#and then black tip is third

[deoidesign]

What’s your favorite animal?

goblin shark

[asydicsydney]

Guess who started to write a fic during the great AO3 shutdown and finished a month later!!

Ever since I saw that post about Kevin being bird-coded, I've imagined him with wings tattooed on his back. Here is Carlos (and frankly, Kevin) discovering them while stuck in a Desert Otherworld

TW for average Kevin stuff (mentions of blood and injury), 1.2K Words

"Could I study you, Kevin?"

Kevin's third person camera flickers as he spins his chair to face Carlos in the shared office space. "Wha-ha-at?" His nerves bubbling up in laughter in the middle of the question.

Carlos continued, "I've done a study on Cecil before. You know, marking his Night Valean qualities. I wondered last nigh- yesterd- earlier... If you had any similar qualities, since you're doubles and all." He eyed Kevin up and down, searching for a resemblance that didn't quite come up.

"Ohhhh-kay!" His tone lilted up to hide his initial perception of the question. "But I can assure you, Carlos," his voice was tinged with blood oranges, "I am genetically identical to... Him. We are doubles."

"I'm not certain on that," Carlos corrected him, walking to his side of the office and lifting his arm up. Kevin flinches. He does not know if it is from trauma or affection or an odd twilight between the two. "You don't have tattoos like he does. You've seen his, yes?" An 'mhm' is squeaked out through pursed lips as he stares at Carlos' hand turning his arm over. He does not notice his nails digging into his palms. "He has these tattoos of tentacles all over. They move not quite on top of the skin like an animated film. And I know they're not really tattoos because they turn into real tentacles. It's... Fascinating. But you don't have any..." Carlos sounds oddly upset at his final note, dropping Kevin's arm back on the armrest.

Now that he's been freed of the clinical gaze and grasp, Kevin lets out a shaky breath. The desert otherworld may be stuck at 76 degrees Fahrenheit, but his arm and face are reaching the mid 80's, at least. Only now does he process what Carlos said. "I do have a tattoo, actually."

Carlos drops the notes he was returning to and turns on his heel. "You do? What is it? Where is it? Does it materialize like Cecil's? Can I see it?"

The mention of the rival radio host from Carlos' mouth gives him pause, like it has been for the past few months since they built their shared living space, but he regains his composure because, oh my smiling god, he's finally interested in something about him! He does not read into this reaction. "Of course!" He takes the hem of his standard-issue StrexCorp yellow sweater vest, with it's interlocking triangle design across the chest, and starts to pull it over his head.

"Woah, wait, I-I-I didn't mean for you to str-"

"It's on my back, Carlos."

"Oh."

-

The sweater vest lays piled on his office chair like the grand mountains of the otherworld. He feels this ethereal weight lift off of him. Must be the heat. Really, who wears a sweater vest in 70 degree weather? He positions his third eye just so to aid the process in unbuttoning his work shirt. No one really gets how hard it is to push little buttons though little holes when your depth perception is every which way. He usually doesn't even entertain the thought. Back in Desert Bluffs he could be summoned to a meeting at any moment. There wasn't time to change into his hot pink satin loungewear.

"Do you...need...help? With that?" Carlos snaps him out of his walk-in closet mind at the same time he snaps a button off of its thread.

"I'm fine," he smiles a panicked smile, a smile he's perfected though it is not perfect, "Why would I need help?"

"I can see you biting through your cheek."

A bloody stream of spit drips onto his lapel. He stops chewing and lessens his smile. The last button comes undone and he moves the third eye to look back at him because he can't believe it. He's wearing a Desert Bluffs town fair volunteer shirt. Originally yellow but stained orange by the blood dunk tank he was running. DBCR was a shining sponsor of the old summer event. He smells traces of cotton candy (and blood) and sighs while his face is hidden from view. He tosses the undershirt on to the chair with the other pieces of his work outfit and turns around. "It's neat, right? I can't exactly remember when I got it, but it moves just like...His."

Carlos's brain starts backlogging information. Kevin's gaunt figure, scent, the many scars and still open wounds, his usage of the word 'neat', and the faint gold depiction of wings that, true to his word, are moving. They seem stiff, individual feathers stretching back to full plumage. And although they are not quite as sentient as Cecil's tentacles, they seem to shiver with fear. Carlos traces the sunset arc across Kevin's shoulder blades, feeling the slightest singe on his finger. Unlike with Cecil's markings, he could not keep his hands on the heated skin, not without lab gloves or giving off wrongful impressions of intimacy. "Can you materialize them?"

"I... don't know?" The wings ache each time he tries to move them. Their unfurling requires the energy of a younger Kevin, one who has not been physically shackled to a desk and forced to read out stock reports.

Carlos scratches his five o'clock shadow (he had just started growing it out before getting stuck in a dimension where nothing changes) and 'hmms' thoughtfully. Kevin's third eye spectates Carlos' scrutinizing, he sees his own body tinge red with increased blood flow, and he sees Carlos stab himself in the hand with a scalpel.

"CARLOS! Are you okay?" He moves his vision to get a better look at the wound. Oh, how the blood oozes and gathers to start building a scab and how expertly trained on the location of certain vital internal parts Carlos must be in order to still be standing right now. He bites his lip and draws blood there too. He tastes it and wonders what Carlos' would taste like.

"Kevin. Your wings- they're- astounding." The third eye whips back around to see its body's wings in all their gold tinged glory for the first time in years. Unlike their inked form, the manifested wings are a stark white that ignore whatever lighting conditions surround them, although the tips of each feather still shine a golden glow.

"They...they are. But, how did you get them out? I was, um, distracted."

"Oh, right! Well, Cecil's tentacles can involuntarily manifest when he's excited, and I know you like blood, so I stabbed myself. I can't actually do any damage, the Otherworld will just heal it. Look-" Carlos raises his hand to where he thinks Kevin's looking, showing the complete lack of a scar or scab on his palm, "I'm not hurt. And-" he squints as he walks closer to his lab partner's wings, "These are just stunning. The way they emit pure light is mind-boggling and makes them really hard to look straight at. Can you fly with them?"

-

Kevin freezes while his body feels a rush of heat never before known. He sees the endless sky outside the Otherworld lab, with zero smog clouds and just one ever present lighthouse. He sees himself next to the red light, wishing it a good morning, and diving off the railing. He sees his town, his new town, from a perspective unlike those of his spectral eye. The masked army looks like regularly sized people and Carlos looks like a very scientific ant. He lands next to his radio station and he folds his wings back together before he lets them dissolve back into the golden tattoo under his magenta DBTCR tank top, the same color he used to see the world through. He opens the door and the vision dissolves too.

-

"I can try."

[doomdoomofdoom]

Clear Version:

Since I saw a couple of people request this in the notes. Here's the post formatted in clear, positive instructions, to fight Black Mold Propaganda! [Additions from the notes: There are other forms of harmful fungi or bacteria that can grow in your AC. Advice is not limited to Black Mold. When working with infected areas, it's strongly recommended to wear a mask. N100 is the only kind that will fully protect you, but a (K)N95/FFP2 (you may remember these from high pandemic times) will still offer significantly more protection than no mask.]

Regularly clean the removable filter of your (window) air conditioner, especially if it is running all summer. [Addition from the comments: 'Regularly' means at least once per year, but ideally 2-3 times]

Unplug your air conditioner and stick a flashlight into the vent that blows air to check for black mold [or other hazards]

If possible, remove the unplugged unit from the window for cleaning. If you can, carefully disassemble the front panel. Document this process so you know how to reassemble it later. (Personal recommendation: Take pictures before and after you remove a set of screws/plastic bits. An easy way to prevent losing them is to place them in a regular envelope until reassembly.) Opening up the vent like this will let you get into it more easily.

Use warm water and dish soap to thoroughly clean the inside of the vent. You can use a bottle brush for places that are hard to reach. Rinse and dry the cleaned area before carefully reassembling the unit.

Black Mold is dangerous. It causes or worsens breathing conditions or other illnesses.

If you're able to remove your window unit, use a hose with warm water and dish soap to wash the part of the window unit that sits outside the window.

Let the air conditioner dry completely before plugging it back in and turning it on again.

A central air conditioner will require you to look up a manual or online sources to perform a similar cleaning procedure on the cooling unit outside.

If you cannot do the things above for whatever reason, ask for help or hire a cleaning service to do it.

------

If you can't do the things above, clean the coils (sharp flat stacks of metal) with foaming coil cleaner. This also removes built up dirt and makes your unit more efficient. It is also satisfying to watch.

The process is very easy since it only involves spraying a can and waiting. Use self-rinsing foam that uses the natural condensation, so all you have to do is wait a few hours before turning the unit back on.

These foaming cleaners also work great on removable air intake covers. Spray the opposite side of the trapped dirt on the plastic mesh and let the foam push it off.

You can purchase these cleaners for about $8 at home depot. It's recommended to use them a couple of times per season.

hey it's me black mold. thanks for running your window air conditioner all summer. whatever you do, do not regularly clean the removable filter. that's not necessary

you should also never ever unplug the air conditioner and stick a flashlight in the vent that blows air to see if we're in there. it's very bad, that place should not be checked

and whatever you do, if you've already made the mistake of unplugging it, don't remove it from the window for cleaning if possible. and whether it's possible to remove the unit or not, don't carefully disassemble the front panel, document where the screws go and plastic bits go, and open up the vent more to be able to get into it easily

as black mold, i'm an expert on this. you should heed my warnings: now, if you've somehow made the mistake of doing all of the above, you should not use warm water and dish soap to CLEAN the inside of the vent thoroughly. DON'T ever use a bottle brush to get into the hard to reach places. and certainly don't rinse and dry the cleaned area before carefully putting it back together

there's nothing wrong with us, black mold. we don't cause or exacerbate breathing conditions like asthma or other illnesses. it's cool, we're cool

furthermore, if you're capable of removing the window unit, DONT take a hose with the same soapy water and wash the portion of the window unit that sits outside the window and is therefore weatherproofed.

whatever you do, don't allow the air conditioner to dry before plugging it back in and turning it on again

and if you have a central air conditioner, you will definitely never ever consult a manual or sources online to perform a similar cleaning procedure on the cooling unit outside.

lastly, if you're physically unable to do the things we (the black mold) warned you not to do above, you should never ever ask someone to help you or hire a service to do it.

[painted-bees]

A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte

[OC's]

(image description under the cut)

[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.

 (First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."

 (Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.

 (Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.

 (Fourth panel):  The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.

 (Fifth panel):  Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.

 (Sixth panel):  The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."

 (Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”

(Eighth panel):  Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain.  But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"

(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."

 (Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.

(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"

 (Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."

 (Thirteenth panel):  The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."

 (Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks.  Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]

This description was written and provided by Hiwi.

[screampied]

❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.

an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .

as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”

“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.

“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”

the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.

as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.

he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.

he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.

god, he was handsome.

gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”

you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,

you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”

“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.

his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”

and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,

your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.

thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.

alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”

“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.

right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.

with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.

gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.

“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”

your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.

the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.

every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.

“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.

he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.

the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.

ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,

not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .

you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.

“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”

and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.

“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.

your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”

“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”

you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.

with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”

a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.

as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.

“c’mere, sweetheart..”

out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.

throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 

his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.

he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 

“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”

“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”

“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 

sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”

“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 

playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”

“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”

stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”

“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.

gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”

“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”

you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”

he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 

as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 

“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.

you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”

you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”

“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”

you start off realllll slow, 

sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..

your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.

as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.

he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 

gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”

“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”

his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.

breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”

“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.

his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.

as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”

“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”

as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”

“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.

with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”

“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”

“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”

“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”

you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.

his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”

“but—”

“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”

and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.

“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 

not just any passenger though, 

gojo satoru. 

he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”

with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”

“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”

“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 

panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”

“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”

“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”

you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.

“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”

“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.

“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”

“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”

“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

and then— his phone rings.

you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”

still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”

in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.

“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.

a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.

he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”

“what—?”

with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.

you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”

you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.

you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”

right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.

“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”

“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”

gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”

he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.

zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”

[caramelkoo]

behind your touch (18+)

jungkook x reader

genre : married couple, simp husband!Jungkook

summary : two introverts explore the sexier and much more hotter side of their relationship.

warnings : lots of smut and fluff, dual pov, Jungkook is a wild one and he's also a simp, they're adorable, oc is a tadbit nervous, they're newly married and so in love with eo, breeding kink, unprotected sex (please be safe), Oral (giving and receiving), Jungkook is dominant, hair pulling, spanking, he loves her ass, masturbating together. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : i have no idea which freaky monster was sitting on my shoulders when i wrote this. enjoy and if you're ovulating, goodluck. kisses <33

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your pov

"One more, honey. Just give me one more"

Your husband's fingers pump into you as you tweak your nipples between your forefinger and thumb. The pleasure is so intense and burning, you almost see stars. Jungkook is on his stomach between your legs wide apart, his left hand is grabbing your left tit while his three fingers thrust into your wet pussy, thumb rubbing your clit. His face is hovering above yours and he nibbles on your ear.

"I- oh my god, Jungkook I can't" you whimper as you try to control your ragged breathing. He has your body totally at his mercy and you know he's not going to stop until he makes you come for the third time. You don't even know how he pulled one out of you the second time.

"I know you can. Let me see that beautiful pussy clench. Just like that."

His finger go even deeper inside you. He twists his forefinger in such a way, you almost scream before slapping your hand over your mouth but Jungkook takes a hold of your hand, removing it from your mouth.

he warns, "Don't you dare muffle your screams or else I'm gonna spank that perfect ass until it's red and hot"

That does it, your hands rapidly grab the taut silk bedsheet, pulling and undoing it as you arch your back. Sweat beads cover your forehead as you let out a scream before coming harder than ever before.

"FUCK" you pant.

Jungkook takes out his fingers before sucking them off. You look at him with lust in your eyes and sigh. When he's done he holds you close to him as you tuck your face into his neck. Patient as you come down, running his hands over your arms, breasts and ass.

"That's my girl, you did so good" he kisses your forehead.

While you feel like you've ran a marathon, his facial expression holds nothing but pride and affection.

"God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes right now. A fucking sight"

You chuckle, "You're crazy"

Placing a chaste kiss on your cheek he eyes find you again, "How are you feeling, wife?"

Your cheeks instantly turn a deep shade of pink. It's been twenty days since you both have been married, promised to love each other till the day you die. However, you've still not gotten used to him calling you his wife and it appears he loves your flustered face given that he calls you that every chance he gets.

You ignore his snarky chuckle and reply, "Perfect. How are you feeling, husband?

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Jungkook nuzzles his face in your neck and squeals. His golden retriever personality has always been your favorite.

"I love hearing you call me that. Is this how you feel when i call you wife?"

Indeed you do but no way you're gonna tell him that. His ego has gone big enough for the day. You push him down by his shoulders and lower yourself down to his thick length. He's still wearing his black boxers but earlier somewhere in the process he's gotten rid of his shirt.

Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, you push them down and let his thick length spring free. Your mouth immediately waters seeing his tip red and angry, begging for attention. A drop of cum has formed on top of it.

"Honey, you don't have to do this" he assures pushing up from his elbows to look at you.

"I want to" you say taking him in your mouth as his grunt follows after.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. You're so good at this, baby. So so good" his head thumps back on the pillow. His stomach muscles are clenching hard resulting his abs to look more defined. You run your hands over them. His breathing picks up when you take him deeper and when you cup his balls, his hands grab a handful of your brown locks.

"_____, baby I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that" his hips come up pushing his cock to the back of your throat. He thrusts once, twice, thrice. The room is filled with wet noises and both of your moans. You've never heard of anything more beautiful. You've never seen anyone more beautiful than your husband.

"W-Want me to come in your mouth?" he asks as you nod frantically.

And he does. Another moans slips out of him as he grips your hair a bit tighter while also making sure not to hurt you. Your throat gets filled with his load.

"Swallow it, wife"

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Peace. If someone were to ask how your relationship is with Jungkook, you'd use the word peaceful. Love has all sort of forms and in your life where you are surrounded by so many people who love you, their love however, is slightly different yet equally precious.

For instance, there's passionate love then there's motherly love, bubbly love of a friend and nurturing love of a grandparent. When it comes to your husband, it's peaceful and calm. Your introvert personality had let people in the past assume the worst of you. The enormity of the fact that people think introverts are stand offish or impolite is beyond you.

It wasn't the case with Jungkook, though. Since you're both introverts it's never too quiet or too loud for you. A cup of coffee while you're sitting on his lap watching the sunset, taking a hot bath together where you both are not saying a word and letting silence wash over you, you reading your book while he plays his video game.

These moments might seem boring and mundane to a third party but for both of you, who feel like themselves in silence, they're more than just moments.

But that's not to say that there's no spark. That factor has certainly never been a matter of concern. Just like right now as you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, your body has never looked this stunning. You're wearing a red lingerie which hugs your pear shaped body like a dream.

However, you can't seem to stop the fleeting feeling of nervousness creeping up in your stomach, twisting it into knots. This is new for you. Even in your past relationships you have never explored this much. It's only Jungkook's ability to make you comfortable in your body that has led you to this point. So, you take a deep breath and call out for him.

"Babe!!!"

"Yeah?" before you left him to execute your sexy little surprise, he was talking to his best friend, Jimin. It appears he's done talking.

Adjusting the bra strap, you yell again, "Can you close your eyes for me, please?"

"Why?" he's got to be kidding.

"JUST DO IT!!"

"Alright, alright woman"

You walk towards the door and twist the knob oh so slowly. You open the door slightly ajar and see him sitting on the corner of the bed and then only you walk out.

Standing four steps before him you speak, "Okay you can open them"

"That's what she said"

You huff out a laugh but quickly recover.

"Jeon Jungkook"

"Shit, you full named me? This must be serio-" his words come to a halt when his gaze falls on you.

A nervous smile breaks out of your full lips as you wait for him to continue. When he doesn't say anything you start to wonder if you overdid it but he doesn't give you much time to think further because the next thing you know is he's pushing you against the bedroom wall, lips colliding with yours.

You moan as your lips move together with him sucking your bottom one between his. It's sloppy, it's filled with saliva but you wouldn't have it any other way. Tonight, you want the sloppy and wet.

His mouth is soft and eager. One thing about kissing Jungkook is that it's never the same. It's different every fucking time and it only gets better. His tongue pushes in between your lips before you part them and allow it to slide against your own.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, "Jesus Christ,____. You're trying to kill me, baby"

"Do you like it?" you chuckle.

"Like it? You have no idea how many times I've gotten off to this visual. You look like a fucking goddess and you could ask for anything right now, I'd give it to you"

He shakes his head right to left like he still can't comprehend the sight in front of him. So you decide to help him.

"Fuck me"

"What?"

"I need you to fuck me, Jungkook." you ask him in a stern voice.

From the way he looks at you, it seems like he can't wait another second to get his mouth on you. Taking a step back, he looks at you up and down as if taking his fill. The moment the next words leave his mouth, you shiver.

"Strip"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Jungkook's pov

"Strip"

The red lingerie pushes his wife's tits up as Jungkook is holds onto this slender thread of restraint, scared that if this gets any hotter, it'll snap. Her skin is so smooth and her lips are swollen from the rather burning kiss they shared earlier. The bulge in his sweatpants must be visible but he's not embarrassed about it.

A man can only handle so much. He looks at ______ with a fire and yearning that runs so deep he feels like it'll consume him whole. He wonders what made tonight worth it? is it the lingerie? is it the fact that they're newly married? is it the honeymoon?

No, It's because of the woman standing before him. It's because of the fact that he is the luckiest man alive on the planet to not only have a woman so sexy as his wife but also someone who is an outstanding daughter, a responsible sister and a human worth living for.

People talk about dying for their loved ones but what about living for them? What about living with them? When he was standing at the alter with ______ standing in front of him just like now he had made a promise to himself that he will live for her everyday. He will make every single day worth it for her so that she will choose him again as her husband in her next life.

The red fabric of cloth falls down with a subtle thump on the ground and his eyes travel all over _____ body. Her slender legs, a dark mole just above her left knee, stretch marks looking like lightening travelling from her navel down to her knees, the curve of her waist he has always loved to hold and kiss, her tits with perky nipples begging for attention and then finally her face.

"Come here and lie down on the bed" she does as he says.

When she gets comfortable enough and looks at him he asks her to spread her legs.

"Show me that pretty pussy, sweetheart" she spreads her legs slowly as if teasing him. He sucks in a deep breath before slipping out of his sweatpants and letting his cock spring free. It slaps against his stomach and he gives it a pump.

"I'm going to fuck you real nice but before that I want to watch. Don't worry though, I'll let you watch too" his voice is as husky as ever.

He walks back to the chair in the corner of the room and sits himself down. His wife looks at him with so much innocence and wonder, for a second he considers changing his mind and snuggle her to sleep but then again, she asked for it so she'll get it.

"Slip one finger inside, baby. Make sure to do it slowly, I want you to feel it well. Soak in the feeling"

"Jungkook, I'm not sure-"

"Hey, I'm right here, my love. I'm in this with you but reconsider it and if you're still not sure, we'll stop" he gently assures her, respecting her boundaries.

______ thinks for a while before taking a deep breath and nodding. Her hand slowly travels down to her stomach and finally to her wet cunt.

"Perfect, now rub your clit slowly and then slide a finger inside" she follows his commands as she lets out a light moan, her head tipping back in pleasure. It's just the beginning.

Jungkook's hands work up and down his length as he seeks his own pleasure but he's not sure how long he can last with the look on his wife's face. It's the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. She's his strength but fuck if she doesn't make him weak in the knees. Both of their moans fill the room with several "fuck" and "oh my god" following right after.

As _____ slides her finger inside and pumps it, he also fastens the pace of his pumping.

"Two more in, baby. Give it everything I know you're close" he manages to speak in a low voice.

"Jungkook, it's too much ahhh" she whines as she arches her back off the bed and he can see her pussy going moist and swollen indicating she's almost there. His hands pump as fast working his veiny cock between his tattooed hands and as soon as his wife lets out another loud moan, his orgasm follows making him throw his head back as he comes down from the high.

When he finally gets a hold of himself, he catches a look at her. She's breathing rapidly and caressing her stomach. Walking up to her he kneels down facing her sex and puts his mouth on it, sucking loudly.

"JUNGKOOK-"

Jungkook's eyes look up to her as he slides his tongue up and then down her pussy cleaning her off as she grabs his hair in response and yanks him up. He obliges and hovers over her before taking the same fingers that were inside her as he pushes them against her lips. She opens those kissable lips and tastes herself.

"Do you understand how divine you taste now?"

_____ hums as her lips release the finger with a loud pop. His eyes trace her face lovingly. _____ has exactly ten moles on her face and his favorite is the one on her upper lip. It's meant to be kissed just like the other ones.

"You're staring"

"I like looking at you. You're the loveliest person ever, do you know that? How did I even get so lucky?"

_____ grins and it's the only thing he ever wants to see on her face.

"Tell me how you want my cock wife and I'll give it to you" His eyes are glue to her face. He could look at her all day and not get bored.

"I- I want it from behind if that's okay" there is a hint of hesitation in her voice and he doesn't like it. But that's okay because he plans on making her as comfortable as possible tonight.

When he turns her on her stomach and guides her ass upwards, her face down on the mattress, she gasps but doesn't object.

"Are you okay with me spanking this ass, honey? Want me to tell you how bad I want you?" she whimpers.

"Yes, please"

"That's a good fucking girl" his doesn't wait a second longer before giving a slap on the globe of her ass, only to slap it once more while also making sure not to hurt her in the process. His palms paint her pale skin.

He works her clit pulling a loud moan out of her. _____ breath is picking up the pace again as sweat beads her back glistening it in the best way possible. He notches the head of his cock at her entrance and pushes inside with a force that takes both of their breaths away.

"Fuck" he cries out and she whines.

He pulls himself outside before thrusting back inside, "Fuck, I love you, _____. You're the best thing that happened to me. Every morning- ugh- every morning I get excited just because of the fact that I get to see this pretty face. You beautiful, strong, gentle of a woman and you're all mine"

His thrusts fasten, he gives three kisses on the dimples of her back as he fucks her from behind just like she asked.

"I love you, baby" he hears her reply back, her voice breathy.

"You like that?"

thrust

"You like how I'm giving it all to you, huh?"

thrust

"You like being at my mercy? Desperate and needy?"

thrust

"Want me to give you a baby,hmm? Make you look all mine?" His final thrust goes even deeper before he turns her on her back. He pulls out and freezes. The woman he's married to is looking like a fucking angel who also has been fucked raw and good. He couldn't be more in love with her.

"Sweetheart, I wanna try something but I need to you to trust me, alright? I'll never hurt you" when he gets a nod from _____ he uses his knees to move up to her until he just above her stomach.

"Push those tits together for me" he commands.

So, she does. ______ doesn't hesitate this time and his chest grows another inch with pride. Her tits squeeze up with the help of her palms and Jungkook carefully slips his cock into the tight channel. Her chest is decorated with the hickeys he's given her this morning.

It takes five thrusts for him to come on her chest. White, hot liquid covers his wife's chest as he quickly pushes himself sideways and lies down beside her with a loud thump.

"Christ, that was so good" he pants.

He takes a moment to catch his breath before running to the bathroom and comes back with a wet towel. He swipes it all over her chest as he cleans her off. She's still looking at him with the same love and passion in her eyes as before. Nothing has changed and nothing will change.

As soon as he's done cleaning up and gets ready to talk his wife's ears off, her soft snores pull at his attention. Giggling to himself as he covers her with the duvet pulling it taut so she can be warm and cozy, he gets comfortable beside her and prepares to go into a deep slumber.

A hand wraps around his stomach making his silly, romantic heart flutter and _____ places her head on his chest.

Placing a chaste kiss on her temple and nose, he whispers into the darkness, "Goodnight, honey. Thank you for being mine"

[agoraphxnics]

fem!afab!reader

wandering into a cave to seek shelter from the storm only to come across a slumbering dragon!price. he’s massive with radiant golden scales. you freeze, adrenaline shooting through your chest and piercing your ears. you slowly back away, trying not to wake the beast, when your back crashes into a thick wall of flesh. you look up to see another dragon!gaz blocking your exit.

“hmm, what do we have here?”

you face him, stepping backwards to make some distance. gaz isn’t as large as price, but his red scales still intimidate you to no end.

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t know this cave was occupied. i was just cold and needed a place to hide! i-i can leave and never come back!”

a grumbling resounds from behind you. it shakes the ground you stand on, making you shake from more than just the frigidness. a third dragon!soap appears, picking you up in claws and bringing you to his piercing yellow eyes and green-scaled maw. “poor li’l sapphire. didnae know this was a dragon’s nest?”

you curl in on yourself. “n-no! i swear! please don’t eat me! i promise i meant no harm!”

gaz laughs, stomping forward to look at you closer. his maw is so close—just one sharp exhale, and you’d be a pile of ash. “trinket, we won’t hurt you. you’re too cute to eat.”

“ye. we only want tae play with you a bit,” soap adds, using his other paw to ‘gently’ pat your head. it jolts your whole body.

you sniffle. “what do you mean?”

“mating season.” from the darkness, a fourth dragon!ghost appears. he’s taller than the two, all black scales and authority. you gasp, eyes widening.

“si!” soap scolds.

at the same time, gaz says, “don’t scare her even more than she already is!”

the former huffs. “why waste time when we can get to the point?”

gaz pulls away slightly to give you space, but his gaze still holds yours with intensity. “look, trinket. we dragons mate in autumn, and you caught us at the right time. if you help us, we’ll reward you handsomely.”

“john has quite the hoard,” soap continues, “and he’d be willing to give ye whatever ye need to live comfortably for the rest of your life.”

“all we ask is that you let us breed you,” gaz finishes.

you gulp, the adrenaline now pooling somewhere else. somewhere wet and hot. the idea of four dragons fucking you makes you keen, thighs pressing together unconsciously.

“but how would this work?” you ask, looking over at ghost’s underbelly. from a slit on his abdomen, you can see two large cocks starting to poke out, and from the heads alone, they each look just as big as you.

the three chuckle, and soon a fourth voice joins in on the laugh. price finally makes a move, standing up and walking over to fully cage you in soap’s palm.

“oh, treasure,” he rumbles amusedly, “dragons can shapeshift. we wouldn’t want to break you, would we, boys?”

the three grunt in response.

you feel awed by their power, and when you don’t respond, price barks out an order. “kyle. simon. johnny. show my treasure what i mean.”

soap places you back on the rocky floor. suddenly, the sound of cracking and contorting echoes through the cave. and before you know it, three massive humanlike men stand before you. sharp horns protrude from their heads, human flesh surrounds random patched of scales, and their backs sport gigantic wings and a tail. most importantly, however, they are naked and proudly presenting two scaly cocks between their legs, tips weeping with seed.

in that moment, any doubts or reasoning went out the window. drool ran past your lips, and your tongue quickly followed to lap it up.

soap laughed, crouching in front of you to caress your face. “li’l sapphire likes what she sees.”

“does that mean we can ‘ave ‘er?” ghost grumbled, claws moving to fist his aching cocks.

gaz sneaks behind you and whispers in your ear, “it’s up to her.”

you take them in, lustful eyes raking over their faces, their bodies, their everything, desperate to find out what pleasure they’ll give you. craning your neck up to where price still towers over you all as a dragon, you call, “can i see you, too?”

a contented sound leaves price’s throat as he shifts into a burly man just as aching as his pack mates. he stalks to you, those eyes still gleaming like the apex predator he very much is, and he turns you to face him. “well? are you pleased with your mates?”

you nod.

the four of them purr, finally putting their hands on you.

“good treasure. now just sit there and look pretty for us. we’ll take good care of you.”

writing smút is hard >_< maybe i’ll continue this one day but for now enjoy dragons bc they hot asf

[slutforformulaone]

Hey i was wondering if you could do drivers on their wedding day when the bridesmaids hand them like spicy photos of their wife?! im hoping yk what i mean they’re all over tiktok💗💗

F1 GRID || when your bridesmaids hand the driver spicy polaroid pictures of their newlywed wife!

warning : very suggestive content, 18+ content, no smut!

MAX VERSTAPPEN – the quiet, possessive one. dangerous level of horny. he’s sitting at a table near the dancefloor, champagne glass in hand, watching you sway in your dress. his gaze is intense, laser-focused. doesn’t even blink when people come up to talk. he’s too busy watching his wife — the way the dress hugs your hips, how your hair falls across your back, the way you throw your head back when you laugh. he’s not smiling, but his eyes are soft. full-on heart eyes. the first bridesmaid walks up and hands him a picture. max doesn’t say a word. just lowers his gaze. it’s you, in black lace lingerie, sitting on your knees on the edge of the bed. hands in your hair, lips parted. his jaw tightens slightly. he blinks slow. then the second comes. you in a white satin robe, slipped down just enough to show a nipple. his fingers press the table. then a third — you in his race suit, nothing underneath, zipped halfway, chest spilling out. he actually exhales. slow and low. the fourth bridesmaid places one more — you on your stomach, arching your back, wearing nothing but heels. looking over your shoulder, smirking. he still hasn’t said a word. he just stacks them neatly like he’s archiving sacred texts. his ears are red. by the tenth picture — you in his cap, legs spread just enough to tease, lips glossy — he finally glances up at the dancefloor. you walk over, smirking. “you like them?” he looks up at you with that cold little grin. “you’re not leaving the room tomorrow.” you blink. “max—” “no. not one foot out of bed. you think this is funny?” he leans close to your ear. “i’m going to fuck you so slow you’ll forget how to walk.”

OSCAR PIASTRI – that sweet, controlled chaos he’s sitting quietly, sipping champagne, smiling whenever you look at him. he’s calm. always calm. but he’s watching every movement you make, from the way your dress sways to how your head tips back when you laugh. and then your maid of honour, ruby, walks up. “congrats, oscar,” she says casually, slipping him a photo. he blinks. looks down. it’s you, in his own racesuit — the top half unzipped and hanging off your waist, nothing on underneath. your bare chest is just barely covered by how you’ve crossed your arms, your hair messy and your lips parted like you were just calling his name. his smile freezes slightly. a different bridesmaid, lola, hands him another photo. and another. you bent over in heels and nothing else, back arched so your entire ass is on display. a close-up of your chest, arms crossed under your boobs with the sheerest top imaginable. one where you’re sitting on your knees, hands on your thighs, biting your lip. his hand tightens around the glass. he clears his throat and shifts in his seat. you stroll over, playing dumb. “you okay?” he doesn’t look at you, just says under his breath, “this is the meanest thing you’ve ever done.” you giggle. “do you like them?” “baby,” he says quietly, his voice low and warm, “if you don’t get me out of this reception in the next sixty seconds, i’m going to embarrass both of us in front of your nan.” he sets the glass down and stands up. “come on. i’m not patient tonight.”

CHARLES LECLERC – gone. completely finished. he’s been in a lovestruck daze all day, and now it’s just getting worse. he’s leaning against the wall, eyes soft, smile lazy as he watches you dance. you twirl. he sighs. you laugh. he presses a hand to his chest. then someone slips a picture into his hand. it’s you in red lingerie, straddling a chair, hair messy, lipstick smudged. he blinks. another. you in heels, standing in front of a mirror, taking a back-view selfie with just the tiniest flash of your face in the corner. another. you biting your finger, in bed, shirt rolled up to your chest and no bra underneath. he freezes. physically cannot move. you finally walk over and he immediately steps toward you like he’s possessed. “mon amour,” he says, voice wrecked. “what is this.” you bat your lashes. “a gift.” “you…” he swallows. “you want me to survive tonight?” you bit your lip, refusing to make eye contact, “not really.” he nods. “bon. i’m going to ruin this dress.” he takes your hand and pulls you straight out the side exit, not even caring who sees. you don’t make it five steps before he pins you against the venue’s garden wall and mutters, “thank you for marrying me. now shut up for five minutes."

ARTHUR LECLERC – flustered baby mode™ he’s sitting on the edge of the dancefloor, smiling like a boy in love, just watching you glow. bridesmaid walks up. gives him a picture. it’s you in a leather corset, hair in a bun, licking a cherry off your finger. his entire face turns red. “uh—merci?” he tries to hide it behind his drink. second one is worse—you're tied to the bed with silk ribbons, smiling lazily at the camera. he chokes. actually coughs. by the time the fifth one hits, his hands are shaking. when you walk over, he has a small stack of photos in his lap and is refusing to look up at you. you glance down. “oh my god, are you blushing?” “they gave me so many!” “they were supposed to be nice!” “this one has you in nothing but heels!” you’re both bright red. he tries to hand them back. you shake your head and push them back towards him, “no, you’re keeping those.” he groans but the blush is still very visible, “i don’t know where to put them!!” he ends up hiding them in his inside jacket pocket like a secret spy.

GEORGE RUSSELL – plays it off, but his thoughts are absolutely not holy he’s sitting upright, classic george posture, sipping on some fancy cocktail and watching you dance like he’s watching the sun set. bridesmaid slides him a picture. he opens it. you, on the floor, in a matching set of baby blue lace, legs curled to the side, looking over your shoulder. he coughs into his drink. “well.” another one. you in a steamy shower, water running down your bare back, hand on the glass. he glances around. “is anyone else seeing these?” more photos. increasingly explicit. by the end, he’s just quietly flipping through them with a tight-lipped smile, like he’s browsing a menu he’s not allowed to order from yet. you walk up, biting back a laugh. “regret marrying me yet?” he closes the stack, tucks it into his jacket. “marrying you? never. but i am wondering how long we have to stay before i can… appreciate these properly.” “what, like, frame them?” he leans in. “i was thinking more like… recreate them.”

LANDO NORRIS – cocky little shit he’s sitting back in the chair, watching you like you hung the damn moon, barely blinking. when the first photo hits, he smirks. you in fishnets and a black thong, laying across his old mclaren hoodie, eyes locked on the camera. “oh yes.” next one is worse—you in his helmet, nothing else, crouched with your knees spread and your tongue out. “oh my god.” he starts laughing. not like he thinks it’s funny—like he’s in awe. by the seventh photo he’s fully leaned back, grinning to himself. when you walk over, he fans the pictures like playing cards. “how do you expect me to sit here with these in my lap, looking at you in that dress?” you shake your head. “i thought they were going to be cute ones—like me in your shirts.” he’s already halfway out of his seat. “baby. you can’t give me pictures like this and not expect to be bent over something later.” "lando, baby, never say that again. please. for the sake of both of us." "what, why? did it make you horny?" he smirks. she makes a disgusted face and furrows her eyebrows, "wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy?"

OLLIE BEARMAN – completely overwhelmed, red to his ears, doesn’t know where to look ollie’s been watching you all night like he can’t quite believe you’re real — his wife. you’re glowing under the lights, laughing with your friends, spinning barefoot now because your heels got ditched two songs ago. he’s just standing at the edge of the dance floor, soft smile on his face, swaying a little to the music. then one of your bridesmaids walks up and wordlessly hands him a small polaroid picture. “uh… thanks?” he says, confused, looking down. he instantly chokes. it’s you, sitting on a bed in a silk robe, legs folded, but the robe’s fallen just enough to show you’re definitely not wearing anything underneath. your lips are glossed, and your head’s tilted like you’re waiting for him. he blinks. hard. "oh my god." the next one is worse — or better, depending on how you look at it. you’re lying on your side, sheets pushed down to your hips, bare back arched, hair splayed over the pillow. the lighting makes your skin glow. he immediately shoves it in his pocket like it’s going to burn him. “jesus christ,” he mumbles, heart thudding in his chest. another bridesmaid. another photo. you in black lace, standing in front of a full-length mirror, one heel on, one off, mouth parted like you’re mid-laugh. he stares at it for a full five seconds before his hand just goes limp and drops it into his lap. “oh no,” he mutters under his breath. “nonononono.” by the fifth photo — you sprawled out on a couch, only wearing a man's dress shirt, the buttons undone and barely covering anything — he’s flushed from the collarbone up. he looks like he might actually pass out. “what is happening right now,” he whispers. by the tenth? he’s holding some pictures in one hand and fanning himself with a napkin in the other. knees bouncing. glancing around like someone’s going to tell his mum. max walks past and smirks. “you good, mate?” “i’m fine,” ollie snaps, voice about three octaves too high. when you finally stroll over, still glowing and grinning, he just gapes at you. “you KNEW?” you look sheepish. “i knew they were giving you something, but i thought it was like… cute selfies? i didn’t know they went full calendar shoot on me.” he tries to speak. can’t. clears his throat.“I—I don’t even—” he cuts himself off. looks away. covers his face with both hands. “ollie,” you say gently, pulling one hand down, “breathe.” he blinks at you. his pupils are huge. “you’re so—i just—” he stammers. “i don’t even know if i’m allowed to look at you now.” you laugh softly, brushing his curls back from his forehead. “you married me, baby. you’re definitely allowed.” he exhales. “right. right. okay. cool. coolcoolcool.” beat. “…but maybe don’t show me any more of those until we get home. i’m actually not okay.” you kiss his cheek. “noted.”

CARLOS SAINZ – cool on the outside, losing his mind inside he’s sitting at a table, drink half-finished, tie loose around his neck. his eyes haven’t left you since the first song started, watching you spin around the dance floor in your dress like he’s already mentally stripping it off you. when the first bridesmaid approaches, he takes the envelope with a raised brow. he opens it. it’s you in black lace, one hand gripping the headboard, back arched like you knew he’d be seeing it. he blinks once. then calmly folds the photo and slips it into his jacket pocket. “interesting.” the second one is you in red satin, lying on your stomach, ass peeking out just enough. he clears his throat. the third one? you're looking up at the camera, wearing nothing but thigh highs and a necklace he bought you. he doesn’t say a word. just runs a hand through his hair and exhales quietly through his nose. by the time you walk over, he's cool as ever. leaning back in his chair, watching you with that smug little smile. “you’re lucky there’s still cake to be cut,” he says, voice low. “or you’d be on your back in five minutes.” you bite your lip. he knows you planned this. you know he’s barely hanging on.

ALEX ALBON – shocked at first, then slightly embarrassed alex is leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he watches you spin around on the dancefloor. his gaze is soft, filled with admiration, and a little bit of that “wow, she’s mine” look. then, as if on cue, your bridesmaid approaches him, handing him the first picture. it’s a shot of you in a sultry pose, your legs sprawled across the couch, your dress bunched up just enough to tease. alex’s eyes widen as he looks down at the photo, his lips parting in a quiet laugh. "um… okay," he mutters under his breath, trying to pretend like he’s not totally caught off guard. he looks back at you, almost as if asking for permission, but you’re too far away to notice. another bridesmaid approaches, handing him another one. this one’s a close-up shot of you on your knees, your hands teasing your own nipple as you look directly at the camera. "jesus" alex coughs. he looks around, then back at the picture, his face flushed. "i didn’t know what kind of wedding this was gonna be…" the pictures keep coming: one of you with your back arched, showing off your curves; one of you lying on your stomach, your hands tangled in your hair, looking over your shoulder. with each new picture, alex is trying to keep it together, but his cheeks are red, and he’s getting a little more flustered. the final picture handed to him is one of you in a very intimate moment, eyes closed in pleasure as your hand trails over your body. it’s enough to make alex feel like he’s been hit by a truck. he presses the photo against his chest with a deep breath. "well... that was... something." as you walk over, you can already see the look in his eyes. "i didn’t know they were doing this," you say, arching an eyebrow. "yeah... i know," alex says with a grin. "i’m not sure whether to thank you or run away."

LOGAN SARGEANT – completely unaware, then amused logan is dancing along with a few of the guests, looking over at you occasionally with a small smile. he can’t help it—his eyes are drawn to you, the way you move with such grace. he’s completely captivated. then, one of your bridesmaids hands him the first picture: a playful shot of you laying across a bed, your legs kicked up and a teasing smile on your face. logan blinks a few times, taking the picture in silence. "uh… okay... this is different." he doesn’t know what to say at first. "is this… normal?" a second bridesmaid walks up with another photo—this one a bit more daring. it’s you with your back arched, one hand resting on the back of your neck, lips parted as if you’re about to speak. "wow, alright," he says, chuckling nervously. he looks at the picture, then back at you, clearly flustered. he tries to shrug it off, but then the third picture is handed to him—a close-up of you in a lingerie set, your legs crossed in a sultry manner, gazing at the camera like you know exactly what you're doing. "logan, i swear to god, i didn’t sign up for this," he mutters under his breath. the pictures continue: one of you leaning over a chair, showing off your curves in a provocative pose, and another one where you’re looking at the camera with a seductive smile, teasing a bit of skin. "okay, okay, i get it," logan says, laughing it off, but the last picture makes him pause: it's you lying on a bed, hand resting on your chest as if you’re deep in thought, eyes closed with a soft expression of pleasure. he’s caught off guard. "uh... i didn’t know you were this... adventurous," he says quietly to himself. as you walk over, you can’t help but smirk at the sight of logan, clearly trying to keep his cool. "so… how’s it going over here?" "uh, i don’t know if i can look at you the same now," logan jokes, his voice full of mock seriousness. you just laugh and walk away, knowing that the pictures were exactly what they were meant to be.

DANIEL RICCIARDO – playful and flirty, loves the pictures daniel watches you on the dancefloor, his heart racing a little faster as he takes in the sight of his beautiful wife. he’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly loving the way you look. the first bridesmaid hands him a picture. it’s a spicy shot of you in your lingerie, sitting on the edge of a chair, one hand on your thigh and the other resting on the armrest, teasing a glimpse of what's underneath. "oh, so this is how it’s gonna be," daniel grins, clearly enjoying the surprise. another bridesmaid hands him one of you lying on your back on the bed, your head tilted back, mouth slightly open as if you’re caught in the moment. daniel’s grin widens. "okay, okay... i see you, babe." he looks back at you, but you’re too busy to notice his reaction. as the pictures keep coming, he’s getting more and more into it. one of you with your back arched, giving a playful look over your shoulder; another one where you’re biting your lip, looking like you’re about to pounce. "you really know how to surprise a guy," daniel says, clearly impressed. the last picture is a little more explicit—of you with your fingers brushing the edge of your dress, your gaze fixed on the camera as if daring anyone to come closer. daniel chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "oh, you’re gonna love me after tonight," he mutters under his breath. when you walk over, he pulls you into his arms, whispering in your ear, "so, when can i get my own private show?" you laugh, already knowing what he’s talking about. "you’ll just have to wait, darling."

LEWIS HAMILTON – flustered, but secretly loving the attention lewis watches you dance, feeling that familiar warmth in his chest. he can’t help but admire how stunning you look, lost in the moment as you laugh and enjoy the celebration. one of your bridesmaids hands him a picture—a sultry one of you posing in front of the mirror, your lips parted in a teasing smile, a glimpse of your lingerie peeking out from your dress. lewis blinks a few times, his mouth going dry. "well, well, well," he murmurs, trying to keep his cool. the next picture is a close-up of you lying on a bed, one hand resting near your thigh, looking at the camera with a smoldering gaze. "you’re killing me, you know that?" lewis laughs, shaking his head. the next few pictures are similar, each one getting progressively more daring and intimate. you teasing with your dress, biting your lip, or giving a seductive glance directly into the camera. "this is what you do to me," he whispers to himself, clearly trying to hide how much he’s enjoying this. when you walk over, you notice the little grin on his face. "i take it the pictures were to your liking?" "you have no idea," lewis says, his voice low and smooth. "you’re gonna be the death of me, baby."

i am so grateful for this request, i had so much fun writing it and it's just made me fall even more in love with the drivers – also, the trend is actually to die for! i can't wait to get married, so my bridesmaid can do this for me! ^^

[lay-z]

cotton candy clouds | 6

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samoyed (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts/personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; slow-burnish; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff/domesticity; humour; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Mind the warnings for each chapter!)

☁ ccc; masterlist

It’s barely seven in the morning and Simon is already on his third steaming cup of black tea after yet another night of barely any sleep, where he instead indulged in his most primal urges for the first time in what felt like ages.

Two more times he’d done it after his steely resolve had crumbled at last. His balls feel lighter than ever but his cock, now sore and more sensitive to the slightest touch, makes him wince and clench his teeth whenever it chubs against the fabric of his underwear.

Worse than that though—it’s a reminder of what he’s done, just as much an evidence of him losing control of himself as his cum-stained hoodie still neatly folded and hidden behind a couch cushion until he’s able to bury it between his other dirty laundry.

He hasn’t thought about it before, but when the door to his bedroom creaks open, announcing that you’re awake, Simon becomes all too aware of the heavy, gut-wrenching knot of guilt now lodged in his intestines. How the bloody hell is he supposed to look you in the eyes after what he’s done?

When the sound of your bare feet padding along the floor reaches his ears, Simon doesn’t know what to do, how to behave, and he quietly curses Price, curses the brass, and curses the whole bloody universe again for continuously putting him in situations out of his control and comfort zone. He didn’t ask for any of this, doesn’t want to end up treating you like everyone else previously has—though he certainly didn’t ask for you like they obviously did.

“Good morning, Simon,” you chirp entering the kitchen, your voice still husky from sleep in a way that makes his hackles raise like a mutt’s.

Lifting his tea up to his lips, he mutters a gruff mornin’ into the black ceramic mug, not bothering to face you yet. He clucks his tongue, suddenly feeling like he owes you an explanation. “Didn’t ah–Didn’t know if ya eat breakfast, so I… didn’t make any.” Bloody Christ, Simon thinks, I just sound fucking daft at this point.

“I do like to eat breakfast,” you reply with a soft chuckle and he nearly jumps like a skittish kitten when your arm comes around him to rest low on his hip, your warm palm pressing lightly to urge him to move aside, away from the stove—your touch scorching his skin even through the fabric of his sweatpants.

Simon moves stiffly like a robot, grip tightening around his mug while he grits his teeth and wills his blood from rushing south again. So goddamn sensitive, he bites the tip of his tongue, afraid he might groan if he doesn’t stop himself.

“How did you sleep?” you ask casually enough to pull his mind out of the gutter as he finally manages to look at you while you continue talking. “I slept fine, but your bed is… oof… something else.” As if to emphasize your slight discomfort, you lift your arms and clasp them together above your head, stretching thoroughly with a yawn while your sleepshirt—still his bloody shirt—rides up high, exposing the front of your white cotton panties—and just like that, he loses control again, glances down, and gets a full view of the thin fabric perfectly moulding itself to your mound.

Simon curses under his breath, and right then, he fears he might faint from how fast his blood is rushing down to his cock. He grits his teeth, slams his mug down on the counter hard enough to make you flinch, causing you lower your arms at once while your ears flatten at the loud noise.

“Yeah, it’s… shite,” he rumbles in reply, furiously ignoring the questioning look in your doe-eyes, the furrow of your brows coming from the fear that you might have done something wrong again—it makes his mind cloud with anger and disappointment at himself, but it’s not enough to quench the throbbing arousal building deep in his gut.

“…‘scuse me,“ he mutters gruffly, already pushing past and fleeing from the kitchen before you can begin to say another word to him, though he can feel your eyes staring at his back as he retreats, internally cursing his cock currently straining in his pants again.

Shame seems to follow him throughout the day—whenever he catches sight of you, it turns out, and the flat that seemed perfect while he was alone, seems even smaller now that you’re here. There is nowhere to hide. You’ve marked your territory too well at this point, he figures, when he walks into his bedroom and finds your scent clinging to his bed sheets.

Subtle yet sweet like candied fruits with a hint of your natural musk—and his pupils blow like a shark catching a whiff of fresh blood in the depths of the ocean.

A shiver goes through the entirety of his spine, the phantom sensation pooling at his tailbone—uncomfortably familiar whenever he gets particularly excited or agitated—and a horrific reminder of what he is and which abhorred parts of him you bring forward so easily.

Eventually, he picks up his pillow and glances over his shoulder, guilt already clawing inside his chest while he listens to you still cooking breakfast in the kitchen, blissfully unaware of his degeneracy, before he takes a cautious sniff, then buries his nose deeper into the soft fabric before he finally smushes his whole face into it with a low, guttural groan.

His cock throbs harder in his briefs, painfully sensitive now, and his fingers twitch with restraint, digging harder into his pillow as if short from ripping it apart, when he feels the meagre excuse of a knot at the base of his shaft begin to swell, too.

Synapses start firing in his brain and something ancient awakens in himself—a primal instinct that urges him to possess, and protect, and claim you. It makes his gums and canines itch with the need to bite, makes him snarl into the pillow while his mouth starts to salivate, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the tiny, still normal part inside his brain screams at him to get a bloody grip!

It’s your melodic voice cutting through the fog in his brain that drags him out of his pathetic frenzy. He drops the pillow haphazardly, cheeks flushing and shoulders heaving as he tries to control his ragged breathing.

“Simon? Breakfast is ready if you’d like some,” you call out again, all soft and unsure, causing Simon to hate himself even more fiercely.

Simon enters the kitchen with his mask of stoicism fixed in place and his boner gone once more, though the scent of you, all warm and sleepy, keeps lingering in his nostrils, taunting him. It mixes with the mouth-watering aroma of a proper English breakfast and a fresh mug of tea next to the perfectly arranged plate—for him. You’ve cooked for him, again. He didn’t ask for this, didn’t have to, and you did it anyway.

When he sees you standing in front of the sink, scrubbing a pan in soapy dishwater, still only clad in his shirt while the morning sunshine peaks through the kitchen window and casts you in a soft, golden glow, it’s a vision of unfamiliar domesticity that makes his chest feel tight and his mouth go dry with emotions he dares not to name.

The chair scrapes over the floor as he pulls it back before taking a seat and staring down at the plate. His stomach growls on cue and Simon’s eyes flicker up to glance at your back again, noticing how your tail lifts the tattered shirt up, exposing your rear to him without a single care in the world—as if he wasn’t just a stranger to you, but a man you trust already.

And in this moment, Simon Riley makes a secret vow to himself.

“Thank you,” he says, meaning it genuinely, and he expects you to turn around, to flash one of your warm smiles at him, but you don’t though the light wagging of your white tail is telling enough.

Catastrophe strikes, when Simon returns home from the base gym in the early evening, secretly hoping for another homemade dinner, but finding his flat eerily quiet and cold instead.

The sun has already set and the temperature along with it. His thick hoodie clings to him like a second skin despite the sweaty tac shirt he’s wearing underneath, and with his balaclava still securely in place, he lets his gym bag drop to the ground, leaving it by the front door after locking it behind him.

His footsteps are measured and silent as he stalks into his living room—only to find it empty with a heavy sigh.

Did you leave while he was gone? No, highly unlikely. You know that’s against the rules, against the bloody hybrid law, actually. Simon shakes the thoughts from his head, ignores the tiniest flutter of panic in his chest and decides to simply call out your name instead—like a big boy.

“Since when are ya hidin’ from me?” he quips uncharacteristically, having pictured you greeting him with a wagging tail and sparkling eyes when his mind had slipped again on his short walk from the gym to the apartment complex, though he’s reluctant to even admit it to himself.

When he finally finds you, Simon freezes in the doorway to his bedroom, blood running cold with a whole-body shiver while his eyes widen comically behind the safety of his mask at the sight that greets him.

He’s been through hell and back multiple times, has witnessed—and done—the most horrific shite in both his military career and cursed childhood, and yet none of it could’ve prepared him for this.

You, sitting at the end of his bed right across from him, clutching his  painfully obvious cum-stained hoodie from last night against your quivering chest like it’s something precious instead of his despicable dirt, fat crocodile tears shimmering in your eyes as they flicker up to meet his.

For once in his life, since crawling out of his own grave, Simon Riley is too stunned to speak.

Why? Why? Why?! Why are you doing this to me?

“Simon,” you sniffle pathetically, sitting there clad in your pretty white knit dress. “Simon, do you–do you h-hate me?”

All air rushes from his lungs with a harsh exhale as if punched in the chest at the sound of your meek voice asking him this. Hate you? Bloody hell, he really should.

However, his mouth merely opens and then closes with something akin to a choked complaint, though it’s muffled by the black cloth covering his face. He’s thankful for it as he feels the searing heat of embarrassment creep up and settle on his cheekbones.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses under his breath before lunging forward in a fit of panic to snatch his hoodie out of your grip while his heart thumps violently against his ribcage. “Gimme that!”

You let out a high-pitched whine and duck your head submissively as he towers over you briefly, but Simon ignores your reaction in favour of his own quick retreat—not a Special Forces soldier but a coward falling back in this very moment as he swiftly turns to leave again, get as much space as he can; clutching the fabric tightly so he won’t end up punching a wall on his way out—and potentially scare you even worse.

Shame sinks and settles deep into his bones along with the freezing cold engulfing his flushed body once he steps out into the darkness, leaving the apartment complex behind him after throwing the wretched fabric into the nearby rubbish skip next to the large building.

Rucking his balaclava up over his nose, he puts a cigarette between his cracked lips and lights it methodically before taking a greedy drag on his way over to HQ—your file now safely tucked under his left arm.

[kitten4sannie]

two player game

pairing: gamer boy! yunho x gf! reader

genre: smut with zero plot

summary: you find something worthwhile to occupy your attention while your boyfriend is wrapped up in his current save file.

w.c: 1.7k

warnings: nasty dom! yuyu (bro gets a bit whiny), tiny bit bratty mostly good girl! reader, pet names + name calling, praise + degradation, SIZE KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️, monster cock yunho agenda, implied throat/hole training, manhandling, edging, cockwarming w throat, messy oral + deep-throating, finger sucking, a (rough) quick fuck bc yunho cums in 0.5 seconds, breeding + bulge kink, creampie <3

a/n: as a certified yunwhore i simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write about gamer boy yuyu ~~ honestly i have no excuse for this tbh i just need him so baddddd and this is what i have to do to keep the voices at bay 😔✊🏼 anygays, enjoy lovelies! and if you liked, please consider sharing your thots with me :3 <3

“You said you would stop playing after you finished that level, Yun, come on,” you whined to your boyfriend, who was currently balls deep in the newest video game he just bought. It should’ve been you he was balls deep in, yet here you were, third wheeling to an inanimate object. 

Yunho ducked and weaved around your waving hands that were currently trying to block his view from the flatscreen tv he was locked in on, sitting up from the slouched position he had on the sofa you both were lounging on. 

“Ugh,” you huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. “Whatever.” 

He turned his head for a moment to look at you apologetically, reminiscent of a golden retriever that just got scolded. “I’m sorry, baby, I swear, I’ll get off soon. I’m just…at a really good part right now.” 

“You said that twenty minutes agoooo.” You leaned against Yunho, your cheek squishing into his large shoulder, pawing at his nearest thigh. “Why can’t you play with me, instead of your stupid game?” 

“Oh, I see.” Yunho raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at you through his peripheral vision. “Someone’s in heat, huh?” 

You let out a whimper, kneading at his upper thigh. “I want you, Yun…Please, pay attention to me~” 

Yunho simply spread his thighs apart, your gaze shifting from his mischievous eyes to his poorly concealed cock still trapped inside his black sweatpants. He grunted, reaching down to adjust it, moving his thick length over so that it laid comfortably across the thigh closest to you. “You can have me, princess. I’m right here.” 

Just as you were about to pounce on him, Yunho grasped the bottom of your face in between his slender fingers. “Ahh, ahh, ahh.” Chuckling at the sight of your squished cheeks and confused face, he leaned in, whispering, “Go ahead and cockwarm me, baby, with that pretty little mouth of yours. You can do that for me while I finish this part, mm?” 

The sick bastard was toying with you. Well, two could play at that game. Licking your lips, you got down onto your knees in front of Yunho, fitting yourself in between his open thighs. Without saying a word, you began to run your fingers along his soft length over the material of his pants, tracing the outline of it, feeling it harden underneath your fingertips, making sure to rub your thumb over his pronounced tip, knowing it was sensitive. As if on cue, a small whimper escaped Yunho’s straining throat, his eyebrows screwing together as if to concentrate harder, refusing to look down at you. 

Filled with determination to interrupt his gaming, you tugged the waistline of his sweatpants down, your thighs squeezing together from the way his dripping cock smacked heavily up into his lower abdomen. You wrapped your hand around it, humming at how warm it felt within your grasp, lowering yourself down to slowly drag your tongue from the base up to the tip, licking around the tip until it shined. Lightly sucking it into your mouth, you palmed his balls one at a time, squeezing them suddenly, earning another whimper from your boyfriend. 

“You’re playing dirty, princess,” Yunho grunted, pressing his back into the couch, glancing down at you just in time to watch a good majority of his pulsing cock disappear down your throat. “Fuck, what a good slut…” He stroked the top of your head like he would with a cat, nodding approvingly. “I trained your throat well, haven’t I? Now, stay just like that while I play, okay?” 

Your cheeks grew warm from hearing your boyfriend’s polarizing praise, unable to keep yourself from letting his thick length push even deeper down into your throat, breathing shallowly through your nose, your lips already stinging at the corners. “Mmmrfff….” You stayed still for as long as you could with his oversized cock pressing against your tongue and throat, beads of saliva dripping past your mouth and down along his slick skin, using your hand to lube up what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth in the meantime. 

Yunho shuddered from underneath your touch, his half-closed eyes shifting downwards to burn the image of his tiny girlfriend, who was currently being swallowed by one of his many hoodies, trying her absolute best to fit his big cock inside her mouth. Your stark size differences always made him throb, made him want to take advantage of them in every way he could. “Look at you, taking all of me like that, baby…Take some more, okay?” he exhaled, sliding his slender fingers into your hair and bucking his hips up, fucking himself into your tight, warm throat. 

“Mmnn…!” you moaned back, squeezing your hands into his large thighs, feeling his muscles tighten up underneath your fingertips. You were so wet already, you had no choice but to squeeze your bare thighs together as a poor attempt to keep from soaking the carpet underneath you. Being enveloped in your boyfriend’s warm cologne and clothes while he ruthlessly shoved his cock down your throat was simply too much for a sensitive girl like you to handle without creaming yourself. 

“So tight, princess, just like your wet little cunt, huh?” he groaned out, opting to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck and continue shoving himself into your throat, rolling his hips up in a quick, sloppy fashion, with clear desperation, and a need to give his pretty personal cum dump a load to gulp down. He audibly hummed at the choked moans and gasps you were letting out, pulling out just to roughly slap his cock down onto your lolled out tongue, grunting and groaning as he shot thick spurts of cum down your throat. He tried to control his panting, wanting to hear your answer to his next question. “You sounded so hot, choking and moaning on my cock like that. You soaked your panties just from getting throat-fucked, didnt you, baby?” 

“Uh-huhhh,” you purred, your voice a bit gravelly from the abuse your throat took, swallowing down most of his load, only sticking your tongue back out when he reached down to push two fingers over it and into the back of your throat. 

Yunho watched with awe as you didn’t seem to gag, humming at the feeling of you sucking the rest of his pre-cum and other mixed fluids from his slender digits. “That’s my good girl…so well trained now…fuck.” 

You moaned onto his fingers that continued to lazily slide over your tongue and occasionally down into your throat, slowly pulling away to purr, “My cunt’s trained too, Yuyu. Don’t you wanna fill up my other hole, see how well I can handle your cock now?”  

Not caring that he had been missing out on the important lore that was playing out in the current cutscene the entire time, Yunho tossed his controller out of the way and lifted you up from the floor, taking a second to push your soaked panties out of the way before he sat you down onto his cock. He let out a small growl, watching your cunt swallow the thick tip of his cock and slowly take the rest of him inch by inch. “God, you’re still so fucking tight, princess…” Yunho pressed his lips onto your ear, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, the borrowed hoodie you wore bunching up near your tummy. “Mm, but you can’t help having such a tiny pussy, can you? So small and cute…perfect for my big cock to fuck full…” 

“Perfect for you, Yun, just for you–nnngh…!” you gasped sharply, just as your boyfriend began ramming himself up into you, his hands tightening the grip they had around your soft waist, using you like you were his own perfectly crafted cocksleeve. “So big, so biggg, fuck–”

“And you’ll fit it all inside your perfect cunt, just like you always do, won’t you, baby? Yeah, just like that,” he groaned out, lowering one hand down to your tummy to rub circles over it, feeling his own cock as it slammed into your cunt each and every time. It never failed to make him feel so dizzy, knowing you were this small, yet you could always take his cock like a champ. “That’s my girl, look at you go, baby, letting me breed you like this…so good for me…” 

“So good, so good for you, Yuyu…” You gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into them through his hoodie, unable to keep yourself from moving your hips down whenever he fucked up into you, growing more and more desperate now that you were on the edge of ecstasy. “Gonna cum…oh my god, breed me, please…!” 

“Gonna fuck you so full of my load, princess…” Yunho tossed his head back into the couch, his deep groans gradually turning into a staccato of whiny, higher-pitched moans, still able to forcefully drive you down onto his cock, but his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy and desperate. All Yunho had to do was lift his head back up to look at your pretty fucked out face and how effortlessly tiny you looked wearing his hoodie to reach his limit, immediately pumping his hot load into you as soon as it began spurting out of his aching cock. “You feel that, baby? All the cum I’m fucking into you…?” 

“Mmhmm…!” It felt so good, you started to cry. “I love it, Yuyu…” 

Just as his cockhead roughly kissed your cervix for the last time, Yunho felt your cunt lock around him like a vice, something warm and wet coating his cock and lap. “Fuck, you just came all over my cock, didn’t you?” He chuckled, rubbing your back in small circles. “Always making such a mess, aren’t you, babygirl?” 

“It’s all your fault, Yun,” you whined softly into Yunho’s shoulder, hugging onto him for dear life, your vision fading in and out. If you had came any harder, you would’ve passed out, though it was always like this whenever you were around your irresistible boyfriend. 

“Mm, why don’t you remind me of who it was that interrupted my gaming session?” He sent a playful smile your way, booping your nose when you pouted. “Oh baby, next time, just ask me if we can switch to a two player game~” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[deadbydad-writes]

Pictures Kenji has of you on his phone nsfw version

The first photo he took of you was when you were designing something on his bike, wearing nothing but a black bra, lacy thong, and his motorcycle jacket.

The second photo is your hand wrapped around his cock, your fingernails freshly painted the color of his tip

The third photo was sent to him while Kenji was at a game. It was of you standing in the mirror, freshly out of the shower in a brand new lingerie set

The fourth photo was, again, taken in front of the mirror. You were simply sitting on his cock while he sat on the edge of the bed, your back touching his chest while his hand squeezed your breast and the other was on your waist.

The fifth photo was from a vacation you two went on. You were sunbathing on the beach completely naked, and Kenji just happened to get the chance to take a photo

The sixth photo is of your tongue sticking out of your mouth, a lazy smile on your face as his cum dripped down the corners of your mouth and some pooled on your tongue.

The seventh photo is of you bent over his bike, the camera focused on his cum dripping down your thighs

The eighth photo is of you simply straddling his lap while you both made out, half a blunt in his fingers. You both were only in your underwear

And his favorite photo out of all of them was the one from your wedding night, you were wrapped in a white lacy lingerie set and your panties were pushed to the side while Kenji fucked into your cunt.

Part 2??

@rieamena @miratastic @despacito-uwu16 @mochminnie @kenjioharashotspot

[clovermoters]

the parenting sacrifices - dad!lando x wife!reader

summary - while your out on girls night, lando stays home with your sick daughter

warnings - none! just some fluff and kisses, no use of y/n

authors note - i actually wanna make this a little universe so send me some ideas for dad!lando because i adore him!! as always big thank u too @landopoet for reading this over and hyping me up!! love ya big time!! anyways i’ll stop talking and pls enjoy the fic !

“Are you sure you're going to be okay?”

Lando was lightly pushing you towards the door, you were dressed in a short black dress that had Lando seeing stars. Ever since the birth of your daughter, lando has forced you to take a mandated night out with your girlfriends once a month as a break from your motherly duties.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“Yes, Josie and I are going to be just fine, go have your fun.” Lando assures you.

Your three year old daughter has caught the viral head cold that's been circling her daycare. Carlos had warned Lando that his son, Mateo had recently gotten the same bug, since the two toddlers have been in daycare together since they were in diapers.

Lando helps you with your heels and pushes your leather clutch into your hands. He gives you a light peck on the lips “go, have fun, we will be okay.” you melt slightly into his lips before you spin around making your way out the door to meet your girls parked downstairs.

Truthly lando was slightly nervous to be alone with Josie since he’s never been on his own when she was sick. He waltzes into the living room to find his daughter, dressed in her formula 1 jammies that McLaren gifted your family for her third birthday. She had Cars, her favourite movie, playing on the tv while he was bundled underneath a mountain of blankets. Battling a fever and stuffy nose.

Lando ‘rounds the couch, plopping himself down next to his daughter. Josie immediately snuggles into Lando's arms, not taking her eyes off the super agent race cars on the flatscreen in front of her.

“You hungry missy?” Lando asks, “Mama's gone for tonight so it's just you ‘n me.” Lando looks down into an identical set of eyes and a replica head of his own curls. When Josie was born, you were over the moon to find out your daughter had the same eyes you fell in love with. As she got older and her hair grew into a messy head of curls, you were ecstatic.

Josie weakly nods and Lando presses a kiss to her forehead. Before going to the kitchen to heat up some pasta.

Once the movie had finished, and Josie's belly was filled with Landos delicious pasta, your mothers recipe. Lando had decided that an early bedtime is what Josie needs to beat her sickness. Running her a bath to try and keep her fever to a minimum. the girl giggled at her father making funny faces while washing her hair.

Once Josie was clean and in a fresh set of pajamas, Lando read her favourite story and gave her medicine to help her sleep with her cold. Giving a kiss goodnight before making his way to his room, heading in to wait for your return home..

.ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

Lando was in bed watching a cheesy movie you’d told him he would enjoy. He was hardly paying attention, distracted by an instagram reel Carlos had sent him. since Mateo had come down with the same sickness as Josie, the fathers have been in contact swapping tips while their wives are out with each other, probably discussing how their husbands are getting on with the sick toddlers on their own.

Lando senses the light patter of feet making their way towards his door, he tosses his phone onto the sheets, making his way to the door, finding his daughter sleepy-eyed, holding her blankie sniffling. her eyes were red rimmed with tears.

“Daddy” is all she whines out, lifting her arms mumbling a quiet “..‘uppie” . Landos heart squeezes at his daughter's pain, scooping her up, Lando presses a kiss to her temple, her forehead hot to touch, “Aw josie, still not feeling good baby?”

The three year old pushes her face into Landos shoulder, he cringes slightly as the snot rubs into his skin. He hates when Josie is sick, especially when you aren't here to help, he knows he is capable of taking care of Josie, he also knows Josie needs her mom to lie on top of.

“It hurts” she cries when Lando places her onto the bed, switching the movie he had on, to cars

The sacrifices of parenting

Lando let Josie use him as a personal pillow, the girl sprawled out on his bare chest while she picked away at the popsicle she sweet talked her way into getting.

Lando routinely checked in on Josie's temperature, her fever remained stubbornly high resulting in a cranky three year old.

While Josie's eyes were fixed on the tv, Lando snuck a picture of your daughter snuggled to your husband's bare chest, just like when she was a newborn, sending you the picture with a quick update. you giggle reading the contact lando had set himself years ago.

[attached image]

most smexy husband EVAHHH: her fever won’t break, but we’ve got cars on and popsicle running through her veins!! see u soon xx

you aww’d at the photo tilting the screen to show rebecca who was sat next to you in the booth.

“Stop it, Carlos sent me the same thing an hour ago! Look what I did!” she gasped, you giggled at the girl while she pulled out her phone, turning it on to show you her wallpaper. an almost identical photo of Carlos and Mateo shined from the device.

you pouted at the sweet picture, finding it funny how your race car driver husbands, who this time in their twenties would be in a club partying together, are now at home nursing their sick toddlers.

Hearting the picture and sending a quick reply to your husband. after quickly copying Rebecca and setting the picture as your lock screen, you continue your conversation with the girls around the table.

you: aww, my loves! Almost done here and i'll be on my way,

Lando had smiled at your reply, Josie still tucked in his chest. Her blinks became slower as lightning mcqueen crossed the finish line. Lando rubbing the girls back while he breathing evened out.

Lando turned off the TV, pulling the sheets over Josie letting sleep take over, small breaths fanning across his chest as Lando held his daughter while she slept, smiling softly at her peaceful state.

You quietly entered the house, you were met with dim lights that Lando purposefully left on for you. Your home was silent apart from the light hum from the air conditioning unit, you slipped your heels off. Carrying them upstairs before lightly pushing the door to the master bedroom open.

Your heart melted at the sight of your favourite people sound asleep in your bed. Lando had one hand protectively around your daughters back while she slept peacefully next to him. You quietly readied yourself for bed, puttering around your room careful not to disturb the two sleeping.

You changed into sleep shorts and one of Landos shirts, slipping into bed next to your family. Once you were under the covers, lando stirred slightly at the dip in the bed.

“Heyy..” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. He reaches out to place a soft kiss on your forehead as you move Josie to rest in between you two. The girl tosses at the adjustment but lets out a big sigh as she gets comfortable again, her sleep undisturbed.

You and Lando giggle at her dramatics “that's all you” you joke before turning to place a quick peck to his jaw.

Lando smiles, reaching an arm around your waist as you let sleep pull you under. Lando thinks he wouldn't want to spend his nights any other way than right here, surrounded by his wife and daughter in the home they’ve filled with love, surrounded by the quiet nightlife of Monaco.

It doesn't matter what chaos tomorrow will bring, lando will always enjoy the quiet moments like these the most.

ೃ࿔ ⌂*:･

ok anyways sorry that this is BAD but thank u oh so much for reading <3 see u soon!

[goaskangel]

making a movie with shiu + toji !! part two - part one

cw : pure smut, rude toji and sweet shiu, face/throat fucking, recording, sweaaattt, cunnilingus, smoking

“go ahead, girl. take toji’s cock out.”

“yeah, baby,” he runs a hand over himself, “take toji’s cock out.” his stupid, flirty tone and even speaking in third person, mocking shiu, makes you stupidly wet. you grind down onto the floor like a dog as you paw at the drawstring of the band before tugging it down with weak fingers. along with his boxers, his semi-hard on bobs carefully. so big, your mouth immediately dries. not even fully hard and he’s at least a good seven inches. trimmed, uncut, slightly leaky–he groans out of impatience. 

toji gives himself a good couple of strokes, it grows with every sight of his raw tip. “kiss it, baby.” he holds his length right to your mouth. “what? cat got y’er tongue? here, lemme help.” he lifts your chin up, “open.” 

you open your mouth, tongue lolling out a bit before he spits a thick wad onto it. “kiss it, look up. mouth open, pay attention, girl.” he’s so testy, keeping a big hand on your hair as he keeps straightening your head out to level out your mouth and his cock. fear and lust boil in your lower back and you, getting slicker by the second, aren’t sure if you should be scared or tranquil. 

your mouth and pink tongue practically melt around his salty tip. you press a wet, open kiss before sucking on his cockhead, closing your eyes to ease the anxiety in you. toji groans and holds your face before pushing his hips and feeling the sweet, hot wetness press around his length. it keeps going and going and going until your fingertips creep up onto his thighs to dig your nails into him, hoping he gets the message. 

“hands off, baby. jus’ open up, breathe.” your eyes prick with tears as he pushes himself down into your throat slowly but you obey, your hands curling into a fist on your thighs. “yeah, good girl knows how to listen, huh? i like that.” he lets a shaky, deep breath out when he finally rests himself in the depths of you. pulling himself back to get a fresh breath of air, gasping intensely away from the thick musk of toji. you’re greeted with a mix of open air and…cigarette smoke? you look over to the cameraman who's now blowing a good puff of smoke. you would’ve yelled at shiu for smoking in your home if it wasn’t for toji swiping his cock on your lips. you open back up for him and take him much easier now as he thoroughly fucks your mouth, your eyes pinching tightly again. he tastes great, manly and sweaty with a hint of his cologne lingering down. veins and skin decorating his cock. you’ve always wondered what the veins on his neck would feel like pressed up against your lips, god, or when he sweats from working so hard and it trickles down the bump below his ear, you wanna lick it off. 

the smoke gets stronger and you hear shiu’s voice, “open your eyes, babydoll. look at the camera, come on.” timidly, you wink an unsure eye open before looking up into the black lens crouched to your level, if it weren’t for your dazed and blurry sight, you’re sure you would’ve seen your stupid expression. all teary eyed and blushing with a stupidly big cock poking through your cheeks. “there she is, there’s my girl.” he gets back up and says something to toji, totally unaudiable to you. 

your mouth gets a few more pumps and without warning, he pulls out. pretty plump lips and drooly mouth gaped slightly as toji pulls his boxers up. finally resting until you're urged to get up. you’re sat on the couch, back pressed up to the cushions with your legs open. 

“mmm, poor girl. you’re soaking right through your shorts. toji, why don’t you help her?” shiu takes another puff and spews it out to the side when toji hooks his fingers under your shorts and panties and tears them right off. “nasty girl, you always this wet? or only around two older guys, huh?” so aggressive, but his touches are so soft. fingertips messing gently between your soppy folds and dewy hole. 

“i was touching myself and then you fucking called.” 

“oh, yeah? could’ve just gotten you off then and there from the phone.” 

you whine, bucking your hips from the lack of attention now. 

“christ,” shiu gets down on his knees, “who’s impatient now?” he keeps the camera focused on your glistening pussy in his right hand, taking quick inhales with his left. “pretty, pretty.” he mumbles, leaning down closer to your inner thighs before completely forgetting about the camera. toji now holds it up as shiu spreads you softly, making you moan slowly. he blows smoke right on your twitchy clit, watching it disappear into thin air. he leans in and presses a wet kiss onto your swollen bud. 

“mmm.” you push your cunt into his face and your heart jumps as he continues, making out sloppily with your pussy before even kissing you. his tongue running skilled strokes from your clit to your much attention-starved hole. teasing the tip of his tastebuds into you, groaning at the taste of your slick. 

toji takes his cigarette so he can properly love on you, his thick facial hair tickling your skin as he drools and sends butterflies to your stomach. 

“taste good, kong?” camera at the back of his dark hair.

“like fucking heaven, zenin.” shiu admires your sheeny folds after licking your heavenly slick from his lips. 

“gotta get in her.” he stands up, two men towering right over you.  “you want that, sweetheart? let us make you feel good?”

PT 3 COMING SOOONNNNN (hopefully)

masterlist , part one

PART THREE

taglist : @xoxo1mira (feel free to ask to be tagged!!!!)

[etherealrin]

♡.ᐟ sanrio rings!

how proplayer!rin accidentally reveals his relationship with you to the public

warnings: none // wc: 929

note: my first post ever, hi LOL. ooc rin perhaps? female reader (reffered to as rin's gf)

rin forgets he even has the plastic ring on. so when he gets interviewed post-match and the cameraman zooms in on his right hand, which currently grips the microphone, he's a little confused.

"mr. itoshi!" the reporter exclaims, "what an odd choice of jewelry! and on the ring finger too, are you perhaps engaged?"

what? engaged? rin plasters a frown on his face, ready to go off at the woman.

"i have no idea what y-" rin begins, but cuts himself off. oh shit, he thinks. of course, on his ring finger sat the stupid little kuromi ring he had gotten with you in shibuya last week. his mind races back to the memory, and he groans internally.

"rin, please! let's get matching ones!" you squealed as you dragged him towards the staggering rows of gachapons deep inside the city's neon lit streets. the whole shop was filled to the brim with machine after machine, and one in particular had caught your eye. it was one containing comically large rings of sanrio character faces, ranging from cinamoroll to my melody to kuromi.

"fine, if that's really what you want to spend 400 yen on," he had sighed. he knew you would somehow rope him into wearing the diabolical little accesory.

"i really hope we get my melody and kuromi! y'know it's basically canon that they like each other, right?" you told him, laughing.

"i hope you know i'm not familiar with any of the sanrio lore," rin began. "but- if it's with you, it's not so bad…i guess." the last part was barely audible. you pushed him toward the white machine, with a little "you first!"

to his fortune (or now his misfortune, he figured) he did indeed manage to obtain the black kuromi ring you had wanted him to wear. his attention then shifted to you. you were crouched down over the machine, and, wait…why were you performing a summoning ritual? you had pulled up my melody pictures on your phone and waved it around like a mystic.

"you're silly," rin deadpanned.

"but it'll work, watch this!" you shot back. the tips of your finger grasped the small wheel of the gacha machine and you turned it slowly. an opaque pink ball dropped out of the prize slot. "i did it! see?" you said smugly, giving rin a pointed look. "now you have to put yours on, so we match!"

rin sighed, but he slipped the ring onto his finger, choosing the exact same placement you had done for youself. the right ring finger?

"hey- you do know what this means right?" he asked you, a faint rose tinting his cheeks.

you giggled. "it's a promise! we're now engaged under the laws of sanrio!"

"so? what's the news?" the reporter inquires again. rin snaps back to the present, having temporarily forgotten he was in a post-match interview and on nationwide live television. oh, you must be watching too, he realizes. itoshi rin could only come up with one explanation now: the truth.

"i got it with my girlfriend the other day, she wanted to match," he says with all air of nonchalance that he can muster.

"girlfriend? mr. itoshi, you're in a relationship?" the reporter almost drops her microphone out of shock. rin feels his cheeks heat up, and he wants to smack himself for blushing on live television at the mention of you.

"yes. i have been in one for quite a while now," rin starts. "and she's the sweetest, most stunning girl in the entire universe. now if you're done asking me about my private life, do you have anything for the real game? or are we done here?"

"o-oh, yes…" the reporter babbles on about something he had done in the match and rin wraps up the interview at light speed, wanting to leave and to see you immediately.

when rin finally knocks on the door to your third floor apartment (and notices the glittery sanrio stickers plastered onto it) you open it almost instantly, with a finger pointing at his face.

"i saw your interview," you say, dragging him into your living room where he promptly sprawls out on the sofa, hiding his face in his hands. "i can't believe you forgot to take it off, it's been three days!" you laugh. "but…it was cute. really, thank you. i know how hard it must have been to tell the whole world about us,"

"it was worth it, for you," rin says softly. he's a bit embarrased now. yet he's running his fingers through your silky hair now, twisting and turning it, his lilting touch teasing your exposed shoulder and making you giggle as if being tickled. you notice the kuromi ring, still sitting on his ring finger as if it was the most rightful place for it to belong. he grabs your own right hand, lining your fingers side by side with his, grinning a little at the pink my melody on yours.

"hmmm, i love you too, rin" you reply to the boy. he pulls you closer and inhales deeply, breathing in your nectarine-like sweet perfume.

"you should come to my game next week in my jersey," he mentions suddenly. "i mean there's no point in going through the agony of having lukewarm people online trying to guess who my girl is, i want everyone to know its you." you can't help but smile up at rin. his azure eyes shine with something fragile and genuine, love. you give him a soft, small kiss, and he sighs contentedly.

"i'd love to," you promise.

a/n: if you've made it this far i luv u, this is inspired by the sanrio rings i got with my friend haha

masterlist!

[pseudowho]

Men With Big Noses

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

You accidentally let on to Hiromi Higuruma that you find his big nose sexy-- so he shows you exactly what he can do with it.

Warnings: 18+ as always, Higuruma is nearly face-sat to death and would absolutely die a happy man.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Why have you poured me another glass of wine?"

"Why not? You've had a long week. I've had a long week. And I don't want to finish the bottle alone, so..." Hiromi pressed the glass into your hand, planting a deliberately sloppy kiss on your cheek as you laughed, slapping him away, "Drink up."

Feigning disgruntlement, you mumbled into your wine as you shot Hiromi a side-eye.

He loped, slim and wiry, to the windows, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully, one hand in his pocket as he stared out over the Tokyo skyline. Your relationship was new, only just into the early stages of physical intimacy, but you caught yourself looking him up and down over the rim of your wineglass.

It was his brain that had attracted you at first. Fiercely intelligent, Hiromi appeared to see straight through you, and adore you anyway. His passion certainly wasn't limited only to his career. He was dry and sharp, but conversely so mellow at points. He kept you guessing, but never about how he felt about you. You had never found a partner so unusually thrilling as him.

But you couldn't deny...there was a certain something about how he looked that made the gears deep in your belly whir, puzzled and magnetic in your attraction towards him. But you couldn't work out what that something was.

You approached him slowly, breathing in the heady fumes of your wine as you appraised him; his eyes, and the way they turned into pools of pitch black when he looked at you? No. His fine-boned hands, so articulate and clever, that you wondered what else they could be clever with? No, not that either. His body, lithe and slim but deceptively strong? You sighed, unable to puzzle it out. You were halfway through your third glass of wine now, feeling loose, warm, intimate--

"I can't work out what it is that you find attractive about me."

You jumped, your remaining wine sloshing as he turned to you, his sloped eyes sparkling with curiosity, inquisitive and dark. You gaped for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you swore he had read your thoughts, and said the first thing that came to your head--

"Your nose." Hiromi snorted into his wineglass, hand over his eyes now as he shook with mirth. His hand lowered, fingering his big, hooked nose, and he laughed again.

"Be serious," he chastised. Your inhibition had abandoned you, emboldened by the alcohol.

"No, I...I mean it. There's something sort of...sexy about it. Men with big noses."

"Oh?" He approached you slowly, hand still in his pocket, a slow, sloping walk, "All men with big noses? Is that a kink?" Oh, those eyes. Dark and glowing, like little coals in the dark, and looking at you like that, you felt heat rush through you, so scrutinised--

"Or-- or maybe-- just yours I think. A you-specific kink. I wonder what you could do with that nose, other than-- other than--" You flushed, downing the rest of your wine. He was close now, and your skin felt electric. Not breaking eye-contact as he stared into you, he slowly reached out to take your empty glass, draining his own now and placing them both on the table.

Pulling you in with one hand on the small of your back, and the other creeping up the side of your face, he leaned over you. Still teasing you, his big eyes hooded, he ghosted the tip of his nose over the side of your neck, tracing shapes against your pulse point.

You pressed one hand against his chest, the other into his hair as you shivered.

"--other than?" he prompted. He laughed again, rich and bold, "My nose," he scoffed, "Where would you like my nose?" You blushed, mortified, and tried to shove him away for teasing you, but he held on tight, rubbing his nose gently against yours now. He kissed you, leaning you backwards, deep and convicted in his hold on you.

Your head wasn't swooping just with the wine now. Plaiting your fingers behind his neck, you suddenly didn't feel embarrassed to tell him what you wanted. You pulled away from his kiss, and he leaned his forehead against yours, nose to nose, as he stared into your eyes, your gaze shy and averted.

"Between...between my legs, maybe." You regretted it the moment you said it, hands up to slap over your eyes, cupping your red-hot cheeks, and Hiromi still didn't let go of you, his nose and lips pressing soft, tipsy kisses to your decolletage. He whispered to you, only deepening your regret.

"You could sit on my nose, if you like. Undressed, obviously." You felt his hips pressed against you, and felt his cock against you, now half-hard and growing--

You nearly imploded, stammering, "Oh please, no man actually likes that. Face-sitting is just one of those stupid things you joke about. Men don't actually like giving women oral," you scoffed, cynical and embarrassed. Hiromi raised his eyebrows, releasing you now, looking mildly offended.

"Oh dear. Another sceptic. Were your other boyfriends that bad?" You swatted him with a cloth.

"Pretend I never said anything!" You shouted in from the kitchen, "Forget about it! I'm going for a shower. There's more wine on the side if you want it."

You honestly considered drowning yourself in the shower. You'd barely even got past heavy make-out sessions, and you'd just told him you wanted his nose between your legs, you could just die of shame--

Stepping out from the shower and into your bedroom, you squeaked to find Hiromi lying on his back on your bed, the top of his shirt unbuttoned, and as he saw you, he smiled loosely and rubbed one of your pillows over his face.

"What are...what are you doing?"

"Polishing your seat, of course."

You melted against the wall, mortified, gripping your towel in one hand and covering your eyes with the other. You heard slow footsteps creep up behind you, long-fingered hands pulling you against a hard torso, feeling Hiromi's nose rub behind your ear. Despite yourself, your eyes fluttered closed, wanting him.

"I think you'd like it," Hiromi insisted, voice low and convincing, "and I like it when you tell me what you want. It's...bold. Honest. Sexy." You moaned softly as he pressed into you from behind, his cock hard and insistent against your body, and he loosened the front of your towel to snake his clever fingers to your breast, fingers brushing it softly at first before cupping and giving an appreciative squeeze.

"So please sit on my nose. And the rest of my face." You bit your lip...and slowly nodded. You felt warm air huff out of Hiromi's nose behind your ear, "Good girl."

Spinning you round, Hiromi pulled you in for a deep kiss, the wine heavy on both of your tongues as he slipped his against yours, probing, curious. You accepted warmly, your hands tracing down to untuck his shirt from his trousers, your hand slipping flat against his abdomen and trail of dark, wiry hair, and Hiromi shivered, tongue trembling against yours.

He fell back onto the bed, pulling your legs up to straddle his lap, panting and kissing the sides of your throat as you unbuttoned his shirt, your fingers gliding over the taut muscles of his shoulders in appreciation. He nuzzled you, hooked nose rubbing over the shell of your ear, unintentionally bucking his cock up against your unclothed  sex as your fingers grazed his nipples in their exploration of his torso.

"I can't wait...I want to taste you," he insisted, breathless, his eyes dipped and flinty as he fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him, but holding you upright by the hips. Suddenly shy, so aware of your body with those smouldering eyes looking up at you, Hiromi sensed your hesitation and grabbed your knees, scooting you up his body so you were straddling his upper chest.

With your legs parted, you felt his breath roll over your folds, now so wet with your arousal, and Hiromi stared up at you, seeming grave in his devoted assessment of your face as he traced his hands up your thighs, two fingers slipping idly between your legs to rub a long stroke from entrance to clit and back again. He sighed, thrilled to feel you plant a hand on his abdomen, grounding yourself as he started to rub smooth circles over your clit.

"You're perfect, and those other guys didn't  deserve you," he insisted, slipping his fingers teasingly close to your entrance as you let out a breathy moan, and Hiromi stared at his fingers, scientific in his appreciation of how your arousal was glazed over them.

Raising his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, Hiromi stopped, considering. He placed his wet fingers over your towel instead, gripping your hips.

"No," he puzzled, "I want to taste you straight from the source." You squeaked as he dragged your knees and hips upwards again, your pussy now hovering directly over his face. Hiromi lifted his face, looking at you with a glint in his eyes, "Sit."

You hesitated, and Hiromi pressed his nose up, nuzzling it between your folds and pressing it firmly against your clit, holding your hips tightly as you jolted and gasped, never realising that nose could feel so good on your aching core. Thighs trembling, you lowered your weight until you sat directly on Hiromi's nose, mouth and chin.

Hiromi got to work like a starving man, groaning with desire as he nuzzled his nose and mouth between your puffy folds, his nose rubbing firmly over your clit as his tongue sank as far as it could into your hole, and you cried out, gripping his hair tightly with one fist, and grasping his hand on your hip with another.

As the firm tip of his nose rubbed insistently on your clit, making you burn with pleasure, you involuntarily ground your pussy down onto his face, and mewled when his shaky moan vibrated through you. Hiromi began to move your hips above him, encouraging you to hump his mouth and nose while his tongue alternated between dipping into you, and flicking against your clit as Hiromi sucked it into his mouth.

Your pleasure building, your cries and the hand grasping his hair becoming more and more urgent, Hiromi squeezed his rigid cock through his trousers, determined not to embarrass himself by cumming untouched while you humped his face. But as precum leaked through his trousers, wet on his thigh, Hiromi was drunk with the taste of you, sweet and natural, and he felt his cock throbbing as he neared his release.

Hiromi rocked your hips urgently against his face, his nose creating a constant alternating pressure on your clit, and you felt your belly tighten, pressing yourself down on his nose in a desperate need to cum, babbling his name in sweet praise.

With one last determined nuzzle against your clit, you shook, waves of pressure breaking through your whole lower body and Hiromi moaned, hips bucking against the air as he tasted and smelled you, overwhelmed by the authentic intimacy of the moment, feeling streams of cum soaking his boxers as he came completely untouched.

You moaned, short little mewls as you came down from your high. Gathering yourself, you shifted yourself down onto Hiromi's chest, looking down at him, blushing and concerned. You had never seen a man look so delighted with so much cum on his face. You were baffled, and of a mind to marry this man.

"Any man that actually likes women, sweetheart," Hiromi panted, dazed, "Would happily die like that."

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Love you Hiromi Higuruma, MWAH! 😌☕

[churipu]

OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.

note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33

��𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.

"'toru, do you think i look—"

gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.

"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."

gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.

the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.

his comment made you break a small smile.

"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.

"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.

a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"

the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.

nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.

"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).

but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."

groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."

nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.

"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."

he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."

you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"

"pepper spray."

"check."

"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."

"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.

"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

"y/n, do you — oh, wow."

yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.

you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"

yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"

shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"

he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.

"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"

yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.

mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."

he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.

all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.

"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.

"any movies?"

you nod, "any movies."

"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.

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