#condom and apple

[tonycries]

JUICY!

Synopsis. The first time the cóndom breaks? Raw, next question.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cóndom tearing, unprotected, creampíes, they’re PÚSSYDRÚNK, breaking furniture, GOJO’S POWERS, first time raw, going feraI, brèeding, proposals, true form Sukuna, dp, manhandIing, full neIsons, headIocks, best friend!Ino, spítting, p talking, p sIapping, they’re big, tummy buIges, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week!

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 10/10

“O-oh.” His gruff baritone echoes out a slight crack - a crack. Toji Fushiguro never lets his voice shake, he never stutters. You gaze over your clammy shoulder in confusion as the knobbly shape of his Adam’s apple bobs dryly, “It…broke.”

Honestly, with Toji’s sheer barreling size, how could that flimsy lil’ rubber not have broken?

Callused fingertips dig ravenously upon either side of your hips, you’re feeling the ends of his curly happy trail scratch your back as he motions to pull out—

“Oh my god, doll. Doll.” Right before scorching panted gasps hit the middle of your spine and he’s moving his sculpted v-line to rut- animalistically. “You- you feel like-” Buck after buck. Groans strangled, eyes half-lidded, one of Toji’s massive palms come slamming down on the rickety headboard. “-th-this?”

“S’alright.” Toji flinches once your pretty voice speaks up, dazed pupils looking anywhere but at your cutely needy expression. “I wan’ it raw, Toji–”

“R-raw?”

You gawk as veins start decorating his flexing forearm, pointed knuckles white where he was gripping onto the bedframe for dear life. It snap-snap-snaps! faintly underneath his strength, “What have I said about talking outta ya haaaah- pussy, mama?”

“To not.” Your lower lip puckers into a pout that makes him gulp, his head shaking slightly in an effort to regain his senses. “But m’not- see?”

CRACK! That mahogany now fully splintered underneath his carnally itching digits, “You’re- oh.”

To prove your point, your knees push firmly against the springy bedcoils and grind backwards in a slooooow figure-eight that makes his bawling tip slurp ‘round your walls. That makes the hulking man bite back handful of raspy whimpers-

Oh. Making the big, bad Toji whimper?

Though, how could he not when the torn ends of the condom were flapping open to let him gift your deepest insides with the slowest, wettest smooch. Every miniature movement making the crowned top of his swollen cockhead splatter out heavy bucketloads of pre that stuck to your cervix in a steaming hot gloss. Slipping n’ sliding.

Toji flinches as he feels your bloated lips struggle to clench around his plump circumference. So soft. So warm. 

“Warm?” Fuck- did he say that out loud? You’re letting your spit-glued mouth curve up into a smile at the way his maw drops with drunken realization. “See? I told you I-”

He cuts you off with a grumble of something that sounds like ‘shaddup.’ And it almost gives you whiplash when, in mere nanoseconds, Toji forces himself to reel back n’ leave your gooey innards squeezing instinctively around nothing - for only the briefest, quickest moment before completely tugging that tattered rubber off of him and sheathing himself silly.

“Can’t- can’t even- fuck! Why does it feel so fuckin’ good-” 

Lazy and savoring every mushy ridge and crevice inside of your wet pussy. 

Your words croon out, “More- more.”

He snickers, though there’s something octaves higher in his tonality - something unsteady. Abs tensing as he slouches over, Toji traps your throat in a headlock and growls, “T-take it then. Take it take it, dammit.”

It was almost ridiculous just how much he was throbbing, leaving your legs weak every time his puffy veins rawly massaged a lil’ ba-dump–! on top of the tenderest spots along your elastic walls. 

“Ngh- To-Tooooji! S’in sooo deep.” You scramble, your body thrashing once a meaty, capped knee pushes up against the base of your spine to make you bend.

“Tha’s it- yeah. Aaaaarch f’me, atta girl.”

“You feel so ngh–” Torrents of sappy saliva dribble out of your mouth and drench the poor pillows see-through, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the swerving crashes of his perfectly spherical crownhead. Over n’ over. “-feels so gooood!”

He was ruthless, pillaging your treasure trove of sensitive spots with bruising batters. Deeper. Deeper.

And you’re so caught up in Toji’s relentless cadence that you almost don’t notice the way his husky breaths grow quieter, something like awe shining in those jade eyes. 

Not until a wet splat! of slobber hits your back, “Fuck. Fuck! N’ you can feel me t-too, huh? You- you can feel me- c-can really feel me. Heh- can feel me fucking you all deep inside, huh?” Honed canines nibble down on your earlobe as you nod, pinning you down with his hefty weight. “Can ya feel every thrust? Every inch? Every vein, mama?”

“Yes- yes yes yes yesss–!” Comes out your garbled answer, tiny sobs hiccuping at the back of your throat at the sheer force of his gyrations. Toji was fucking a bright red branding onto his humidly perspired pelvis in memoir of you. 

“A-always wanted to try something…count them.”

“Wh-what?”

“Count.” It takes a few slimy snogs to your gummy cervix before you’re realizing what he means, the underside of one of his zig-zagging lightning bolts slithering just against your g-spot and making you whine. 

He wanted you counting every winding vein without the condom on.

“O-one.” You’re shrilling out, and Toji was so gone that his glassy irises dilated pure Stygian black. Tendrils of his shaggy bangs tickling the back of your neck, he’s aligning his thick, rock-hard length to rub your sweet walls with two more prominent veins. “Two- hck! three.”

Awe-struck, funneling in great heaving gasps to grunt out, “Ohhh, atta- atta girl. S’that it?”

“No- ngh-” One more vein wrapping underneath the ridge of his slippery slit, two more where his glittery glossed hilt was bulging your entrance wiiiidely agape. And you’re crawling away from the slamming impact of his rummaging strikes. “Six- six!”

“Good giiiirl.”

Leaving you so sappily wet with aroused pre, Toji’s filthy headlock curls tighter around your neck and puuuulls your boneless body further into him.

Practically melting into you. He had you bowed like such a slut, your back glissading down every bumpy ridge of his sweat-dampened abs. You’re counting eight of them in your fuzzy mind before Toji’s calmed his harrowing breaths down enough to spit out, “Don’t run. W-we are going to have soooo much fun, doll.”

And that certainly couldn’t have boded well for your poor pussy.

Because without warning, he slips off a free hand down to cradle the rotund outline on your tummy where his bludgeoning mushroom tip was stirrin’. A thick sensory pad daring to push down–

“Fuh-fuuuuuck—” Toji’s dark brows furrow at the shocks of pressure, biceps bulging once he tightens his lecherous hold on you. You turn to see then that a languid smile rests upon his face as his hips give you a thorough pound, easily pinpointing your g-spot with a beaded few slivers of precum. “N’ when we’re ngh- done…” A soft peck skims across your lips, almost mockingly innocent. “M’gonna hafta buy you about ten Plan Bs.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Princess treatment

“...my w-wife.”

“Yes, Ken–?” You’re cooing in a low, honeyed tone - the exact type that makes your towering husband bite back a primal snarl. Gasping. Heaving. 

Your hands tighten on the fringe of his work desk, splayed out on top of so many documents like a slut. You’re about to ask again before-

“My…wife.” Nanami’s handsome jaw shuts with a sharp click! rasping grunts threatening to escape his stern lips as if he couldn’t even control them. He loosens his silky yellow tie still on, “I-I can’t- oh…my god. M’gonna marry you- m’gonna marry you.” Trying - yearning for some semblance of control before the blushing hot cap of his cockhead skims your slicked entrance once more and he’s shivering all over again, “The- the condom- broke.”

And the way your pretty mouth falls into a sweet oh! only makes that clingy rubber crack open even further, completely useless against the way that his pounding length was endlessly growing. Bigger. Thicker. 

So many copious bloated inches stiffening up until the ridges n’ puffy veins on his cock rip past even the stretchiest condom - your husband grew so big.

Sensually, your hot fluttering insides squeeze around him just once more and it’s enough for Nanami’s forehead to fall into the crook of your neck with a groan. Sweaty blond bangs gluing to your feverish skin, “Don’t- don’t do that, my love- I hafta pull out…hafta- new condom.”

But for every slimy inch that he was squeezing out of your tight pussy, Nanami was stirring in two more. Chasing the slippery smooch of your raw cunt slurping his rummaging length, enough to drive the man mad.

“Well, you don’t have to.” You’re piping up, knees weakening at the way his strawberry divot squelches out an excited lil’ wad of pre at the notion. 

And he’s wasting no time scooping up a clingy hold on your hips, supporting your weight until the globes of your ass were swung almost midair as he pounded you into his frigid desk. “You- you just said–” Guttural, generous lungfuls of air being intaken to help him secure his breath, following every plap after plap after plap. “-you want me to- ohhhh–” 

It’s as if his intelligent mind was clouding over after even a glimpse downwards at the way your raw folds were glossing out such a thick frothing of slick all down his girth. Stuffed to the brim and throbbing as his ringed finger pries apart your glittery folds to see - just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

You’re so wet that it’s splattering everywhere, and he easily slides out the now-useless condom in-between sloppy slams. Muttering to himself as if in disbelief, “Really…really want it raw- fuck!” 

“Ken- mmpf–!”

And just as soon as Nanami’s fully barreling cock sheaths fully rawly inside of you, your husband’s pinning you laid flat on top of the desk - hiccuping, flinching, simply taking a second to let his thick, veiny shaft draaaag around your dripping wet cunt. 

“O-oh.” You’re feeling his meaty thighs kissed behind your own shiver once the dribbling orifice homed on top of his cockhead pushes a deep crater into your spongy cervix. A slurring slew of swears leaves him, gasping. “You– m’really gonna m-marry you, darlin’.”

“Kentooo–” Your hips lurch up n’ down whilst he remains sluggishly unmoving, as if he couldn’t bring himself to unless he wanted to snap. Struggling to push onto your elbows with the way the sheer stretch had you dizzy, it’s like he was impaling you sinfully. “-we a-already married. Fuck- need you to move- please-”

“A-already married?”

In disbelief, his molten eyes flit from the matching wedding rings on your fingers to the way you were adorably whining and begging for his cock.

And he feels his mouth water-

“S-so we’re…married.” Words coming out dry, harsh. But there was something so darkly sexy in his usually-gentle tone that it made your adhesive-like walls clench- “Fuck! Don’t-”

Before you know it - before even Nanami seems to know it - that speckled tie dangling from his neck finds its way wrapped around your wrists, tight. The ends of his thick fingertips holding onto the restraint and tugging you bodily, “Don’t move- don’t you dare– fuuuuck I could cum from just that. I-if you want it raw, you needa hah- behave, my love.”

Honestly, he could’ve cum just from the way your sugary insides were pulsing around him. Just from the way you were so gorgeous underneath him like this.

You’re whimpering, eyes slithering to the dark depths of your head when his mazing divot probes ‘round your tender innards. Tugging on the tie, “Ken- S’sooo good, Ken–”

“Shhhh shh sh, I know I know–” And you swear he seems to grow even bigger at the velvety springs of slick leaking out of you, pulling your walls so taut that you could almost scream. The snaking patterns of his veins dig even further into your sweet spots, thicker. Bigger. 

Fuck- was Nanami getting even harder. Throbbing and throbbing every ounce of blood in his body, his temperature was just as feverish as his pace now that he didn’t have that damn rubber anymore. 

“O-oh…my god.” A shrilling wail seems to break out from your lips, speckles of saliva glossing your chin as they flap stupidly. “You got- you got even b-bigger, Ken–”

His plowing circumference snags on your rubbery hole, and he’s thumbing down between your sleek slick to help himself sink into your pretty cunt. “Lemme do a-all the work my…my wife.” You watch in awe as Nanami’s face breaks out into a dopey, pussydrunk grin at those very words. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife– such a filthy pussy you have.”

“Wh-what if it gets too big-”

With a thunderous bang! one of Nanami’s thick, muscular thighs comes striking on top of the flat plane of the desk.

Angling his stubby mushroom tip to poke the target of your g-spot like a dartboard, his wobbly lips graze your temple with a hum. “Take it- all you h-have to do is take it.” You’re keening with every mercilessly bludgeoning whack planted towards the very back of your pussy, “Follow my finger-”

“H-huh–” Flapping open your heavy, tear-dampened lashes, you’re following the lines that Nanami begins to draw straightly down your tummy.

All the way from the fat of your pussymound n’ up, up, up to where his bottomed-out length was pushing a circular bruise deeply into your cervix. Back and forth. 

“Uuuuup n’ down-”

And it was just as much to make him hold onto his rationality just as much as it was for you, “U-up and down.”

“Yeah? Yeahhhh–?” Nanami coos down at you, the edges of his plump lips twisting into such a sleazy smirk. And right now you were too dumb to even realize if he was pulsating even fatter, “S’not too big hah- now, huh? Look at you taking it like a champ- like my ngh- wife.”

Every uncovered pummel made his body tremble— but the only problem was that he couldn’t stop his foggy glasses from slipping. Hands reaching up to push and push, but he was so pussydrunk that he missed. 

“Kentooo–” His dumbifying pace coaxed a few carnal mewls out of you, shakily nudging your husband’s glasses to their rightful position so that he could gaze greedily down at you. 

The way your back arched off of the now-moistened desk into the perfect curvature, hips rutting–

“Oh.” Nanami’s sudden, harrowed gasp makes you still - almost. Before he’s scrambling a free hand to dangle off of your slamming flesh and manhandle you back into your swervin’ gyrations, genuinely asking. “Y-you’re my wife- but are you the hah- mother of my kids, yet, my love?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Maxxximum

You’re whimpering as soon as Geto’s thickly padded fingertips descend down to your slobbering slit, thumb and index softly caressing it with a coo. “Awww she wants more, pretty pussy—” Before pinching—

“Fuh-fuck–!” Your head throws back and lands directly on top of his sharp collarbone, body writhing in this filthy full nelson he’d manhandled you into. Was pinning you down into- “Suguru- Sugu- don’t care about the condom, just put it iiiin–”

“Oh, you slut.” He’s mocking a hollow breath, curling his left hand ‘round your waist to glissade your back down his sweat-streaked core. Geto’s broad chest vibrates as he tuts, “And after you said that it was ‘t-t-too much–’”

Truly, he was so mean.

And the only thing meaner than Geto was the way he fucked - striking, vicious rams inside your dripping wet pussy that not even a condom could handle. It’d only taken a few merciless pounds into the deepest, goopiest depths of your cunt until he’d torn it clean through.

Needily, you’re edging your squirming hips further down his toned body. Hiccuping at every bumpy ridge of his abs as you inclined closer to the heated, throbbing length between his long legs–

“Whoops- upsy daisy.” He’s muttering smugly to himself as he draaaaags you back up to where you’d been splayed out all prettily, accidentally bucking upwards so that his crowned, cherry-red tip scrapes straight down your pussylips- fuck.

Gasping, rutting– and it’s all that Geto Suguru can do to try and force out a crazed little titter to try and save his cocky act. “W-well.” Throat dry, he’s never been more thankful that your beautiful eyes were too dazed to catch onto his angry blush. “Since you’re sooo desperate, gorgeous- beg.”

“P-please.”

Aligning the silver orb of his Prince Albert’s to give your flooded entrance a welcoming kiss, frigid and sinful. “More. Tell me you wan’ it raw.”

“Please, Sugu–” Your dewy lips flap desperately at the feeling of that metal piercing decorating the tip-top crown of his bloated cockhead, slick with so many numerous layers of glittering pre that splat! splat! splattered! down onto your pussymound. Your widened, shiny eyes turn to him, “J-just want you raw.”

Oh. Geto Suguru hadn’t even stopped to consider this being his first feeling of your cute cunt without a condom before he’s sinking in.

Slow, aching glides just to fit past that tightly ‘rounded entrance of yours and- shit, were you always this fucking tight?

“S-so soft…” He’s breathing out into your ear without realizing, the rounded curve of his ballsack flinching tenderly at the gummy feeling of your walls hugging him. Before he’d even realized, Geto was fucking addicted. 

He was salivating at the feeling of your velvety walls dripping goblets of slick down his veins, long raven lashes fluttering. Almost in disbelief - “So sweet-” And then your sweltering hot insides squeeze and– “So….”

Geto doesn’t even have the words to describe - doesn’t even have the brainpower. 

Only scrambling his tense fingertips urgently down to your pulsating damp clit and pinching- “C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon-” Gnawing down on his plush lower lip, “Squeeze me a-again, gorgeous–” 

“O-oh my god…Suguru.” 

Head dazed and heavy, the only thing that gives you some semblance of clearance is the splashing speckles of something wet sprinkling against your cheek. Oozing. And only after lifting your head from the musky nape of Geto’s neck do you realize that he was slobbering. A thin line of spit that hung off of the rosy-pink edges of his lips.

Gasping, “A-are you drooling?”

Fuck- was he? Nose wrinkling in almost-endearing fury, Geto’s nudging your jaw agape to scoop up his excess saliva and spit. Missing.

So dazed right now that he’s splattering about half of the webbed wad beside the unfastened corners of your mouth. A shimmering sheen that he can’t help but crane his head over to kiss away–

“S-so fuckin’ what?” Geto growls from the hoarse back of his throat, punishing your pussy with those signature rude thrusts of his. The ridges of his v-line scratch brandingly into the base of your spine, his thick thighs parting as he bludgeons his achy, sagging cock deeper. “Who’s fuckin’ idea were haaa condoms anyway? Looks so much prettier droolin’ over me l-like this. So much sweeter–”

He was so big that even the tiniest of gyrations had Geto reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, the circular decoration of his piercing acting like a spotlight mazing past every glutinous wall. Striking your g-spot dead on- “S-so much chattier.”

And he wasn’t just talking about those sweetly wailing sobs being torn out of you with every hammering thrust- no. 

Your perfect pussy was just as talkative, even more so now that he was rubberless - every slippery sliiiide slurring out the wettest, loudest songs of squelches that make Geto’s ears burn red.

You’re twistin’ and turning with every slap! of his breeder balls skin-to-skin with the treacly base of your cunt, babbling. “Sugu- fuck- Suguru—”

Tugging on one of his long, inky locks that makes him let out a soft oi! He’s squeezing his prolonged, manicured digits around your clit and draaaagging in return.

Grumbling from behind, “H-honestly- s’that all you know to say?” Though, he doesn’t sound the tiniest bit upset, “Ya can’t talk or you just hah- want her to?” Another pinch on your knobbled clit, another squeeze that makes Geto groan your name like a prayer. Sluuuurping, “Talkative girl- might as well let her make the speeches for the association instead o’ me.”

Hit after precise hit, the globular curve of his tip was spearheading you to the maximum. 

And Geto’s only growing more animalistic, more drunken – bottoming out till his strawberry-flavored orifice digs into your cervix and he’s forced to bite down on your shoulder to keep from whimpering.

“S-speaking of-” The warble in his baritone voice made your heart race, Geto’s bloated cock giving a sultry lil’ ba-dump–! that you feel all the way in your throat. He whispers scratchily into your ear, “I hear the association has a meeting in here soon…”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Hey, emo boy!

“M’gonna put it in now, baby—” Choso’s breezy summer breaths fan your face, and the cute mahogany eyes he looks down at you with are sparkling. “M’gonna…”

Pushing apart your jittery legs with a slow sluuuurp–! emanating from your sap-glued folds, you’re watching with a coo as he furiously fists his angrily swollen cock at simply the sight of you. Hips bucking into his hand, condom stretching with every growing inch he’s filling out–

“S’gonna be a bit of a hngh- stretch.” He’s gulping, and the scent of his vanilla cologne wafts through your senses as Choso slouches in close. So close. An open palm resting on the mound of your pussy, “S’gonna be- oh.”

He’s not just gasping, he’s heaving.

Lurching back his strong hips, Choso’s rosy lips gape at the singular line of glistening slick that connects his bawling divot to your hole. Winking and just as needy as he is.

“Cho– are you okay, baby?”

A full-bodied shiver running viscerally throughout his limbs, your poor boyfriend grits down on the soft insides of his cheek hard enough to taste iron– “Baby–” He’s strangling out through a honeyed syrup watering his tastebuds, “-baby i-it broke.”

Your mouth drops into a perfectly sweet ‘o’ once you’re taking a look downwards for yourself, the sprayed sheen from between your inner thighs smearing against each other as you clench. “Aww, you pulled it too far down, Cho–” And before he can open his mouth with a few desperate apologies, you’re plowing on- “But, I don’t really mind…”

Choso pinches himself once, twice– he pinches himself five times already until his veined forearm was red n’ raw just to make sure that this was real life. 

The very same pinkish flush that was capping the top of his glistening globed tip, streaming out such thick wads of pre that were now beginning to plug up your quivering entrance.

“Choso?”

“Fuh-fuck–!” The fattened pad of his thumb comes collapsing down to cover the sobbing orifice homed at the end of his heavy, throbbing cock. So hard now that his length was beginning to sag n’ spank down on your bloated pussylips with a wettened thwack! “M’sorry- sorry I hafta- or else I’ll cum.”

“I don’t mind.” Ohhhh, Choso had half the mind to plant his ringed fingers over your mouth and make you stop him from losing it. “Wan’ it inside though, baby.”

“I-inside.” Comes out his echoing repetition, hazed peripherals falling to and fro from your needy expression to the way his cherry-red shaft lay sandwiched between your leaking folds.

Ba-dump–! Ba-dump–! Ba-dump–! Right where your perked clit was jolting in carnal tandem with his girth. Fat and aching for but the tiniest touch that it’s almost as if on autopilot that he’s tearing off the rest of that useless condom and letting his sensitive underside sliiiiide–

“O-oh shit.” Choso’s groaning out, half-blindly guiding one of your hands to latch onto his damp locks so that you could pull— stopping himself from throwing his head back because all he wanted to look at was you, you, you.

“Easy there- easy now, Cho.” You hum, the lecherous grin twisting your lips ever-growing once he’s squeezing and squeezing his curvaceous head just past your entrance - sensually. 

Ragged, mindless thrusts that fit his wide length inside - Choso was just so big that only a singular plump inch inside and you’re damn near being driven mad.

And that’s exactly all that it takes - an inch. 

An inch stuffed inside of your velvety, plush cunt before Choso snaps his hips and cums. Over. And over. And over. In thick, saccharine ribbons that dollop down the sides of your channel and stir like a slushy every time he’s swivelin’ his pointed tip into your softest innards. 

“Shit- shit shit shit I can’t believe I-”

“No need to be hngh! shy.”

“But I-”

“I-insiiiide-” Your arms wrap around his neck and crash an open-mouth kiss that he whimpers into, sharpened canines nibbling on your bottom lip like a candied gum. Hollow, rasping breaths every time he’s fucking and fucking his pounding cock. “All- all inside- fuck–”

And then your rubbery ring of muscle snags on one of his slimily scraping veins and tightens– “N-now tha’s just unfair.” He hiccups, dark eyeliner smearing with every gulping sluuuuurp your winking pussy milks out. “-sh-she feels like heaven.”

You’re flinching as one of his sensory tips scrape the milky outer edges of your sloped pussy, puddling a glutinous few cobwebs of seed that he promptly glides across your lips like a staining ivory gloss. Kissing you. 

“So soft. So…warm w-with my cum–” He’s drawling out, feverish forehead hitting yours with a dull thud. Choso’s boring dead-on into your hazily dilated pupils as his orifice constantly pumps out sploshes of sappy cum, “Think m’gonna m-marry her hngh- you. Her. You.”

“You’re too cute, baby–” You’re huffing n’ puffing with every pap! of his humid v-line stinging the base of your dripping cunt.

And Choso might have been sweet, but the way he was fucking you into the mattress was definitely not. Anything but. 

Brows furrowed, nerves on his neck popping, snarling his teeth like an animal— he’s gnawing down on the globes of your shoulder and drilling his swollen length into you like he was crazed. Feral. Your treasure trove of honeyed spots being upturned like never before, even when Choso was bludgeoning his hips back at the recoil you could still feel his probin’ circular bruises.

“Yours–” He’s punctuating his pants with a sharp gust of that particular word, like a mantra. Warm globules of drool and eyeliner seeping into your skin, “Yours yours yours- yours.”

You’re whimpering at the chilling drag of his pierced tongue swabbing down your bottom lip, “H-haaa, baby– cum in me once m-more, m’kaaaay–?”

“P-pinch me.”

With a questioning glint in your gaze, you’re pinching Choso and watching as he all but melts at the pinpricking pain. So he wasn’t dreaming.

Collapsing his hefty bodyweight on top of yours until the bumps of his washboard abs kept on glissadin’ down your front, moaning. “S-so it’s real. It’s real.”

Hiccuping, trembling. 

“M’gonna cum- gonna c-cum alllll for you now, baby—” He’s hissing through gleaming clenched teeth, and something in his voice shakes. Pitches octaves higher, “M’gonna cum- c-cum until you can’t- even- fit- it- and- and in return…”

Pound after pound after pound and yet Choso still finds the time to tenderly cradle your dominant hand and curl it possessively around his neck. Groaning, “-choke me.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - MILKYWAY?!

“Shit- shit, look at the mess you’re making.”

More like the mess that Sukuna himself was making - all in thick, clumpy ribbons of cum that poured from the crevice of your pussylips. It made such a saturated lil’ puddle on his cursed pair of lips, licking and grinning at the way your poor pussy couldn’t keep up with his sheer loads.

And, clearly, those puny human condoms couldn’t either.

“Keh– don’t need this shit anyway.” He’s scattering away the shattered remnants of rubber, holding your pretty hips hovering up in their cute lil’ reverse cowgirl as he watched you driiiiiip–

“R-raw, Kuna?” Your whimpering wails ring over the sultry squelches of his second tongue sliding up n’ down your puffy bloated folds. Every dragging movement of his globular tip making you flinch oh-so-adorably on top of his sculptured hips. “Can you even handle it?”

A thorough spank! on the globes of your ass leaves you whimpering instead, Sukuna’s snickers bellowing out. “Who’d you think yer talking to?”

“W-well if I get pregnant, I want a hngh- daughter though-”

“Tch- daughter or son, you’ll get my hah- heir, brat.” 

Precariously, you’re being jostled on top of him as he slouches back on his royal bed, third and fourth hands thumbing at your soppily glued-together folds and watching as their smeeeear with milky cum. 

A sploshing trail of it follows from the inner parts of Sukuna’s thick thighs to right where his dual raw mushroom tips were swabbing your sloppy entrance. Just the slightest smooch of his feverish, sensitive shaft slits leaves the king hissing– “N’ you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, mama.”

And oh- oh, fuck.

Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t prepared for this.

For the way your velvety folds pry apart and swallow him like your pretty pussy was starving. Rummaging length being bustled deeper n’ deeper, you were so fucking hot inside that he’s fighting not to let his crimson eyes sprint to the back of his head.

“O-oh you’re–” And Sukuna’s gruff baritone cracks; no matter how much he’s clearing his throat, it’s holed with so many voice breaks that you’re turning your head ‘round and smirking.

“Did you just-”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

He’s burning, feverish.

Another stinging slap and a few skitters of cursed energy flow through your body - like the lecherous brush of his bawling, swollen cocks was enough for him to be losing control over his own powers. 

“S-so this is what this pretty lil’ cunt feels like- hah-” With a solid plunge, he’s spearheading those plump, split-ended heads until they mark two fat circles on your sponged cervix. 

Your fluttering folds peck his coral-pink happy trail, tastebuds simmering with what felt like the savory taste of him - bottoming out, and Sukuna finds his devilish eyes fucking welling with tears. Head tumbling back because you were so soft and warm and tight. So, so tight–

“Tight, huh?” Did he even realize he was babbling all this out loud? Your lip-slicked lips struggle not to wobble into a dumbified pout, pupils wandering the whites of your eyes in circles every time his silky girths brushed up against you and each other and you– 

With a grouchy grumble, Sukuna’s planting another solid thwack! of his monstrously large fingertips on your right asscheek - or, at least, he tries to. 

Oh, does he try. 

The roughened plane of his palm coming down - missing. Hips instead bucking upwards with three repeated whacks into the bottom of your pussy, he’s caressing the slurping lips of your bulging cunt instead with an almost whine– “K-know your hck! place, human.”

Almost whining.

The lecherous ends of his second tongue slither around the sheeny insides of your thighs and start to toy lil’ hearts on top of your perked clit. Leaving Sukuna to ram, leaving Sukuna to gasp– “You’re never gettin’ off easy after this- oh, you’re never getting off easy.”

“Wh-what do you…” Your stupidly saliva-filled mouth goes completely dry at the look of complete and utter raw need on his face.

Eyes struggling to bat open, mouth glittery with spit, nostrils flared once he’s punishing the insides of your dripping wet cunt one slam. Two. Three. “Gonna hafta let m f-feel this ngh cute cunt allllll the fuckin’ time now, mama.” He’s croaking out through ragged bursts of breath, latched so deeply on your hips that he was clawing at you now. “Gonna hafta- feel her- breed her.”

“You- you already are–” You’re crying out at the jiggling cylindrical bulge being furiously fucked into your tummy, Sukuna’s barreling lengths pinpointing parts of you you didn’t even know existed with his swashing webs of cum. 

Over and over.

“You think this is me heh- breeding you, brat?” Glowing crimson eyes widen at you, feral. “This- no no no no- this s’me fucking you–” He’s creeping up a vice-like hold on your perspired neck, keeping you from crawling away – keeping you hostage to every vicious plap! of his rugged v-line hips. Matching twin cockheads stirrin’ you from the inside out, “-twice.”

Filthy, filthy splotches of pre leave a mess that slips from your treacly slit. You were so wet that you’re practically sobbing steamy torrents of sap that glistens down his thighs, and Sukuna’s finding himself in fucking heaven.

“Ohhh m’gonna breed ‘er-” He growls through his clenched teeth, abs tensing until the globes of your ass slipped over the ends of every ridge. “Breed her every day- every h-hour-”

Your body jerks at the sweltering hot gusts of his pants striking you from behind, attempting to keep up with his vulgar, vulgar pace. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuuuck. Dunno if I’ll last, Kuna–”

“Cum-” And the curling corners of his grin slant with something predatory, murky pheromones leaving your brain hypnotically heady. “-the momma’s s’pposed ta cum if we want a baby.” He didn’t even believe in old wives’ tales, but the way you moved your hips made him so dumbstruck. 

And you didn’t know who was faring worse - him or you once you’re letting him fuck you through your filthy high. 

The sparks n’ waves of your orgasm crashing into you all at once, Sukuna’s dabbing your tenderized g-spot with so many hits upon hits. Milking your high, ravaging his naturally veined cock until every inch of him was raw n’ red - so pussydrunk that he doesn’t even realize he’s bulldozed into his own high until you register it first.

“Sukuna—” Your mouth dangles wetly open, breezing gales of gasps ripping from you with every weighty splat! of something wet and gooey at the back of your pussy. Double the probes to your g-spot, double the ribbony wires of seed sprinkling into you - he’s never using a condom ever again as far as you let him.

“O-oh, mama…”

And the king of curses was so mesmerized at the creamy frothing dripping out of you. Sticky, syrupy white that glues to the backs of your thighs and makes his second mouth water - so much so that he doesn’t even realize that he’d whimpered. 

♡ INO TAKUMA - H.O.T.T.O.G.O.

“M’fucking you- I-I’m really fucking you-” The last word of that sentence ends up strained, scratchy and gone. “...raw.”

“Taku~”

“Fuck-” It was just too cute how Ino’s blushing cheeks just barely peeked from underneath his heavy, cotton ski mask. The humid fabric sticking to his heated skin as you swerved your hips in a slooow heart–

“Aww– c’mon now, Taku.” Your fingertips scratch down the sweat-matted tendrils of your best friend’s chestnut bangs, tugging - and it makes him let off the prettiest pitched groan. And the sinful noise itself is enough for you to slip yourself down just one more swollen inch, “No need to be shy—”

“B-but raw? Seriously?” Comes his answer, head throwing back into your satin pillows at your lecherous motion. And Ino’s hands are twitching - clawing at your hips as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted you to slow down or ride the utter soul out of him. 

Traitorous hips arching off of the bed with a rickety creak–! he’s creeping his globed pink-tipped cock deeper past your softly saturated folds. Mumbling away, “F-friends don’t do this-”

“Well— d’you want me to stop, baby?” You’re scoffing, eyes flittering over to the golden foil you’d accidentally torn with your teeth. “Or, I could get another condom-”

“No.” And the answer is so sharp and hoarse that you’re both momentarily shocked - aroused. The temperature in the room rising about ten degrees, and Ino looks burning hot when his half-lidded eyes finally emerge from underneath his mask, “No.”

His slender fingerpads caving in to the curves of your hips, down. “N-no.” Ino’s gritting through clenched pearly whites as he’s grabbing a handful of your asscheeks and slamming you down. “No- no no no no- don’t move. Don’t-”

And fuck- you’re watching in awe as the realization hits him that he’s really, really inside you raw.

That heavenly gaze takes over his molten peripherals and turns them pure white with eye-curling bliss, strings of spittle departing with every babble. “Move- p-please move.”

Ino was so fucking looong that the outer parts of your thighs ached after every trawling drag from his burly base to his pink, dewy-tipped cockhead. Glossing your puffed-up pussylips over with a ribbon of creamy pre every time you bounced your hips vulgarly. 

“You should haaaah– make up your m-mind, Taku—” You’re giggling smugly, watching as his pert mouth drops deeper and deeper into an adorable oh!

“S’your fault- r-raw.” Lilting baritone cracking ‘round that last word as if his melty mind couldn’t even think to say it just yet. He’s nibbling down on the insides of his cheek with a grunt, “Your fault y-your ohhh fuck- your pussy feels t-too good, pretty–” 

Ino’s mahogany lashes flutter rapidly, blinking back shiny beads of tears at the sexy clenches n’ kisses of your gooey walls. Slouching further back, he gazes with labored breath as your parched cunt dribbles a sweltering rope of sap down one of his prominent veins. Dumbfounded. 

In love.

“Wh-why does it feel so good–” One of his thumbs brush down to your sprinkling folds as if confirming the absence of a condom. Sure, he’s had practically no experience but this was heaven. Moaning throatily, “Wh-why. Shouldn’t feel this- it shouldn’t feel this…” You’re catching a hint of something unreadable in his eyes as he drifts his fiery gaze to you, “C-can you write my name, sweetness?”

And how could you not listen to that request?

Copping a solid handful of his battle-toned pecs, you’re balancing yourself enough to spell out a sloppy T-A-K-U-M-A with his barreling girth - weakened bedsprings singing as you do. The swirlin’ on those U’s especially poking his cream-capped crownhead into your favorite nooks and crannies. 

Ino’s widened gaze glasses over as his muddled mind follows every letter and every squelching draaaaaag of his name. 

Letting a few slimy veins skid directly into a clash with your g-spot and watching as you whine– “Oh….birthing hips” He gasps as if just coming to the realization. 

“Birthing hips?” You’re cooing in amusement.

And Ino can only nod and nod and nod. Plunging his hips needily upwards to chase that engulfing snog of his ridged slit gliding along your silken insides. Soft. “Gonna make me lose it-” He’s gasping, free arm shooting up to curl around your neck and dragging you into a filthy, filthy French kiss. 

“T-Taku mmm—” You’re blabbing out, stupid on the way his tufts of tawny hair rubbed up against your clit so deliciously. 

“Gonna make me l-lose it–” And then you clench and Ino slobbers - he was fully fucked-out, gone. A blossoming blush taking over his body like a heatwave, silken locks heavy with perspiration until he had to just spy through them, cock twitching. “-gonna make me- oh…gonna m-make me…propose.” 

Before you can even think of responding to his little confession, he’s summoning every existing ounce of strength in his body to clamber up onto his elbows. Glittering droplets of spit slipping from his puckered lips, “Need to pull out- need to, but…” And murked clouds of candied breath depart from his maw as soon as he readily opens, “-wan’ you t-to spit in my mouth, pretty.”

And you do - in a thick, viscid wad that glues mostly to the side of Ino’s mouth with the way he was fucking you so urgently. Hips drilling in a feral motion like he couldn’t bring himself to stop, to slow down.

You find your brows raising in intoxicated surprise as Ino startles out a shocked, drawling giggle– his husked tone veering octaves higher at times. “Y-you missed.”

“Hey- mmpf!”

A fat thumb comes to wipe off the driveling excess decorating the side of his face - before he’s stuffin’ it into your pouted maw before you can even think to complain about your target. 

With his rummaging digit hooked inside your mouth, Ino drag-drag-draaaags you closer to him, his next few uttered words tickling the curve of your ear. “S-since you missed, I get to haaaa- cum inside now, sweetness. M’kay?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “It’ll work.”

“N-no it won’t.”

“Yes it will.”

“No it- fuck!” And you can’t even get irritated with your overeager boyfriend’s cursed energy for crushing those flimsy condoms before he’s fucking you stupid with exactly that–

Raspy breaths labored, neat crescent nails clawing onto your hips - Gojo’s slamming his slenderly toned hips into yours so hard that sparking bolts of blue lightning flicker from his skin onto yours. 

“S-see–?” He’s cooing in a sultry smooth tone, one stray thumb catching on the saturated edges of your pussy and prying apart wiiiiide enough that he can glimpse the concentrated limitless wrapping ‘round his barrelling hard shaft. “S’working- h-heh, who needs fuckin’ condoms when you’ve got the ngh- strongest, sweetheart?”

“M’tell- telling you–” You’re struggling to puff out - to gasp. 

“Yeees?” 

“I-it’s not gonna- fuck–!” And Gojo - oh, he’s letting his hazed sapphire eyes circle with a ring of glowing power as his Six Eyes directs his spherical, sobbing tip precisely to your poor g-spot. Whack after sodden whack. 

Gojo was so fucking big that every one of even his tiniest grinds was bound to leave wet lil’ smooches on your cervix. Winding patterns of sappy pre that sploshes into every crevice and cranny he’s stuffing his scalding, limitless-decorated length inside of.

Cocky hums breezing against the tender lobe of your right ear, “What was thaaat?” You’re whimpering once a pair of his pale, lengthy fingertips creep down to your pursed pussylips and pinches. “C’mon squeeze ‘er t-tighter f’me, my girl-”

“Y-you’re sooo—” You’re sobbing out, heels flinching into the plush padding of his shoulder muscles as he’s rovering a targeted hit to your bulging g-spot. 

Until he’s sure you’ve memorized the exact rounded pinpoint of his divot, the exact shade of pretty pink nuzzling up to your delicate patch of nerves. 

“What was that? Huuuuh–?” Gojo’s perfectly pearly white smile twitches into something almost dangerous, “C’mon- you can hah! do it.” Smoky breaths hitching with every cute squeeeeze of your carnally heated innards, he’s clenching your oversaturated folds snugger. “Tighter. Tighter.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Just the noisiest, most lecherous hug of your silken soft walls all kissin’ all over his sheathed girth and Gojo finds himself flinching.

Long lashes flapping his watery eyes shut, handsome jaw ticking with a sudden tension, gasping- bucking. And you’re throwing your head back with a sob when the doughy fingerpads gripping onto your pussymound buzz with the power of leaking cursed energy. 

As if Gojo wasn’t even in control anymore.

“Raw-” He’s strangling out - hoarse. Parched. “I’m- raw…”

“T-Toru, are you o- fuck.”

Your heart almost stops when the strongest finally lurches his head up at your announcement of that little nickname as if on primal instinct. Flinching. Heavy lids pulling open just the tiniest bit– and the look in his dilated, near-black told you that something in him had snapped.

That something in him was just about on the verge of racking up a kill count higher than the population right now. 

Against the tiny inkling of rationality flashing red in your muddled mind, you’re breathing out, “Toru, are you alright?”

“Do I look alright, sweetheart?”

“D-did it work?”

Gojo’s movements are rapid, jerky as if he’s being strung along by some external force– and those glassy eyes fall upon where your sloppy hole was readily swallowing his every lollipop-red, raw inch. And then he startles out a shock of laughter– “Didn’t work.”

His limitless had faltered and now so was he.

Your skin goosebumps with concern at the air, lilting octaves in his voice. The way that he’s ramming a thoroughly rummaging strike to your gooey core that you seem to feel all the way in your lungs.

“D-didn’t work.” He’s giggling into your ear, the raw - raw - scrape of his orbed divot digging a translucent line of pre all the way down, down, down to your womb and leaving him hissing. “Didn’t work didn’t work didn’t work- didn’t work n’ I haaaah- don’t regret it one bit.”

“Y-you don’t?” You’re blubbering out, every sappy smudge of his veins across your g-spot was leaving you oh-so-stupid on his fat, veiny cock. 

“Not- one- bit-” Every single word, every single syllable was punctuated with a thick, solid pillage of your gummy walls. Because now that Gojo Satoru had finally felt all of you - he couldn’t get enough. “Y-you’ve been holding out.”

Before you can even think to wonder what he meant, he’s sinfully leveraging those supernatural reflexes to swat down a few more digits on top of your dribbling cunt and spreeeead. 

“Look at her- feel her. So soft, so wet-” Hiccuping, a tiny sob crackles at the clogged-up back of Gojo’s throat every time he’s running his rounded cockhead into you. Great glittering tears dangle from those snowy lashes of his, “S-so heavenly and- ohhhh you’ve been holding out my girl– look at you.”

You’re wrenching your dizzily circlin’ gaze open to watch as he’s splurging a few stringy wads of slick onto his fingers and letting it streeeetch slimily between them. “Y-you’re filthy-”

“O-oh right, no playing with food…”

Hah, as if.

Not even nanoseconds later you’re feeling the buzzing spank of those very same digits rolling over your needy clit simply throbbin’ away. You whimper once he’s twisting the delicate nub in his touch to write a pretty TORU~♡ right on top.

“Might just b-be my new hngh- obsession.” Gojo’s purring against your cheek as you writhe and whine underneath him so cutely, glittering eyes dead-set on you. Recording every detail. “Never gonna let you go now- ngh- gonna fuck you forever- gonna feel her- haaaah- you’re m-my girl, right?”

And you’re simply nodding and nodding and nodding as he’s cooing at you through every shuddering ram. 

Right where his sculptured pelvis was riding against yours was now starting to burn bright red, the stinging impact seeping out such powerful waves of reverse cursed energy zapping through your body so that Gojo wouldn’t break you when his tempo got harder and harder–

“You’re gonna c-cum soon, sweetheart-” He’s choking in-between a gnawing kiss down on your syrupy tongue, feeling the way your scalding tastebuds water once you realize his Six Eyes was accurate. 

Your cottony head throwing back uselessly into the decadent pillows with a wail, “Please- please, let me cum- Toru–”

“Gonna cum- gonna cum f’me.” He’s muttering underneath his breath, and through the teary cracks in your lids you can make out the way that Gojo was snarling. Eyes wide, dimples cratered, a sheer raw intensity to him that you’d only seen in battle before. 

One of his knobbly-tipped indexes draws an invisible line halfway across your stomach, skin tingling wherever he caresses. “There.” Gulping, mouth dry, he’s battering your sloppy cunt with one-two-three more resounding hammers. “There.”

The euphoria that crashes into you is so strong that he’s displaying you with his big, beefy forearm to sink your teeth into and bite - hard enough that you’re tasting metal. 

He’s shoveling quick, exact pounds that hit you right when your highs peak, multiple. 

And it wasn’t just you cumming - it was your beloved Gojo, too.

Skin electric, eyes scrunched, the romantic lighting in your bedroom shattering and shooting out pieces of glass that bounce off of the limitless he’d cast over the two of you.

Hours and hours later you’ll be wondering why the entirety of Tokyo doesn’t have power, but for now you’re too amazed by the fact that Gojo didn’t even seem to realize he was cumming, almost like he couldn’t even stop now that he’d started. 

Raw, he was finally filling you up just the way he’d been dreaming of for so long. 

He’s only cooing at your marking gnaw as if it was a cute nibble, “Yeah- yeah take it.” Husking voice cracks bleeding out of him with every streaming spurt of seed that floods out like a waterfall inside of you. “Take it take it take it–”

So much that it splashes out of you and formulates a syrupy puddle that Gojo dips a few fingertips into and sucks. So much that your numb legs are thrashing with the dilemma to either run away or milk him for more, more more–

“No running.” 

Gojo’s voice has dipped back into a stern bass as he’s announcing, curling his left- no, right? - your mind was so sweet n’ cotton-filled that you could barely even think anymore - palm ‘round your throat and draaaagging you back to scratch the tufted white curls at his base with your sprinkling pussy.

He’s craning down enough that his spit-stained lips tickle the shell of your right ear, “My S-Six Eyes says it didn’t take…” Another probin’ thrust, this time pumping his sickly honeyed web of cum right against the door to your womb, “-yet.”

A/N. Quick question- was my Gojo favoritism showing this time-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[luvcaleb]

YOU'RE MINE.

nsfw (18+). includes aphrodisiacs, dry humping, rubbing cock over panties, possessive!caleb, caleb is gentle at first until you piss him off, this is basically ‘testing caleb's patience: the fic’, unprotected sex, creampie, i have to mention that caleb is possessive twice because caleb says some freaky stuff, sappy confession during sex, happy (horny) ending <3 likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

Caleb doesn't accept love letters and chocolates whenever Valentine's Day comes along. However, girls directly stuff them into his bag without his knowledge sometimes, and you take it upon yourself to eat the sweets because Caleb would just throw it straight to the trash otherwise.

“It's a waste,” you'd always say. “You might not like them back, but they still made the effort to make chocolate for you.”

And then Caleb would shake his head, frowning, “Though most of them mean well, sometimes they put weird stuff in the food. So if I were you, I'd spit out that cupcake, pipsqueak.”

You usually don't heed his warnings—Caleb's always been kind of an overthinker. Now, though, you regret not listening to him as an unfamiliar heat spreads across your body, your core throbbing as you feel yourself dripping in your panties.

...The panties that's rubbing against Caleb's crotch right now, soaking the fabric of his pants while you grind down on him. Caleb's expression looks like a mix of confusion, worry, and arousal, his hands hovering above your waist as if unsure where to touch you. “Nn— hey, what's gotten into you? Do you even know what you're doing right now?”

You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he nervously swallows, and you start feeling something poking you at your clothed core. Caleb sits up on the sofa where you pushed him down a while ago, grabbing your hands on his shoulders. “C'mon, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.”

You whimper, your body collapsing on top of his. He quickly scoops you up, one hand holding the back of your head, the other resting on your lower back, ensuring you're properly seated on his thighs.

“I... I feel weird,” you pant, clutching the front of his shirt. “I'm dizzy, and my body is hot all over. My...” you swallow down your embarrassment, “my pussy feels empty... Caleb, can't you help me? Please?”

Almost imperceptibly, his grip on you tightens by a fraction. He sighs, angling your head to make you look at him in the eye. Perhaps it's the trick of the light, but Caleb's face is a flustered pink. “I can't do that. You're going to regret it when you turn back to normal and get all weird about it.” He glances at the chocolates you ate on the table, brows furrowed. “Aphrodisiac chocolate... I should've known. Then you wouldn't have become like this...”

Your mind is in a daze. Your body feels unusually heavy, but your head feels like it's floating. Most of what he said is lost on you, and at this moment, the only thing you can focus on is that Caleb is looking at something else. You grab both of his cheeks, forcibly turning his attention to you. “Please help me, Caleb...” Clumsily, you lift up your hips, pressing your cunt against the tent in his pants. It glistens with your wetness, and Caleb can't help but groan when you rub the tip with your thumb. “It hurts... I need this inside me...”

Caleb has always adhered to your whims, but even he has his limits. He pinches your cheek, “I can't put it inside, idiot, I don't have a condom. I just have to make you cum, right?” He gestures for you to pick up the hem of your skirt, sucking in a breath when he sees how soaked you are. “Fuck....”

The entire crotch area is damp, and if he looks carefully, he can even see the faint shape of your clit. Curiously, he draws circles on it, breathing heavily when a fresh glob of slick stains your underwear. “That's hot...”

He pulls down his zipper, releasing his cock from his boxers. You gasp softly at the sight. He's long and thick, arching to a beautiful curve, colored almost red from the strain of holding back. He gives himself a few experimental pumps, moans coming from his mouth as he masturbates at the sight of you, holding up your own skirt to give him a perfect view of your wet panties, an innocent, frilly pair he can't wait to ruin.

He positions his cock to your folds, aiming at the spot your hole should be if not covered by your underwear. You both groan at the first slide, his pre-cum further soaking the fabric of your ruined panties. He wraps himself in his fist, teasing your clit as he pumps into his hand. More pearls of white spurt out of his tip. “Ah, fuck, that's good... so good...”

“Ah, ah, Caleb!”

You move your hips, moaning while he rubs himself against your cunt. The warmth of his cock is driving you crazy, and the added friction of Caleb rubbing your nipple through your clothes makes you even wetter than you already are. He's biting his lip, dazed eyes staring at your body appreciatively. “I'm taking this off, baby.”

He impatiently runs his hand through the buttons of your clothes, some of them popping off to clatter on the floor. “H-hey, I liked this shirt— haa...!”

“I'll buy you a new one,” he grunts, mouthing at one of your tits, sucking as if anything would come out. He unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it over your shoulder. “These things are fucking annoying...”

Finally, he gets tired of rubbing you over your clothes. He lifts the side of your panties, sliding his cock inside to directly grind against your pussy. “Shit, that's more like it,” he moans loudly, your wetness gliding down his balls. “You feel so good.”

“Caleb, put it inside already,” you whine, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in your fists. “This isn't enough for you either, hnn, right...? Give me your cock, please...”

Caleb grits his teeth, holding your hips to stop you from dropping on his dick. “Didn't I tell you I don't have a condom?”

“I don't care!” you struggle in his hold. “Fuck me, c'mon... it hurts...! If you don't...”

You pant against his ear, knowing exactly what you're getting into, drugged or not, “...I'll ask Zayne to fuck me instead.”

The effect is instantaneous. He pulls out, replacing his cock with two fingers plunging inside you at once, hitting deep all the way inside. You choke, gasping out for breath as his hand doesn't stop, slick jetting out of your cunt with every push of his fingers. His clothes are getting soaked, but Caleb doesn't care about them at all, coldly glaring at your face twisted in pleasure.

“So you're telling me you'd be fine with just anyone?” He's chuckling, but he doesn't sound like he's happy. “Fuck. I should've just done this from the start, then.”

He grabs two of the chocolates, popping one in his mouth. When he finishes swallowing, he places the other one in his mouth again, but then he suddenly grabs your jaw. “Open your mouth, slut.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, mouths locking together. The chocolate melts from the heat, his tongue licking at yours as he's forcing you to swallow. He doesn't let you go until he's sure you've eaten all of it, drool dripping from the corner of your lips.

“We're not stopping until you learn I'm the only one who gets to see you like this,” he grunts, taking out his fingers and slathering your slick on his cock to make it wet. “I'm the only one who gets to call you mine.”

“Haa... haa...”

Clothes are strewn messily on Caleb's bedroom floor, the mattress squeaking with each thrust of his hips. You're on your back, one leg hooked over Caleb's shoulder, staring into space as you're fucked absolutely stupid.

“Fuck, I can't stop my hips....” Caleb's still fucking into you, hasn't stopped for the past hour. The effects of the aphrodisiac have probably passed after the first two rounds, but his cock shows no signs of softening after release. He cums another load into you, overflowing from your pussy to spread into his sheets. “Ah, hng, shit... Hey, I told you not to waste it.”

He pulls out, pressing his fingers inside your loose hole to fuck his cum back in. You make a sound of protest, already feeling full.

“Are you starting to regret what you said now?” He grabs the back of your thighs, pressing your legs next to your ears. “Too late for that, though.”

Caleb groans, sloshing his cum inside your cunt with his dick. You helplessly grab at the sheets, moaning brokenly. His pelvis rubs against your engorged clit on every snap of his hips, driving you to squirt on his abs again, his torso glistening with your mess.

“You're squirting again? How many times have you cum?” Caleb laughs meanly, sucking another possessive mark among the smattering of hickeys he's already left along your collarbones. “Nasty girl...”

He leans back, getting a better view of your body. There are traces of him everywhere, from the hickeys on your neck, his cum on your chest because you couldn't swallow everything he poured in your mouth, and the faint bite marks on your inner thighs when he paid the favor and ate you out.

He presses a kiss on your chest, staring at you with dark eyes. “If you didn't say that, I would've been patient with you. Fingered you loose before putting my cock inside, making sure you're comfortable... I would've helped you ride out the effects of the aphrodisiac and never speak of it again. After all, to you, I'm just family.” He nuzzles against your cheek, his voice taking on a darker tone. “But you just had to call out another guy's name, didn't you... Would've fucked him if it was him here, not me...”

Caleb thrusts back inside you roughly, fucking your cervix. “You can't do that, you know? You've always belonged to me. Every part of you is mine, so no one else can touch you.” He cups your cheek, devouring your cries of pleasure with his mouth. “Just me... it's only me, right? I'm the person most important to you, right? You said so... So why are you bringing up another guy?”

He's asking questions, but he doesn't let you answer any of them, kissing you so much you almost can't breathe.

“Even though I'm in front of you...” Kiss. “Even when I'm the only one who loves you this much...” Kiss, kiss. “You're still thinking of another person...” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “That's hardly fair when you're all I think about everyday.” Another sloppy kiss.

You weakly push his chest, breaking away from the kiss. “Wait, Caleb—”

He pins your wrist to the bed. “I'm not stopping.”

“I'm not telling you to stop, I'm telling you to liste— ahh, haa, hnn!” The cock still ramming up your walls makes it much more difficult to speak, hammering against the sweet spot that makes your toes curl. “Fuck, ah— Caleb, listen to me!”

He hums as he sucks another hickey on your skin. “I am.”

You don't have it in you to argue even when he clearly isn't, trembling at the pleasure. The hand holding your wrist travels upwards to intertwine your fingers together, grounding you back to reality.

“Caleb, I was just— I didn't mean what I said...” you stammer, trying your best to speak without getting distracted. “I, mmh....! W-wouldn't do this with anyone else... haa... I just said that so you'd fuck me— ah, ah!”

He scoffs, slowing his pace when he sees you being overwhelmed. “You're just making excuses to get me to stop.”

“I'm not, you dummy! I...” your brows pinch together, embarrassed to say it but you continue anyway, “Caleb, you're the one I think of when I touch myself... nn... And I know it's wrong, and you only think of me as someone you should take care of, but, I, haah, I like it when you kiss me, or when you hug me, and I— gh! I like it when you fuck me hard, too, just like this...”

You move your hand to cup Caleb's jaw, admiring his awestruck expression. He looks at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

“I'm not telling you to stop,” you repeat yourself firmly. “I just wanted to say I didn't mean that thing I said earlier, and if it's you, you can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you just like how you love me, Caleb.”

His hips come to a complete stop. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Caleb.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“Okay, you're really pushing it, it's embarrassing to sa— aah!”

He grabs your hip, pulling you back to his cock. He fucks you frantically, harsh groans leaving his lips, your name like a prayer. “Fuck... you love me? You love... me?” The words seem unfamiliar on his tongue, heartbreakingly quiet. You squeeze your connected hands.

“I love you, Caleb. I really, really love you, I've loved you a long time ago...” you tilt his chin, making him meet your gaze. “Now say it back.”

“I love you,” he says with certainty, as if it's a fact of the universe. “I love you so much.” He buries his head into your neck, sucking new marks. “I love you... fuck... I love you so badly, it hurts...”

His cock drives deeper, the wet slaps of skin deafening in the room. Cum dribbles out of your hole with his thrusts, and he swipes it up to smear it on your engorged clit. Rub, rub. Rub, rub.

“Shit, Caleb!” You wail, rutting to his finger. “Everything feels so good, ah, ah!”

“You feel so good, too, aw, fuuuck...” he's melting inside you, your warm walls clenching around him so tight, sucking him back in every time he pulls out. “Your pussy keeps sucking me back in...!” 

“Ah, hnahh, ngh, yes, like that, ah! I'm cumming, cumming!”

His balls draw tight, his cock about to burst. “Fuck, shit!” he fucks in, in, in, until he's filled every space in your cunt, thumb frantically rubbing at your clit. Clear liquid soaks his cock, wetting his pelvis, and he follows you in your release, shooting ropes of milky cum deep inside your pussy. “Fuck, ah, take my cock, take my fucking cum all the way in, ohh— take it deep in your womb—”

He keeps cumming, and cumming, and cumming. “It won't stop,” he moans against your ear, watching your hole overflowing with his semen. “Your pussy feels too good, it's sucking me dry...”

“Caleb, shit, how are you still— ohh, fuuck...” you whine as the last spurts of semen hit your torso, Caleb having pulled out and pumping his dick to cover you in his cum.

Finally emptied, Caleb collapses on the spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I need a shower,” he mutters, feeling the stickiness on his body.

“We need a shower,” you correct him. “I probably won't be able to walk for the next few days, all thanks to you, so you better take responsibility and carry me everywhere.”

Caleb laughs, light and airy, nothing like the dark tone he's been speaking in earlier. He pulls you to his chest, pressing chaste kisses all over your face. “Anything for the girl I love.”

[screampied]

ANACONDA! 𝜗𝜚

❤︎ sum. pov: when his dick’s bigger than a tower and you’re definitely not talking about eiffels. nanami, choso, ijicihi, sukuna, gojo, toji, geto.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, condom breaks, unrealistic dick analysis, manhandling, size differences, happy trailsss, stretching reader silly, gaping, overstim, tummy bulges, true form! sukuna, finishing early, sukuna uses an extra mouth, breedıng, cęrvix kissing, spanks, usage of "mommy", degradation, squırting, mild daddy kink, multiple rounds, praise, petnames.

an. MY ANACONDA DONT-

✩ ˛˚ . IJICHI KIYOTAKA.

ijichi’s the type of guy who’s not actually aware of how big he really is - especially whenever he’s inside you.

he swears every time feels like the first time, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets once you ask him in that sweet, airy voice to ‘try a new position.’

“o- oh..” he loudly gulps, nearly choking on the round adam’s apple that bobs at the back of his dry throat. you’re sat on his lap with your back facing the other way. puffy, cloudy breaths that spilled from his lips brush against your shoulder as he feels the lush slickness of your cunt aligning against his cherry-red tip. “hngh-” ijicihi grunts, feeling the mattress beneath you both dip from the overwhelming pounds of rickety, recoiling weight. “when you said you wanted to stretch your legs,” he continues, hearing that breathy ‘lil gasp glide from your glossed lips once he hooks his bare arms underneath your raised legs.

“didn’t- didn’t think this is what you meant, m’love, heh-”

he’s very thick, and you whimpered as the weight of your sticky near-shut thighs sharply slaps! back down onto his legs after each bounce.

“s- so perfect, ride it like it’s yours, pleaseplease, fuck-” ijichi hisses, bringing an arm to wrap around your twisting torso. ijichi’s other hand was glued to your waist as your cunt was just brutally torturing him with its dewy wetness.

“mhm-” you whined, hearing his huffing breaths pick up from behind you. one of ijichi’s weaknesses was you riding him - riding him in reverse.

and, fuck- it was just the way your ass prettily twirled itself ‘round in such hypnotic, slow-motion circles. you’re riding him oh-so good that the black bridge of his glasses becomes crooked on his face. it’s a simple, small detail but it’s also cute — and he grumbles, struggling to reposition them back on your face as your ass continued to ruthlessly slam back onto his throbbing cock.

“ijichiii- right there, baby. that s- spot, mhm, riiiight there ngh-”

“pussy’s just- hah, swallowing me,” he groans, gluing both palms to your rocking waist. his tip that’s a bruised, ruddy shade of red massages its way thoroughly against your g-spot again, and again, and again.

as you’re making sure to relax your shuddering knees against his thighs, you continued to move—rocking back ‘n forth against his lap. “so…. so hot when you grind against me like… th- oh, fuck-”

ijichi’s curtly cut off by one by a familiar feeling he knew all too well. there’s a tangled, knotting core that’s burning in the lower pit of his stomach, and the pads of his damp thumbs were practically melting into your glossy, sweaty skin. “ ‘jichi, spank me.”

“spank you?” he repeats sheepishly, averting his hooded eyes down toward your cunt that’s just leaking.

your mess started to coat against your thighs, streaming from between the cracked crevices of your legs as you kept up your unsteady rhythm. it’s a big, nice stretch that left you humming in contempt after each inch, causing your back to arch even further.

you gave him a nod, and you purposely slowed yourself against his cock as your back leaned forward in such a lewd, filthy manner. with a cute, teasing wriggle of your ass, you heard ijichi smokily groan out a timid, ‘oh my’ once he pauses his thrusts for a moment just to see how full he was stuffing you.

“ ‘kay,” he swallows, feeling his pulsating tip twitch at the sudsy sight of a glittery white ring starting to form around his base.

he’s close - he’s so so close, and ijichi wasn’t sure of how much more he could take. with a single, echoing slap! his hand swats against your right ass cheek and you moaned, craning your head moderately to look at him from behind.

ijichi’s so flustered, and the second his palm made direct contact with your stinging ass, he gulps. “are you- was that okay? ‘m sorry, m’ love.”

“ ‘s fine, baby,” you reassured him, taking a wheezing breath once you continued to feel your insides squeezing around his overwhelming size. ijichi wasn’t even moving anymore—he was just lying back as you were still arched over, facing the opposite direction. his tip’s more flushed than ever, and you let off a soft gasp once you felt his weighty cock leaaaan further inside of your sloppy cunt. “here- let me get on top.”

“okay-” he thickly swallows, groaning once he hears the wet sound of his dick temporarily pulling out of you. ijichi’s entire body was just glistening with sweat, and you could almost see his hazed, half-open irises form into hearts. he was downright pussydrunk, and as you softly laid him back once more, this time - you were straddling him while facing him directly.

a hitched breath held itself in his throat as he stole another greedy glimpse of you — your natural, radiant glow that complimented your skin from the cracked open window as you started to re-align yourself. “hold my hips, ijichi,” you cooed, leaning up close to his face.

his usually neatly slick-parted hair’s a mess. it’s all ruffled and unkempt with a few onyx strands wetly sticking to his perspiring forehead. ijichi moans, hearing the slick plap of your pretty pussy falling back down on his lengthy cock, and the knee-buckling stretch makes itself known yet again.

ijichi brings shaky, callused hands toward your waist at your cooing command, trying to steady your movements as you did a seductive figure eight with your rocky hips. “fuck, baby, thankyouthankyou,” he starts to babble, and you whimpered, feeling the many prominent veins that resided on and around his shaft. his head briefly tilts back as his pink, glossed lips pry open. “s- soooo good, so fuckin’ good-” and as he’s rambling, ijichi lets off a faint, husky whine.

within seconds, he ends up spurting right into you, erupting finally as his legs gave out beneath you. ijichi trembled underneath you as he gripped your hips tighter, his bottom lip cutely quivered. his knitted, black brows furrowed at his current state as he cums.

it’s thin, stringy ropes that even make ijichi gasps as he stuffs you to the brim, and he whispers out an embarrassed ‘shit.’

“hah- baby, did you jus’ cum?” you breathed with a sleazy smile, surprising his quavering rosy lips with a single wet kiss. he whines against your lips in response, nodding weakly as he’s still spasming. it’s so hot, and as he’s still filling you up, you playfully remove his crooked glasses that sat on the bridge of his pointy nose. “good boy.”

“all . . yours,” he replied with a shy half-grin, watching as you put his glasses on your face. even now with blurred, misty vision, you could still see the slightly distorted facial expression that was painted against ijichi’s abased face. as the sloshing, wet squelches from below continued, ijichi brings yet another spank toward your ass.

unlike last time—it’s much harder than before, and you quietly yelped at the rude slap! before meeting his hungry, cunt-drunk gaze.

“babyy-” he grumbled, guiding both rough palms to squeeze each globe of your ass. his cum’s nearly finished filling you, and ijichi starts to sloppily roll your waist against his cock again with both hands. immediately, you’re moving once more and you’re moaning whilst his creamy tip’s starting to sink its way inside of your dripping pussy for its nth time.

“don’t- don’t stop,” ijichi groans, and his husky tone sounds almost needy. the outdated boxspring starts to creak again, and he’s just empty-brained. you made him cum so easily and yet - he only wanted more.

“keep hah- moving this pretty ass, m’love,” ijichi pants, pushing the bridge of his glasses back against your nose. he always thought seeing you wear his glasses were cute, and sometimes it even turned him on . . like now.

“ride it- ride me like i’m yours, f- fuck me, please mommy-” he begged, burying his face into your neck. “hah- ride me good ‘till i make another m.. mess mhm-”

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU.

satoru’s not thick - he’s long, very and he knows it.

“one,” satoru whispers, watching with bleary-cerulean eyes as your cunt tries to bare around his middle finger. it’s a nice and wide stretch, and your jaw drops once he’s starting to insert another. it’s so lengthy, and your chest cutely deflates once you hear his low, cheeky giggle from behind you.

bastard.

“twooo,” and you’re whimpering, feeling both digits scissor inside of your wet pussy. “aw, c’mon, wifey. if you can’t take my fingers what makes you think you can handle me, hm?”

“satoruuu-” the pretty, repetitive cries of his name that fell from your lips were a tune he’d always grown to love.

between the sprawled arc of your thighs, you were just soaked - dripping, putting actual faucets to shame as you covered the entirety of his lanky fingers with your glossy essence.

in the very lower depths of your fluttering stomach, you’re feeling that known brewing pool of heat stir stir stir - tickling all through your insides before he sloppily pulls his sticky fingers out. “oh, i know, wet girl. iiiii know,” satoru gruff whispers, slightly raising his voice to purposely talk over your moans.

right as his pointed fingers slide their way from between your folds, your cunt spits out a cacophony of wet sloshes that makes him snicker. “she’s so talkative today. cute.”

“ngh- just f- fuck me already,” you’d whine, lying flat on your stomach. you’re gnawing on your bottom lip like it’s some saccharine piece of candy - its flavor being unfortunately tasteless except for the occasional presence of your sugary-sweet saliva. “pleaseplease, don’t tease me, ‘toru-”

“better be a good girl and sit up for me then,” satoru rasps, bringing his leaky shaft towards your slick-glossed slit. even with his long, slender fingers now out of your cunt, you could almost still feel his digits pump inside of you.

how his fingers would just stretch, stretch stretch. with the way satoru would easily explore your pussy with just a few fingers and reached each and every sensitive spot, you were starting to really think if his long fingers were actually six inches.

one hard slap against your cunt with satoru’s blushing tip brings you right back to brutal reality. “mhm, are you gonna be a pretty wet wife for me ‘n open?”

god - even the head of his cock was big, and your wet, lips were already forming into a surprised ‘o’ shape once he’s starting to ease himself in. satoru’s heavy base was so wide, and you were sure you’d feel every barreling inch trying to pummel into your slick core.

he’s got a vastly broad shape with his tip too, and he never failed to make you feel those deliciously, coarse ridges.

your head’s practically smushed into your fluffed pillow as your teeth softly snag against the frilly beige edges. “mmngh-”

“let’s see how many inches ‘till ya pop,” satoru hums, lining up his pearly crowned tip against your drooling entrance. your breath started to quicken at a rapid speed once you felt his slender fingers trace a path down your waist. “arch for me, girl- yeaaah,” satoru lowly encouraged, and you whimpered once he’s aligning his rounded tip against your weeping cunt.

with such quick ease, he slides his way inside right as you arch your back over the extra pillow that sits beneath your tummy. satoru’s dick always knew every spot to hit. he loved more than anything to treat your cute ‘lil g-spot as a target, whacking into it every time with perfect, sloppy accuracy. massaging your gripping walls with each rigid thrust was his favorite too, and he adored hearing your raw, whiny voice scream for more.

“ugh-” you’d whine, piercing the top row of your teeth into the fluffed pillow in front of you. satoru felt you spasming and clenching around his length. you could feel each twitch of his cock inside of you once he started to bestially pound into your core. “ ‘toru, you’re- hah- stretchin’ me so good, think ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

sharp, harsh slaps of skin filled the room as satoru continued to drill into your sweet cunt. he leans way into your ass, bringing a hand toward your hips. “bet you are, angel,” satoru groans, feeling that familiar heat stir its way ‘round the lower depths of his stomach. it’s steadily arising, and his skin that grinds above yours felt like it was melting. “fuck, might just cum too. oh fuck-”

satoru’s buried to the hilt and he groans once his hips rattled against you. each papping slap against the skin makes you both dizzy, and you whimper once his tip gently bruises its way deep into your cervix with sticky, tender kisses.

it’s only three pounding hits and you’re gasping, while satoru’s hands firmly grip your waist. “s- satoruuu-” you’d whine, and you’re gushing all over his cock.

as you’re succumbing into sweet reverie, your legs violently twitch and he’s groaning. the coil residing inside of his stomach finally snaps - and he’s cumming with you, dumping a filthy thick ‘n creamy load far deep into your womb. it’s hot and sloppily pours inside of you like spilling molasses.

“ugh- didn’t know my girl was a bit of bit of a soaker,” satoru pants with a sly smile, wiping the sheet of sweat that covered a good portion of his pale forehead. his fingers rub against the blindfold that’s halfway hanging on his head — barely just above his eyes so that he can see. darting his navy, blue eyes down towards your sobbing clit, satoru smears his thumb against your wet entrance.

“well, how ‘bout that,” satoru throatily groans, diagonally swirling his thumb around your flooded pussy. gradually, he pulls out, and sticky, white ropes of cum start to pour from your slippery folds. the narrow head of his dick twitches at the sight, and satoru leans down to lap his reddened, pink tongue against your viscous folds. “hngh- hold still, angel.”

“satoru-” you’d moaned, feeling one of his hands lift your leg as his tongue fully rolled itself out of the cave of his mouth, slurping you clean. “what are you-”

he cups his plump lips ‘round your pussy, batting his white lashes shut before giving your dripping pussy a soft spank.

“shhh, baby. ‘m trying… to eat, have some class,” and satoru snatched his blindfold from behind his head, wiping his mouth with it like a handkerchief.

“now, spread those pretty legs ‘n let me finish my meal, heh. pretty please?”

✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

two words: monster cock.

without a doubt, sukuna’s most likely gonna split you open. especially whenever he’s in his true form because, at that point, your cunt’s just asking to be obliterated.

thick and long with veins galore.

sukuna was more of a shower and rarely ever trimmed. his happy trail’s nothing but pink, and starting down his navel — the pink, curly hair began.

sukuna always had a slight bend with a crimsoned, narrow head. the base of his cock was gruesomely large, and would always curve upwards inside of you after each pivotal thrust. he even had a bit of foreskin shielding the head of his strawberry-colored tip.

“fuck-” sukuna grumbles, wrapping all four arms around your waist, holding you in a securely tight grasp.

seven seconds - it’s only been seven literal seconds since his dick’s slipped out of you and he’s already feral.

to say you’ve milked sukuna dry round after round was the understatement of the century. you’re whimpering as your nose buried into the crook of his neck, getting a nice waft of his strong, peppery scent.

seven seconds and he’s already missing the way your pussy cutely opened and closed around him, clamping down on him tight while holding his cock hostage.

“ ‘m gonna cum again,” he groans, sloppily tossing his hips quicker against your slick core.

“hngh- ‘kuna, don’t stop,” you’d whine, bucking your hips forward. as your slick body grinds against his, you could feel his chiseled ripped abdomen rub against your skin. “mmh,” you’d gasp, feeling two of his lower arms grab at the fleshy globes of your perk ass. “so big, s- sooo fuckin’ big, ‘m not gonna-”

you moaned once he suddenly pulled out, swiftly making you get on all fours.

“wha-” slap!

you’re biting back another incoming moan once sukuna’s swollen tip barbarically mashes itself against your dripping pussy.

your trembling legs shook and your drooling lips parted, shaping into a dramatic ‘o’ once heard the wet sloshes of your folds again. as sukuna watches the narrow tip of his dick disappear in between your folds before you then started to feel something else.

a slippery, wet tongue licks against your puckering hole and your eyes widen. “is- is that-”

“my hand, girl,” sukuna gruffs, softly pushing your head into the plushy pillow. it only takes a few seconds before he starts up his cruel, demonic pace again. “this way i can taste you while splittin’ this ruinin’ ngh- pussy,” and a sweet sob rips out of your throat the moment he slams his hips into you.

the length of sukuna’s cock always scratched such a carnal itch in your brain. you’re humming, clinging onto the pillow in front of you while hearing his crisp, low growls from behind you. “ass fuckin’ up, don’t get lazy.”

sukuna’s hips dip inward and your eyes bulged.

the thickness of his cock plugged you in so full, and you’re babbling the same whiny cacophonies of his name. “uuugh- ‘kuna,” and he’s still holding up his right palm against your ass. when he told you he could form extra mouths on any part of his body, you thought he was joking.

slurp after slurp and the dripping tongue attached to his palm licked ‘round your hole again, greedily lapping up the lustrous strings of slick that poured between your folds. “hngh- you’re so nasty-”

“what’s nasty is this sloppy cunt,” he snarls, loudly talking over the loud, clashing sounds of both sync hips. even the bed beneath you both sounded like it was clinging onto its final hinges. after each bucking thrust, sukuna’s fat tip reaches deeper and deeper ‘till it surprises your g-spot.

you squealed, digging your teeth into the edge of your pillow. sukuna angles his hips, still allowing his hand to swirl its hot pink tongue around your hole before getting a few nips at your teary pussy.

“mngh- she’s always got something to say, just like her sloppy owner- fuck-”

as you’re bouncing up and down on his length, your eyes widened once you felt the ridged curve of his sukuna’s cock attempt to rummage toward your fluttering cervix. once he slaps a single thrust into that particular spot, your thighs immediately collapse and you’re left mewling against his ear.

“ ‘m cumming-” you gasped, swinging your hips against his lap at a much quicker speed. all four of sukuna’s bulky arms caged you in, and each drilling pump of his cock had you stammering on your words. “fuck, fuckfuck-” you’d repeat, and once you finally let go, you softly dug your teeth into his neck.

“easy, little one, ride it out,” sukuna snickers, grabbing ahold of your unsteady hips. his size was just so big - so overwhelming.

every thick inch of him was just buried inside of your slippery cunt, and you’re just shaking on top of him. colorless, sheeny slick trickled down both of your pried open thighs as your airy aerates against his neck. “good girl, wet girl - but good i suppose,” he groans, feeling his cock tighten inside of you.

your muscles were contracting as you started to slow down, and judging by sukuna’s flushed face, you knew he was getting close too. the demon growls out an off-guard groan, squeezing a hand against your ass before wearily slouching back against the bed.

“hey-” he grumbles, spotting the sudden playful glint in your eye. your palms land on his bare, sweaty chest and you’re now straddling him.

“lie- lie back, ‘kuna,” you huffed, still struggling to catch your breath. your dripping cunt was still throbbing and you felt a bit of pudge near the lower pit of your tummy. he really was that big.

teasingly, you rocked your hips a bit forward and watched as sukuna actually whined this time for you instead of groaning. “can you do that?”

sukuna didn’t last long though, because despite just how big he was - he was a bit weak.

as you pressed a wet kiss against his lips while your fingers brushed past his neglected nipples, right at that exact moment, sukuna cums.

“make it qui- f- fuck-”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO.

nanami’s always been big and he’s always been a bit shy about it.

he’s real big and thick with the sun-kissed tip of his cock a bright reddish-pink. tall, girthy even longer stretch and you’d be feeling him everywhere without question.

with how shiny and pearly the head of his tip is, it practically glimmers with the help of the glossy tears of pre-cum spewing down the veiny sides. nanami’s so big that he’d leave you walking side to side after a few rounds—poor wobbly legs trying to support themselves the best they could.

“ ‘m gonna… hah- need you to hold your legs up for me,” he’d groan, sucking in a faint sharp breath once his rouged, creamy tip slaps back against his stomach. “put ‘em up and over like that - atta girl, gooood,” and his voice lowers, gruffly pitching deeper at each ringing slap of tender flesh.

“oh, sweetheart, where do you think you’re going?” nanami lowly hums, reeling your hips back into place. you’re in such a position—gasping whilst his cock’s easing its way into you. “mhm- bare ‘round me just like that, sweet girl- fuck,” he swallows, feeling his rip abs tighten at your warmth. as he’s slowly rocking you back into him, you slam straight down against his lap.

a wet, sloshing squelch sounds from between your legs and you yelped out a sweetened, “s- shit,” once his tip kisses its way near your convulsing g-spot. within a single thrusting thrust, he’s reached that spot that had you seeing nothing but a galaxy of stars. “ken- kento, so f- fuckin’ big, ugh-” you babbled, turning cross-eyed in just seconds.

“c’mon, let me my sweet girl from here,” he quietly rasps, linking his arms underneath your thighs.

you’re whining loudly, biting down fiercely on your slackened jaw as he’s now just basically helping you bounce up and down on his dick.

with the way you moved, lazily rotating your hips, you imitated a seesaw. he’s just huge, figuratively and literally, and nanami gently brings a big hand toward your waist.

“that’s it, pretty girl. show me those gorgeous . . hah- fuckin’ hips. move for me, all for me, honey- yeah,” he groans, tilting his head back at the sloppy slaps of skin clouding his judgment.

nanami had you bouncing on his cock while both of your knees were bent. it’s the perfect position to just feel his long, lengthy cock stretch its way in and out of you. clammy, grabby hands of yours tried to hold onto him so you don’t fall, and he finds the entire scene cute.

nanami was a hardworking man - a very hardworking man. one of his favorite things was to of course, return home to you, his sweet ‘n doting wife but another one of his favorite things was to fuck you after a long day.

he had immense amounts of stamina, and he always said that this was a good “recharge.”

“mngh- look at how good i stretch you out, sweetheart,” nanami breathes, changing positions to where your back’s turned the other way. a mirror was in front of the both of you near the wall, and nanami cupped a hand beneath your chin that was just covered with your dripping drool.

“my wife always knows how to… hah- take me.” and you moaned, darting your eyes down to see your dripping cunt hovering over his scarlet-red tip.

from each lengthy side, it’s painted with a plethora of blue-tinted veins. it’s almost pretty, and you spotted a few blond hairs garnish around his full base.

a miry, clear string of your slick spats out of your pussy while nanami starts to rub circles ‘round your teary folds. you whimpered inaudible wails of the two syllables of his name, rolling your eyes back in erotic pleasure once his fat thumb slides a direct path down toward your palpitating clit.

“ ‘ken, please- don’t tease me,” and your words were so whiny. while he’s playing with you, you’re still just barely hovering above his flushed tip. you’re staring at the lewd reflection of yourself in the mirror, shamefully throbbing at the sight of your legs widely spread for nanami.

with a soft slap, his hand gently whacks against your cunt and you mewled, flopping back against his blond, hairy chest. “please-”

“can never say no to my wet girl,” nanami gruffly whispers against your neck, bringing a torrid, sticky kiss near your exposed collarbone.

the king-sized bed underneath the two of you constantly sunk inward from both pounds of weight before you squealed. nanami aligns his fat tip against your dribbling slit before grabbing the back of your hand, and kissing it.

“ah- watch,” he softly cranes your chin back to face yourself in the mirror, tilting your head down to look straight at your hungry cunt that’s already swallowing his girthy inches.

“that’s it, f- fuck, looks like she’s so good for me too. good and… hah- sooo wet.”

✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO.

choso’s always been quite the packer and he’s sometimes the type to get a bit timid of his size. condoms always hated to see him coming, because they never lasted a chance, and in some cases, neither did you.

undoubtedly, choso’s thick and long with a slightly untrimmed build. it’s got a cute, flushed shade of vermillion that darkens a few hues every moment it spends inside of your slobbering pussy.

“ ‘m sorry, ‘m . . sorry, baby,” choso whines against your neck, swallowing each tasteless gulp that travels toward the back of his tongue as he frantically pistons his bucking hips inside of you.

he can’t help but click his tongue in sheer annoyance - feeling the constant rubbery material of his condom stretching in and out of you.

after each deep stroke, each slapping thrust, choso’s heart starts to pick up.

it’s going a mile a minute as he’s now just straight-up jackhammering his fat cock into you. his crowned tip explores all erogenous zones of your sensitive clit, kissing against each spot ‘till you sobbed in harmonic pleasure. “ ‘s okay, don’t stop- fuck, keep goin’ choso, yeahyeah, hngh-” you whimpered, holding onto him tight.

but one particular thrust wasn’t like any other.

it’s a loud, stretchy pop sound that sounds from between your legs, and choso freezes.

he lets off a small whine, feeling himself leak in the condom that’s now broken. it snapped, and the material could barely hold itself together anymore. “oops,” he lets out a shaky sigh, pressing his sweat-polished forehead against yours. “sor-”

“stop saying sorry, baby,” you tenderly reassured him, cupping his face. choso’s sweating from all angles and his lips form into a pout before you sneak a kiss against his lips. “hah- you can try raw this time if you-”

“r… raw-” choso’s breathily repeats under his breath. his aching hips remained snugly fit inside of you as he was buried inside with the snapped rubber. choso couldn’t even think straight - the only thing he was doing was nearly salivating at the mental image of being inside you raw.

once he took it off, there’d be nothing between the two of you — just raw skin against skin, nude balmy flesh slapping against flesh. choso groaned, feeling a sudden fullness in his balls before he nipped near your neck. “okay..”

after a few exhilarating rounds with the condom still on, you introduced the ‘mating press’ to choso once - just once, and he’s become nothing more than a fiend for your pussy.

he’s addicted, and he’s groaning as he’s pushing both of your knees toward the center of your chest, quickly getting a grasp of the position you rambled about.

“i need- i need ‘ta feel you again,” he whines gruffly, sliding his lengthy cock out between your folds. it’s a popping, sloshing splat sound that rings from between your legs and he could feel your body beneath him already aching for more. “hah- without this fuckin’ rubber,” and choso pauses, widening his dark baggy eyes before softly laying his dick against your tummy. “pleaseee…”

“g- go ‘head,” you moaned, giving him a firm head nod once you know the exact question he was asking. choso wanted to take off the condom - but, he always knew to ask you first. you could’ve sworn as soon as you complied, you saw his mahogany irises form into cute ‘lil hearts. “take it off, baby.”

right away, choso snatches the rubber off of his length, groaning once the breeze of cool air wafts against his reddened tip. after he tosses it in the garbage bin, he sighs yet again. “mngh-” he grunts, catching you staring at his cock’s head that’s a deep, ruddy shade of red.

his stubby tip’s so fat and round, perfectly plump with the right amount of ridges to make your legs nearly collapse. your poor thighs trembled, and he’s then starting to gingerly whack whack whack the creamy, glowy tip of his cock against your puffy slit.

“hah- keep these knees up, baby,” he murmurs, bringing a thumb to swipe across your tender nipples. hic- can you do that for me? hold ‘em up nice and high?”

“mhm,” you gave him a nod, pulling his buried head up from the crook of your neck. cupping both of his rosy-tinted cheeks, you pressed a sweet, soft kiss against his lips. choso whimpers against your lips, sloppily jerking his hips into yours before you feel himself starting to re-align himself. “choso- fill me up again, don’t stop.”

“ ‘m gonna make this tummy all nice and round again, promise,” choso grunts, sneaking a palm before circling it around the center of your stomach. “hngh- open up for me, baby. open up-”

he bites his bottom lip, feeling how your sloppy cunt immediately squeezed around his cock. with your knees pressed high up against your chest, you nearly felt like choso’s body weight alone was squishing you.

you whimpered at each gaping stretch, tossing your weak arms over his sweat-glossed shoulders. “f..fuck,” you’d whine, feeling choso’s burly body shudder from your misty breath that ghosts against his earlobe. “choso, c- chosoooo-” and more and more inches disappear inside of your cunt.

like always - your convulsing walls couldn’t help but hug ‘round him tight as he continued to vigorously bully his way inside. choso’s weight lays on top of you and you watch as his face cutely contorted.

he’s literally melting inside you, biting his lip while feeling the slick rawness of your pussy gripping tightly against him. “i love you, love you so mu- fuck-” he hiccups, continuing to hold on tight to your pushed knees that’s cutely shoved to your chest.

his tip stretched fully inside you, and you’re whimpering once you felt choso’s hips rattle against yours. “ugh- baby, can’t… can’t hold it,” he groaned, and choso barely lasts a few more sloppy, hard pumps before he’s cumming. his chin falls into your chest as he groans, squeezing his dark lashes shut.

“fuck-” he quietly mewled, shivering at the sudden feeling of your hands grabbing onto his slim waist. a parched, hot load spills inside of you and you feel his hips rattle against your core again.

choso’s face retreated inside the warmth of your shoulder before he murmurs out an embarrassed ‘ah fuck’.

your limp body writhes underneath him and you’re letting off languid gasps once you could still feel the faint stretches of his lengthy cock piercing inside of you. dewy, sticky tears stuck to choso’s lashes before he sat up to look at you, and you moaned once he brought a chaste kiss to your lips.

“raw, one more… pleaseplease,” and as he’s still dumping a hot load into you, you felt him trying to pin your legs over your head. “i- i wanna go raw again, baby,” and you knew you were screwed the second you saw that sly, cunt-drunk grin plastering on his lips.

“heh, pretty please-”

✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO.

toji’s huge - he’s huge and he fuckin’ knows it too.

he’d be a good estimate of a staggering seven or eight inches and oh, did he know how to rearrange your guts. his dick’s just heavy, abnormally thick with a slouching curve that makes his hips lazily bend forward whenever he pounds into you. he’s so girthy too, and the appetizing bulk you always feel inside of you makes you drool even more the moment he’s pumping in fat inch after inch into you.

“ ‘s not… gonna fit-”

“trust me, baby, it’ll fit,” toji murmurs, placing a rugged palm on the center of your tummy. a thumb of his drags down your navel, and you’re whimpering once you realize he’s only halfway in. toji fushiguro being halfway in was usually equivalent to being fully in. “ ‘sides, trained her well… heh. now gimme that arch, girl. yeah, you got it.”

oh, fuck.

that stretch was always the best part too.

your tongue had a pool of treacly saliva keeping the inside of your mouth company as he was practically splitting your cunt open. ‘mmmpf’ after ‘mmmpf’ and your muffled moans almost sounded like hums. there’s a few prominent veins wrapped around toji’s dick as he’s leisurely ramming himself inside of you. “gimme that pretty stretch, baby,” he groans, pressing a palm against the center of your tummy.

you whined, linking a leg around his slim waist before more inches got swallowed by your dripping cunt. toji’s brawny body was careful not to crush you - just almost, and you felt his untrimmed, curly chest hair tickle against your tummy. “thereeee she fuckin’ is— mmph,” he lowly growls, hinting at your tender g-spot once his plump tip gives it a single tap.

as toji’s body hovers over you - all you’re staring at is each and every lightning-shaped vein that pulses through his beefy biceps. from the neck down, he’s smeared in a pool of his sweat, and he’s now softly piercing his teeth into your left shoulder. the edge of his rough lip scar bristles against your skin whilst he’s finally snugly fit inside. you braced for impact, and a single thrust felt like you were gonna break. toji then starts to rock into you, feeling you cutely tremor beneath him as his bushy happy trail pricks against your tummy after each salacious stroke.

once he begins up his notoriously, insane pace, toji surprises your frantic pussy with a single thrust that nearly snatches your breath away. “f… fuck!” you’d squeal, clawing your nails into his back. it was just one thrust - one single thrust, and you were already spasming underneath him. “d- daddy, fuuuck-”

“who?” toji hums, softly lifting one of your legs, carelessly tossing it over his shoulder. you’re panting as his agonizingly slow, precise thrusts continue.

hooded, droopy eyes of yours do a quick scan down toji, and first — it lands on his slight beer belly. it’s not that big, but it’s nice ‘n round, plump from all sides with a dark fluffy patch of chest hair painting the entirety of his body from the neck down. the carpets match the drapes for sure, and you moaned once toji’s hips rolled into you with a single impactful slam.

“tojiiii-” you mewled, prying his hand away from your spit-dripping lips, hearing the constant snarling groans of the weak boxspring below you both.

toji snickers, sneaking both big hands toward your snapping hips before drawing circles around your skin with the tips of his thumb. “nah, y’didnt say that, girl,” and you whined, feeling him pull out for a second just to slap his tanned, leaking tip against your puffed pussy. from your poor, swollen clitoral hood—you’re drooling with arousal and you just couldn’t help it.

cotton filled your ears as your lips shifted to a cute, chastened pout. “tooojii-” and that earned another slap of his tip against your wet pussy. the wet slosh that echoed from between your thighs always made him groan, and toji brought a few more kisses toward your ankle as he brought your raised leg up to his lips.

“ah ah, dirty girl. repeat y’erself for me,” he clicks his tongue, his gruff tone sounding like nothing more than fake pity. you mewled out a sweet ‘lil tune of incoherent whimpers that translated into soft ‘oh fuck’s’ and ‘pleaseplease’ once he’s re-aligning his reddened, split tip. your leg’s still tossed over his shoulder and you whined, feeling the flat of his palm gently press down on your tummy. “go on.”

“d.. daddy-” you spoke rawly, seeing the amused glint in toji’s eye. he hummed, watching the way your lips quivered and twitched. toji’s dick was just so rude, it had no types of manners whatsoever and you ended up choking on your moan once you felt yourself gaping. sultry-sweet mewls depart from your lips once he starts up another pace again, and he then tosses your other leg over his shoulder. “hngh- fuck me, fuck me, ugh- there, pleaseplease.”

toji’s speed was always relentless. he had the speed of a thoroughbred horse. not to mention, you probably looked a mess beneath him. he had not one but both of your legs lazily thrown over his shoulder whilst he was just fucking you downright stupid.

the stout of his cerise-colored tip was just so big ‘n narrow-shaped that it was splitting you open with each thrust. with bulged, widened eyes, you let off a gargled moan once you felt a bit of a tiny pudge in your tummy.

“mhm, there’s that cute bulge, babygirl,” he groans, lowering his head to rest between your chest. toji brings his lips toward your bare, bouncing breasts and he takes a moment to flick his tongue against each of your nipples. you moaned your first initial instinct to feel on his naturally buff triceps. all you’re hearing above you was the occasional wet pops of toji’s mouth leaving your tits and the loud echoey slaps of hot skin.

“ ‘m gonna cummm,” you dragged out your words, hearing the breathy sound of your shaky voice pick up. rawly, he’s slamming his hips into you, unapologetically battering your pussy with each tormenting hit. you were seeing blurry blots of white within no time, and you were pretty sure you were on the brink of short-circuiting once toji’s fat, split tip struck itself against your cervix. “o- oh my goddd!”

a low, pitchy grumble scratches his smoky throat before he gives his hefty weight one solid shove against you. your clit’s just spasming as it’s continuously being stimulated, and at the same second, toji’s taunt muscles were flexing.

“ah, fuck,” he hisses, maintaining his firm grip on your legs that still hung over his tense shoulders. toji quite literally had you folded like a lawn chair. “damn- so cute when ya squeeze ‘round me right before you finish,” he jibes, already feeling the slippery trail of your arousal spill down your sprawled thighs.

you’re seeing nothing but a whole new world of white - bright, blinding white as the pit of your stomach ignites with a fire. you’re losing it underneath him as your thighs rapidly shake while he’s still buried balls deep.

“uugh-” your shrilling orgasm belts from your throat and toji presses his plump, hot lips against yours. as he’s savoring your lips, his ripped body continues to grind against yours. while you felt his dick twitch inside, feeling a wave of swarming butterflies reside in your tummy or maybe that was something else?

“atta- girl,” he pauses between sloppy, slick kisses. the sides of toji’s head were dripping with droplets and droplets of fresh sweat, and the aroma of both intimate bodies was stronger than ever. toji’s cock was continuously being hugged by your clingy walls that forevermore clenched around him internally. dark, jade eyes glance down at you before he gives your wet pussy a ‘praising’ pat.

“heh, good job i guess, but in my humblest opinion, baby, y’er cunt could use a bit more wor-”

“nobody . . asked you.”

“girl-”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU.

it was probably the millionth stinging swat! that was sharply smacked against your sobbing, dripping pussy before you’re nothing but a speechless, whimpering mess.

“awwwh, don’t get shy on me, sweetheart,” geto gravelly purrs, using a free hand to crane your neck toward the mirror.

tightly, you clench down on your jaw as you’re just leaning back against geto’s bare chest. teeth-shatter orgasm after orgasm’s been ripped out of your raw, parched throat and you could let off the cutest, cooing ‘oooh’ once geto lifts you from his fat cock.

his tip—it’s red, a sanguine ruby red with each veiny side covered with prominent aroused veins. geto’s dick was so pretty though - the mere definition of pretty.

its got more of a dark tan from top to bottom, and it’s larger than average length. he’s got a cute, lazy curve that causes his shaft to lean more while stuffed inside you. near his base, it's decorated with black, semi-trimmed pubic hair that paints against bare skin.

best believe he has a happy trail too. starting at his navel, it’s a few curly specks of black hair that naturally trace further and further down his chiseled chest before reaching the lower spots of his skin.

geto’s harshly panting against the shell of your ear with his free hand starting to maneuver circles against your clit. “looook,” and you moaned the instant another mean slap! hits against your slick pussy.

bleary, half-open eyes of his meet yours, and your body instinctively reclines back against his chest. geto’s still wearing his robe while he’s having his way with you too. the fleecy, oversized sleeves of the cloth repeatedly tickled against your skin after each sloppy slam of your hips.

“hah- your eyes always widen a bit when i pinch your pretty clit likeee this-” and a loud, pitchy mewl escapes from your scratchy throat before his bulbous-shaped tip slides against your entrance. “don’t be scared to get a ‘lil loud, sweetheart. always… love that pretty voice when ‘m prying her—ugh, open.”

labored, raucous breaths left out of you as your quivering legs wobbled over him. geto’s dick was overly tall - especially while it stretched inside of your core, and you were biting back high-pitched whines once you flop back down on his lap. he’s got a bit of a hooked curve, and every time the head of his tip politely tapped its way against your g-spot, you whimpered. the prolonged length of geto always got you so wet, and he never minded letting you ride him.

“suguru, f- fuuuck-” you moaned quietly, tightly holding onto his knees. his cock’s just lodged inside, and you’re in the background, sobbing off those adorable wails once his tip’s just mercilessly lodging inside of your pussy.

“roll ‘em, roll those hips for me, shit-” he grunts, flaring his nostrils. swatting palm after palm against your rotating ass, geto laid his legs flat against the mattress.

dark, almond-shaped eyes peer towards your rear that’s just loudly slap slap slapping against his veiny cock and he sucks in a single shallow breath.

the length of his dick was so long, damn near never-ending as it explored through each part of your cunt, and you whimpered once you felt the head of his shaft thrash against your throbbing g-spot.

not once, not twice, not even thrice but four times..

the fat crown head of his shaft then starts meanly battering itself against a particular heart-shaped spot until you’re just babbling his name again and again. your jaw drops, and it feels like you are about to bend, break, or even snap in two. he’s big, very big, and every time he spanked your ass, you’re brought right back into reality.

“sugu- suguruuu, ‘m not gonna last-” you whine, hearing his gruff laughter from behind you. it felt like a tenfold increase of pleasure swelled within you and you’re just about there. a rippling wave surged through your tummy as you chased your high. it’s practically in arms reach.

it’s not ‘till geto’s angry, beat-red tip wetly slaps against your tender cervix twice and oh, you nearly become brain-dead. he’s reached so far, and for once, you were wordless with only the exception of a few croaking squeaks. “good girl, good fuckin’ ngh- girl,” geto grunts, wrapping a beefy arm around your waist.

you’re still bouncing on his cock in reverse when something in you finally snaps. you let off a long, five-second mewl as you’re cumming and it felt like every muscle in your body was spasming. you stilled your hips as you were coming to your titillating end after a few everlasting-like seconds, trying to catch your breath.

“goddamn-”

but apparently, geto couldn’t last much either because, within a blink of an eye, he’s cumming too - hard.

the sensitive head of his cock couldn’t contain itself any longer, and you moaning once you hear the slick sloshes of his cum dribble inside of you. it’s a hot, creamy batch that eventually overflows inside of you, leading to it spilling down the sides of your open thighs. “f- fuck,” geto drawls huskily between spurts, bringing both scarred hands toward your hips.

frothy, velvety rivulets of his mess start to stick against his thighs as you sit on his lap, not moving an inch. “ ‘m so… full, suguru-” you breathed, letting off an airy gasp of a sigh once you slouched back into his chest.

you felt geto’s rapid heartbeat behind you, and even now - he’s still cumming inside you, filling up your pretty pussy with ropes and ropes of drippy, hot cum.

“good girl,” he sighs, sneaking a kiss near the left side of your neck. you hummed silently before geto abruptly pulled you up from his lap, sitting up on the bed. “you can get even fuller though, sweetheart,” and your eyes widened once he suddenly lifted you off the bed with him. humming lowly, geto snickers before helping you re-align yourself back on his dripping, swollen tip while holding you in mid-air.

instinctively, your arms snaked around his clammy neck and you moaned once he had you in a literal standing-up position.

“up and at ‘em. let’s work on that stamina from this angle now, yeah, big girl?”

[digitalisnarcissus]

Apple said it was “gravely disappointed” that it would no longer be able to offer the security feature to British customers, after the UK government asked for the right to see the data.

It said the removal of the tool would make users more vulnerable to data breaches from bad actors, and other threats to customer privacy. It would also mean all data was accessible by Apple, which could share it with law enforcement if they had a warrant.

😬

[your-decay]

pairings: isagi yoichi x reader, bachira meguru x reader, nagi seishiro x reader, itoshi rin x reader (all separate) cw: smut, panty stealing, oral (female receiving), no usage of condoms, implied overstimulation.

isagi yoichi and jerking off with your panties before a game,

it’s criminal, really — how easily you slipped them into his palm, the delicate wisp of lace bunched between his calloused fingers like a silent promise. he should’ve had the discipline to pocket them, pretend it hadn’t happened until after the match. but no — instead he’s rutting himself against the soft, already damp fabric in some secluded locker room stall, forehead pressed against the cool wall, one arm braced as his hips twitch and grind down desperately. his flushed, leaky tip smearing pearly white pre against the costly, likely imported material. and in that hazy moment, he truly can’t decide what’s worse: the slow ruin of your panties, or the filthy, unspeakable thrill that you wanted him to have them. that you’d snuck them into his hand like some perverse gift, knowing exactly what he’d do with them. the thought alone has his stomach knotting and his voice catching in a low, guttural groan, hips stuttering in desperate, pathetic need.

bachira meguru and his infatuation with your arousal,

it’s obscene. sick, even. the way his golden eyes glint when you’re spread out before him, arousal glistening like some liquid sin. he acts like a man starved, tongue darting out to lap up every drop with shameless abandon. you watch as he humps against the mattress, the motion clumsy and eager, his mouth still greedily sucking at the slick he’s gathered, throat working around it with a pleased, muffled moan. it’s not enough for him to just have you — no, bachira’s obsession is in the taste, the smell, the way your body betrays you for him. he’ll press his thumb to your clit, not to please you properly, but just to watch your essence ooze out, thin strings clinging to his skin like spun sugar. and the grin he wears? crooked, unhinged, like he’s drunk on you and high off every shiver, every gasp, every filthy sound you make for him.

nagi seishiro and the mean matting presses he puts you in,

it starts innocent enough — or as innocent as it can when he’s already got you face down, ass up, eyes bleary and hands fisted in the sheets. but nagi is lazy by nature, and halfway through those slow, grinding thrusts, he decides it’s too much effort to hold himself up. so he drops all his weight onto you, one arm hooking around your waist to keep you pinned as his hips continue their relentless, shallow rolls. the sheer, overwhelming girth of him makes your breath hitch and your body jolt against the mattress, whimpers muffled by the pillow. behind you, his voice is low, breathy, thick with hazy pleasure. “‘s good… jus’ stay—still,” he slurs against your skin, teeth grazing your shoulder. it’s unintentional cruelty, the way he fills you to the brim and holds you there, too heavy, too deep, leaving you trembling and ruined beneath him.

itoshi rin and his flushed sensitive tip,

the second he steps through the door, sweaty from training, tension thick in his shoulders — he wants it. not dinner. not sleep. just your hand wrapped around him, squeezing, coaxing, making him unravel. his onyx hair spills across the pillow, pretty pink lips parted, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. every stroke of your fingers drags beads of slick pre down your palm, the head of his cock so sensitive he shudders with every pass. he’s pliant like this — needy. eyes glazed, lashes fluttering. and your words? the quiet, syrupy praises you murmur against the shell of his ear? they shatter him. “did so good today,” you whisper, “so proud of you, rin.” his adam’s apple bobs on a thick swallow, a broken moan caught in his throat. the praise, the tender way you say it, feeds something primal in him — so much so he’d willingly let himself come undone at your hands again and again if it meant hearing it. if it meant being good for you.

© your-decay. all rights reserved.

[wonallofme]

let it out, loser!

tw and tags: boxer!jungwon x fem!reader, smut, no condom, penetration, creampie, squirt, heavy dubcon, no plot just porn, the sex is nasty af, a little of blood (biting lips and fight wounds), allusion to past noncon, insanity from both of them. word count: 1.7k note: hi! i haven't written anything in a long time and just wanted to do something short. this is my first (official) enhypen piece, hope someone here likes it. if you know me from my other blog, you just know the sex i write is not the most sane one. again, this is pure fiction! Please be careful about the tags you wish to block.

credits for the divider: @bernardsbendystraws (link)

The sound of his keys being thrown to the table in your kitchen shouldn’t be that hot. The sound of his bag hitting your floor with fury shouldn’t make your panties get wet. Even more, the sound of his heart beating inside his chest so fast shouldn’t make you excited for what was about to come.

Knowing too well how he, his breath, his steps, his things, sounded when he was angry after a loss, shouldn’t turn you on.

One, two, three, four. You counted the steps he took.

Usually, if he walked around the room, he would be searching for condoms. He didn’t walk that much, so you immediately knew, he would be harder that night.

After all, he needed to let everything out to be himself the next day.

‘’I know you’re awake,’’ he said, making you open your eyes to not pretend anymore.

He didn’t try to be gentle.

His face was a mess, even in the darkness of the night, with the little to almost no light that trespassed your curtains, you could see a faint purple color on his cheek, and a bright fresh red on his lip. Both meant he would leave you hurting too.

You didn’t have to ask what he wanted from you.

You ruffled in your sheets.

You moved them so he could accommodate himself between your legs, and rubbing your eyes from the recent nap you had, you simply let him take your pajama shorts off.

It was better when you didn’t interrupt him.

You don’t hate this version of him. You know that, when the morning comes, he’ll be your nice boyfriend again. He’ll make breakfast and won’t talk at all about the night or his fight. He’ll let you clean his wounds, he’ll give you a silent soft kiss after walking you to class, and then he’ll go to the gym to keep training.

He made it hurt those nights, but he never made it hurt in your daily life.

Jungwon is the kind of boyfriend that makes sure you’re always comfortable while having sex. He leaves soft pecks on your cheek while fingering you, and he asks if you’re okay when he puts it in. He’s so tender, sometimes, you’re the one afraid of hurting him.

So, these times, when he doesn’t ask how you feel, and he just takes, you try to understand him.

A whimper came out of your mouth, totally involuntarily, when you felt his spit touching your entrance.

He was over you, between your legs, forcing them open with his own amplitude, staring at your entrance and how his saliva mixed with your wetness.

For these occasions, that little help was more than enough for you. He almost laughed. A smirk appeared on his mouth, and he let a curse out. Were you happy he was a mess? Was he really that pathetic? Why were you always so excited when he arrived from losing a match?

‘’You’re lucky I’m this kind, crazy bitch.’’

Pressing his tip on your wet clit, he exhaled loudly, looking defeated, before moving it down between your lips, smearing his spit along. He didn’t look at your eyes in this mode. He didn’t dare to look at your face. He concentrated on what he wanted from you, and you tried to find what parts of him were wounded so you could make a list of things you might need.

Ointment, bandages, cold pads, maybe you would have to cook him something nice too. Did you have apples left?

You couldn’t continue thinking when he slid in.

The burning made you leave a hurt sound out. You whimpered again, because of the pain, and hissed when he pulled out.

He didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t kiss your lips to ease it up or apologise in your ear before stopping altogether. You could see his mind thinking of something, and you wanted to suggest him, maybe he could give you more of it? As if reading your mind, he spat on his hand, a long line of drool finding his cock, and some of it spilling on your pussy on the way.

Your legs trembled with the sensation, somehow feeling a rush in your entire body. You wanted it so bad, this side of him, that when he wrapped the back of your thighs to oblige it all the way to your breast, you cried.

Not because of the sudden movement, or because of how challenging the position was, but because you knew he wanted you to feel it all.

And, when he wanted that, you would really feel it all.

‘’Fu-fuck,’’ you moaned when he bullied his way inside again.

Immediately after talking, you bit your lips.

He didn’t like it when you talked. Whether it was to complain or praise him, he didn’t care. He needed you to not talk or make him think or look at your face. He needed you to be, if possible, dead silent to only concentrate on his own thoughts.

Of course, that was almost impossible, so he would press a hand on your mouth if you didn’t behave, and in the worst cases, to mute you, he would press your face down.

Whimpers were acceptable. Broken moans, bearable. But words? No, never.

You wanted to apologize but it wasn’t the right answer, you knew it too well. You know him too well. Or so, you wanted to believe.

He pushed your legs further, slamming inside, pushing the air out of your lungs.

It continued hurting, but you couldn’t care less.

The awareness of him being there, the sound of his breathing, his hisses, the groans, you wanted it all.

A wet echo filled the room with the force he used to fuck you and your wet pussy taking him. Your walls moved to accommodate him, to welcome him with much enthusiasm, just like your hands pulling your legs closer to make it more comfortable for him.

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and just the memory of his cum all inside you made you tighten around him.

Inside your mind, you repeated give it to me, please, because your mouth wasn’t allowed to do it. It felt way too good. The first time, it made you deeply uncomfortable to feel it inside. You felt dirty, disgusting, and you couldn’t believe it had happened. Now, you couldn’t find the words to ask for it again.

You could only hope he lost.

‘’Fuck, why can’t I…? Fuck!’’

His torso raised, his hips aligned at a better angle, and he thrusted harder.

Your teeth were sinking on your lower lip, brows furrowing and eyes closing to not show him how much you were enjoying it. Probably, it was useless to even try to hide it.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso because of the sweat. Yours, his. Fuck, you heard him curse. The lower front wet spot, in no way, was from just sweat.

The spasms were arriving. You felt your abdomen get tighter, and you tried to calculate how much time had passed. It hasn’t been long enough, you concluded. You couldn’t cum, you had to hold it in, for him, because it couldn’t end so fast. For him, that short time was not enough. It couldn’t be enough.

He needed you to hold it. He needed it. He.

You cried. This time, a few tears escaped. You turned your face to the side, and a salty flavor on your tongue distracted you.

You only noticed you bit yourself so hard your lips were bleeding when you felt more of the metallic taste invading you.

Out of the ordinary, he leaned to inspect your face. His hand tactlessly gripped your chin and forced you to face him, and when he saw the drops of blood flooding your delicate lip, under your teeth, he gulped.

‘’You’re such a mess too.’’

His mouth found yours in a second, obliging you to leave your poor lip free. He, first, just grazed them, doubting to do such a soft act with you, before crashing your wound with his.

The kiss, just like the sex, was not delicate at all.

The sting in your lips was not a sensation you were familiar with. His lips were always soft with you, at least until that moment. At much, they would be lustful, making out with you for long periods of time, but never brute.

His fingers stabbed your jaw, and his tongue prodded out.

You couldn’t breathe properly, overwhelmed with his strength, so you opened your lips to inhale some air, an act he took advantage of by barging his tongue into your mouth.

You had no way of using your brain at that moment. His tongue inside your mouth stealing your little air, his entire weight sinking you to the bed, his shoulders maintaining your legs up and against your chest, his cock balls deep inside you. It was all too much. Your head was too dizzy to remember exactly at what point you had your orgasm.

You remember your legs shaking, and an embarrassing loud cry muffled with his mouth against yours.

Also, you remember the broken moan he left out, and his hips reassuming a brutal pace that makes you roll your eyes with the mere memory. His long cock had hit a spot that made you lose yourself, and your pussy, so sensitive with how he had continued using you, had the most intense orgasm you ever had.

The clean gush finished wetting the front of your shirt, splashing his abdomen and making a pod slide down onto the bedsheets. Sadly, he didn’t care that you were trembling and bawling because of it. He plunged back inside, biting your cries and mixing both bloods while trying to find his own orgasm.

He left it out all inside you.

When you felt his warm cum invading you, you passed out.

After that, all is black. You try to move your body, finding it uncomfortable and painful. Still, you turn your head, finding your boyfriend’s naked back beside you. From the way his breath is calm now that he’s sleeping, you deduce he’s back to normal after finding his release.

Your shirt is different, clean, and the bed sheets are blue instead of white, so you know it’s not the same set from the night before.

At the sensation of his cum leaking out of you, you wonder if changing your clothes and sheets was the only thing he did to you while you were unconscious.

[biteyoubiteme]

I make it sticky like

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: you decide to ditch condoms. 

warnings: ��!!! slight breeding kink?, no protection, talk of birth control, yeonjun calls reader baby, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.2k 

an: a little something for yeonjuns bday! not proofread sorry! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

It wasn't a big deal when you suggested ditching condoms. the two of you on a facetime call while you sat alone in your apartment studying. yeonjun had been tasked by his roommates to pick a few things they had forgotten to grab for dinner. picking up the phone with a single question for you since he was already at the store.

“I don’t remember if I left any spare condoms at your place and I know I'm out at mine after the last time you were over,”

“um let me check,” and even though you didn’t live together you both had drawers of things at the other apartment. spare changes of clothes, toiletries, and random pieces of jewelry found in every nook and cranny. you shuffled over to your side first checking and coming up empty. When you pulled open yeonjuns drawer you found the little empty box holding it up in front of your phone to show him, “Nope all used up,” you crumpled the thin cardboard tossing it in the bin next to your desk.

“I'll pick up a box for mine and a box for yours,” you could see him examining the fruit second in front of him,“how do you know if you’re grabbing good apples?” he asks at the same time you say, “I mean you don’t have to,”

you had already set your phone back up against your open laptop, pen in hand ready to get back to going over your notes when he muttered a soft, “what?” it was the way he had said it that made you look up. all efforts toward picking out the right fruit were gone as he thought over whether he had heard you right or not.

“I mean I've been on my birth control for a few months now but it’s just a suggestion if you’re more comfortable with condoms still that's fine too,”

“No, I'll just leave them off the list then,” and he was back to looking at the apples, brows furrowed and his jaw tight, “and i'll just pick up strawberries instead,”

it was the end of that conversation and you didn’t think about it much, you two had been having sex for longer than you expected the two of you to last without ditching condoms so it seemed so natural a progression. The fact you two hadn’t forgotten once or twice to come prepared was something to be a little proud of. and when you wished yeonjun a safe drive back home hanging up your call you didn't think you would hear back from him until after dinner.

To your surprise, you got a knock on your door and he was standing right in front of you. “what are you doing here I thought-“

“I just dropped off whatever I got I couldn’t stay there,”

you pulled open the door letting him in, “why? I thought you had been excited for-,” you had only just twisted the lock when he had you pinned against the door. hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours, you almost couldn't catch your breath, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt letting him have control.

“You can’t drop a bombshell and not reap the consequences,” he mutters in between kisses, lips working down your jaw, nipping at your skin.

“bombshell? jjunie what are you talking about?” but you realize almost as soon as the words are out of your mouth aided by the way his erection is pushed against you. “oh,” you breathe, his hips rocking against yours for friction. how you didn’t realize the switch in his demeanor as soon as you made the suggestion was lost on you, but it was exactly the look he gave when teased him in public, all his short answers and slight pout making sense now.

“I need you so bad,” his hands already pushing into the waistband of your shorts. the two of you stumbled to your room and when the back of your legs hit the bed you fell back taking him along with you.

In all the time you've been together yeonjun never skipped out on getting you off at least once before having you get off another time on his cock. only he was frantic in stripping you down, your hand instinctively reaching out to the nightstand only for your wrist to be caught in his grasp, “all out,” he reminds you free hand circling your clit, dipping along your folds to check how wet you are.

“habit,” you gasp, spreading your legs, rolling your hips to try and meet his fingers but he pulls his hand away to grab his aching cock.

as soon as he presses into you, you can tell the difference, the both of you letting out deep moans. every slow inch stretching you out, no barrier as you feel every ridge and vein. you’re practically sucking him in, his hips stuttering in their thrusts at the feeling of bottoming out, his face is pressed into your neck as he tries to calm himself, tell himself to take it slow but you’re a little devil as you mutter, “are you going to pump me full of your cum?”

you can feel his moan rumble through his chest, cock twitching inside you at the question. he doesn't even care if he seems desperate because he is, he won't ever hide that he wants you. “yes,” he nods, moving so that he notches the back of your knees in the crook of his elbows. “I'm going to make you fucking sticky with how much comes out,”

you’re completly stuffed full of his cock, hips snapping into yours as he picks up the pace, the soft slapping sounds growing louder and louder, the angel you’re at sends him right to you gspot, your head rolling back as you reach out to grab his biceps, nails digging into his skin. your orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach as yeonjun mumbles, “Beg, beg me for my cum,”

“Please, please, I need it jjunie, I want to be stuffed full of it,” his hair is stuck to his brow, his moans building up in his throat as he gets sloppy with his thrusts. “I'm going to fuck you full of it baby,” he gives a particularly hard thrust that sends you over the edge, pussy convulsing around him as you cum.

“I'm gonna-“ he can’t even get the words out before his eyes are rolling back all his muscles tensing as he cums, body trembling as he shoots his hot load inside you every slow thrust pushing it further and further into you. his orgasm lasts so much longer than usual, the intensity shocking him as he presses himself against you, holding you as close as he can.

“fuck,” he says against your pulse trying to catch his breath, “I didn’t think i’d cum so fast,” you can’t help but giggle bushing your fingers through his hair. When he finally pulls out he looks in amazement, “Push it out baby,” thumb rubbing at your clit making you twitch as he watches how your mixed wetness drips down and out of you.

“I've wanted to see that for so long” he slides his fingers through your folds picking up as much of his cream as he can before shoving it right back into you, your knees trying to close in at the sensation. “just look at that,” he whispers looking at all the sticky slick on his fingers, “I could get used to this,”

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty

[anisangeldust]

ok feed us with the nastiest, freakiest sloppiest, filthiest older hayden smut that you can write of since people here wanna be annoying over his age 😠. i would literally ride that man until we make a new strain of chlam-[GUNSHOTS]

I’ll write a blurb rn off the dome to keep yall satisfied while I conjure up the full fic.

Anyways this’ll be Hayden smut, click away if that bothers you. PWP, Age gap (hay is 44, reader is 20s), n right into smut cuz I’m lazy 😋

Despite his initial belief, DILF!HAYDEN CHRISTENSENS’s age didn’t hinder his ability to find a beautiful girlfriend— or to have mind blowing sex.

Crawling over to his form on the bed, you notice his boxers growing much too tight from the bulging of his fat cock. “Well hello pretty lady..” his deep and rough voice coos out before his two large hands come up on either side of your waist.

“Hey handsome..” your tone only a whisper as you straddle down his growing erection, gyrating your hips and resting your hands on his toned pecs.

His hand moves down to your hip, finally traveling to panties and toying with the waist line “Aren’t these pretty, all for me?” His thumb toys with the wet patch, gently rubbing your clit from the outside.

“Mm.. of course” you keep moving your hips, rubbing and hand down to his abs and finally his v-line. His hands move off you to help tug down his boxers, the firmness of his cock springing free from the constructing fabric. A rough groan bubbles from his chest as you hold his girthy length in your hands.

Your other hand cups his heavy ballsack, earning a growl from your older boyfriend. “That’s it babygirl.. mhm..” his gruff air settling hot and heavy over your shared room. It had been a long time since you’d entertained the idea of condoms. A few times you two had tried, but your grabby hands always ended up pulling it off so Hayden could have it raw— as any good man should.

“Yeah? You like that?” You giggle and spit on your palm, toying with his mushroom head before you move your panties to the side and run it through your weeping slit.

Hayden holds your hips tight. “Fuck.. you know I do..” he holds you steady as you start to sink down “slowly.. slow.. like that baby.. oh-“ he moans deeply, one hand on your ass guiding you up and down his thigh length.

“Fuck.. hay.. oh!” You whine and shift as you bottom out. “Mmpphh.. god you’re huge..” you eyes close in ecstasy already. Gently, you rise and move down on his cock, fucking yourself down on his impressive body.

“God your pussy is so perfect.. gripping me so fucking- tight.!” He takes control, firmly using your body for his own pleasure, and you loved it.

The only sounds were heavy moaning and slapping skin as you let the sensations of this perfect moment take over “Hay.. ‘m so..close..” you lean down so your basically laying on him, face nuzzled into his neck, your lips finding his Adam’s apple and gently sucking on it.

“Yeah? M-me too baby.. fuck..” he moves his tough hands to the globes of your ass, leaning back to let you at his throat. The deranged shoulda of squelching fluids blues into the distance as you feel your body shiver, the knot in your abdomen snapping as his tip prods at you g-spot.

Hayden made sure you had come before he let his thrusts get sloppy and hard. “Squeezing me so.. fucking right. Fuck babe” his thrusts stop as he fills you up, a growl of satisfaction leaving his throat.

“You’ve such a perfect pussy..” he croons and rubs his hand in your hair.

You giggle drowsily “and your old man cock is perfect..” you smile up at him as he feigns anger “Old? I’ll show you old man cock” he scoffs before sitting up and pushing you back on the bed.

[heartyluv]

Note: Literally after I thought about this and after Ivy said that I need to do it, I had to deliver. So everyone, kindly thank @asiatic-apple because she is a phenomenal motivator. The day I take a break from Tumblr fr will be a day for the booksss LOLL. Also, forgive me if this is not the best. Ideas were rushing and I did this under an hour. 🙏🏽

Creds to @/dollywons for the dividers!

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut (Not too detailed), Caleb is toxic and a baby trapper…

ToxicBabyFather!Caleb/Reader

✦ Okay, so you and Caleb have been together since like high school. He was in several of your classes and the first time you two had a conversation, he knew that he would forever be wrapped around your finger.

✦ The behavior he portrayed that caused you two to break up in the first place was not something he’s ever kept hidden from you. Truthfully, because you loved him so much and loved how he loved you, you believed that you could tolerate it enough until he fixed it. He never did.

✦ Possessive, obsessive, overly protective, crowding, overwhelming—just the definition of too much. But unfortunately, you were with him for almost a decade and in that time, you two had a baby girl that he and you love to death, but it wasn’t enough to keep you together.

✦ He’s definitely tried proposing to you several times, before and after you got pregnant, but you always said no. And you believed your pregnancy was an accident, a broken condom. But you thought it could be a good thing—that a baby would fix him.

✦ You never knew the man had gotten you pregnant on purpose the night you two had one of your more serious fights. He got on his knees and apologized over and over until you caved in and let him fuck you stupid. So drunk on dick, you never noticed when he sneakily took the condom off after he pulled out to swiftly change positions.

✦ “You can’t leave me, please don’t leave me. I’m everything you are…you’ll always be where I am.” His strokes would’ve been deep and forceful, oh my gosh…He had you bent over, back arched, and you had those sheets balled up in your fists while you’re fucking DROOLING!!!

✦ Despite the nasty words exchanged and his intense gaslighting in that fight, you stayed long enough for your daughter to be four years old before you actually called it quits, “for good”. But Caleb never relented. Because of that little girl, it was the only reason he had access to you. Just like he wanted, exactly how he planned.

✦ He was always on time to pick her up and to drop her off, but you’ve always known that it was just so that he could get under your skin, to make your body hot and your cunt hungry for him. You were weak with him.

✦ He makes sure to slide in his little threats, too. Even does it with a smile.

✦ “I hope you haven’t been bringing anyone in here. You wouldn’t want to make your future husband angry, would you baby?”

✦ You’re not allowed to date. He made that clear. I know what you’re thinking. How the hell could he control that? Simple. He has you obsessed with that COCK!! It has become physically impossible for you to even think about fucking or being with anyone else because of him. And you refused to say it out loud, but the fact that you let him fuck you RAW EVERY SINGLE TIME, tells him that you’re just as addicted.

✦ Never did you think you’d be a woman hung up on a man’s dick the way you are with Caleb’s, but if you’ve never had it, you’d never understand.

✦ Caleb’s dick is thick and it’s long, but not to where it’s scary. In fact, he fills you up so perfectly. Y’all are like a majorly fucked up puzzle. The way the tip of his cock always kisses your cervix like a threatening promise, making you feel how he’ll always be this deep in you is INTOXICATING OMG….

✦ And Caleb will literally come back to see you the same day he picks your daughter up. He’ll drop her off with his mother or something, and you hate that because it’s supposed to be his time with her. But when he has you spread wide for him in your bed, your pussy sucking him in so desperately, it becomes quite difficult to focus on anything else.

✦ “For someone to hate me so bad, you love begging me to fill you with my cock, don’t you pretty?” he mockingly coos, your legs over hooked around his arms. “Maybe I should get you pregnant again, hm? I already own you. Why don’t I just do it again so I can make sure everyone sees how much?”

✦ Your bodies mix and work like perfect fucking chemistry. YOU KNOW BED CHEM BY SABRINA CARPENTER?!?!? YEAH, YEAH THAT’S YOU TWO!!!!

✦ He’s always whispering the filthiest things, too. And you hate love that you clench around him tighter when he threatens imaginary men you’ve never even met.

✦ “Gonna take a picture of my cum dripping out of you before I leave. Maybe I’ll come back to stuff you again so you won’t forget that I was here, hm?”

✦ “If I ever find out you let anyone else touch my pussy, step foot under the roof I put over your head, I’ll blow his fucking brains out.”

✦ “I’ll wait till you come back to your senses and you’re begging me to come home. I’ll keep having you like this until then, yeah? And my cock hungry princess is gonna let me.”

✦ “You’re so pretty for me, baby. So, so fucking pretty. You feel me in your stomach? Wait until I put another baby in you. You’ll be feeling me for a loonngg time.”

✦ Should you stop fucking the man you were supposed to have left? Yes. Should you stop letting him come over and fuck you whenever he wants to? Absolutely. But could you give up that euphoric buzz he grants you every time his dick pulses inside your walls? Fuck no.

Tags 🏷️: @obeythebutler @honeymoonfleur

[chaptersleftunwritten]

What a lie, what a lie, what a lie…

Blurb: During a smoke session Eddie is betted $100 that he won’t be able to sleep with you by the time summer rolls around. He proves them wrong.

Pairing: Dickish!Eddie Munson x Virgin!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Gambling, depictions of sexual content, mentions of drugs being taken, cursing, alcohol consumption, graphic descriptions, a lot of emotional damage in this one… Characters are 20+ college students.

-

Ethereal fairy lights doused you and Eddie in a golden hazy glow, both of your bodies glittering magically with sweat as your naked limbs entangled each other in an intimate embrace.

But something between you two was forever changed after that night of steamy heartfelt affection and you felt it like a knife twisting in your sternum as you listened to Eddie leave your dorm room without a goodbye. Not even a kiss as he pulled his ripped jeans over the skin of his still damp legs and ran.

You were never one to fuss. You never wanted to cause a scene or create an issue that never existed in the first place- you were ‘the cool girl’… but when your gut is unable to move on from something then you must investigate. You had to, why else would Eddie have left so suddenly if there was nothing wrong?

You gave yourself to him. You showed him not only your nude body, but you bore your soul to him. No one had ever gotten close enough to you to be as privileged as he was. No one had saw you so exposed. So vulnerable. Until him.

Unbeknownst to Eddie at the time, you had allowed him to take your virginity. You trusted him with your entire being and you believed that you truly loved him. You loved him enough to bleed for him- to hurt for him…

And after he fled that night, you laid on your crimson stained sheets and sobbed yourself to sleep. You can’t blame him for not knowing- but you also prayed for some tenderness from him. Even if you weren’t a virgin, sex is such a sacred act and aftercare should always be incorporated.

The following morning you awoke to an emptiness you’d never experienced before. Something had shifted and your innocence was gone. Girlhood was over and adulthood fucking sucked.

-

- Steve’s off campus apartment, 6 weeks prior -

-

The tip of the meaty blunt embers brightly with every drag Eddie takes, his eyes are almost a florescent shade of red and Steve is on his seventh beer of the night, “C’mon man, that shit would be so easy.” Steve laughs, his Adam’s apple bobs prominently as he tips his head back to down the rest of his alcoholic beverage.

“Nah, not interested.” Eddie passes the joint to Jonathan who has almost been swallowed up completely by the beanbag his body is submerged in.

Steve gasps mockingly as his hands clasp together to crush the empty can of beer before he tosses it across the room- aiming for the trash can which he has already missed the past seven times… “I didn’t peg you as a chicken, Munson.” His fingers snap open another can, “Are ya scared or somethin’?” Steve’s eyebrows wiggle at Eddie and Eddie proceeds to drag his hand down his face, already tired of the conversation… or maybe it was just the weed settling into his system.

“I’m not scared, Harrington. I’m lazy. There’s a difference. Besides, what do I get out of it instead of a possible cream pie?” Eddie huffs a laugh, accompanied by Jonathan and Steve’s eyes spark with relentless mischief.

“If you put it like that…” Steve stuffs his hand into his pocket, rummaging around inside of the fabric before pulling out an array of objects. They consisted of a stray button, a small foil packet containing a condom and two $50 bills. He picks up the crumpled currency, slamming it in front of Eddie with a cocky grin splayed handsomely across his face, “A hundred bucks if you manage to bang her before summer.”

Steve knew that if he wanted to convince Eddie to do anything, he had to pay up. Whether it be drugs, booze or money, he knew if those three things were involved Eddie could be easily persuaded to do most things. And unfortunately… Eddie agrees.

“Fuck it, why not.” His hand slaps into Steve’s hard, the noise quaking through the small room as they shake on the agreement. This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had partook in some stupid shit suggested to him by Steve and Jonathan. He had done some crazy things before; jumping off of a roof into a dumpster (breaking his arm in the process), setting fire to his clothes just so he could test the ‘stop, drop and roll theory’, taking ecstasy before a rave (which led to him having a severely horrible psychedelic reaction) and the list goes on and on.

But this… this was a whole new level of low for Eddie. He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn’t let Steve win. His stubbornness would be the absolute death of him. Or so he thought…

“By summer! That’s… what? 7 weeks? Think you can tap that by then, Munson? Or is that not enough time…?” Steve was too confident, he could see this whole shit show going up in flames and he rejoiced in the idea of Eddie being the one having to pay up by the time the weather was its warmest.

“You’re fucking on, Harrington.” The words leave Eddie’s mouth in the form of a venomous competitive bite.

And just like that, the bet was confirmed.

-

The news arrived in the flesh form of Nancy Wheeler. Jonathan could never keep anything from her- he was sick with love and the guilt of the whole ordeal was eating him alive. He knew he would get the end of Steve’s wrath but he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to confess. Your only wish was that Nancy had known sooner. Before the damage was already done.

Your world was spinning on a side way axle when Nancy told you, and it has been spinning upside down ever since, “I can’t believe how moronic they all are! I’m so sorry you had to find out this way…” Her voice is washed out by a ringing that has taken over all of your senses. You were good at disassociation when it came to protecting your feelings- and that’s what you were doing. Nancy had no idea that you had totally zoned out whilst she continued to rabble on about how Steve had changed and how disappointed she was in Jonathan. Your mind was completely numb to all emotions and information.

You hadn’t heard from Eddie since that night… and now you understood why. Your gut feeling was proven right once again- but you weren’t glad this time around. You weren’t relieved like you usually were; you were hurt.

And you were fucking angry.

Still with a week to spare Steve coughed up the money, making Eddie $100 richer- but that couldn’t amount to what he had lost. Eddie was a player, you knew that from the very start- but you stupidly thought that he was different when it came to you. That you could somehow change the way he thought about relationships.

It was clear to you now that you never stood a chance against Eddie Munson. You never did.

Your first initial instinct is to confront him and Steve face to face, but something was holding you back. Was it fear, rage, agony? You didn’t know, but what you did know was that they already thought you were a joke, why would they take you serious now? The answer is, they wouldn’t. They would chew you up and spit you right back out. Their punchlines would be thrown at you and each one would knock the air from your lungs— you were a laughing stock to them.

The thought alone makes red hot tears streak from your mascara painted eyes, the corners of your lips stealing a taste of the salty liquid as it fell. Nancy had long gone and you decide in that moment that you weren’t going to class today. You couldn’t stay on campus grounds, each passing second intensified the crumbling of the hole in your chest, now so big and gaping that you feel as though your heart may just fall from its cage and land on the ground in front of you. Unbeating. Dead.

You walked until your legs turned to jelly, causing you to collapse on a nearby sidewalk. You were in a unrecognisable neighbourhood. Some of the houses look pristine from the outside, freshly coated paint that was clearly done annually, fences held securely together with the best knuckles and bolts and on the other hand, some of the homes looked like they are over three decades old- gutters filled with rancid leaves, unwanted ivy climbing the walls, windows so dirty and murky you wouldn’t be able to see inside unless you were inside.

The setting sun litters the sky with flaming clouds coloured the brightest shades of orange, pink and purple. You smile up at the visual, momentarily forgetting about the inner turmoil that has caused you to drown your sorrows in straight vodka and cigarettes.

“Oh, Eddie.” You cry and toast to the sky, bringing the clear vodka bottle back up to your lips, throwing your head back and gulping down as much of the pungent liquid as you possibly could stomach. The strong taste momentarily numbing your mind. The only thought that was cartwheeling through your intoxicated brain was why?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Why you? What was so challenging and intriguing about sleeping with you? Why not some other girl? Anyone else. Anyone but you.

More tears, less salt in your body- water replaced with alcohol. Your mind fizzes with warmth and your body is slowly shutting down on the edge of the road. Luckily, it’s quiet at this time of night. Everyone is at home with their families, tucking into some home cooked goods. You wish you were at home- you wish you had never left state to go to that stupid fucking college in the first place. You could have avoided this. Avoided him.

Your fingers twirl in the holes of your laddered tights, pulling on the fabric and watching the tear travel from your thigh down to your knee- which you only now register is bleeding. You must have fallen earlier, scuffing the skin pretty badly… but you can’t remember.

Blank spots taking over your memory? You’re nearly there. You’re nearly free of him- free of this day and of this shell which you call a body.

You just need to keep drinking. Finish your second bottle.

“What the fuck?” The voice is nearly enough to pull you back from the darkness, but your vision is blurry as you focus on the misshapen figure hovering above you, “Jesus Christ! You’re a fucking mess- what are you doing? Where have you been?” Eddie has no right to be angry at you, he caused this, but you’re putting your well-being at risk and he is disappointed in you. He thought you were smarter than this- he would rather you attack him, scream at him and hurt him back. But not this…

You’re nearly paralytic.

He had been searching for you all day, surfing through crowds in the canteen, asking around classmates and even speaking to randomers in the street.

Then he found you here. Cold to the touch. Anyone could have found you in this state, if it hadn’t been him… he doesn’t even want to think about what could have happened to you.

“Can you stand?” He asks gentler now, worry lacing itself through his voice and choking his voice box slightly. You bury your face into your hands, finding comfort there you breathe out an inaudible ‘no.’ Your breath whiffs back into your face and your nose scrunches at the scent. Pure alcohol. It’s nearly flammable.

Eddie sighs before scooping your frail body up from the ground, your fingers loosen and you end up dropping your bottle. The glass shatters all over the concrete, “Shit!” Eddie snips but you don’t even flinch at the ringing sound of broken glass- you’re too far gone.

“Do you even recognise me?” Eddie holds your sleep stricken face in the palms of his hands, forcing your gaze onto his softened features. You hum happily at the feeling of his cold rings pressing against your warm face, you feel as though you’re sweltering but in reality.. you’re icy to Eddies touch. There’s a moment he contemplates taking you to the ER, “You’re freezing, love.”

“You d..did this!” You hiccup, your finger jabbing weakly at Eddies chest. Your fingertip may as well have been a knife because Eddie’s heart sinks to his stomach as he holds you upright, knowing he drove you to this is sickening to him. He almost vomits… but you beat him to it.

He holds your hair back from your shoulders, “Let it out, honey.” With Eddie’s free hand he rubs your spine, his words of encouragement echoing through your empty skull.

“I hate you.” The sobbing arrived suddenly, causing your entire body to tremble. You’re beginning to feel the temperatures of outside and Eddie knows that he has to get you home quickly- despite how hurtful your drunken words are.

“I know.. I know you do.” His deep voice is strangled with sadness as he guides you over to his van which is parked across the street from where you had nested on the sidewalk, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.” You don’t respond, you just shake your head at him. Unable to bring up the words. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth.

Eddie’s grip on your shoulders is strong as his fingers stab into skin. You keep stumbling over your own two feet, your face would be hitting the ground if it weren’t for Eddie’s strength.

Your palms slam against the metal of his van door, steadying yourself there before Eddie helps lug you inside. You want to kiss him as he reaches over your body and belts you into your seat but you don’t- not because you wouldn’t but because you couldn’t. You feel as though you’re now unable to move your body- your limbs weighted down as you puddle into the musty passenger seat that wreaks of stingy weed with a twang of old booze.

You wonder how many girls have been in here before you, how many others had him and Steve ruined? You close your eyes to stop more tears from escaping, you have cried a river tonight and you’d much rather be numb now.

Cascading light etches it’s way through the smudged glass of the van, illuminating the inside just enough for you to see Eddie’s eyebrows knitted together in what you can only assume is either frustration or concentration.

One of his hands is secured on the steering wheel whilst his other arm is draped over your idle body- his attempt to try and keep you sitting upright and not accidentally smashing your face into the dashboard. If you weren’t so angry at him you would mould into his touch, but nothing can fix what he has broken.

Nothing.

His voice vibrates through the stuffy air and you wish you could make out what he is saying but you can’t. Your tired eyes are heavily lidded and your ears have totally switched off as you slump further into your seat, your head tilting back slightly as you drift in and out of consciousness. Your body is aching for rest. You just need sleep- this will all be so much better in the morning…

-

You don’t understand how or why you wake up in Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt but your investigative skills narrow it down to the taste of vomit in your mouth and the aspirin that has been left on Eddie’s bedside dresser alongside a tall glass of water.

‘Take this, I’ll be back soon. -Ed’s’ A note reads in sloppy handwriting, signed by Eddie. You would roll your eyes if your pounding headache wasn’t causing them to screw shut- why is it so fucking bright?

You blindly take the pills, the water cools the acidic tinge plaguing your throat and you gasp for air after chugging the entire glass, your cotton mouth leaving you still thirsty for more.

You’ve no idea what time it is or where your clothes are so you can get dressed and bolt before Eddie gets back. For some pitiful reason you’re not surprised that he went out and left you alone. It’s what he’s good at- making a mess and then running away.

Your exhausted body pushes itself up from the springy mattress. Every muscle in your body sore from laying in one solid position the entire night but thankfully the pain medication is starting to kick in for your headache.

Just as you manage to swing your legs off of the bed you hear a door slam shut, your body naturally jolting at the sound.

“It’s just me!” Eddie yells from a far off room and you feel panic begin to compress your chest, like a can being crushed until it’s flat. You’re too sober and hungover now to face him. You need to get out of here and as soon as humanly possible!

You contemplate taking on the window, but there’s no way you would be able to hold your own body weight right now. You would probably plummet to your death if you tried. So what do you do instead? You sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the bedroom door in horror and anticipation- awaiting your nearing fate. Which soon arrives in the form of a chocolate eyed man, his hair tied back messily into a ponytail and in his arms he holds a tray, “Good, you’re awake.”

You silently curse at the way your heart beats faster at the sound of his sweet voice.

Offering him nothing but a tight lipped smile your eyes fall curiously to the tray he is holding. Did he..?

“I made you something to eat,” he advances further into the room, stepping over loose t-shirts and clothes that have been discarded without a care onto the floor, “I know food is the last thing on your mind right now, but if you want to feel better you need to try and stomach something.” He places the tray next to your bare legs on the bed, his eyes flicking the the skin before back to your face.

He palms at the back of his neck nervously and you examine the dry toast on the plate, next to it is a blob of strawberry jelly and a chunk of butter, “I didn’t know if you’d like anything on it so I just kinda left it up to you.” He smiles at you and you nod in response, leaving the food untouched.

“You undressed me.” The thought makes you want to heave into his trash can. Unless he had done it with his eyes closed, which you doubt, that means he got to see your body again. Touch your skin again. He doesn’t deserve that.

“I.. uh.. you,” he coughs lightly to clear his throat, “You threw up everywhere. All over yourself… I didn’t have a choice.” A redness warms Eddie’s cheeks and you suck in an exaggerated breath, your lungs feel as though they are struggling to breathe.

“Right.” You nod, your eyes scan the room for any sign of your own clothes, which you’re unable to find. Eddie notices, “They are in the wash. Your clothes, I mean. If you’d like a pair of pants I can rummage around for you?” He walks over to his wardrobe and you can’t help but watch him. He is moving feverishly. He is anxious and he’s rambling.

“Your tights were pretty ripped up, you must have fell before I found you. I washed them anyways but I don’t know if they are salvageable.” You look to your knee, finding a massive bandaid stuck to the skin. You remember that part- you bleeding and falling. You don’t remember Eddie bandaging you up, though.

“Thanks.” Even in despair and rage, you remember your manners. This all only proves how much he is able to be a true gentleman- and how much he really must have gone out of his way to purposefully hurt you. It makes your eyes sting. If you hadn’t cried so much last night you probably would be able to muster some tears now- but you’re bone dry.

“Listen.. I.. I don’t know how to say this”, Eddie is cautious as he sits down next to you on the bed, ensuring to keep a good amount of separation between the two of you, “How I feel about you is real. Everything that came from our short time together is real, lovie… and.. and I’m a fucking idiot.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps, his throat clearly parched, “I won’t stop apologising, I won’t stop hating myself for what we did- for what I did.” His fingers twitch with need as Eddie contemplates reaching for your hand, but he ultimately decides against it, “I’m sorry.”

Your thumbs twirl with one another, your nail coming to pick at the sensitive skin around the cuticle, “You’ve really hurt me, Eddie.” Just when you thought the tears wouldn’t come, they do, “I can’t believe you made a fucking bet over me. I.. I’m not just some toy you can play with and then throw away when you’re satisfied. I’m a human being! And I’m mad at you.. I’m so mad!” The words squeak out as you let yourself feel everything you’d bottled up over the last few days. The mountainous emotions that you’d let fester deep within exploded through the floodgates.

“You’re such a fucking dick, Munson! I hate you right now!” Your breathing hitches as you struggle to control your breath, “I hate you..” The words are meek and small but they have their desired effect as Eddie’s heart becomes like melted wax in his chest, and it hurt for him to even breathe.

You meet Eddie’s gaze, tears were swimming in his honey brown eyes, but his face was rigid with focus, “I need some time away from you. I can’t.. I don’t want to forgive you right away.” You sniffle hard, your hand coming to paw at your soaked eyes, “What if you’re lying to me again?”

Plump pink lips part on Eddie’s face and he stands up momentarily, only to drop to his knees in front of you, “Let me prove it to you then. Let me make it up to you, please.” He begs, his hands resting on your bare knees and his soft touch shouldn’t scorch you but it does, “I’ll do whatever it takes, sweetheart. Anything to earn your trust again.” He desperately searches your face and you feel your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s so fatiguing to be so upset, “Please.” He repeats, his voice is a light choke.

You nod with a sigh, your hand clasping over his, “Okay.” You breathe, your mind clearing as your tears dry, “But I need time.” You repeat, the venom in your voice dissolving with every second you look at him.

Eddie nods in approval, a teary smile finding his face which he tries to bite back, “Time. I can work with time.”

You smile half heartedly as Eddie presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling his nose gently to your own, “Anything for you, Princess. Anything for you.”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][no penetration][oral f! and m! receiving][sixty-nine][reach-around][semi public][fwb][for those two who asked for John Constantine, our collective shitshow of a man]

"Oh, come off it." John rolls his eyes. "Drop the 'better than thou' act, luv. You're not better than me."

"Last time I checked, I don't fuck demons for favours, do I?" You argue. "So, I'm pretty sure that makes me better than you."

"Does it? You fuck me, which is worse?"

Your lips purse, and you run your tongue across your teeth. "Fair enough, Johnny."

You glance towards the foil wrapper in his hand, creased and tugged in all the wrong edges, and John's stormy blue eyes continue to glower at you as he picks at the packet.

"Just rip it op— ow!"

You hiss when the condom collides with your forehead, before dropping onto the rolls of your belly, caused by the way you're slumped so unsexily against the headboard.

"Open it y'rself. 'm gonna go smoke."

John steps towards the balcony, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter from the table beside the balcony door, moving to stand on the terrace, enjoying the sight of the city as he lights his cigarette.

The scent of nicotine and tobacco stings your nose, and you grumble under your breath as you rip open the condom packet, pulling out the latex ring and inspecting it for any holes.

God forbid you get some sort of demonic STD, or even worse, a baby.

That'd tie you right to the morbid fuck, and you'd hate that more than having to treat literal flaming herpes.

Grabbing your robe from the nearest chair, you shrug the cottony fabric over your shoulders, tying a loose bow in the front before stepping out onto the balcony to join John.

The cool air whips at any exposed skin you have, and you shudder, before moving to stand behind John, your cheek pressed to the centre of his broad back, listening to the low thump of his heartbeat.

And your hand sneaks into the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around his... Surprisingly still hard cock, and you press a kiss to the scar just above where you'd estimate his heart is.

Keyword 'estimate', because you don't even know if John has all his organs, much less if they're in the right spot.

"You mad at me?" You taunt, and his voice is a low rumble as he takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing a thick plume of smoke into the still, night air, gaze locked on flickering city lights and the twinkling stars that seem to spread out endlessly.

"Pissed." He grunts out, and you hum quietly, continuing to stroke his cock sweetly, thumbing at his slit and spreading the sticky precum all over the throbbing flesh, and your actions cause John to let out a quiet groan, his head tipping back, and his Adam's apple bobs.

"Put the condom on me, gorgeous."

John instructs quietly, shifting in your grasp and he leans back against the bannister, elbows braced on the wooden handrail, and he lifts one of his hands to take another drag of his cigarette, before flipping the cancer stick, and stubbing it out against his calloused palm.

The action is stupidly sexy, especially when he gives you that half-lidded gaze, sunken eyes and that permanent 5 o'clock shadow on his face, not doing anything to hide that perfect jawline or even softening his features.

Messy blonde tucks fall just past his hairline and you carefully inspect the condom once again, before grabbing the centre of it and tugging it forward.

And you watch that melodramatic and erotic expression on John's face fall, giving way to annoyance and frustration.

"The fuck're you doing!" He hisses, watching as you drop to your knees with the definitely ruined condom in your hand.

"It'll still work, John." You argue. "Trust me."

It works. Not really.

Not at all.

Because it's equivalent to the act of a doctor putting on surgical gloves that are just too tight, the lube and precum mixing into a sticky substance that makes the latex stick to his cock, which results in you pinching the condom and the latex shooting back against the sensitive flesh, and his shoulders twitch with each painful snap.

Its an agonizing 4 minutes and John wonders how he's even still hard until he peeks down at you, noting that creased brow, pursed lips and the most concentrated expression he's ever seen.

Oh, that's how.

"Done." You chirp and John looks down at his cock, the shaft covered in latex and his tip still feels the cool breeze.

Maybe it's because of the huge fucking hole in the condom?

"You and your fuckin' dragon claws. You ripped a hole in the condom." He groans. "The fuck's this gonna prevent?"

"You from getting chilly?" You answer with a shrug, before resting back on your haunches, kneeling in front of John as you try to peel the condom from his cock.

And it's another grueling experience.

Especially when your manicured nails keep scraping against him as you repeatedly attempt to grasp the edge and tug it off in one pull.

"Raw?" John questions, with a huff, looking down at you from beneath blonde lashes and you snort.

"I think the fuck not." You scoff. "Don't you have another condom?"

"Would I have propose goin' raw, if I had another bloody condom?" John grits out, blue eyes narrowing at you because now, he's hard and he's not jerking his own cock when your perfectly warm pussy is in the same room.

Warm, inviting. Tight.

The words float in John's mind and he nearly whines when your hand wraps around his cock, lazily pumping him as you look up at him through those fluffy, long lashes, your tongue running across that plump bottom lip he just loves to nip at when you're kissing.

"I'm clean, luv." He breathes out, his hand moving to thread through your hair in a way that's almost affectionate, blue eyes locked on your face.

"You're clean by human testing, Johnny. Doesn't mean you wouldn't have some sort of—" "Demons don't get STDs." John interjects.

"Well..." You purse your lips. "Still no. At least, now."

John respects your decision and he would admire your firmness if he wasn't achingly hard.

"Well... Then how're we gonna do this?"

—♱—

"Beautiful girl. That's it."

John feeds your cunt two fingers, easing them into your sopping walls that spasm at the intrusion, all as his tongue continues to drag between your slippery folds, before gently flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Gorgeous thing, aren't you?" He teases softly.

His forearm rests down the middle of your back, his free arm bracketing your hips and keeping you from moving away from his face.

Broad back pressed against the sheets, John gets to indulge in one of his laziest pleasures, while feeling the way your slippery palm strokes him with reverence that makes beads of precum drip from his leaky tip like a faucet.

Your knees dig into the mattress on either side of his head, your drooling cunt pressing against his mouth and he takes his time dragging his tongue over your needy pussy, feeling each twitch of the organ.

His fingers leave your drooling cavern, instead, his hands move to grip your hips and keep you firmly in place as he shifts the tiniest bit, and he sucks on your clit, enjoying the way you squeal at the sensation, attempting to pull away from him out of pure instinct but you're unable to.

Your hand readjusts it's grip on his cock, your middle finger and thumb not even touching one another as your tongue licks up the next bead of precum and you watch as his thighs tense, sinewy muscles bulging beneath his scarred skin.

Random cuts, bullet holes and wounds, the odd sigil carved into his flesh, all healed and remaining as unpleasant memories, turned into a painful tapestry on his skin that very few are allowed to see.

Not that John doesn't get around.

He's looser than the hairtie you use when you're desperate.

But he prefers to keep his clothes on, or have the room in complete darkness.

But right now, the room's not too dark, he's completely bare and the low light of the city filters into your apartment, especially with the curtains of the balcony door parted.

John always asks for the tiniest bit of light when you're together. He likes seeing you.

Even if you're the most annoying person he's ever met.

Dipping his tongue into your cunt, you whine, pushing back against John's face just as your lips wrap around his cock, taking the flushed and rosy tip into your mouth.

The bitterness of his precum rests on your tongue.

It's the kind of taste that makes you grimace, before going in for a second taste, and you suckle, sweetly and you moan around his cock when he sucks on your sensitive clit, his nose bumping against your slick slit.

And God, are you happy he broke his nose enough times to have one of those bumps.

"Johnny, 'm gonna come.." You pant out, giving John a few rough tugs before you take him back into your mouth, your tongue tracing protruding veins and your hips bucking as your grind against his tongue.

John laughs.

A low throaty sound that makes your toes curl and he groans.

"I know, luv, I know." He coos sweetly.

And everything is serene, peaceful even.

You're coaxed towards the sweetest orgasm you've ever had, when a flaming pentagram burns into your carpet and you squeal at the intrusion of a menial demon scampering off into the shadows because of course, John is a gateway.

"Mind the fuckin' teeth!"

[2neaky]

🎤 Thank U 4 The Dono! 💿 P.2

12k words! 𝑹𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝑶𝒏𝒚! ♡ 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝑶𝑪! | 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 -> 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: size k*nk, or*al (m recieving), p in v s*x (use of a condom), tricking/“paying for p*ssy,” power-imbalance (financial), dr*g use (w*ed), heavy drinking, drunk s*x, morally grey ethics concerning modern-day s*x work and “buying” one’s consent, basically pr*stitution, objectification, egotistical Onyankopon, body mods (n*pple piercings), specific descriptions of body types, use of n-word (characters & writer are Black), roughly edited

Part 1

Finally, the last part! Warning, this fic isn’t the most ethically sound and I, as the writer, can recognize that. I don’t necessarily condone all concepts portrayed in this fic, but it’s just for the plot. Sometimes, I like morally grey shit. If you unable to separate this fictional story from real life, I advise against reading this. Enjoy & reblog! <3

“Right this way! Please follow the signs!”

Standing in a dimly lit corridor, the attendant is dressed in a prim suit as they shout directions to the attendees. 

Echoes of sound check bounce off of the walls of the large stadium. At times, there are minutes of silence before they’re interjected by brief clips of music or even someone speaking into the mic.

This place is massive, built to house thousands of screaming fans at a time.

All of it piques Bliss’s interest as she’s guided along by security. Some part of her wishes she could stay and watch the onstage preparation up close.

However, she forgets about all of that as she travels up a steep flight of stairs, away from the stadium’s general seating. 

Tiny lights, embedded along the sides of each step, light the way through the dark staircase. Kitten heels click softly as she slowly climbs, in line behind another guest. She neglects to hold the railing, preferring instead to latch onto her phone. 

Her other hand grips the wooden baton handles of her newest purchase: a Goyard Saïgon mini bag. 

Truthfully, it was an impulsive purchase made with just a fraction of the money she received from her Halloween Stream—and, speaking of, her bank account has never been healthier. 

That stream has upped the quality of her life, undoubtedly. Not that she wasn’t living comfortably before, but her world has been opened to new experiences. 

For instance, premium seating at a concert of her favorite artist. She’s in a space where she can afford this experience probably three times over. Yet, she didn’t even have to spend a dime to get it.

She can hardly contain a tiny grin with the flash of a memory—a conversation between her and Onyankopon over messages. Just a casual discussion, going in-depth about this entire arrangement.

Anyway, as the little quirk disappears from her face, a burst of light washes over her. She’s finally reached the top of that long staircase. Just a few feet away is the enclosed balcony, cased off behind glass so clean that she’s sure she would’ve walked right into it.

A “Luxury Box” is what they called it—an exclusive lounge, secluded to a balcony room above the stage. There’s a different attendant at its door, greeting each guest as they enter. 

“Good evening, enjoy the show,” the young woman greets with a pleasant smile and gentle nod.

Bliss can’t help but to show teeth, the apples of her cheeks even aching. “Hi, thank you.”

As she spills into the room with the other guests, her eyes are everywhere. The Luxury Box is spacious, considering that there are about thirty people here.

Her first observation is that this place is comfortable. Cushioned chairs positioned before a large glass—it’s the perfect seating arrangement with an excellent view of the stage from its left. 

The floor below the seats is glass, too. The sight gives way to a sea of empty chairs, hundreds of feet below. Soon, they’ll be filled with excited fans.

To the right of the viewing area is the bar, decked out in expensive, unopened bottles. There’s already a bartender behind the counter, wiping down the dark marble. 

And by the looks of it, they’re fully stocked: wine, champagne, beer, juice, water—anything a patron could desire. 

That’ll be the first spot she hits up.

On the room’s opposite side is an array of food spread out amongst a long, cloth-covered table. From hors d'oeuvres to dessert, they have everything. Behind the table, caterers attend to the food, ensuring its presentation is on point.

She needs no more convincing. Whipping out her phone, Bliss is quick to record the sights surrounding her. She slowly pans the camera, trying to catch everything in the video.

She hadn’t known what to expect before coming, however, Bliss had to give herself props. She managed to dress perfectly for the occasion, blending seamlessly with the lounge’s modern chic decor.

Jean Paul Gaultier hugs her body tonight as a black maxi dress with small grey dots that outline the feminine shape. The dramatic curves and slopes of her body stretch it out in a way that elevates the dress. 

No doubt, it’s a wonderful look. However, it’s also a rather sheer piece, as its material is comprised of a thin, but tiny netting. Several times throughout her journey here, she’s had to pull her bundles to the front, having them fall over her chest.

It’s her fault she hadn’t tried on the dress before packing it, she realizes. If she had, she would’ve known to buy some pasties beforehand.

Peering around the room one more time, Bliss seems to recognize a few faces—well known influencers, and even a couple of celebrities.

Be calm, she reminds herself. She’s blended in so far. 

A nervous tick, she glances at the time on her phone. She exhales with the realization that it’s only about an hour and a half more before the show is scheduled to start.

She’s closer to seeing Onyankopon live. Closer to meeting him in person for the first time. The thought has her queasy and excited all at once. She presses a manicured hand to her stomach.

God, she wishes she knew someone here, just so that they may distract her from the “what-if’s” and “maybe’s” running through her mind.

But, really? Who needs friends when there’s a bar just a few feet away? 

Especially when there’s a cute ass nigga behind it?

She just found her newest distraction to take the edge off of things.

•

The stadium’s lights have lowered to pitch-black, darkness, allowing the stage’s to shine. Shades of purple bleeding into white beam brightly. 

The DJ, propped farther back on the large stage, plays tracks that only hype up the audience.

Below the balcony, through the glass flooring, Bliss watches fans flood the stadium. They almost perfectly resemble waves of the sea. Even their cheers can be heard from up here.

As it gets closer to that time, they grow louder. They almost compete with the music.

Nursing her second drink of the night (if she doesn’t count the shot she has in between this and her first), Bliss sits plum in her seat. There’s a pleasant buzz running throughout her, and obviously it’s the liquor.

Just a little bit tipsy, more and more things seem to catch her attention as her body and mind ease up. So many distractions around her, she almost didn’t realize that someone’s come onstage if it weren’t for the screams of the fans beneath them: the show’s opener—Connie Springer.

She makes a quiet gasp around her straw, eyes wide as she leans forward in her chair. 

Bliss has a couple of his songs in her rap playlist. He’s not nearly played as much as Onyankopon is in her household. Still though, the support is there.

She actually found Connie through him. Seeing as they’re closely affiliated and under the same label, his music was recommended after Ony’s. 

Even in a couple of Ony’s Instagram posts, she can spot the other man in the background. She must admit, the rapper keeps a couple of fine ass niggas around him—hence why she follows Connie, too. 

She only hopes Ony doesn’t look too deeply into that.

But, coming back to reality, Bliss can see why Ony had picked the man to be his opener. 

He’s getting the crowd hype, and they’re rapping the lyrics right along with him. By the time his set ends—an unforgettable forty minutes—the audience is even livelier than before.

It’s astounding, really. She didn’t think they could get any louder. And the energy is coming off of the crowd in waves. She can’t be the only one in the lounge affected by it, her skin covered in goosebumps.

“I appreciate y’all tonight!”

The crowd cheers after Connie. His image is blown up on the Jumbotrons, giving every onlooker a view of his gemmed smile.

“I know y’all loud for me, but I’ma need y’all to be even louder for my brother, Onyankopon!”

Deafening shrieks fill the stadium. And Bliss is sure that if she were on the ground, her eardrums would’ve been ruptured.

Even the other guests in the lounge cheer loudly. And she’s thankful, knowing that she won’t have to hide her excitement when the time comes.

As Connie leaves the stage, the crowd chants: “Ony! Ony! Ony!”

With the stage now empty, its lights dim and the music almost completely fades. For a moment, everything seems to still.

The fans grow quieter—even if it’s just by a fraction. But, it’s safe to say that everyone in the stadium is watching the stage closely with bated breath. Waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Then, music strikes with volume that reignites the crowd. 

Almost everyone around her shows their enthusiasm, tempting her to do the same. So, Bliss cups a hand near her mouth, letting out a resounding “wooh” from her seat. 

“ATL, you ready?”

The voice, deep and amplified by the mic, sends a chill through her. For about ten seconds, the music is completely drowned out by the fans’ screams.

Her eyes scour the stage, not finding a single soul on it. It’s still dark, too.

Then, there’s another sound: a low chuckle. 

Her stomach drops. She never thought she’d be so attracted to the sound of someone’s laughter. She’s sure that there are at least a thousand other fans that are sharing the very same experience. She can’t be the only one.

“Nah, I’on think y’all heard me—“

Purple streaks of light shoot down onto the stage. Flames, rigged at the perimeters of the platform, burst out as the man of the hour runs out onto the stage. 

Any music is drowned out by the fans.

The stage’s backdrop illuminates the entire platform as a spinning graphic of the letter “O,” wrapped in barbed wire, displays on the screen.

“Y’all niggas ready?” 

She finally sees him as his image is blown up on the Jumbotrons. It’s not the clearest resolution, but she can tell just how fine he is.

Mic held to his lips, the lower half of his face is hidden. A baggy, black zip up covers his upper half. He’s even got his hoodie up, sadly, obscuring the rest of his face. 

But, as she stares at his image, she notices the flashes of light catching on the cloth. Squinting just a little, she catches sight of the tiny crystals dotting the dark fabric.

As Onyankopon moves about, he glitters underneath the stage lights. Tiny, rain-bowed streaks of light are caught by the cameras, projecting his image.

But that isn’t the only thing on him that shines. Coming around his neck and resting on his chest, is a tangle of thick, heavy looking chains.

His microphone picks up every clank they make. They don’t even need light to shine, his diamonds still dance in the dark. It’s almost blinding.

Large, baggy black cargoes cover his strong legs. However, it’s only the base for the shiny, silver and purple, jeweled buckles strapped all down the length of the fabric.

“Y’all turnt up in here, tonight!”

There’s a slight breathlessness to his voice, and it makes her body clench. If she could bottle up the sound and keep it to herself, she would.

Or is that the liquor talking?

As Onyankopon pulls the purple mic away from his face, a camera picks up on him. The closeup of his face is blown up all over the Jumbotrons.

As the crowd cries out for him, he shows them a perfect smile. His bottom row of teeth covered in VVS diamond lined, opal grillz. 

It’s almost too much, the sight threatening to turn Bliss into a puddle right in her seat.

He lifts the mic to his mouth again, just as laughter tumbles out past his lips. “Y’all right up there with Chicago! Think you could do better than ‘em tonight?”

Fans are going ballistic, jumping and cheering even louder. They begin to chant again, repeating his name over and over.

All of these people, screaming his name, are here to see him. She can’t fathom how he does it.

But watching him, seeing how his smile stretches wider and the apples of his cheeks swell, she sees that he’s in his element.

“Yeah … y’all niggas some real competition!”

More screams. She almost wishes she was amongst the crowd, free to go as crazy as the other fans.

“Do me a favor: keep this energy the whole night! Nothing less—only up from here!”

Those were his last words as the beat to one of his songs begins, and the stadium dissolves into madness. The heavy base punches through every body filling it. 

Bliss can feel it in her chest. Even the luxury box’s glass has the faintest tremor to it.

Ony runs down the middle of the stage, where it stretches out into the crowd. Mic to mouth, he’s on it, rapping over the track with passion.

A nasty mug contorts his face as he performs, clearly feeling the lyrics. And the fans are rapping right along with him. 

One in particular, a young, scrawny man with big glasses, is caught on camera. His body is pressed to the metal barrier, he’s leaning over, gazing up at the rapper as his mouth moves along to every word.

Stepping closer to the area, Ony points a gloved hand at the young fan, making sure everyone—even the cameras—are paying him close attention.

Bliss’s heart swells at the sight of the endearing moment.

Running back to the main stage’s middle, Ony jumps up and down with the song’s beat. The pyrotechnics go off once again as the song’s hook comes up.

The energy consuming this stadium is too powerful to ignore. Bliss loses herself to it. After the first two songs, she can’t even find it in herself to care how crazy she looks—losing herself to the energy of the performance.

Halfway through the show, Onyankopon loses his hoodie. 

She remembers it so clearly, when he had unzipped it. The dark fabric parted and gave way to shiny, deep brown abs, littered with tattoos of all sizes.

Her fingers itched to run down the rigid surface of abs. 

Free from the heavy material, his head is fully visible. His typical inky black waves are sheathed by an equally black, velvet durag. And she’s almost 100% sure that it’s real velvet—none of that suede shit.

What catches her eyes the most is his nickname, “Ony,” spelled with beaded gems in Old English font on the back of the fabric.

One of the cameras, currently projecting his image onto the Jumbotrons, shows the audience the glistening skin of his back as he walks back to the main stage. His tattoos only continue to bleed into the expanse of the dark skin. Strong muscles ripple beneath the smooth skin.

She pulls out her phone, recording yet another clip of the shirtless man as he performs on the stage below. Without a second thought, she posts it to her Instagram story.

He just looked too fucking good for her not to capture. Without a doubt, Onyankopon is putting on a show. 

Bliss can die happy right now…

Except, she can’t. 

Not when the starting melody of her favorite song, catches her ears. She gasps, freezing in her seat.

At the center of the stage, Ony’s pacing slows to a stop. He stares out at the jumping crowd, a smile slowly climbing onto his face. The crowd is in a frenzy.

“What y’all know ‘bout this one?”

They roar louder as he continues to search the stadium, not looking for anyone in particular. Not yet.

“Wasn’t even gon’ perform this one, I ain’t gon’ hold you,” he chuckles.

He begins to pace again, thinking with amusement of just how much shit he makes his DJ put up with—what with him prolonging this track just to speak to the fans.

Bringing the mic to his lips, Onyankopon finally looks up at the large luxury box to the left of the stage.

“But, I know you like it.” 

A camera catches a closeup of him just as he shoots a quick wink. It’s all over the Jumbotrons, and the crowd goes wild. 

As the song finally begins, Bliss’ body catches a chill. She has no choice but to get up for this one, it is her favorite song after all. 

It’s definitely a turn up song, and she does just that. Rapping along, she earns the attention of others around her. So entranced by the music, she doesn’t even realize how they begin to hype her up. And she doesn’t miss a word.

Without a thought, Bliss kicks off her short heels. Holding onto the back of her chair, she bends over and throws her ass in a circle. 

Hoots and hollers from a few of the women around her goad her on, she sticks her tongue out. One or two of them even give her a couple of taps.

There’s lights shining on her, and she’ll have to remember to ask them for the videos. The dress is doing absolutely nothing to constrict the way her body moves, despite how tight it is.

Standing up straight, she does a full body whine, mouthing her favorite part of the song. Without a doubt, this is a highlight of her concert experience.

Sadly, just as quickly as the song had started, it ends. But, Bliss is only smiling, laughing too hard with the other guests.

Now she can die happy.

•

Three hours of performing—it was a dream to witness. And to think, that after all of that, she’s going to meet the artist.

How this can possibly go, she’s can’t imagine. Well—realistically, it can go one of two ways. 

He flew her out for tonight’s show, put her up in one of the best hotels in the city, and even assigned a personal driver to her for the time being that she was here—a big bodied, black truck, of course.

So, there’s only one thing he wants. Bliss knew that coming into this. And she agreed, didn’t she?

The attendants assigned to this luxury box had made the announcement minutes ago to follow the signage for a swift exit, seeing as the show’s over.

Of course, there were a few stragglers—her included. Head buried in her phone, she swipes through the videos she was able to get from the other guests of her “mini performance.”

She’ll definitely have to post these later.

With a ring-dressed middle finger, she’s trimming one of the videos, far too focused to notice the two men approaching her.

“Ms. Bliss?”

Blinking, her head shoots up as her inky black inches fall over her face. She pushes the strands out of the way.

“Yes?”

“Onyankopon’s ready for you.”

Her face blanks as she looks back and forth between the two. Her tongue fumbles in her mouth. So, she remains wordless as she nods.

Coming to her feet, she pulls down her dress and smooths out any wrinkles. Swiping up her mini Saïgon, she follows after the men as they take her to the performer.

•

“Another city finished,” Connie smirks, dapping him up.

Slumped in a chair of his own, Ony laughs. “Yeah, and I’m ‘bout tired as Hell.”

Connie plops down on the futon pushed against the wall of Ony’s dressing room—just a few feet across from the man himself.

“You definitely gonna crash after this,” he laughs, pulling out one of his phones from his pants pocket.

“Nah,” Ony shakes his head. Licking his bottom lip, he tries to conceal a smile as Connie glances at him. “Actually … I got shit to do after.”

Raising a brow, Connie looks at him fully this time. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They both share a knowing look, which only makes this all the more funnier.

“How you meet her?”

Glancing away, Ony bats him off as he sucks his teeth. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Nah, it better not be ole’ girl—“

“Chill,” Ony quickly looks his way. “Told you I was done with that. This a new vibe. Trust.”

Connie looks him up and down, ultimately deciding to trust his friend. “Alright…”

“Yeah, and speaking of—you gotta get the fuck up outta here.”

Connie makes a face. The question “why” is on the tip of his tongue, ready to fall from his lips, when a knock sounds at the door.

“Shit,” Ony mumbles, slowly getting up on sore feet.

Connie chooses to laugh this time. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, twisting the doorknob just before pulling it open.

“Ony,” Mitch, one of the security guards on his team greets.

“Wassup, man,” he nods.

Quietly, Mitch shifts to the side to allow him to see the short woman behind him: Bliss.

Ony’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. Like he’s just been served the tastiest looking platter in the world; The finest piece of steak from STK Steakhouse.

“Hey.” The corner of his lips upturn.

“Hi.” Bliss had seemed to breathe the word out.

Without thinking, Ony outstretches an arm to pull her in for a side hug. 

“‘Preciate it, y’all,” he says to the guards. 

The two men turn away, returning to their stations at the end of the hallway. 

Ony opens the door wider, allowing Bliss to slip past him and into the comfortably sized room. As she makes her way past him, he doesn’t stop his eyes from falling below her waist to check out her body.

Her ass moves like water in that dress. And the perfume wafting off of her, mingled with her body’s natural scent, is rich and warm. Luxurious, even. An expensive one for sure.

“Hey,” Bliss waves shyly, meeting Connie’s eyes.

The man with the bleached, shaved head makes a strong effort to keep eye contact. And if Onyankopon weren’t watching him closely from behind her, he would’ve broken it. If only to admire how her body stretches the fabric out—and how terribly it hides her nipples. 

“Wassup, how you doing?” Connie smiles kindly. Standing up, he pockets his phone while outstretching a hand to her.

Politely, Bliss gives him a gentle shake before letting her hand fall back to the wooden handle of her purse.

“Ony,” Connie moves over to the man, dapping him up.

“We talk soon,” he nods.

As soon as the door shuts, with Connie’s departure, it’s like all of the air in the room has been sucked out.

Slowly, Bliss turns to face him. He’s already staring her down.

“It’s good seeing you in person.”

His voice is low, but soft. 

Her body is covered in goosebumps within seconds. She gives a shaky smile, showing off that cute gap between her two front teeth.

“You, too,” she says.

“You nervous?” He smiles as he heads over to the room’s large vanity.

It allows her the space needed to breathe as she watches him retie the loosened strings of his durag.

“I am,” she giggles, wanting to cover her mouth. “The show was really good, though. I had fun.”

“I’m glad.” He turns back around, leaning against the vanity to stare at her. “Hope you appreciated the song.”

Her smile only grows. “I did, thank you. You don’t even know, I was dancing and everything.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises his brows, watching her beam.

“Yes, it’s my favorite!” She remembers telling him in their DMs that it was her favorite song of his.

However, that definitely isn’t how he learned that fact.

Almost bowing her head, Bliss looks up at him through her thick lash set. “Thank you for performing it.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He looks her up and down. 

He might be exhausted, but he can definitely squeeze out one more performance for the night. 

After all, his body is still running off of the adrenaline from the show.

“How was everything? The hotel good?”

She perks up at that. “Hm? Oh—yes!” She nods. 

He thinks it’s cute.

“The hotel is very nice, and thanks for the driver.”

“Anything to make you comfortable.” He licks his lips. His eyes flick down for half of a second, catching a peak of her pierced nipples through the dress.

Of course, she notices.

“I’ma ride with you back to the hotel, take a quick shower, then we out for dinner. That’s cool with you?”

Her matte lips roll into her mouth and she nods. It’s a weak attempt at hiding an excited smile. They discussed this before—spending the night out together. Yet, Bliss still finds herself unable to really believe it.

His well-groomed brows lift just an inch. “That’s not a answer.” 

She breaks into laughter, feeling silly. “Yes, Ony.”

“Aight. Lemme grab my shit and we could leave together.”

She nods, heading over to the vanity on her own accord as Ony moves about to gather his items. 

As he packs his black, Margiela backpack, she tweaks her appearance in the brightly lit mirror. Smoothing down flyaways, fixing her lip combo—she does it all.

Being the great multitasker he is, Onyakopon sneaks glances at her from behind.

This view is everything: The only thing “covering” her ass in that dress is a tiny, black G-string that disappears between the globes of her cheeks anyway. Her honey-brown skin is dimpled but mark-free. And her narrow waist tempts him to grab it from behind.

If tonight goes as planned, backshots are definitely going to be on the agenda. Now, he’ll eventually flip her over on her back, because that face and those titties are too pretty for that position alone. 

The mental imagine is enough to make his dick twitch. If he didn’t have any sense, he’d fuck her raw. Just to make her feel every inch and vein, and for him to feel the wet heat of her walls. 

But before he gets too carried away with his own thoughts, Onyankopon blinks them away. Slipping into his jacket, he throws his backpack over a shoulder. 

“Aight, let’s go.”

Nodding, Bliss returns to his side. Ony is quick to hold out a hand, which she takes.

“When we leave, it might be some fans and paps outside. I can’t control that, I’m sorry. But, I got my people with us, so you should be good.”

Bliss nods, only able to quietly take it all in. She’s never been in the spotlight before. She only hopes that they aren’t too crazy.

“Oh, wait—“ 

Quickly, she drops his hand to search through her purse. A couple of seconds later, she’s pulling out a pair of designer shades. They’re huge with blacked out lenses, perfect for hiding her face.

Ony laughs. “You got it.”

•

As they’re just a few feet from the exit, body guards at all of their sides, Bliss anticipates Ony dropping her hand, just to keep anymore rumors at bay. 

However, as they pass through the threshold of the stadium and the cool, outside air hits them, her hand is still heavy with his.

“Ony!”

“Onyankopon, look this way!”

“Who’s this that you brought out tonight?”

“Is that your girlfriend, Ony?”

Using her purse, Bliss blocks the other side of her face, hoping the cameras don’t catch anything. Her lips tremble as she tries to keep from laughing at the obscene and invasive questions.

Their driver plucks the back door of their car open—a Rolls Royce. Ony lets go of her hand to let her in first. 

Just as he climbs in, the driver shuts the door behind them. The second his security backs away from the car, paparazzi and a few fans close-in on the vehicle, trying to snap pictures through the tinted windows.

“Wow,” Bliss laughs, breathlessly. She pulls the large shades off of her face, allowing him to seeing her beautiful face.

“My bad ‘bout that. Should’ve prepared you more.”

“It was actually tamer than I thought,” she smiles.

“Shit, my bad. Ain’t know you had it like that.” 

She only laughs at his joke, and he can only think about how much he likes the sound.

As the driver pulls off, heading towards Onyankopon’s hotel, Bliss opens up her camera. She records a couple of clips here and there of herself in the car, careful to keep Ony out of it.

It’s cute, he thinks, how she doesn’t try to take advantage of such a moment. Even more, it allows him to worry less about putting a guard up; He pulls out his phone.

On Twitter and TikTok, he catches posts of his concert, liking and reposting his favorite ones. All of the love from his fans makes his chest swell with pride.

ATL definitely showed out tonight. A contender with Chicago, for sure.

Shutting his phone off, Ony drops it into his lap and leans back in his seat. His gaze is attracted to the woman beside him.  

In the low lighting, she’s gorgeous. As the driver narrowly avoids the greater part of a pothole in the street, the car is unstable for a second or two.

In that time, his eyes fall to her chest, seeing how it bounces even under the confines of her dress.

It triggers multiple images in his brain—memories of her past streams.

Finally shutting off her phone, Bliss does a quiet sigh as she pushes her hair over one shoulder, exposing more of her upper half. 

Blinking, she finally takes a look at him, and they make eye contact. Off of instinct, she laughs nervously.

“Hi.”

He smiles, showing off his grills. “Hey.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head lazily. So oblivious to just how impatient he is for her.

A date with Onyankopon.

She, Bliss, is on a date with The Onyankopon. Never did she think that would be her reality.

Before they arrived, he did just as promised—stopping by his hotel to get ready. He had her stay in the car, yet he definitely didn’t make her wait too long.

When he got back into the car, keeping his backpack at his feet, he smelled heavenly. His cologne was arousing—something about a good smelling man really just does it for her.

His outfit seemed to match the vibe she had went for: a brown Miu Miu leather and sheepskin jacket with snakeskin and flowers over the shoulders. His pants are a basic black, baggy fit jean with chains dangling from a pocket. His jewelry, of course, is silver.

And without a durag, his shiny waves were out for all to see.

There’s no doubt, he’d chosen the fanciest restaurant out here. It was a two-level establishment, and they have the entire second floor to themselves.

Just three of Ony’s security personnel guard the entrance and exit to the staircase. It’s quiet up here, yet peaceful. However, Bliss feels quite awkward, as all of the attention is on her.

They had gotten through appetizers before the real conversation began. Well, really Ony had gone through it. After a show like that, it’s no wonder that he’s worked up an appetite. 

Bliss picked at the food here and there, careful not to get full too fast. She also is still nervous.

“What you do earlier today? Before my show.”

Swallowing her sip of the mixed drink she had ordered, Bliss presses a hand to her chest.

“Just some shopping. This is my first time in Atlanta, so I wanted to take advantage of the malls.” She laughs quietly. “I hope your driver didn’t mind.”

Rubbing at his chin hairs, he glances at her purse set off to the side of the table. It’s crisp and the color is well saturated. There’s not an inch of the bag frayed or faded.

“You got this today?”

She follows his gaze. “Yeah,” she says nervously.

He hums. “How much you pay for it?”

She shrugs. “About 6k.”

He smirks to himself, still eyeing the bag. “That’s light … you want it in cash?”

Her eyes almost bulge out of her head. “What? I don’t—“

“If you don’t take the cash, I’ma find a way to get it to you. So quit all’at stuttering, humble shit.”

His voice is calm, quiet too. Which only astounds her, because there’s nothing calm about someone offering her six grand.

But, she’s not slick. Even as her mouth hangs open, he spots the hint of a smile on her stretched lips.

“It’s … I don’t need it, Ony.”

“Shit, I know.” Huffing out a breath of amusement, he smirks down at her. “But you want it, so just take it.”

She looks off to the side, her hair falling in her face before she pushes it over her shoulder for the umpteenth time tonight.

“Y’know, I knew ‘bout you for a minute.”

That stops her in her tracks. 

Her Instagram profile is that of the typical IG model—sponsorships, the occasional risky photo, but overall, pretty moderate.

How long had he known about her page? Was he stalking her profile like she’d done his? Why only now say something?

Her heart races. All of these questions she wants to ask—she opens her mouth to do so.

“Yeah, you cute on ‘em live streams.” He continues rubbing at his chin, still eyeing her.

And as those words left his mouth, her own closes.

Her career as a cam-girl isn’t in the spotlight. It’s no well-kept secret, nor is her page really even hard to find. Still, it’s always jarring when she has to come face-to-face with that in reality.

“W-what?“

Her voice is quiet. The shock on her face is quite apparent, too.

“I catch ‘em when I can.” He sits back in his chair and shrugs.

She knows it’s greedy, but if that’s how she gets her money, then so be it: her streams are only accessible to those subbed to her highest tier on her cam-girl page.

“Oh … my God,” she whispers, putting a hand over her mouth. 

He cracks a smile, a small chuckle falling out past his lips. 

“How long did you—“ She stops herself, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Couple months,” he says, like it’s no big deal. 

Her stomach drops to her ass. And as a new thought emerges in her head, her stomach threatens to fall out of her body.

“What’s your username?”

She almost didn’t even want to ask. Onyankopon can only laugh.

“C’mon, now. Y’know who I am.”

She fears she does. He doesn’t need to say it:

onLyONE1

Falling back in her chair, Bliss covers her face as she groans into her hands.

“Shit was obvious, too—“

“Stop, please!” She laughs, shyly. Pulling her hands away from her face, she reveals a soft pout on her lips. “I can’t believe you saw that,” she whines.

Is it crazy that his eyes seem to sparkle as he smiles? “What? Your body?”

“No! Well—kinda. I mean me crushing over you!”

Now, he’s practically cackling. And Bliss’ face burns with embarrassment.

Calming himself down, Ony sighs. “Relax, I thought it was cute.”

She gives him a weak glance, immediately looking away. 

“I can’t believe this.” She groans. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shakes his head. “That’s federal. I wasn’t even gon’ say nothing, ‘til I found out you was a fan—“

“Ugh,” she looks away, a scowl on her lips. “Don’t do that.”

“You right, my fault,” he chuckles. “A supporter,” he corrects.

“Thank you.”

He hums. “But, that shit was sexy, though.” He shrugs. “So, I had to fly you out here, see you in person.”

When she regains the courage to look him in the eyes, she feels small in her seat. His eye contact is unwavering.

“And get you all to myself.” He scoffs as he runs his eyes over her upper body. “Couldn’t stand you paying attention to all them broke ass niggas.”

His lips frown with thinly veiled disgust. It almost makes her laugh. On the other hand, the statement as a whole makes her tummy flutter.

She hates to admit it, but a possessive man will always be her weakness.

“I’ll double what I gave you, just to get you for tonight.”

“I … Ony…“ 

The offer is tempting, real tempting. But, can she really do this? The whole 'pay-for-pussy' thing?

He senses her apprehension. Wordlessly, he reaches down by his foot.

The low whine of a zipper catches her ears. Before she can question it, three, fat stacks of rubber-banded hundreds are dropped onto the table. Right before her widened eyes.

He pockets his hands, leaning back in his chair once more. “I matched you for the bag, too.” He nods to the stack.

She’s breathless. All of this money, it’s making her head spin. “O-Ony—“

Her resolve is cracking, he can tell. And this has got to be his favorite part about having money—the power it gives him. He widens his legs underneath the table, feeling himself grow stiff already.

“I’ma selfish ass nigga. I know that. And if I see something I want, I’ma get it. All I really need is one night … but, if you fucking with me, I’ll keep you put up.”

Her brain attempts to formulate a coherent thought, yet nothing comes up. This sounds too good to be true.

But, her mind can’t deny what’s in front of her. And, the idea of him spending so much just to have her—even for a night—only gets her wetter by the second.

He stares at her, patiently awaiting an answer he already knows he’ll get.

But, just to get it out of her faster, he turns up the heat: reaching back into his bag, Onyankopon pulls out another fat stack, placing it on top of the others.

Like magic, Bliss finds her mouth moving before she can even really think twice about it.

She’s giggly off the drinks, but she isn’t the only one. As Onyankopon continues ordering more and more alcohol to the table, she can see that he, too, is loosening up.

He’s talking more, a tad bit more touchy, and even bolder in his flirtatiousness.

She likes it.

Another thing about her and alcohol; She gets talkative. Part of her brain is screaming at her to put a sock in it, judging by Ony’s demeanor:

He’s sat back with an arm thrown over the back of the chair, slowly chewing as he stares at her with low eyes. In his hand, his fingers slowly twist a balled up napkin.

But, she just can’t stop talking. Her mouth is running a mile a minute—she doesn’t even remember what she’s talking about. 

However, all of her spouting comes to a stop when Ony finally sits up. Looking elsewhere, he throws the napkin down on the table.

Her eyes dart around. “What happened?”

Pulling out a crisp, black card from his wallet, he snaps it down on the cloth-table. “Ready to go.”

“Oh…”

Oh shit.

It takes almost no time at all for the waiter to take Ony’s card. In the blink of an eye, they’re standing on their feet, ready to leave.

“Don’t forget your cash.”

For a split second, Bliss is confused. But, when she follows the direction of where he points to, she’s quickly reminded.

Those large stacks of cash he’d pulled out for her earlier were sitting so casually to the side of the table, next to her purse. Like it wasn’t money itself. And a lot of it.

She slips her purse over her wrist before scooping them up in her arms.

“Yeah, there you go,” Ony nods, smiling at her.

They follow his security team to the elevator. All the while, he’s got an arm thrown over her slender shoulders.

Only two of his staff follow them into the moderately sized shaft. As the two, burly men stand in front of them, hands clasped before them in similar fashion, Ony’s arm remains around her neck, keeping her back pressed against his front.

And, boy, does it make her dizzy. Not only that, but her body buzzes with a renewed sense of energy. 

Everything about him, physically, is all encompassing. His cologne is so strong that it’s all she smells. The weight of his body isn’t stifling, but grounding. Even keeping her warm. 

And as her body practically melts into his, the fat of her ass is smushed against his front. 

The press of his print, which happens to lie perfectly between both cheeks, is impossible to ignore. She won’t even bother shifting around to get comfortable. Instead, she succumbs to his hold—too easily—and releases a shaky sigh.

Turns out her guess was right, he is big.

When they step out of the restaurant, yet again do they have to shield their faces from the barrage of cameras and flashes surrounding them.

This time, they run to the car, hopping in as silly laughter pours from them. God, they’re so drunk.

“C’mere … so fuckin’ far.” Ony seems to breathe out the words.

Even in the darkness, the look of lust is written all over him. It’s even swimming around in the air. Her eyes do a full sweep of his body, noting how wide his thick legs are spread. 

Like a minx, she slinks over from her seat and right onto the one he presents to her. 

“Mmh,” he hums, immediately snaking his arms around her small waist and dragging her up higher into his lap. 

She giggles, feeling all of him beneath her.

“You smell good.” He mumbles the words into the warm skin of her neck.

Bliss bends her head down and even sweeps all of her hair over the other shoulder to give him more access to her.

The kisses he lays there are hot and wet, pressed into her warm and soft skin. She shivers. One of his hands press into her lower stomach, keeping her from moving too much.

The pulse between her legs has grown into an ache. Every clench her pussy does is almost painful with how strong it is, even worse now that he’s hard beneath her.

God, why did she pick such a long dress? 

Without thinking, she grounds down onto him, weakly. Onyankopon’s other hand travels upwards the middle of her abdomen. 

She doesn’t focus on his lingering touch. She can’t. Not when he’s sucking a pretty bruise into the side of her neck. Her breathing quickens, and slow, tiny pants leave through her parted lips.

His traveling hand slides up between the valley of her boobs and anchors around her neck just as he lifts his mouth off of her. She bites down on her bottom lip, yet another giggle slips through her teeth.

“Thin-ass dress.” He tightens his grip around her neck. “Might as well have not worn anything.”

His deep voice and his rough hand has her pussy leaking into her panties. He lifts his hips by a fraction, and it pushes a small moan from her.

“Freaky ass lil’ bitch. Got ya titties all out—who’s it for?”

Her eyes flutter shut and she swallows thickly. 

He squeezes another moan out of her. “Hm?”

“Y-you.”

He chuckles. “Got my dick all hard, starin’ at ‘em.”

His hand finally moves, and the skin on her neck is cold. She misses it. But, that’s forgotten when both of his hands cup her heavy breasts.

Bliss arches her back, pushing them further into his warm hands. And, never one to refuse a gift, Ony squeezes them. 

Her body is weak as he plays with them, damn-near juggling them in his hands. And as he laughs, clearly amused by her body’s reaction, she can only try to keep her moans at bay.

“So pretty,” he mumbles before pressing a a kiss to the side of her face. “Pretty ass titties.”

His hands still, only cupping them. Then, his thumbs begin slow circles her pierced nipples through the dress’s thin fabric. Its tiny netting does nothing to shield her body against the gentle caress.

She turns her head to the side, her mouth open and desperate for something to plug it before an embarrassingly loud moan leaves it.

And like her knight in shining armor, Onyankopon indulges her in an open-mouth kiss. He wastes no time, sucking on her tongue.

Around her piercings, his fingers pinch and pull at her nipples. Bliss can’t help it, moaning into his mouth. Her hips rock against his, desperate to finally get on his dick.

When he finally pulls back, they can both breathe. And it’s the first time that they notice music playing through the car’s speakers. 

“Mmh, fuck,” he sighs. Ony sits back in his seat. 

Breathlessly, Bliss fixes her hair, trying to distract herself from the way her body was lit on fire from just kisses and fondling.

Ony looks around the back cavern of the car, quickly finding just what he was looking for: his bottle of Don. It’s stuffed in the side pocket of the car door, calling out for him.

Securing an arm around her waist, Ony leans forward to pick it up out of the car door’s side pocket. When he’s sits back, he pulls the top off the bottle and wastes no time taking a sip.

Busying herself, Bliss grabs her phone from its spot in the cupholder. She opens up Instagram and holds her phone up to snap a couple of clips of herself.

The near darkness of the vehicle is perfect, showing not too much nor too little for the camera to see. And every last clip stays in her drafts.

Still, she’s careful not to get Ony’s face in it, only doing close ups of her face as the music plays.

When Onyankopon finally pulls the bottle away from his face, he sees what she’s doing.

As she records another clip, she zooms in on her body, caressing herself and even showing off her pierced nipples through the dress.

A quick thought puts a smirk on his face. He interrupts, bringing his hand into frame as he squeezes one of her boobs. The ring on his pinky finger glistens under the cameras low flash.

With a surprised gasp, she cuts the clip short.

“Keep recordin’,” he says in her ear, gruffly.

“Why?” She chuckles. “You wanna be seen?”

He scoffs quietly. “That’s cute.” Shifting his hips, he pushes his dick harder against her, just for a bit of spite. “This just for you, though. Don’t post nothing.”

His nose and lips to her neck, his voice in her ear, his hands on her body—she shivers.

Pressing record again. She zooms in on his hand as it gropes her yet again. Very soon after, it slides up and wraps around her neck. She stops the video.

With a giggle, she saves it to her drafts. “Should I send it to you?” She questions, tapping away on her phone.

“Nah, keep that,” he mumbles. Turning his head, Onyankopon peers out of the window, watching the city zoom past them. “Got some other shit planned.”

Thankfully, there’s no paps around. No need for them to rush into the hotel or hide their faces.

As they take their time to get out of the vehicle, Ony’s security surrounds the car.

“Wait—the money,” Bliss worries. 

She’s halfway out of the car, a hand in Ony’s clutch as he’s the one helping her out.

“Don’t trip, I’ma have my people get it for you.” 

As her feet land on the concrete ground, Onyankopon laces an arm laces around her waist, pulling her in close.

“Okay,” she hums, bringing a hand to his chest.

As she looks up into Onyankopon’s low eyes, the lust in them is undeniable. She practically shivers with excitement.

“You cold?” He chuckles, cracking a grill-decorated smile. His perfectly groomed brows even pull together.

God, she’s never noticed how perfect his face looks up close.

Dumbly, she nods, her lips stretching into a wide smile. She watches his eyes flick downward to glimpse at her lips.

“I’ma get you warm soon, right?”

“Mmh, okay.”

Shaking his head, he allows himself to smile wider as he follows his security team into the hotel. 

As he said, two men stay behind to clean up the money at the back of the Rolls Royce. Just for Bliss.

Onyankopon’s room is on the eleventh floor. Normally, one would think that the commute from the hotel lobby to his room—by way of elevator, of course—wouldn’t take much time.

Five minutes, max.

But to Bliss, those five minutes are feeling a lot like thirty, at the very least.

While they waited for the elevator, Onyankopon was all over her. Large hands pulling her in and keeping her close—gripping her ass, too.

She’d whine his name, pushing her face into his chest. Because with the little bit of stragglers lingering in the lobby, there were still wandering eyes.

And he’d tell her, “Let ‘em watch,” because that’s the type of nigga he is. 

‘Rapper’ seems like a fitting title for him.

Oh, but when they finally get in the elevator? Not even his security being there was enough to keep him off of her.

He traps her against the back wall of the elevator. His large hand grasps the junction of her neck and jaw.

There’s tongue involved, far sooner than she thought there would be. But, she’s not complaining. Their heads twist as they suck on each other.

She finds herself moaning into his mouth as he applies pressure around her neck.

Bliss is barely able to pull away with the inch of breath that she was able to escape with. Both their lips are glossed over with spit—slimy and sticky. Their rushed pants quickly dry it, however. 

Before either of them can say anything, the elevator dings with the announcement of their arrival to the eleventh floor.

Only once the door to Ony’s suite shuts, is when they finally lose his security for the night. 

Bliss remains near the door, her first thought to take off her shoes. She keeps a hand on the nearby wall as she unhooks the back of her kitten heel from her foot.

It should take only ten seconds to get both shoes off. Yet, she lingers in that spot well after the time is up. Why?

Well, she’s watching him. 

Watching Onyankopon shrug that heavy jacket off of his wide shoulders and throw it down on the mini bar table. Watching him kick off his shoes. Watching him take a seat on a short leather couch, positioned in the middle of the circular shaped living room.

She isn’t quick enough; He catches her staring.

Her second heel finally drops to the ground. It makes a muted thud against the tiled floor—which is cold against her perfectly manicured feet.

With a tired sigh, Ony leans back against the couch, refusing to break eye contact. “Come.”

A faint smile makes the corner of her lips rise, and an amused scoff leaves her.

This time, Onyankopon watches her.

Watches the way her hips seem to perfectly sway—if even unintentional—with each step. Watches how her boobs bounce softly beneath the tight dress. Watches her land softly on his open lap, throwing an arm around his neck, too.

She throws her purse and phone down onto the cushion next to them, completely disregarding the objects.

Softly, he kisses his teeth, his eyes running over her body. 

“When you gon’ take this fucking dress off?”

She laughs. “When are you gonna take it off me?”

He licks his lips as he reaches behind her to slide a hand up her back, searching blindly for—he found it. 

At the top of her back, at the base of her neck, his fingers collect the small zipper and pulls. He drags it all the way down her spine, until the track stops, right above her ass.

“Now you want me to pull it off or you got that?”

Rolling her eyes, Bliss tugs at the tight sleeves of her dress, pulling her arms out. As she drags the constricting fabric down her body, her boobs spill out. 

The piercings immediately catch his attention. He resists the urge to reach out for them and touch.

Pulling back her hair, she tosses the bundles over a shoulder, allowing him to see everything. For a moment, she stands, only to pull the rest of the dress down.  

When she finally steps out of the pool of her own clothes, the only thing that covers her is that tiny ass G-string.

“Wish I could’a seen you at the show,” he tells her as she comes to sit back down on his lap.

Bliss licks her lips, looking down into his eyes. She hums, gazing at him. “I was dancing and everything.” 

“Oh, yeah?” His voice is soft and hushed, like hers. “Show me how you was dancing.”

She bites down on her lip, trying to stop her smile from growing.

He shifts beneath her, if only to pull out his phone. It’s a seamless process, how he was able to connect his phone to speakers that seem to be connected throughout the entire suite.

She almost laughs, if it weren’t for how serious he is; It’s one of Ony’s songs from his recently released EP. 

“Be my dancer,” he says in her ear, smiling wide.

She almost shivers. 

Wordlessly, she turns her back to him and puts hands on his spread knees. Leaning forward, she starts a slow whine. And Ony is all too happy to watch her ass move in circles right on his lap.

Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulls out a rubber-banded stack, just a bit thinner than those he had at the restaurant. He pops the elastic binding all of the bills together.

The beat changes, and Bliss shakes her ass side-to-side. Ony stretches an arm over her. The quick flick of his thumb pushes fifties and hundreds fluttering over her.

Entranced by the way the fat of her ass moves, he palms one cheek with the other hand.

As he begins to rub, Bliss returns to a slow whine before dropping it in his lap, earning a grunt from him. When she lifts her ass to do it again, Ony smacks it, gripping her immediately after.

Every time, she bounces her ass harder against him. She fights the urge to stop dancing and just solely grind against him, because at this point it’s getting hard to ignore the way he’s poking through his jeans. 

Her bounces grow shorter. The pressure and friction threaten to make her eyes roll back. She’s close to moaning out.

“Shit…” He bites down on his lower lip as he grips the fat of her hip. “Sexy ass lil’ bitch,” he groans.

In all this excitement, he almost forgot what they were doing. Picking the stack back up, he resumes the money shower, allowing the rest of his bills to rain down on her.

She looks back at him over her shoulder, noting the hand in his lap, holding his belt.

Biting down on her lip, Bliss fluidly turns around to get on her knees between his legs. The fallen bills keep her skin from touching the cold tiles.

One hand is positioned on his knee. The other snakes up his other legs, heading towards the buckle of his belt.

“Oh, you wanna get nasty?” His smile is full of mischief.

She nods as she focuses on opening his pants.

“Shiiit, go ‘head.”

And he didn’t need to tell her again. 

Manicured hands pull him out of his boxers. Bliss has to take a minute to cement this moment in her brain. Her heart is pounding in his chest.

He’s heavy in her hand. The very tips of her acrylics just barely touch as she’s wrapped around him. His thickness makes her tummy stir. She can’t wait to take him.

All of those nights she’s spent in bed, imagining him buried deep in her guts—now, it won’t be a toy doing the work. It’ll be the real thing.

Leaning forward, Bliss presses a kiss to the underside of his head. Quickly, she stretches out her tongue and laves it. 

“Don’t try to be cute,” he says through gritted teeth. Immediately, a hand swabs around the back of her head to gather her bundles in a messy, yet tight ponytail. “Suck me up like you do with them toys.”

She opens her mouth wide. Carefully tucking her teeth, Bliss engulfs his entire tip. She keeps him between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, sucking.

Her pace isn’t necessarily slow, that wasn’t even her intention. But, she’s not fast enough, either.

The hand in her hair guides her, encouraging a smooth push-and-pull of her head.

He sucks in air through his teeth. “Oou, just like that. Yeah—relax that throat.”

Her hands stretch across his denim-dressed knee caps, squeezing tighter as she struggles to keep up.

There’s a soft clinch in her face, eyes watering, as she gently gags.

“M-make sure you get that shit wet—mmh. Get it messy … just like that, get my dick messy.”

His voice softly coaxes her on. The firm grip on her hair paired with his commands has her doing everything he wants, and probably more.

His pace picks up, his force getting rougher. And even beneath the thick fans of her lash extensions, he can see her eyes rolling back.

Her gags are heavier, louder. His dick stabs her throat, causing wet clicks every time he touches the back of it. 

He groans out, his stomach clinching, as he feels her tighten around him.

“Sshit!” He laughs, her choking music to his ears. With a hiccup, a large rivulets of spit leak from her puckered lips and drips down his dick. “Yeaaah, just like that!”

As he chuckles over her, her pussy bares down on nothing. Her body is obsessed with the way he sounds.

It’s messy—so messy. Frothy bubbles of spit and cum gather at the rounded corners of her mouth. Thick globs hang from her lips, some of it even rolls down her neck. But all of it drips onto her bare chest, sticking to smooth skin.

And she doesn’t intend to do anything about it. The only goal she aims to accomplish at the moment is taking this dick without throwing up all over it.

Ony hooks a hand on the underside of her jaw as the other only tightens around her hair. All movement of her head is halted and the brief moment of stillness allows her to breathe properly—through her nose, of course.

“You gon’ swallow?”

“Mhm,” she nods eagerly. The fragile hum crackled as it left her.

Ony gazes down into her tear-filled eyes. He notes the mess clouding the bottom of her pretty face

“Sure?”

Her muffled ‘yes’ almost makes him laugh. She can hardly speak around his dick.

“Aight then.”

This time, he’s driving his hips forward, face-fucking her. Bliss lurches forward, hacking as he drills her throat. Yet she doesn’t tell him to stop. Nor does she pull away or even tap his thigh.

“C’mon,” he grunts, the deepest scowl on his face. “Take this dick, take this … f-fucking dick.”

Her body goes pliant as she allows him to use her face like a toy. However, her lips remain tight around him. She doesn’t even try to keep the spit from falling out of her mouth.

The longer he continues, his dick glides in and out of her lips. It’s all so slippery, she gags less and less with every thrust.

There is no announcement of his arrival. Only one more brutal thrust before he presses his hips to her face. They occasionally twitch as he shoots thick ropes of cum down her throat.

She almost chokes. Almost. It’s difficult to swallow his load around his dick, she lets out a gag or two.

When he finally drags himself out of her mouth, webs of spit and cum stretch between his tip and her swollen lips. She heaves, his hanging dick still in her face.

Too focused on gathering her breath, Bliss doesn’t see as he pulls his shirt off.

“Lift ya head,” he says, a soft hand cradling the back of hers.

Bliss looks up, staring into his eyes as he uses his Coogi shirt to wipe the muck off of her face.

His brows are furrowed as he concentrates on cleaning her off. “Yeah … can’t have all this shit drying on ya skin.” He even goes as far as to get her neck and chest. “Aight … there. You good now.” 

He pats her cheek with a smile, earning a giggle from the woman on her knees.

“Thank you.”

He outstretches a hand, helping her up on her two feet.

“It’s nothing,” he says softly. Using his soiled shirt, he wipes down his dick and inner thighs. And when he’s done, he tosses it aside.

As Ony is pulling up his pants, his dark eyes roaming her bare body, he gets an idea—eager to have her participate in it.

“You tryna smoke?”

•

The blunt shakes between her unsteady fingers. She doesn’t get a good inhale in—can hardly even pass it back to him.

Onyankopon does her a favor, taking the blunt back as he pushes his dick back in.

“Oou—shit.” Her shaky groan is music to his ears.

Holding the thick blunt between his lips, he takes his time bottoming out, both hands on her hips.

Her pussy flutters around him, her stomach stirring. This is the deepest he’s gotten, feeling his tip smushed against her cervix. Her head’s dizzy.

“Fuuuck, Onyy—“ A weak hand, hesitant in nature, cradles her lower tummy,

“I’m deep?”

“Mh—yes.” Her breath hitches.

He lifts a hand from her skin to pluck the blunt from between his lips. A thin cloud of smoke puffs from his nose.

“You could handle it,” he rasps. 

The slowly burning blunt dries his throat out, almost makes it scratchy. And yet the wetness between Bliss’ thighs makes it easy to forget the minor discomfort.

A shaky gasp slips from her mouth as he begins a slow stroke. It’s no surprise to her when—even as he’s the one fucking her—he pulls her back by the hips. The quiet clap of her ass against his pelvis and thighs cheers him on. It encourages him.

He wants her to be louder. He wants to hear more.

One minute he’s delivering slow, deep strokes, letting her body sing. Her pussy’s got a vice-like grip around him as it creams around him. Before long, she’s gripping the sheets tight and her legs tremble. 

Blunt be damned; Onyankopon drops it onto the floor in favor of focusing on the woman below him.

Her moans are loud and guttural as his dick punches her stomach from the inside. Even as they’re loud, the bed’s pristine, white sheets weaken the sounds.

And that just isn’t doing it for him.

“Nah, c’mere—“

Fingers grip her hair to yank her face out of the sheets. Her neck strains as her head is angled so far back, that she catches sight of something she’d been too horny to even see before: the mirror above the bed.

She’s got a clear eye-view of herself getting fucked as roughly as she’s always dreamed. It makes her clench down on him harder, she even whimpers seeing it. In such a fucked out state, it’s a drug seeing the way her body ricochets against his.

A small part of her is embarrassed seeing the faces she makes, she’s out of it. Yet, she loves it all the same. With Onyankopon as another set of eyes, she loves it even more—being watched while he turns her out.

Moan after moan pours from her lips until her throat is sore, and even then she still continues to yell at the top of her lungs about how good his dick is.

“Yes—yes! So … fuckin’ big—oh fuck!”

It’s impossible  to keep her grip on reality. Her knees can barely hold her up. The sweet pain in her lower stomach has her eyes rolling back. Ony tugs at her roots harder.

“Know you see yourself,” he grunts. “Know you see how I’m fuckin’ you.”

His smirk and breathless voice is just the cherry on top—she trembles as she squirts on him. But her release doesn’t make him slow down. In fact, Onyankopon goes harder.

“Mhm … cream on my shit. Squirt on my shit—drown me.”

Every time she tries to look at their reflection her eyes either crossed or she just can’t keep them open. All of her strength is reduced to nothing.

Onyankopon’s strokes, which hold an ungodly amount of force behind them, shakes the woman to her core. It knocks the air from her chest. 

A choked noise followed by heavy breathing is all that her body can muster. Seeing his response, Ony does it again, loving how it leaves her breathless and with no sound. 

He does it again. And again. And again. The clapping of skin is deafening to Bliss’s ears. Her vision blurs and all her body can do is focus on one thing at a time. All sounds begin to fade out. She can only spotlight the repeating jabs to her insides.

Every time she tightens around him, he finds it harder to hold back. But he keeps up. The faster he goes, the more sloppy and less accurate he becomes. 

As they continue on it doesn’t matter, Bliss is so close to another release, that it would only take a couple of these blind thrusts for her to cum again. 

“Shiiit!”

“What? It’s not enough?” He pulls out, and quickly thrusts back in, feeling triumphant when she yelps out.

“T-too mu—much,” she hisses.

He pulls out and she gasps, her body clenching around nothing. He takes himself in his hand, rubbing the head against her lips. He smears her cream around with his latex-covered tip.

She’s been stretched open, making it all too easy for him to see the creamy pinkness typically hidden behind brown lips. It’s a sight for sure, one that he can’t look away from as she pushes out some of her previous release.

However, he hadn’t realized that he was pressed for time; Bliss whines out, pushing back on him. Even her cunt clenches down, like it missed the fullness.

“C’mon,” she mumbles into the sheets.

He laughs. “You was just crying it was ’too much.’”

A brief moment of strength strikes her as she pulls her head out of the pillows to look back at him. “Put it in, Ony!”

With little to no effort, on account of how wet she was, he slips right back in, granting her that satisfying feeling of being stuffed. 

She moans sweetly and drops her head into the sheets, a long groan moving past her lips and he rolled his hips. The feeling of him stroking her insides, so good, better than good. 

It was great, and her eyes rolling back were evidence of that. He pulls out and pushes back in, repeating that movement at a fast pace. She sank her teeth into her lip, trying to stop herself from being too loud.

Bringing her hips up higher, Onyankopon achieves a better angle. She was getting drunk off his strokes, as well as the sound of him blowing her back out.

“Oh—oh… God,” she drawls.

The pleasure is overwhelming and she scoots up, trying to lessen the hits to her guts.

“Oh, so you runnin’? I thought you wanted me to beat it up?”

He pulls her back and holds onto her shoulders. Applying pressure, he uses that leverage to repeatedly bring her back on him, his thrusts hitting harder and deeper..

“Oh fuuuck,” she groaned and gasps, shutting her eyes to stop them from rolling back.

“You confusin’ me, mama.”

He’s reveling in the tight, warm and wet hug her body offers. He looks down, noting how her her body coats his dick in her cum.

“Shit, shit, oh fuck,” she whines.

He smacks her ass and keeps going.

“Oh shit…” he groans. “So… fuckin’ good,” he says under his breath, closing his eyes and getting lost in the feeling.

Bliss’s whimpers bring him back. Her thighs shake and her arch comes undone. 

In a flash, the desire to see her face again hits him like a freight train. And what other choice does he have but to do something about it?

It’s hard, but Onyankopon pulls out. Using what’s left of his strength, he flips her over on her back and drags her body to the edge of the bed. He’s wordless in his actions, she’ll see his point very soon. 

But, for now, Bliss sits up on her elbows to watch with tired confusion as he moves her.

Strong hands grabs her thighs and pull her flush against his front, eliciting a yelp from her. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist, giving him the perfect opportunity to lift her hips completely off the bed.

“What the fuck?” She laughs, her fatigue so apparent in her hoarse voice. 

She has to make a great effort to hold herself up. Of course, Ony holds her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t doing some type of work. 

“Trying something different. You good with this?”

She doesn’t think she’s ever been in such a position. It excites her, makes her giddy. It even brings a renewed sense of excitement and energy to her body. Her hair falls in her face as she gives a loose nod.

The muscles in his bicep flex as he transfers all of her weight to one hand, busying the other as he grabs himself. Just like this, she’s like a five-star meal placed before him, ready for him to demolish. 

He gives himself two quick tugs before aligning with her weeping center and slowly pushing back in.

The stretch is wonderful every time, evidenced by the way Bliss throws her head back.

He fucks into her, holding onto her hips so tight that his thumbs press against her hip bones. She writhes, and her legs damn near squeeze the life out of him as he hits spots in her that she didn’t even think to be possible.

“Keep squeezin’ me like that—yeah,” he groans out, throwing his head back as well.

Her moans seem to have run out despite her mouth hanging wide open. She’s completely silent, unable to scream as he digs her out.

“Uh—fuck, I’m ‘bout to c-cum—” Ony’s resolve seems to be cracking as his voice waivers with his moans.

Her legs tremble and her pretty toes curl so tight that her feet almost cramp up.

A burning heat flashes throughout his body as his orgasm catches him by surprise. His mouth drops open and his muscles tense before he leans down, dropping them back onto the mattress as he pushes his face into her neck. 

Senselessly, Onyankopon ruts into her, riding out his nut until he stops filling the condom. The overstimulation pushes Bliss over the edge as well. 

Her orgasm comes crashing down around them as her pussy clenches down on him, only wetting his dick further. She hugs him close, keeping him from pulling out too soon.

“Awe fuck,” he mumbles. As his lips had moved against the skin of her neck, it tickles her.

She giggles.

“Fuck you laughing for?” 

She can hear the smile in his voice.

“Tickles,” she breathes out. Shifting beneath him, she can still feel him inside of her, softening by the minute.

His chest rumbles with a deep sigh. “This shit got me … wantin’ to pass out.”

She hums in agreement, slowly dragging a hand up and down his back. His body is hot, a bit sweaty, too. She doesn’t doubt that hers feels the same way to him.

Movements filled with fatigue, Onyankopon pushes himself up to look down at her. Her makeup is definitely fucked up, courtesy of tonight’s events. And yet, he can’t stop himself from smiling when he stares at her.

“What?” She laughs, growing just a little bit shy.

“You better than a fuckin’ blunt after a show.”

She breaks into a full on laugh, giving him a much clearer view of her cute gap. “Thanks?”

“Nah,”  he says, shaking his head. “I definitely gotta keep you around.”

And even if he didn’t want to, Bliss doesn’t think she’d let him go.

…

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[dejwrld]

CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 2

( GUARDIAN ANGEL ) 🎮 GUARDIAN ANGEL!SEPHIROTH X READER

— game synopsis: he's been your guardian angel since you were sixteen years old. protecting you from danger you didn't see coming, but now that you're slowly wanting space from him—he makes it his mission to remind you who you belong to until you take your final breath.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, slight enemies to fuckers, reader somewhat purposely put herself in danger, possessive!sephiroth, mentions of sephiroth having pretty white wings, mating press position, cream pies, mentions of soul ties,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough

You’ve known him since you were sixteen years old. The mere memory of him grabbing at your backpack strap to tug you out of the way as you were about to walk into ongoing traffic imprints your brain like a nostalgic TV memory. He was a sixteen-year-old guardian angel who aged through the years as you grew, interfering in your life as if you were the most life-threatening person ever. 

Freshman year of college, he’s taking the red solo cup of whatever mixed potion the older frat guys made out of your hand. This led to practically the whole campus thinking you were chronically insane as you argued with no one because they couldn’t see what you saw. He interfered with your life at moments when you had it all under control, and he didn’t need to baby you as if you didn’t. But you were grateful for him, and the things he did stop when things got bad.

It's like killing a guy who roofied you at a bar. Despite the toxic drugs from drinking your drink, it had you feeling like you were in another world. You remember the crimson-red liquid staining his large, elegant white wings after the deed was done. After that, he’s never left your side, and you grew to feel suffocated. You couldn’t do much in your life if you had your guardian angel down your neck twenty-four-seven commenting on you getting hurt or dying. 

Now an adult, he still was here. Despite you being perfectly fine. No freak accidents, no near-death experiences. He still was here lurking around as if you were a child. 

Right now, watching as you poorly attempted to get laid. Your panties dangle from your ankle as you wait for the guy to insert, but as your horny meter slowly decreases—so does the poor stranger you met at a bar cock. Your eyes averted between your bodies as he aggressively pumped his condom-covered cock; you could hear his laughs as he was sitting on your kitchen counter chewing on an apple. 

Fuckin’ Sephiroth.

“You know what? That’s okay. Just leave.” You pushed the guy off you, limp dick and all while you’re scrambling to tug your panties back on. 

“What? It just takes some time,” The guy’s tugging his pants up in frustration. “Just please…baby.” He’s grasping on you, and you’re swatting his hand away like it’s an annoying fruit fly. 

“Just go. I’m no longer in the mood.” You warned.

This was a warning not only for yourself but for him. You had a 6’1 angel looming around your apartment who didn’t care to kill someone—especially a person who wasn’t following directions. Your eyes darted from him in the kitchen to the guy who kissed his teeth while collecting his belongings.

“Don’t call me anymore! You completely wasted my time.” He sneered at you while leaving your apartment. The door closed with a harsh slam that made you jump. 

As silence drifts over your apartment, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of that annoying clock in your kitchen ticking, you lean back on the couch with a sigh. “You know, you completely ruined the vibe, you know?” Your eyes land on the white-haired male as he finishes the apple he obnoxiously chews on.

“Do not blame it on me.” He tosses the apple in a trash can and stands up to close the space between you.

“I am blaming you because it seems like every romantic connection I attempt to make, you are there to ruin it.” You sneered at him before sitting up. “I don’t think this will work anymore, Sephiroth.” 

“Are you saying you want to release me of my duties of being your guardian angel?” He asks. You can feel he got closer despite shifting your eyes closed to calm yourself down from this talk. 

You two have been together for years. He’s been protecting you for years, and now it felt so suffocating that you couldn’t breathe. Sometimes, you wanted to release him of his duties, but you knew when you did that every memory you’ve shared with him would vanish. It would be like you two have never met. 

The sight of him with his elegant white wings on his back. The sight of blood staining his pale skin after murdering someone that hurt you. The look of worry when you almost walk into traffic, and he was a split second from being too late. 

He was yours just as much as you were his. But you needed space. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, pushing yourself off the couch to enter your room. “You know, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t think we can co-exist in each other’s lives anymore.” You explained you turned around, and he was leaning against your doorframe with the most obnoxious face. 

It was as if your words were going out one ear and the other for him. “We’re not young anymore. I don’t need you being so….so.” You were searching for the word to describe how you felt—frustration riddling your bones as you attempted to express yourself. 

Sephiroth took steps forward, closing the gap between you two. When he was towering over you with such little care at how close he was to you—he fixed your tank top strap and let his slender fingers linger on your shoulder just a little longer to cause goosebumps to garnish your skin immediately. 

“Possessive.” He finishes your sentence as his teeth graze upon his lower lip. “Is that the word you’re searching for, my little ward?” 

And with challenging eyes, you met his and said, “Yes. Possessive, like you own me or something.” 

His chuckles. But this chuckle was different from the one you have heard. It felt more sinister, more agitated. 

“You’re stuck with me, love. If you like it or not. We’re bound together until you die of old age or better yet, I briefly take my eyes off you as fate finally chooses a moment for you to die. Maybe a bus will hit you as you walk into traffic for texting on that silly device of yours, or maybe you’ll accidentally hit your head.” 

Your eyebrows furrow together in frustration and anger at his words. 

“You enjoy my company but don’t want to admit it. You think I didn’t notice the way you bring home little flings to spite me. You think I can’t hear the way your heartbeat quickens at the sight of me watching you get fucked by some man who can’t even make you orgasm. Sephiroth’s eyes glance over your body like he was observing you under a microscope. “So tell me, Y/N.” His finger’s toying with that strap on your tank top that keeps falling off your shoulder. 

“How many times have you imagined me, your sworn protector—your guardian angel fucking you?” His fingers drag alongside your nipples that harden through the thin white fabric of your tank top. “And don’t lie; I know when you’re lying to me.” 

You couldn’t quite remember what you had said after his words for your knees to be pressed upon your stomach and for Sephiroth’s cock to be buried into your throbbing cunt while your moans bounced off the walls. The pornographic sound of heated skin slapping against each other with the sound of your headboard banging against the wall was like music to your ears. But you enjoyed the sight of Sephiroth more. 

His crystal white hair fell in his face so perfectly. Comically enough, you wanted to say he looked like an angel. His eyes kept averting between your fucked out face and in between your body. With each glance down there, it seemed he fucked you into the mattress even harder. Instantly, your legs snake around his waist, completely trapping him from depriving you of what you were so eager for.

Sephiroth chuckles darkly through your pants of desperation, “Seems you’re enjoying this a little too much.” He mumbles. He pulls his cock entirely out of you, leaving you whining for more. 

He guides his cock in between your pussy lips rubbing in the mixture of your essence and pre-cum. Your back arched off the mattress with urgency, and he pushed you back down so you could endure the pleasurable torture of his cock teasing you until you were staining the cotton sheets below your naked body. With each stroke between your puffy lips, you’re squeezing your eyes shut tightly to prevent even the littlest thought of him seeing you like this. You didn’t think you could fathom the mere embarrassment. 

“Come on, you don’t want to see how well you take me?” He questions, his voice rings with a teasing tone that makes your pussy pulse. 

“Fine then.” He mumbles what seems to himself before he hooks his strong arms under your knees, completely trapping you under him and what’s to come.

You wondered if Sephiroth could hear how fast your heart was beating. It felt like it was bouncing around your chest like a small ball in a pinball machine. The feeling of his thick tip brushing against your entrance felt like the world had stopped. Perhaps it did. The idea of a guardian angel fucking his ward into her mattress had to be some form of rule breaker, right? Maybe, just maybe—God had briefly paused the world to give you time to weigh out the pros and cons of this.

But when Sephiroth bottomed down inside you, you felt the world unpause, and a wave of pleasure travel across your body. You even could hear yourself let out a sigh of relief—as if you’ve been waiting for this moment in centuries. The way his cock was inside, you felt like it was a missing piece in a puzzle you need. It fit perfectly, but when he started rotating and thrusting his hips—you couldn’t help but call out his name like it was a scripture.

It wasn’t as if you could do anything else but take his sensual thrusts. The mating press position trapped you from doing anything else but that. The way he was making you feel at the moment had you ignoring all that. Your moans echoed into his ear, and Sephiroth was very responsive because he’d grunt back like a rabid animal in heat. Ensuring that the feeling was mutual. That he was feeling just as good as you were. 

“After this, you’ll be stuck with me forever, right?” Sephiroth asked. His tongue drags alongside the bridge of your right ear, and instantly, your legs snake around his waist, locking your feet together so he won’t let go.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” His words send a chill down your spine as he continues to fuck into the mattress.

The pornographic sound of heated flesh echos upon your bedroom, and your eyes seem to squeeze shut in bliss. Savoring the moment between the two of you until you couldn’t anymore. Your pussy pulsed around his cock, and your thighs quivered under your guardian angel’s touch. His grip on you grew tighter, and you knew that he was unraveling right on top of you. His groans that echoed in your ear changed into whines of desperation. If you were being honest with yourself, you haven’t seen him this desperate in your life.

But it was a reason for that because, in just three seconds, he was a coming mess. He didn’t even bother to pull out, either. His nails dug into your heated flesh with each thrust inside of you, ensuring that each droplet of his cum stayed inside of you. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you leaned up to indulge in a heated kiss to seal the deal that you knew was going to follow you for years.

You truly were stuck with him forever until you took your last breath. 

TAGS // @salaciousdoll @syndrlla97 @lilvampirina @msun1c0rn

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

say yes to heaven

how spencer and you deal (or don't deal) with the fact that he doesn’t want a baby anymore after coming home from prison, and you really do.

MDNI | angst

word count: 2226 warnings & tags & stuff: bau!reader, avoidant reader, avoidant spencer, no happy ending (wtf), reader wants a baby, one line about reader not having a certain religious belief, they like almost have sex, spencer undresses reader, lots of talk about a condom, they dont really fight at all?, very underdeveloped/bad description of quantum immortality author's note: heyyyyy guyss whats up..... this is a different vibe to my regular stuff and i fear it may be really ooc?? i don't know how to feel but i literally have to post or i'll go even more crazy sooo here we are!! have a delightful day, let me know your thoughts if you have any, ily!!!

Antique shops, you and Spencer have decided, are the hidden gems of this nation yet to be appreciated enough by the general public. 

Each town or city you visit is bound to have one, and going to them has become a little celebratory tradition. In the early mornings after cases are solved, right before the plane ride home, you take a look around. You’re typically the first and only ones in the store, wandering with intertwined hands and sipping on ‘2 extra foamy cappuccinos with an additional shot of espresso, please’ and occasionally, but not necessarily, choosing something to take back to D.C.

You’ve been trying your absolute hardest to fill your home to the brim– sometimes with objects, and other times with words, or touch, or the ever so valuable and fleeting concept of shared time– in effort to replace what had been lost in that three month long period when it was completely devoid of tangible, fresh love.

It’s today you’re wandering through a quaint, very cluttered shop in western Oregon, the Pacific visible from the store’s windows. 

Wheels up in an hour. Don’t be late. Hotch’s text buzzes in your pocket, but you barely glance at it– there’s something about the Oregon coast that reaches into your heart and gives it a gentle massage, enveloping you in a refreshing lack of urgency.

Spencer, in his own peaceful world, is staring at a tall wall of books. He reaches out to pick up a dusty rendition of Moby Dick, carefully cracking it open to the first few pages to check the publication date, brow scrunching as he reads. You go to peer over his arm to check as well, when something catches the corner of your eye. You let go of his hand to inspect.

A bassinet. Dark wood, surface polished to a faint sheen, with intricate little waves engraved on the sides, like the ocean’s misty outreach had come all the way into the shop and placed this here for you to see. 

You weren’t exactly sure when this now familiar ache had started; this deep, internal desire felt in your stomach for a little hand to be gripped around your pointer and for tiny onesies to fill your laundry basket, but you’re sure, with every fiber of your being, that you want it to be there.

“Spence,” you say softly, voice jarring in the otherwise stillness of the shop. “Come look.” He carefully closes the book and puts it back where it was and pads over, looking down at the bassinet. His eyebrows raise slightly.

“Wow. It looks like it was made in the 80s, maybe even earlier. You won’t find any level of detailing more recently than that, it’s too labor intensive for modern production methods. Good find.”

“I know. Should we get it?” you ask, biting a smile. He quickly meets your eyes, brow raising slightly.

“Do you want to?” he asks, voice even.

“I mean, I just think it’s really cute, with the waves and stuff.” you say bashfully, nudging it with your toe so it rocks back and forth. Spencer swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

“Yeah, I just…” Spencer hesitates. “I don't think we’d be able to bring it on the jet. It would probably snap in half if we held it in the wrong way,” he says, making your brain race even though he hasn’t said a single thing that should cause it to do so.

“Oh.”

You blink.

“No, yeah, you’re totally right. It’s too inconvenient. You should get that copy of Moby Dick instead. That edition looked cool, with the forward explaining all the names,” you say gently, pushing a smile, nudging him back towards the shelf. He goes, shooting you one last glance as you move to observe a few clocks hanging on the wall.

Spencer doesn’t reach for your hand again when he comes back.

…

The house is quiet when you arrive back home, hours later. Spencer sets his bag down by the door, and yours goes next to his to be dealt with later.

Exhaustion from the case is heavy in your limbs; the long flight and the sleepless nights are seeping into your bones, but Spencer seems perfectly intent upon kissing it better. You rest your forehead on his chest, exhaling softly, contentedly, as he presses kiss after kiss into your hair. He gently rests his hands on your waist and pushes you against the door– not as an act of dominance, like if someone were viewing you two from afar might assume, but one of simple convenience.

His hand reaches up to tilt your chin to the position he wants. Before leaning in to your neck, he pauses. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to go to bed?” he asks. “You didn't sleep last night.” You shake your head, giving his cheek a small peck of your own.

“It’s one of those tireds where I can’t even think about sleep ever again.” 

A small smile grows on his face.

“I bet I can change that,” Spencer offers, knuckles skimming over your waist. You smile and let him tug you upstairs to your room and guide your hips to sit on the bed. His hand cups the side of your jaw, as always, lips moving to press against yours in a soft, affectionate display of his adoration. His other hand moves to your waist, squeezing, and you shiver a little in response, making him hum gently. 

His hands go underneath the hem of your top. “Okay?” he asks. You nod, lifting your arms to help. His eyes take their time tracing over you, but never in a way that couldn't be defined as sweet. His hand leaves your cheek and goes to the bedside table, sliding open the drawer. It draws toward the front left corner, as it always does, when it pauses. He turns to look at you, hesitating.

You, whose legs are now pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them. You stare at the yellow light of the lamp you and Spencer picked out months ago reflecting against those countless little squares of foil. 

Your lips are drawn inwards, between your teeth, unable to help your mind from racing to other realities, ones where every detail is the very same, except Spencer chose not to open that drawer tonight. 

…

Spencer explained the basis of quantum immortality to you a long time ago, in the early stages of your relationship, at a time so late in the night where a regular person would never be able to form coherent thoughts, let alone thoughts like these.

You were slumped over the kitchen island, peering at him as he wandered around, silently marveling at the preciousness of your boyfriend the world seemed to take for granted as he tried to get you to understand how cool this concept was.

“There’s also an interpretation of quantum mechanics proposed by a physicist named Hugh Everett which involves a ‘many worlds’ concept: essentially, it suggests that every possible outcome of an event creates its own branch of reality, meaning an infinite number of parallel worlds exist, each containing a version of events where everything that can happen, does happen,” he starts, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. “So quantum immortality is rooted in the concept that when we die in one timeline, we essentially just move on to the next one where every detail is the same except… well, you don’t die.”

He went on to emphatically talk about some guy’s cat in a box, but how this time, in a thought experiment that demonstrates this theory of immortality, you’re the cat.

You had pretty much lost him when he got to that part.

…

You blink, shoving the memory from your mind. 

“You’re staring,” you point out quietly.

“You’re pretty,” Spencer responds. He sits next to you on the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You watch as his other hand fiddles with the condom he grabbed, running his thumb over the edges of the wrapper. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “Did I do something?” You shake your head softly. 

“Mm-mm.”

“Really? Because we’ve been sitting in silence and you haven’t stopped staring at the condom in my hand for the past two minutes.”

You exhale quietly, internally screaming at yourself to just spit it out.

It’s never been easy, being an agent dating an agent. Sure, agreements have been made to not profile each other, but with so many years of experience, small observations and connections about your partner’s nature are an automatic practice. You know that Spencer takes 3 sugars in his coffee just as well as you know he says your name more frequently and shortens his sentences when scared, almost like he tries to instead convey the appearance he’s mad.

You also know very well that you and Spencer have both been consciously avoiding this conversation like the plague, especially since his homecoming. 

You gnaw at your lip, trying to think of something to say, but your mind can only come up with freaky images of cats that are simultaneously alive and dead until observed.

“`M sorry, I was just thinking. Lost in my mind.”

“Thinking about what?”

Relationships that are simultaneously kept and broken until a certain conversation is had.

“Um. Quantum immortality. Who’s that guy? Hugh Jackman?”

Spencer straightens, eyebrows raising a little. “Hugh Everett,” he supplies. His tone is gentle, coaxing. “You’ve been thinking about that? I told you about him months ago.”

He stands as you quietly think of a response, grabbing a hoodie from the closet to tug over your bare torso, letting his hand gently cradle the back of your head after doing so.

“Yeah. I did a little more reading on it. It’s kind of a nice thought I keep going back to. Obviously really, really scary when you think about it for too long. But nice in the sense that there’s probably a version of us out there somewhere where…” you trail off, suddenly extremely aware of the weight of your words. 

He glances down to the condom he left on the comforter.

The thick silence that follows feels like it stretches across a thousand timelines, each one probably also filled with countless what-ifs and unspoken words and really bad communication, and at the very root of all of it, fear. That deep, gaping hole in both of your souls.

When Spencer finally looks at you, his eyes are so deep it takes your breath away. So deep that it jars you into just saying it.

“Spencer,” you begin, voice so quiet. “Do you still want kids?”

You find yourself shooting up a silent prayer to whoever is out there looking out for you– God or Isaac Newton or Hugh Everett or Jason Gideon: 

Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you continue– a habit probably picked up from the person standing right in front of you. “I just feel like there was a time where we were almost talking about it, but then it… went away.”

He reaches out to gently take the condom you were now fiddling with and sets it back in the drawer, his hand resting on the edge of the table as if grounding himself. His face is soft, almost glowing in the dim yellow light.

“I know,” he starts, voice crackling at the edges.

You stay dead silent.

“I didn’t mean for it to go away,” Spencer says, the crack in his voice causing you to glance up and see his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod, shakily, though the perpetual ache in your stomach is sharper now, more like it’s a knife stabbing you through the gut.

“I get it,” you say, even though part of you doesn’t want to. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You can’t even bring yourself to think of the implications of what he just said– all you know is that there is something fundamentally different between you and Spencer that wasn’t there before.

“It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. You know I do. But I can’t. Not now.”

You reach out your hand for him to take.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “It’s okay. Really. We don’t have to talk about it any more.”

His lips press into a thin line, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Clearly. It wasn’t a statement said to be believed. There was nothing okay, at all, but this isn’t a fight- there’s nothing to fight about. There's just a quiet understanding. He nods, finally, and steps back. “We should get some sleep,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.

You watch as he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, still in his work clothes, leaving just enough space for you beside him. After a moment you curl up next to him because, despite everything, doing the alternative would be so much worse.

Spencer's arms wrap around you, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, and you close your eyes and let the silence settle over you both, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. Something you would have given anything to have not so long ago.

[peepshow321]

TaskRaccoon Premium: Chapter 8

It's All Greek to Me

First chapter

Previous chapter

Jace burst out of the faculty building, his head in a spin. His hopes of catching up to Simon fell away - he couldn't see Simon anywhere and as far as he knew had no clear way of contacting him. So he would have to wait until Simon got in touch with him, or think of another creative plan to get out of this life. Creative thinking, however, was no longer Jace's strongest attribute and as he stood blinking in the sun he felt lost and aimless.

He was suddenly self-conscious of the looks he was getting from passing students. Many of them were admiring, some were clearly amused by his sweaty appearance, but he got the sense that a few were surprised to see someone who was so clearly a jock standing outside the faculty building at this time of day. He started walking, without a clear destination in mind. Jace figured he needed somewhere to rest and then he could plan his next move. Jace wondered that - like when he was José - if he followed his feet, he would instinctively end up where this life lived. He tried to conjure up a plan, but his thoughts were thick and unfocused.

In the absence of other ideas, he felt how easy it would be to slip into Jace's life - become a young, hunky wrestler star. He could sleep around, become the BMOC, ace the sport but... what then? What were this life's prospects for after college? Even his struggles in the tutor session, Jace was sure he would be bombing his classes - whatever they were. He could not end up as some washed up former jock.

Jace was so in his head mulling over his options, it took him a moment to realise that he was standing outside the front door of a standalone house. Had he made his way to Jace's home? The porch was littered with empty beer cans and he spotted a few balls on the lawn, strewn amongst a messy garden with a rusted barbecue and beach chairs. He stepped back and saw on the front facade of the house three towering Greek letters, almost mocking his inability to read them. With a sinking feeling, Jace realised he had ended up at a frat house.

Jace tentatively pushed open the unlocked front door. "Erm, hello?" he shouted into the empty hallway. He didn't get a reply - maybe the other guys who lived here were still asleep or out of the house. The ground floor of the house was a mess, covered in empty pizza boxes, vats of protein powder, and more beer. The house had a persistent musky, unclean smell. Jace shuddered, he couldn't believe this was his life now unless he fixed something.

His body still on autopilot, he made his way upstairs until he found a locked door. Not surprised to find a set of keys in his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered his room. Jace felt a wave of familiarity as he entered the room. He could feel his body physically and mentally relax, as if he had come back to his home, his safe space. Jace could almost recognise the unmade bed, the clothes littered across the floor, and the desk covered in rubbish and protien bars rather than any books. He could even recognise the smell because, he realised, it smelt like him - like a sweaty changing room. He tried to bat away these thoughts, reminding himself that he was only here temporarily as he figured out his next move and that the items in the room - the singlets and jock straps on the floor, the set of weights in the corner, the empty condom wrappers - they weren't his. Even if they felt, intrinsically, his.

Jace's head hurt - this was all too much to take in - and he made his way to the unmade bed. He just needed five minutes to lie down and think, but as soon as he hit the pillow he immediately passed out.

Jace jolted awake to the sound of laughs and shouting from downstairs. "Fuck man, what time is it?" he mumbled. He was momentarily taken aback from his voice, which seemed deep and gruff. He rubbed his throat, feeling a thick Adam's apple and stubble, and inspected his hands, their thick sausage fingers covered in hair. He remembered. He isn't Josh, a bright postgrad with a hopeful future. He's Jace. He's a wrestler, a jock, a frat boy. He's slow, and thick, and trapped. He remembers his previous bodies and lives - the bartender, the pool boy, the graduate, the bouncer - but the memories and faint and fleeting. For now, this is who he is.

Jace pulled himself around of bed, marvelling once again at his veiny arms as he did so. He yawned, scratching his eyes as a wandered across the floor towards a full-length mirror on the opposite wall. It was the first time he had had a chance to see himself and, well, he was fucking big. Not tall and massive like Jamal, but stout and thick. He wasn't any shorter than he had been as Josh, but all of his muscles and bulk painted the illusion of someone small, someone who almost seemed like they needed to be stretched out. Everything about him was thick - his short neck, his square head, his squat torso, and his bulging legs. And he loved it. He looking fucking amazing.

He stripped off his tank top and let it fall to the floor, gasping as he saw his upper body in its full glory. What grabbed his eye first was the hair - the front of his torso was covered in thick dark hairs, streaming over his shoulders. He turned around and even some hairs creeping down his back. This should have put him off, but he couldn't help but admire how his dark hair contrasted his tanned skin, and how despite the carpet he had his muscles were still clear to see. He casually flexed, feeling his bis and tris and - in a moment that caused him to laugh out loud - managed to make his hairy pecs dance.

He grinned, and as he caught his shit-eating face in the mirror noted that he was one handsome motherfucker. He could imagine girls going crazy for his thick hair, tan skin, and strong facial features that were blocky enough to go with his blocky body. He had dreamy green eyes that offset his tan skin perfectly, although they stuck him as being a bit unfocused.

That didn't matter though, cause what the girls would really love he thought, was his bod. He felt up his firm body and ran his hands through his hairy chest and grinned again when he felt a rise in his sweatpants.

Now that, his fuckstick, was what the girls were really interested in, he thought absent-mindedly. He started to rub his dick through his sweatpants, proud that despite his smaller height he still had a giant knob. Without thinking, Jace pushed with sweats to the ground so he could get a better grip, laughing when he had to use two hands to jerk it fully. His dick was thick and veiny, sticking out from an untamed bush. His legs now on show, he admired his thick thighs and chunky ass, and loved how jacking himself off made all the veins in his arms pop. He was a short king, he was a fucking stud, and he was... he was... about to nut all over his fucking mirror. Jace exploded, eyes rolling back as he drenched his mirror. He breathed deeply, feeling more content and grounded than he had in days. For the first time in he could remember, he felt whole.

Jace knew that this life wasn't his and that he needed to find a way out of it at some point, but was there any harm in just chilling out for now? What was the rush? He had always been such a highly strung guy, and there was kinda of a nice thrill in just letting his body take over. If anything, Simon bailing on their tutoring session was a bit of a win - he got to live the kind of life he never would have been able to when he was at college, the life of someone who didn't have to worry about studies or exams. Someone who could just fuck about and have fun. For now and until he figured out a way back, that sounded pretty good Jace thought.

Jace picked up a jock strap from the floor and used it to haphazardly wipe his cum from the mirror, before hearing a firm knock at his door. "Yo Jace, you in?" Jace pulled up his sweatpants and squeezed on his tank top as he opened the door. Jace had to crane his neck to look up at the towering guy who had opened it. He had full blonde hair, a handsome cleanly shaven face and a lean V-shaped torso. Jace felt a flicker of recognition and continued to stare at the guy. He was a stranger, right? So why did he feel like he knew him?

"Yo, earth to Jace," the guy said. "You good? You're acting even more spacey than usual." Jace laughed, feeling pretty comfortable around this guy. "Yeh, sorry man. Just up from a nap so a bit out of it." The swimmer laughed, "oh yeh, what's your excuse the rest of the time then?" Jace laughed along, even though he didn't really get what the guy was on about. That was fine though, he seemed pretty chill. "Anyway man, some of us are gonna chuck the ball around out front if you're game." Jace nodded enthusiastically - that actually sounded perfect, a great way to take his mind off things and an excuse to show off his new bod.

Jace soon found himself back on the front lawn with five of his frat brothers, chucking a ball about and chatting. They were all casually dressed, mostly in some form of active wear. All five of the guys had athletic builds, some more lean and wirey, some with a bit more heft. Jace realised with some disquiet than he was the shortest of all of them - the others guys must have all easily been over six foot, so part of him felt a bit intimidated when they all crowded around him. He reminded himself, with some pride, that although the other guys were taller, he was the most muscular. He could probably bench press and squat way more than these lanky fuckers! He was also the hairiest, had the best arms, and probably had the biggest dick of all of them! He was damn proud of his body, of the unit he had put together.

One of the biggest guys who almost rivalled him in bulk - a black linebacker Kyle - held his nose performatively when Jace got close. "Dude, you fuckin' reek. You still wearing that same shit you wore to the gym this morning? You ever gonna fucking change?" Jace just smiled; he hadn't even noticed he was still in the same clothes, the top still damp with sweat and the sweatpants (he now noticed awkwardly) with a dried cum stain down the right leg. He knew Kyle was just joking though, he was his friend! Jace played along. "Haha, it saves on washing man! I even more this stuff to a tutoring session this morning!"

The other guys paused, looking baffled and bemused. Kyle laughed "Jace, what the fuck were you doing at a tutoring session this morning?" Jace looked around, seeing his friends looking confused. "For... Ancient Greek. I came top of the class last year" Jace tailed out sheepishly. With that, the other guys exploded with laughter. Jace felt put out by this - was it so surprising that he studied Ancient Greek? Kyle clapped Jace on the shoulder. "Dude, who are you kidding, you can barely read English let alone Ancient Greek! What the fuck are you doing trying to learn that shit?"

Jace was getting pissed off now - he wasn't this fucking dumb idiot everyone assumed! He was smart! "Well, it's my major!" he shouted back. The blonde swimmer, Billy, looked concerned now, and approached Jace. "Jace, you know that your major is sports science right? That's the only course the school would let you in on and you're flunking that, even with our help. You can't just switch to something else." Jace tried to think, but his head felt tight and muffled. He collapsed on a bench, his mind reeling.

Was Billy right? Maybe Ancient Greek was over his head. That tutor session with Simon had been embarrassing. And at least with sports science, it was taught in the school gym building. He guessed that he was there pretty much all the time anyway!

From the recesses of Jace's mind, a shout of protest echoed out. That wasn't right. He had studied classics, he knew all about it, and he hadn't ever set foot in the college gym before! So why did that life all feel so far away, while the life of a college jock felt so real? If he stayed in this life, is this who he would become? Jace didn't even know if this guy he was now had parents, or family, or a girlfriend. And all these guys acting like they were his friends, he hadn't even existed before today.

Jace could feel himself getting worked up, getting angsty, and as if on cue, Billy came over and gently put his arm around Jace. "Look Jace, I know you sometimes don't feel great about, you know... not always being the smartest in the room. But you're a fucking beast on the mat right? That's what matters." Jace couldn't help but nod along. Billy, who loomed over him, was so smart, so confident. And he was right, he was a fucking beast on the mat. He could take down any of these guys, easy. He smiled, and Billy ruffled his hair. Jace felt comforted, felt protected. He almost felt like he was their little brother, even though they were all the same age.

The guys started throwing the ball around again, chatting away as they did so - about classes, about girls, about sports. Jace for the most kept quiet, just happy to be hanging out with these guys. It helped take his mind of his problems, even if he didn't always understand what the guys were on about - two of the guys got in a heated argument about the economy which was completely over his head - but he was increasingly finding that he didn't care. The guys would chat with him, speaking slowly and asking him simple questions about wrestling, about whether he had had any luck with girls, whether he had been to any parties. Jace just made up answers, but they seemed to believe him. He enjoyed being part of the group, being looked after. It felt easy.

Soon, he and some of the guys had taken their tops off. Jace relished the opportunity to show off his hairy, built torso, and couldn't help but admire his arms as he threw and caught the ball. Being out here in the sun with his bros, his worries about Ancient Greek, Simon, the app and being Josh faded away. He felt strong, he felt good. Sure, he wasn't the brightest guy any more, but had being smart as Josh made him happy? He had been unemployed with no solid goals. Why was he in such a rush to get back?

Billy broke Jace's concentration. "Wait, dude, aren't you supposed to be at practice? You haven't forgotten again have you?" Jace paused. Shit, had he? Honestly, he couldn't remember shit. Billy laughed, "bro, you better get down there. I don't want your fucking coach shouting at us again to keep you in line!" Jace panicked, started to run inside, hearing Billy shout after him "and remember your gear this time!"

Jace bundled up the stairs and ran into his room. He was, despite everything, excited. Excited to try out this body for real, excited to see what this life had in store for him. He stripped out of his sweats - giving himself a quick wink in the mirror - and grabbed a random jock strap from the floor, forgetting that he had used it as a cum rag just an hour earlier. He found a singlet on the ground which - at least to Jace's mind - seemed clean enough. He was only gonna sweat in it anyway! The singlet fit perfectly, exenuating his muscular body and highlighting his hairy pecs. Even though he was in a rush, Jace couldn't help but flex in the mirror - he looked fucking good. Jace knew that, deep down, this short king, stocky frat boy wasn't him, that he shouldn't be wearing a cum-soaked jock strap or a used singlet, that he shouldn't be excited about training. But he didn't care, this felt good.

Jace grabbed his phone to pull up directions to the gym but his phone was still stuck on the TaskRaccoon app, on that stupid tutoring task. He was over that now, he didn't need any more tutoring. He just wanted to make it to his wrestling practice and grapple some guys, work up a sweat. But Jace, clumsily pawing at the app with his thick fingers, couldn't close it, couldn't pull up Google Maps. He kept getting the same prompt, some shit about a penalty if he backed out of the task. Jace knew he shouldn't, knew that something bad could happen, but right now he didn't care. He felt best when he let this new body take over and not overthink things.

Gazing at himself and smirking in the mirror, he cancelled the task and was overcome with a blinding white light.

Next chapter

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lock Me Down & Throw Away The Key 🔐 (Gojo x F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Two of me would be cute, dontcha think, baby?”

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Pairing: Fiance!Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader (Engaged Couple)

Synopsis: In which you come home from a bachelorette night with your girls with a particular hyper fixation on being filled up good and bred by your sexy fiancé who is soon to be your husband in just a few short hours...but surely, you can consummate the marriage now, right?

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); Alcohol Consumption; Drunk!Reader; Breeding Kink; Pleasure Dom!Gojo x sub!Reader; Daddy Kink; Degradation/Praise; Cunnilingus; Fingering; Spanking; Pussy Drunk!Gojo; Cum Drunk!Reader; No Condom; Multiple Positions; Multiple Os; Creampie; Breeding; L-Bombs; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: I was recently listening to Sabrina Carpetender (aka my new obsession) & her song "Juno" awakened something in me. Enjoy! -Jazz

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You’ve been feeling kind of….frisky lately. It’s kind of alarming.

Maybe it’s because you’re about to get married to the hottest man to ever exist.

The fact seemed to hit you like a truck the very moment you came home to your shared apartment, stumbled out of your shared Lyft with your girlfriend, and carried your tipsy self up the complex stairs to the hot, sexy man in question who was waiting for you upstairs.

You know this because you sent the guy about ten different attachments since you left to attend your own bachelorette party that your friends graciously threw for you. It included a wonderful dinner and a night at the club where you were introduced to some very drunk girls in the bathroom who teemed with excitement over your marriage and fruit-flavored vodka shots.

Pineapple. Mango. Sour green apple. Dragonfruit. The more you tasted, the more you drank, the more you sent your man very risque text messages and photos of you in your outfit for tonight's festivities.

He was very pleased, to say the least. He took no time to reply to each one, letting you know that he was thinking about you while you were out celebrating your new title as Ms. Gojo. You couldn't help but scroll through them while being driven home with Shoko falling asleep on your shoulder in the backseat:

You: *One Attachment Sent*

Tarou: You look GORGEOUS Have fun tonight wit the girls babby. 😘😘😘 Be careful. Call if u need me & DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS!!!

You: *Three Attachments Sent*

Tarou: You look so goddamn good in that babe  😩 😩 I'm so lucky wtf!! fuuuuck why aren't u home yet????

You: I'm in the bathroom lol

You: *Two Attachments Sent*

Tarou: U drunk??

Tarou: I like u drunk 🤭

You: 😩😩 You're nastyyyyy

You: why am I marrying you again??

Tarou: You like me nasty tho, don't you, boo? 🥺 That's why we're getting married

These are just some of the less dirty texts your fiancé sent you after you sent him many photos of your pretty face, cleavage, and ass in frame during a bathroom break, including one video of you shaking ass to a Rihanna song. The other ones are so damn lewd that they make you blush:

Tarou: I wish I was there with u, baby. I'd have you up against the wall by now.

Tarou: Babyyyy fuuuuuuck you're driving me fucking crazy. U better not be dancing with no guys

You: Never, Daddy.

Tarou: 👀👀 Daddy?????? Shit you're asking to get that pussy pounded aren't u?

You: Maybe.

Tarou: Get your ass home right now so I can fuck u out of that dress.

Tarou: Get home soon, sweetie. I'll be up when u get back ❤️

This was the last message he sent you that made you realize that it was finally time to get home...mostly because of what he attached to the message. You made the mistake of opening it up on the dance floor and nearly flashed your friends a photo of your fiancé's very pretty, very big, very thick, and uncut dick.

No matter how many times you saw your man's cock, you always seemed to be surprised by how beautiful it is. Your eyes roamed over the vein that trailed from the base to the bulbous, pink tip dripping in pre-cum for you. Gojo's big hand wrapped around the base, covering those heavy balls filled with cum that you desperately wanted.

Even thinking about it now has you hornier than you were at the club. You can hardly wait to get inside and get your hands on him. He may be asleep and you may damn well be out like a light by the time you get in.

But the heartthrob that has replaced your pussy and the wet spot in your lace panties persuade you differently.

You finally stumble over to your door and fish your keys out of your purse, taking about two minutes to focus on getting the right one and holding it in your fingers that don't seem to be listening to you.

Finally, you snag the door key, jab it into the lock, and unlock the door. There stands your beautiful man in a white tee, tight blue boxers, and the Cinnamaroll slippers that you bought him for Christmas as a joke but he still walks around the house in. He stands in the kitchen pouring two glasses of cold water when you enter.

He turns to you, standing in the dim light of the stove light, casting a soft, yellow glow against his handsome face and soft, porcelain skin. He smiles at you and his beauty is almost blinding. “Hey, you," he greets in that voice that makes you melt. “How was girls’ night?”

You silently come into the apartment and shut the door behind you. Your heels, high enough to make you feel sexy but low enough for you to walk and not feel like your feet are about to fall off, click across the floor as you strut towards him.

“You waited up for me.” You toss your purse onto the couch, already forgetting about it and everything else but him. Gojo has that effect on you. He somehow wipes your brain of all responsibilities, people, and things so all of its capacity is focused on him.

Gojo gives you a quizzical look, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Of course, I did. I said I would, didn't I?" You nod, your teeth caught between your bottom lip. "Plus, you know I can’t sleep without you next to me.”

And that sweet sentence is what pushes you to the point of breaking. All of your self-control vanishes and all that is left is buttery, warm arousal that makes your stomach flip and your pussy gush into your panties that have just about had it at this point.

"I figured you'd need this," Gojo chuckles, passing you a glass of water. You smile as you sip the water in thanks, your throat parched from the alcohol and constant dancing. You watch Gojo's Adam's Apple bob in his throat as he gulps down the water, your eyes zeroing in on his neck and imaging your fruity lip gloss coating it in kisses.

Then your eyes catch onto something else: a tiny KAY Jewelry box sitting by your apartment phone in the kitchen. The box that contains your 24k diamond ring with the band engraved with a message from Gojo: Always. Forever. Until the end of never with you, my love.

It is right where you left it tonight, afraid to put it on tonight and lose it. Even more afraid to lose it in your bedroom somewhere. It is a reminder of what you have now. Of who you are now: Gojo's fiancè. His soon-to-be wife. His woman.

Without a word, you lower the glass of water down onto the counter. Gojo notices and questionably stares at you, worry in his crystal blue eyes. You walk over to the box, pluck the ring out, and place it on your ring finger. Where it should be always.

You then turn to Gojo, take a hand, and slowly take his glass, placing it on the table. No distractions.

You finally close the gap between you and give in to your arousal, the alcohol, and Gojo's scent of charcoal body wash and cologne that he religiously sprays on himself after his showers. It is intoxicating. You want to roll yourself in it as you lace your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.

Gojo moans at the contact, pleasantly surprised by the surprise kiss. He kisses you back, pressing himself against you in an effort to be closer to you. You moan back to him in satisfaction and approval as he wraps his long, strong arms around your waist. You're so much tinier than him so he has to slightly bend his knees just to reach you.

His lips are soft and supple, drawing you in with every passing second. How you love these lips...and this body. Your hands indulge in him, cascading down his toned forearms and feeling up his chest. "Mmm," he moans into the kiss, pulling away.

His eyes are glittering with playfulness and adoration, his pillowy-soft lips flushed from the heated makeout. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” he chuckles. “Too much to drink?”

You giggle at his knowing smile. He absolutely knew beforehand that you were drunk judging from the onslaught of sexually-charged attachments you sent him earlier. You shake your head, hoping he can see the need in your eyes. The alcohol only lit a fire in you that only he can put out. “Not enough you,” you correct him.

As soon as the words are out, Gojo's pupils dilate and the air grows thick with sexual tension. His hands leave your waist to slide down your ass, grabbing it much to your enjoyment. "Is that so?" he teasingly asks, smiling at the way your breath hitches when he yanks you to him. You love it when he gets aggressive like that. "The feeling is mutual, babe."

He leans down to sweep your lips up in a kiss as heated and deep as the last one, inviting your lips and tongue on a journey with him that only he can take you on. You share spit with one another, swirling your tongues with each other's in a filthy dance that only you two know. You have to tighten your thighs to keep from possibly leaking onto the kitchen floor.

His strong, magical hands squeeze your ass, massaging the soft globes over your dress, making you weak in the knees. Thank God he is here because you would definitely be a puddle by now, your limbs suddenly made of jelly.

You've been kissing and touching this man for over FIVE YEARS, and yet you still melt like it's the first time you're doing either. You love this man. You adore this man. You want and need this man. "Satoru?" you softly whisper once you pull away from the kiss.

"Mmm-hmm," he hums in acknowledgment, his lips on your neck. You moan at the contact, tossing your head back and letting yourself smile as pleasure ripples across your skin. "You wanna know something?" you ask, your fingers lacing through his stark white locks.

"What's that, baby?" he questions, barely missing a beat as he kisses down your throat, nuzzling his nose into your neck to breathe in your perfume. You place your hands on his gorgeous face to gently pull him away from your neck. He finally stops, his eyes hooded and lips parted. "We officially get married in 24 hours," you whisper, unable to stop the excitement and joy from pooling in your voice.

You watch as Gojo's eyes widen an inch as if the realization just hit him too. His pink lips curl into a smile, flashing you his pearly whites. "We do," he replies, a slight giggle in his voice. "I'll be your husband."

"And I'll be your wife," you add, your thumbs stroking his cheeks. "And you know what your soon-to-be wife wants you to do tonight?" Your man's blue eyes darken, reminding you of the richest Bahamian oceans.

"What does my soon-to-be wife want, baby?" he asks, his voice growing lower and more hushed the hornier he gets. He presses his lips to one of your hands, kissing the inside of your palm. The fire inside of you flares hotter and brighter, desperate to be snuffed by him.

"I want you to fuck me, use me, and breed me by the end of tonight as much as you want. I want you to fill me up so much that all I know is your name and forget mine. I want you to make me yours and only yours." You press a soft yet needy kiss to his lips, gently sucking on his bottom lip and drawing a moan out of him. "That's what I want, 'Tarou," you softly sigh. "Will you please give it to me?"

It is an innate need. A dull ache has grown in your throbbing pussy that can only be soothed by the stretch and stroke of a cock, and then the warm gush of cum. You need to be bred by him. And him alone. You want him to lock you down and throw away the key, keeping you as his forever. You need to be his.

You can hardly believe that those filthy words came out of you. Gojo can't believe it either. He blinks in utter shock at your nasty suggestion, but then quickly, that shock vanishes and all that is left is the hot, sizzling stare of arousal.

"So my baby wants me to knock her up, huh?" he asks, the question so bold and so lewd that you blush. He chuckles, drawing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Well, why the fuck didn'tcha say so, honey? I would've done that to you as soon as you walked in here."

Suddenly, you are lifted off of the ground and placed firmly onto Gojo's waist, your legs and arms wound around him. You squeak at his strength and speed, the low effort it takes for him to lift you up off of your feet like you're a Disney princess and he is the prince who has come to sweep you off to your happily ever after.

A happily ever after that involves multiple orgasms and endless after-sex cuddling, of course.

"Not only are you feenin' for some dick, but also for my babies?" He tuts at you like you're a naughty pet that needs to be disciplined. "That's a shame. But nothing your man can't fix for you."

As the night wanes on in minutes that feel like endless hours, you finally get what you've been craving when you find yourself bent over the couch with your dress hiked up over your ass and Gojo greedily pulling your soddened panties down to your ankles. "Get this shit off," he huffs. "I've been dreamin' about this ass all fuckin' night."

SMACK!

"Oh!" The one-syllable word escapes you uncontrollably as Gojo's big hand comes down onto your ass. The sharp sting makes your pussy jump excitedly, especially when your behind begins to sting from the harsh contact. "Does my girl like that?" Gojo teasingly asks. You nod, whimpering.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his voice dripping with want. Again, you nod, and he spanks your ass again. SMACK! SMACK! The double attack makes your toes curl in your heels and your head spin.

"Damn, look at how wet this pretty pussy is!" Gojo laughs, ogling at the slick that stains your inner thighs. "You were just hoping your drunk ass would come home and I'd do this to you, weren't you?" You can't find the words to answer him.

Impatient, he grabs you and forces you to bend over his lap this time as he sits down on the couch, placing you right over his muscular thighs and hard bulge protruding from his briefs. SMACK! "Answer me," he growls, already lifting his hand for another assault on your ass. "Open that mouth up and give me an answer."

"Y-Yes!" you moan, your fingers stretching to grip his toned forearm. "Yes, I wanted this! I wanted you s-so bad, 'Tarou! All night long." And you did. You could only think about him at the club, wanting him so badly to be there to dance on and grind with under the lights.

"I would've been right there with you, baby," he sighs, stopping the assaults on your ass to grope, squeeze, and massage it. "Would've fucked you right there on the floor in this slutty little dress." He leans over to press wet kisses to your ass, soothing the stinging sensation coating your asscheeks.

You moan and whine at his kisses, unable to stop yourself from grinding your hips into his lap for relief. "G-Gojo," you gasp. "P-Please more. Give me more." Your fiancé sniggers at your impatience, but is just as in need for more as you are.

But once he has his long fingers between your thighs and caressing your wet slit, you find yourself looking forward to what "more" after this looks like for you. "O-Oh, fuck, 'Tarou!" you whine, lifting your hips up to allow more of his touch. His fingers brush against your clit, his fingertips gently rubbing the tiny bud to extract more of your cream from the source of your sobbing cunt.

"God, baby," he groans, watching in awe as his fingers coat with your juices. "You're givin' me so much. This poor girl's been so lonely tonight, hasn't she?" He coos in a way that makes your pussy gush even more, making it slippery enough for a finger to slide in while the other toys with your asshole.

"Ohhhh," you moan, the sound long and drawn out. Like it's been locked inside of you for too long. "Ohhh, yes," Gojo teasingly replies. "I know, mama. Feels good, don't it?" He curls his finger up in a way that stimulates that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. "It's okay, baby, I'm here. Just let go for me."

He continues to play with your clit and finger-fuck your pussy, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you finally cum all around his finger and all over his lap. "Oh, fuck!" you gasp, giving him those sweet moans as you explode all over him, drenching his boxers and his thighs in your mess.

"Aw, baby!" he mockingly tuts. "Now look what you did." He forces you to sit up, your hair a mess and your brain foggy from your orgasm. "You've made a big mess," he sighs, motioning over his thighs sticky with your cum. "Guess I'll have to get rid of these then."

He stands and turns to face you, giving you a front-row seat at the beauty hanging between his thighs. Once his briefs are down and kicked off, along with his slippers, he strips off his shirt, revealing his gorgeous, muscled body, silvery happy trail, and pink, pierced nipples in need of sucking.

You reach out to touch him, feel him, hold him, but he steps out of your reach, smirking at your whimper. "Ah-ah, greedy girl," he criticizes. "Not yet. You still gotta give Daddy what he wants before he gives you what you need."

That means you need to cum again. And eventually, you feel the urge to do so again when Gojo has his face in your pussy while he kneels between your legs, his big hands grasping your thighs to pry them apart. He licks and laps at you like you're his last meal until further notice, his tongue strokes quick yet precise. He seems to nail the spot every single time.

"Oh, God, yes!" you moan, your voice reaching full volume as you writhe your hips against his magical mouth, his nose nudging against your clit. "God, Satoru, fuck yes! You're so good!"

The blue-eyed stud stares at you intensely between the V of your legs, sucking gently on your clit. With a wet pop, he pulls away, pride in his eyes and his smile. "Yeah? Your man makin' you feel good?" You frantically nod, needing more. "Tell me all about it, baby," he murmurs. "Lemme make you cum so I can really show you what 'good' is."

Then he's diving back in, his tongue licking along your slit before dipping into your wet hole as his nose swipes against your clit again and again like a maxed-out credit card, pushing you right past the point of ecstasy. The sounds that escape him are sloppy and juicy, his wet colliding with your even-wetter pussy.

It doesn't take long for your second orgasm to crest, making you feel like a balloon that has been filled with too much air. "Satory, I'm about to cum," you warn, your words laced with moans and gasps. Your man moans into your pussy, still eating away. "Mmm-hmm," he encourages you, desperate to taste you. "Uh-huh, cwum. Cwum for me, bwaby."

Overtaken by his voice and his touch, you let your second orgasm wash over you, drawing loud moans out of you that would embarrass you if you weren't drunk from the vodka or Gojo's tongue. The shivers that take hold of your body are intense, making you trash and buck against Gojo's mouth as he cleans you up.

But you can't focus on them for long. Not when Gojo is standing up between your legs and looking down at you like that, eyes hooded and lips shining in your juices. "I need to fuck you now, baby," he says, his voice hushed and low. "And when I do, I'm gonna cum inside of you. No condom. Is that okay?"

He presses a hand to your cheek, softly running a thumb over your cheek. Is that okay? Is grass green? Are you getting married tomorrow? "Yes," you whisper, never meaning the word more than when you agreed to his proposal. "I need you too, 'Tarou. Please fuck me, Daddy."

Gojo visibly shivers, taken over by your response. After giving you a deep and passionate kiss where you taste yourself off of his tongue, he wraps a hand around his cock and feeds it into your pussy, inch by inch, taking it slow.

You gasp and your eyes grow wide, feeling yourself stretch around his length. Despite you taking him so many times before, each time feels better and more intense than the last. And without the condom, you can feel all of him—every vein, ridge, bump, and patch of soft, velvety skin stretching around his shaft.

Gojo's face is as beautiful as the moon in the inky sky in front of you, his expression twisted in pleasure as he rocks his hips into you. "God, you feel amazing," he groans, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. "N-Need...ah, fuck! Needed you all night like this."

"M-Me too!" you gasp, grasping his shoulders for dear life as his hips bump into you, sending tendrils of pleasure into your clit that travel up your body. "More, Satoru! Give it to me, baby, please!"

A groan of lost restrain escapes Gojo as he bends down to capture your lips in a sloppy tongue kiss as he rocks into you a little faster, a little deeper, filling you with his cock with every passing second. He fucks you into the couch, bending your knees so he can settle between them, nearly mounting you.

Oh, he gives it to you. He gives it to you all night, as much as you want. As much as you can take in that poor little pussy.

He finishes taking you on the couch, not stopping until your cumming all over his cock and staring deep into his eyes as you do it, your pussy persuading him to cum deep inside of you.

He fucks you on the floor, your little body bouncing on top of him as his hips thrust up to meet yours, his hands grasping and massaging your tits as his thick cock sinks into your wet folds and velvety walls again and again until you spill your cream all over him.

He fucks you up against the wall, your body flush against his, trapped between him and the wall as he babbles about how "fucking good" your pussy is and "oh, fuck yes yes, yes"s as he slams balls deep into you.

He carries you upstairs despite the vigorous activity to your shared bedroom and continues to fuck you there, forcing you to bend over for him. His thrusts are rough and deep now, his hands gripping your ass so tight that you're sure he'll leave bruises. Each thrust of his dick in you is agonizing, taking you to a place of euphoria that is so intense that it's almost painful.

"Ah, ah, oh, fuck yes, yes!" You can't make out any words longer than those as Gojo's cum-filled balls slap against your clit, combined with the immense pleasure you're giving yourself by rubbing it in time with his quick thrusts.

"Fuck, look at you," Gojo grunts, staring down at the way you look taking his big cock. "Lookin' so goddamn cute bouncin' on me like that. Keep it up, babe, 'cause I'm about to cum soon."

Oh, thank God! You were waiting for this. You were hoping so much that the night would end with you cumming all over his cock for the last time when he finally spills his seed inside of you, filling you with his babies. Making forever a reality.

"Go ahead!" you beg, shouting above the loud bedsprings bouncing from Gojo's vigorous fucking and skin slapping against skin. "Cum inside me, baby. Fill me up. I need it so bad!" Gojo yanks you onto your knees and presses himself against you, sinking deeper into you. "Tell me again," he demands in your ear. "Tell me you need this."

It's so hard to do while the man is ramming into you and knocking your brain out of your skull, but you find the willpower to do it anyway. "I need this!" you damn near sob, overcome with intensity and emotion as he wraps his arms tight around you, locking you up in him. "I need you to cum in me, 'Tarou! Need you to give it to me!"

"Yeah?" he teasingly asks, sucking on your earlobe. "You need my cum, baby girl? You want these fuckin' kids, huh?" He tosses you down again and forces your ass up in the air, giving it a sharp spank. "Then get ready 'cause you're about to get it all."

You thought you were getting fucked before? Well, Gojo proves that you haven't. He shifts into an entirely different being as he ruts into you like a machine, his hips pistoning into you, his cock throbbing, pulsing, and finally, finally...

"Oh, fuck!" he bellows, his voice ricocheting off of the walls of your cozy bedroom as he fills you to the brim with all of him. You gasp as his spunk fills you, spilling into your pussy, bringing with it a warm, gushing sensation that triggers your own orgasm. "That's it!" he groans, encouraging you with his quick thrusts. "Cum with me, baby! Fuckin' give it to me!"

You have no choice but to. With your head in the pillow and your ass hiked up in the air, you explode all over Gojo's cock as streams of cum continue to enter you. His thrusts slow to deep rocks of his hips as he fucks the cum into you, making sure that none of it slips out until it is time for him to pull out. "G-Gotta make sure," he pants. "Make sure you're nice an' knocked up for me."

Knocked up. Locked down. Filled to the brim. You're all three of these things, you realize, as you lay on the bed, weakly moaning as Gojo continues to stroke your poor, sore pussy in the bed. When he is finally done, he slowly pulls out of you, moaning with you at the loss and as your pussy gushes his and your mixed release.

"Don't move, mama," he coos. "Lemme clean ya up." He leans down between your legs and gently laps at your cum, paying close attention to your puffy lips and your clit, knowing how sensitive both are from the activity.

When he finally finishes, he gently takes your exhausted form and sits on the bed with you curled into his lap, the both of you sweaty and exhausted but supremely satisfied and spent. You press a hand to his heart where your engagement ring glitters back at you, the diamonds winking in the moonlight cutting into the bedroom.

Moonlight that shines in the blue eyes that stare down at you in utter adoration, holding promises of more hot sex, more cuddling, and endless love. "I love you, wifey," he murmurs, nuzzling your neck.

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I love you too...husband." You test the word out on your tongue, deciding that you love how it sounds. It sounds so right. "I can't wait to have a little me running around here."

Gojo pulls away to stare down at you, glowering and pouting those pink lips at you. "Ya mean a little me," he corrects you. You two stare at each other in silence for a moment before you both erupt into laughter that nearly hurts.

"Yeah...a little you would be cute too," he giggles before he attacks you with kisses and snuggles that have you falling deeper and deeper in love with him. "But two of me would be cute, dontcha think, baby? C'mon, you've gotta admit-"

"Shut up," you huff.

THE END.