was trying to push his way straight into your womb. It was mind-numbing pleasure, making black orbs and stars dance across your vision.

“Look at me, baby.” He ordered, dragging your face to look back up at him. You could barely see straight. It was all too much. “You’re going to let your best friend breed you, and you’re gonna fucking love it. You’re going to cum all over this fat cock until you can’t breathe. Understand?”

You dumbly nodded your head, halfway hearing his words. Your pussy was aching to cum. Your swollen puffy folds were greedily accepting him in with every thrust. You wanted this. Birth control be damned. Everyone else be damned.

Caleb gritted his teeth together as he gave you a few more good harsh thrusts for good measure. He then crushed his body against yours, burying himself all the way to your womb before his cock started to jerk and pulse inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his thick potent cum. The only thing on his mind was the need to see you, his childhood best friend, round with his baby.

He needed to see the look on each other of those pricks’ faces when they realized you were spoken for.

The cherry on top was when he felt your walls clenching around him, happily milking his cock for everything he had while you sobbed and hiccuped his name. It seemed like his childhood best friend was maybe just as twisted as he was. He’d have to give her an extra good reward for being such a good girl.

As the room went still and quiet — only filled with shared breaths and pants for air, the sound of someone stabbing a sword through the ceiling was heard, and Caleb chuckled deeply. He had definitely pissed Xavier off.

[tonycries]

The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 

Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 

Everything. 

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss. 

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 

Everything. 

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you. 

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew. 

You’d kissed him back. 

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 

What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh. 

Shit. 

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck. 

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused. 

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there. 

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru. 

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you. 

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 

Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[eraserbread]

satoru gets nanami drunk after an especially long mission, and leaves u to deal with his neediness :(( poor baby

nanami comes back home and you're laying on your side in bed, asleep, but jolted awake at the sound of the distant front door. the nightstand clock tells you it's a few minutes to midnight, and nanami always clocked out at 6.

typically.

he doesn't hesitate finding his way to you, understanding that if you're not waiting up for him, you'd be asleep. and, he was right. except, you're sitting up, blinking sleep away when he pushes open the door.

you can tell he's not all there - it takes him a second to catch his footing and notice you watching him.

"you weren't waitin' for me." he's slurring his words ever so slightly, letting them melt into each other. "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing." you whisper, giving him your sweetest, softest tone. "come on and come to bed, baby." you nod him forward, not like he could see you well with the lights on. you really didn't want to get out of bed - already wrapped nicely in your sleep clothes and content where you are.

seems kento has other ideas. he flicks on the light and leaves you to bear the harshness. you cover a palm over your eyes, hissing under your breath.

"really?" you whine, rubbing the assault from your droopy lids as he walks to the bed.

"somethin' wrong?"

you bite your lip, wanting to tell him to fuck off but extremely wary. you don't think he's been in such a state in... years, now that you're thinking about it.

"you weren't there... so i gotta- i have to take this off all myself."

you squint trying to make out what he's saying, but he's trying to toe off his shoes, stumbling in the process but catching himself pretty quickly. tomorrow, you'd scold him to hell for tracking them into your bedroom. tonight, you don't care. you just want him next to you.

but, it is annoying being woken up and forced to watch kento try and take off his shoes. "just take your shoes off and come to bed."

"did i tell you, that soup you made last night... fantastic." he mutters lazily, slipping into bed with his shoes still on. if he was sober, he'd see your eye twitch manically. he's so fucking stubborn.

but, he's being sweet ...kinda? right now, so you swallow that irritation and lean into him. like always, you start at the button at his neck, flicking it loose and moving down to his tie. it's been loosened already, making it easier to pull and slide off. under your busy fingers, nanami lays back on his propped arm, eyes shut.

so spoiled...

"shoes, ken." you so helpfully, sweetly remind him. to no fucking avail. instead, he leans into your exposed collarbone and starts kissing you. it's a specific kiss - a kiss that means 'this won't end anytime soon'

though you roll your eyes, you let him. your body is so fucking used to this, now, that all it takes is his shaky hand on your thigh to get you going.

and, you're going. you crane your neck for him, swallowing down want as his clumsy lips take to you like a cat drinking milk. he's stuck there -- fixated and happy lapping little love marks into your skin with a hand fiddling at the crotch of his work pants. he's restrained by a belt, two buttons, and a zipper, and his drunken state couldn't fathom undoing it all.

the first moan you give him has him pulling away, blinking up at you with reddened eyes.

so, he looks at you and asks - no, tells you. "help?"

and you fold.

his shoes still on and all, you climb over his lap, scooting down just enough to tug and pull at his belt. you're sitting just under his beaming erection, giving it a little push when you pull open his zipper. under you, he's covering his red face with his hand, moaning from your touch and presence alone. it's obscene - uncharacteristic. you love it.

"so pretty... pretty n soft... pretty, too. can't look at you or I'll wet my pants."

"you're crazy," you mumble, pulling his arm from his face and bringing it to yours to slip his finger between your lips. he gets the hint, taking control of his arm as he strokes over your chin, letting your fingers work your silk shirt away around your back.

he's dragging across the jagged edge of your teeth, pressing into your canines just to feel a bit of pain. if he opened his eyes, he'd short circuit, luckily he opens them as soon as you're dropping your shirt. then, you're showing all of you to all of him, and he can't do anything else but slap another hand over his eyes, whining dejectedly and blushed to the core.

"kento, look at me," you deadpan, tired enough to just roll over and sleep, but intrigued enough to keep pushing him.

"so hot."

you claw at his thick hand, nearly begging for his eyes to take you hostage. "hey."

"please... suck it..." he mutters, then stuffs his teeth with his fist, seething out sharp breaths as your fingertips find his skin just over his waistband. the request takes you back.

"you stopped when we got married... always wanted to ask you why but... please..."

you don't speak, you can feel more wet words on his tongue that you know he wants to say.

"please, baby girl... please, doll... the second I wake up 'm gonna buy you that silver necklace with my initial you've been wantin'... or I've been wantin' for you. just kiss 'm, please. so good..."

you have no idea what's he's going on about, but you like the sound of it. you like the sound of your nicknames twirling off his smooth, drunken tongue. so, you lean down to kiss them away, tasting the tang of drink on his supple skin.

he kisses you back just as eagerly, groping your chest in his hand as if it'd bring him down to earth again.

"i stopped because i don't think i'm very good at it." you laugh, taking it upon yourself to sit up and tug his briefs down past his hips. he's a mess - work clothes falling off the bone and you all over his face. he tastes like your chapstick now, and you catch little kitten licks poking from his lips just to study it.

"just kiss him like you're kissin' me."

then, you grab the base of his flushed cock, and he arches his back, a dramatic, uneasy 'ah-' coming from his throat. that really takes you aback - you've never heard such a noise come from your insanely composed spouse.

"don't... give it pronouns, weirdo."

"well, 's not a she."

and for the first time ever, you find yourself pressing your palm to his lips to shut him up. then, kissing over your knuckles, you watch his striking hazel eyes shiver and fall shut. you're so fucking in love it's crazy.

then you give him what he wants.

even though it feels unfamiliar, you drop your head, fist working his happy, dripping erection into oblivion as he whines and cries for you. it's when your lips kiss over the head, focusing your tongue in the slight dip, he cums. all over your face.

you're definitely taken aback, letting him have his moment, but you're so flushed and kinda agitated, yet always in love with him. he's a shaking, crying mess -- actually, crying tears. it's absurd. you'd remember this moment long after you've died.

even covered in cum, he still pulls you back, attacking your lips in a hot kiss you're not prepared for. seems like that release has him coming back to himself, because the grip he has on the back of your neck is not nice. you wouldn't be surprised, and you wouldn't mind, if you saw a bruise there in the morning.

when he comes to his senses, he pins you down face first into the mattress, kissing all over your neck and back as he fucks you lazily. he's so slow, it's serene. you can feel every dip of his cock, every vein as it drags against your sensitive, spasming walls. you both are so wet, begging for more, begging for each other.

it's how he makes you cum for him, with his sloppy, lazy ass thrusts and the wet kisses he leaves on your stained skin. there's cum drenched in these bedsheets, and if you weren't so fucked out and tired, you'd kick him out and call him inconsiderate.

tonight, you don't care. you fall asleep tucked under your man, barely able to breathe, let alone move. he'd suffocate you, at this rate.

but,

you don't care...

read part 2? <3

[g-k444]

okayy so what about free-use trains? free-use Ubers? free-use transport?

You order your uber and it comes to you with a freshly needy slut on her knees with a collar around her neck and chain binding her to the backseat where you can do as you please to her as you commute from place to place.

Perfect, right?

Well, perfect for you at least - not for me. I'm a working woman. I have a job I need to get to and when it just so happens to be an early 7am morning, so what if I accidentally type the last number of the cab service wrong?

the line should go dead, i should look down and reread the number and realise that ive typed it out wrong and correct it and properly order my transport.

what shouldn't happen, is for an uber to be placed regardless - and for when i enter the vehicle, there to be a chain and collar snapped open on the floor of the uber.

i realise my mistake as soon as i step in - i accidentally ordered one of those horny fuck-taxis instead of my normal cab to work - but it's too late to back out and reorder my cab as the driver speeds off without asking for my destination. S'pose he just remembered it from the phone call.

but no.

instead he pulled up outside a block of flats, and the door i sat besides was opened as a man entered and frowned.

why's she sat on the seat? that's not very obedient - is your quality dropping? And why is she not collared up?

my own look of confusion was slowly replaced with horror as i realised that both the driver and passenger thought that i was a... worker.

i stuttered to correct the man's misinterpretation, but before i could get the words out, he had slapped me around my face, shocking the words out of my mouth as i was dropped to the larger-than-average footwell.

and then all control was out of my hands as the man's hand wrapped around my neck and forced me onto the ground, struggling against my wriggling and helpless body that screamed for help as he snapped the collar around my neck - binding me to the godforsaken taxi as a slut for his helping

my breaths came out fragmented and i could feel tears pooling in my eyes in horror at what was happening - what he was doing.

His arms wrestled with my blouse, not caring to undo the buttons of my delicate white dress shirt - instead ripping them open like a box of biscuits, pulling my decency away from me and leaving my heaving breasts in nothing but a bra that swayed to accustom my bust as the car turned a corner.

his cock came out then, as he used my neck to push me and hold me on my back, his fingers pushing against my clit through a pair of tights and panties - pulling the both of them off and to the side before plunging his cock into my pussy without any lube - forcing a scream from my throat as me began shagging me against the car floor, nudging my nipple into view from behind my bra before his cold breath enveloped the bud and began playing with it

he leaves almost perfectly in time for him to reach his release - cumming inside my pussy whilst i still cried and covered my face with hands - however i felt no relief as another man entered the back of the car, with his cock already released and swinging like a weapon between his two legs as he shut the door behind him with a wide grin at the "office worker themed wear" i seemed to kinkily sport.

and this man seemed to think that my cries and pleads for helps and screams and weak pushes to get him off me were-

Wow! You really like cnc huh, more of your sluts should do this gig!

After multiple men - multiple rounds - multiple cumshots that left my skirt wet and stomach twisted, the car stopped and no man entered the car... and even the collar unlatched from around my neck!

i couldn't believe it... was i free?

i didn't give myself a chance to second doubt myself.

i pushed myself out of the car despite my weakness, my eyes adjusting to the brightness of the world i was thrust into outside of the cab- realising i was outside my work building!

a shiver ran through my body as the cool wind seemed to illuminate the hot trickle of liquid down my leg, and as i looked down i realised that there was cum leaking from my pussy.

blushing and realising i was in public like a wreck, i hurried into the building just as i heard the bell going off - indicating the midday break...

i ran to find the nearest toilet as the rumble of feet comign down stairs became louder - finally finding a WC sign on a door and launching myself through it - breathing a sigh of relief as i found a safeplace to open my eyes and look into the mirror to see....

fuck. i looked like a fucked out mess. my bra had been flipped on one side so that teh cup was squashed beneath my tit that was free and lay like a pillow against my chest, free of its material constraints - my stomach with white stripes of cum that lead to a wet skirt and more cumstreaks that fell down my thighs and tights.

the door squeaked and i whipped my head around, freezing in shock as i made eye contact with a...

a man. multiple men. coming to use the toilet during their break and freezing in shock at the cum-soaked girl stook half-naked in the middle of the men's toilets

their eyes raked up adn down me and i felt myself turn fearful once more as i noticed their expressions of... hunger.

A squeak left my mouth in shock and pain as both of my tits were grabbed in handfuls by a pair of hands from behind me, pressing up my tits and squeezing them, presenting them to the men that stood in the doorway before i heart a-

"i think we got our lunchtime treat right here, huh?"