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#i had a lot of time to kill so these are so fun to answer awaaaa
toomuchracket · 2 days
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i picture bday party girlie as being like Dramatically hot like the kind of hot where you can literally see heads turning when she walks past… so hot that everyone is like how did He bag Her???
and then flatmate is a girl next door kind of vibe like definitely gorgeous but where hot wouldn’t necessarily be the first descriptor until you see her let loose and you’re suddenly like i would kill myself for one night with her lol.
d word… drop-dead. like ur a goner the second you lay eyes on her. she gives cunty miniskirt and sunglasses strutting through london with her obsessed bf on her arm vibes.
office girlie i think i would beg her to be mean to me and i would like it but also she’d be my best friend. sheer tights and thick thighs and a leather blazer ohh i need her
barista girlie hallway crush… girl you get obsessed with because you always see her around and you can’t believe someone’s that gorgeous but you never go up to her
this didn’t really answer your question bc i think they’re all incredibly hot in different ways but if i Had to pick i think d word is the hottest <3
- heather 🫶
long post we r discussing everyone
the thing about bday party girly is that getting to that level of hotness was a gradual thing - not full ugly duckling transformation, because you were always pretty, but just finding your way in terms of fashion and beauty and discovering the styles you liked best and that suited you really well, and that did wonders for your confidence (which i think is like half the battle of hotness). but it still wavers, and you have a hard time with comparison to others (specifically, the girls you see matty with before you get together) and believing in yourself in regard to anything that isn't your writing ability; this is a leftover from your teenage years, where you'd only ever really get complimented on your brain and your writing and never on your looks, which you know isn't a big deal and it's nice people think you're smart but also... sometimes, when you're 16, you need to hear from someone that isn't your mum or your girls that you look nice lol. but you persevered with both writing and the style search, and it worked out well - one of the first things matty said when you guys were first introduced was "i've read your work! and i don't think it's fair that writing so good can come from someone so attractive. not fair at all", and when you realised that there was no punchline, that he actually meant it (he really did. he thought you were gorgeous)... yeah. we know what happened next
flatmate YES ok like you really are just so pretty and (as we know from pre dating flatmate era) a lot of people think that as is and they fancy you BUT like you said it isn't until you loosen up or you get kinda animated that it really sinks in how sexy you actually are. like, matty's already excited to be sat next to you the first time you meet, but it isn't until you roll your eyes and say something sarky and smirk that he properly becomes enamoured; when you're yapping with some other people during a break and you start ripping into a boy who said something really stupid or mean or whatever... yeah, matty's a goner (he really would kill himself for one night with you lol). such a fun couple, the two of you, because you're both aware of how hot you are - i mean, you both have your moments of insecurity, we all do, but you're generally very self-assured. and it's hot to see. very
d word... so fucking true. and you don't know it! you're too busy doing 5 million things at once to pay attention to people Wanting you, and all your self-care beauty regimes/pilates/buying nice clothes is really for nobody but yourself, because - eldest daughters rise up - you're really the only person who takes care of you. and then matty happens, and you like him so much you let your guard down a bit and relax, and suddenly you have someone else who takes care of you so naturally it's kinda overwhelming, someone else who makes a point of proving to you just how beautiful you are, someone else you want to look nice for, someone else who loves you and appreciates you and is almost unhealthily obsessed with you; he's never not clinging to you, as if you'll disappear the second he lets you go, and never not looking at you like you're the most precious thing in the world. you kinda are, to him, though
office girly - coolest person alive i fear. kinda like flatmate in that you know you're hot, even without the myriad of incredible outfits you've painstakingly put together; i do think you're the best dressed of the tmr girls, actually. anyway! THE body - soft curves, long legs (thick thighs save lives), hips that matty wants to (and has, actually) take a bite of, possibly the best arse in london, and we've all read tiny bikini so we know what your boyfriend thinks about your tits lol. there's a running joke in your relationship that the reason matty (art critic) fancies you is because you're built like the girls in Classical art, which he denies like "not true! you have nicer boobs" lmfao little freak. people are a little bit surprised when the two of you get together, because he's so shy and quiet and weird and you aren't, but holy shit do you look good together - i think you skew slightly on the edgy side of the fashion scale, so literally you and matty (when he loses the cardigans) are kinda the hot alt couple everyone dreams about. also yes heather she would be your best friend she's so sound!!
barista girly is very reminiscent of the girl who got on the same tube as me at westminster station a year ago and had a striped shirt tucked into flared jeans and pointed stilettos on and the most flawless straightened ponytail i have ever seen - chic as fuck, and you see her on public transport ONCE and think about her forever. intimidating, but so alluring, and if anyone actually plucked up the courage to talk to you they would learn you're lovely and also kinda a massive flirt; that is, until you meet someone you really REALLY like (matty) and you get really quite shy and soft. that said, before you meet him, you do Fuck (people of all genders), and actually you (and your strap) are responsible for a really quite massive amount of Best Sexual Encounter stories, so you're very known for being sexy lol - incredible energy matching going on between you and matty, actually. like, it should technically be a sad day for everyone else when you and matty get together, but you just work so well and look so incredible together that everyone's like. yeah ok this makes sense. yeah, you're gorgeous
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teecupangel · 2 days
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Just had an idea that developed XD: How OP could we make Desmond without giving him godlike powers thanks to the Grand Temple device?
My suggestion? Give him Spidermans powers. Climbing walls, spider sense, super senses, healing factor etc. You could also add stuff that Spiderman wouldn't use, due to his "No killing" rule, like powerful venom and fangs and those arm pincers that Spiderman apperantly had in the comics for a while.
He would be the perfect Assassin. XD
We could also easily set it up too. Maybe Hydra or Oscorp are looking to make a super soldier/recreate Spiderman and this random man shows up without any ID? Perfect test subject! It would also be hard to escape as they would account for super powers with the security, so Desmond ends up rescued by the Avengers+Spiderman.
Just an idea i had and i'm curious to how you would make him OP. ^^
So I’ve been reading a lot of manwha for years now and it definitely shaped my answer to how we can make Desmond OP.
Information.
Whether this means what Desmond would know about what’s going to happen because this is a time travel/regression/transmigration setup or if this is a case of the Apple giving him the information he needs, Desmond could use that information to his advantage, both to amass large amount of money or to do what he wants to do.
If we combine my idea of an OP power and your idea of giving him OP Spiderman power, the next step is obvious.
Desmond is a comic book nerd who got isekai (or transmigrated) into a Spiderman world.
The problem is… which Spiderman world is this???
Should he be looking for Peter Parker?
How was he so sure that this world’s Spiderman is Peter Parker?
Oh god, what if it’s those Spiderman movies instead???
Should he look for anyone that looks like Tobey Macguire?
Hell, it could have been the new one with Andrew Garfield.
There was too many of them to count!
And it is during his ‘hunt’ for Spiderman (because at the very least, he believes Spiderman might listen to him) that he gets abducted by Hydra/Oscorp/whichever evil corporation you wanna use.
His blood was meant to be used to test for variations of the super soldier serum but Desmond isn’t a damsel in distress and he tries to escape.
During the escape, he gets into an accident (whether he gets bit by one of the plot spiders or maybe he’s nicked somewhere and the Spiderman serum prototype gets into an open wound) during his escape and starts to exhibit the same powers of Spiderman.
And that is the least of his worries because he is an Assassin through and through so he did what any Assassin would do when they’re abducted by an obviously evil corporation.
Kill everyone in the facility while finding out names of other targets to take them out in the future.
And…
Well…
Massacring an entire facility isn’t really a good resume for the superheroes in this world.
.
Desmond thinks the new Spiderman movie is Amazing Spiderman starring Andrew Garfield because that would be the latest Spiderman he’d watch (2012)
Up to you which Superman/Marvel story he did end up with. It might be fun to keep it vague, keep Desmond guessing lollol.
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jils-things · 6 months
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🖇️🦋👛🪽 + anyone u want!! ^_^
hallu arwa 🥺🥺 tenkyu for the ask hehe since i pretty much covered stevaide on the others I will do redjaide here yippee!!!
🖇️ — what are your pet names for your f/o’s? what are their pet names for you?
omfg. jaide will literally throw any goofy name at him but she ultimately loves calling him boo its the perfect silly name for a silly girl real real. unfortunately i cannot say what would red call her because...
1) he's selectively mute so he wouldn't say it too much? (he's comfortable verbally talking to her but usually is quiet ykyk it's just like blue's case who red is best friends with)
2) i think he's too embarrassed to even bother....
🦋 — what kind of dates do you and your f/o’s go on?
as long as red gets to be with jaide - any day he gets to hang out with her is a date :]] quality time is very important to him! for jaide, she enjoys shopping with him! though the type of stuff she shops for is actually just pkmn equipment and necessities (poke.balls, healing equipment, etc) but she gets VERY excited about pokeb.alls and its variety of options (she is a diehard devon corp fan...)
👛 — what kind of gifts does/do your f/o’s give you?
as silly as it sounds i think red likes giving her anything he finds cool (a small flower on the grass? a bracelet? anything that could maybe pique her interest). he's not good with words so the least he can do is give her something to say "hey, this looks nice. i think you might like it".
🪽 — what is/are you and your f/o’s trope(s)?
cracks my KNUCKLES.
- tall and short (6'0 vs 5'4)
- sun and moon personalities (HAH FUNNY BECAUSE HE APPEARS IN SUN AND MO-)
- quiet and loud
- childhood friends to lovers 🥺🥺🥺
- whatever the fuck m.anolo and maria got going /JJJJJJ JJJJJJJOKE
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blujayonthewing · 1 year
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❤️,🧠,🍀 for the ask meme! Take your pick of whomth, I’m curious about everyone :3
❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?
One of Elyss's best memories was getting to meet and hold her newborn niece for the first time! Elyss has been incredibly isolated for her entire life, with (some of) her family being her strongest (and, until very recently, her only) connections in the world, and her brother Max is her best friend and most beloved person. His wife had their daughter, Emily, when Elyss was out living alone in the woods, but she knew roughly when the baby was due and came home pretty shortly after she was born. Holding her was the most pure distilled moment of joy and love Elyss has ever experienced to date. Em is about five now, and Elyss would do absolutely anything in the world for her.
🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?
Elyss is very intense, bad with people, and sometimes ruthlessly true neutral, but at the core of almost everything about her is overwhelming love, and a largely unfulfilled desire to be loved. It makes her incredibly compelling to me, and is the source of a lot of her conflict both within herself and with the rest of the world. She prefers to think things through very carefully and act logically and rationally, but she's fundamentally ruled by her emotions and they often get the better of her decision-making in ways that confuse and frustrate her. She craves connection with others, but doesn't know how to forge or maintain relationships, and is so used to social rejection that she has a hard time even recognizing affection when it is there. Like... she's probably my most straightforwardly violent OC but JUST under the surface SO much of her story has been about love and acceptance, or lack thereof, and what she's willing to do out of love for others (almost anything) and I'm so incredibly soft about it
🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?
Elyss was my first 5e character; she was only supposed to be a one-shot character at a weekend get-together with friends, and we built our characters that weekend with free resources and without a lot of prep ahead of time. This is relevant for two reasons: one, I always wanted to play a ranger, and I'd envisioned having an animal companion, but I ended up being sick for most of one of those days and didn't have enough time to wanna have to mess with looking up animal stats and mechanics on top of everything else; and two, the app we were using to quickly build characters listed genasi as a race, and when I found out that was the elementally-aligned race I instantly got the mental image of a character whose skin naturally looked like it was underwater with light rippling though and went OH YEP I'M DOING THAT. Otherwise, a lot of her initial characterization was inspired by me being interested in nature and in wilderness survival, and imagining a person who had spent most of their life alone in the woods building their entire personality and philosophy on life by watching the way the natural world works (and, consequently, not having any social skills because they were never around people).
Ask about my OCs?
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 
SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .
Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
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Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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ladysharmaa · 4 months
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New life
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Anthony has an argument with his wife, who is from a lower class, when she makes a mistake while promenading with Anthony
(gif is not mine)
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Y/n felt like a fish out of water. She didn't grow up in the privileged life that her husband, Anthony, had. Of course her life wasn't bad either, so many others had it worse than her. Y/n was the daughter of well-known merchants, and despite their busy lives where she had to start working as a child to help her family, she was grateful for everything she had.
And then everything changed. Y/n was used to having to speak louder, wipe her hands on her old skirt after touching someone's dirty money, and do manual labor. Until one day, Viscount Bridgerton saw her, and it was love at first sight. A love that was rejected by both for too long.
Anthony was the one who gave in first. He started going to her parents' stall more often, buying things he didn't even need and that others could do for him just so he could look at Y/n. It was indisputable that there was a connection between them. Anthony insisted that they couldn't ignore how they felt about each other, but the girl was afraid. A daughter of merchants marrying into the upper class? It could only go wrong, and to make matters worse it would ruin the reputation of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony made her feel things she never thought she would feel.
Her parents, upon realizing what was happening, warned her of the dangers, but they just wanted to see their daughter happy. In the end, Y/n ended up confessing her love for Bridgerton when he came to her stall saying it would be the last time if she wanted it. Instead of answering him, Y/n took his hand, taking him to an isolated place, where no one could see them, and pulled him into a passionate kiss.
Now, six months after they got married and were living a very happy life together, Y/n was still trying to learn the rules of society. It was a work in progress, and Anthony's mother and sisters helped Y/n a lot, explaining everything she could and couldn't do. There was so much information that she often just followed her instinct, ending up breaking some rules. Fortunately, she had just been among family and hadn't had to listen to anyone's judgment.
It wasn't easy being thrown into high society, dressed in the best dresses that she tried her best not to get dirty, speaking softly, and letting the maids do everything for her. But she would do anything for Anthony, and now she had a lifestyle that many would kill for. She couldn't complain.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It was a sunny day and so, Y/n and Anthony decided to promenade through the park, taking the opportunity to go on a small boat trip. Everything was going well, the woman had fun touching the crystal clear water and watching the fish that fled quickly while Anthony, who was responsible for the physical work, smiled in amusement.
So, they decided to end their afternoon with one last walk through the park to enjoy the last rays of sun, Y/n's hand on Anthony's arm. Y/n was telling him for the thousandth time how excited she was to go play pall mall the next day with the rest of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony never complained and listened attentively and patiently.
But the couple's peace was ruined when a little in front of them, a woman who Y/n quickly recognized as Earl Harrison's wife, was shouting at a maid. She was already old, and was on her knees on the floor trying to clean the woman's expensive dress. People were sending them looks and Y/n felt fury run through her veins when no one intervened, allowing that maid to be basically humiliated in a public square.
She took a step forward, but was pulled back by Anthony, who was holding her hand while sending her a look. "We have nothing to do with this. It's better not to get involved."
Y/n frowned, shaking her head in denial. "No. I'm sorry, Anthony, but I can't do this. But I promise I'll control myself." She then added in a whisper, "If she doesn't irritate me."
"Y/n…"
But Anthony didn't have time to finish his sentence because his wife was already putting on a fake smile, approaching that scene. "Excuse me, what is happening?"
"Lady Bridgerton, look!" the Countess exclaimed while pointing at her maid as if she were an inferior being, noting that she was waiting for Y/n to take her side. "I came to have a picnic on this beautiful day, but this incompetent woman dropped the cake on my dress. It was my favorite!"
"You sound like a child." Y/n said truthfully, not caring about the gasps heard. Anthony sighed behind her.
"Countess Harrinson, I tripped over a stone. My deep apologies, it won't happen again." the maid, still kneeling on the floor, whimpered. The woman rolled her eyes and gave her a small kick, forcing her to move away.
"It won't happen again because you're not coming back with me. I don't accept mistakes, especially like this." The Countess said coldly, while Viscountess Bridgerton became redder and redder with anger.
"But I—"
"You know, Countess Harrinson, she won't be coming back to you because she's going to work for Viscount Bridgerton. We'd be happy to have you,…"
"Mary." the maid said, putting her hands to her face and crying. "My apologies. Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. That's very kind of you."
"How dare you!" the Countess exploded in anger. "You just disrespected Earl Harrinson's wife." Anthony's wife continued to look at her indifferently. The other mumbled in frustration, "I'm going to destroy your family's reputation."
"I'd like to see you try." she narrowed her eyes, not looking away from her until the Countess was already well away from them, the other maids hurrying after her. However, the crowd that formed stayed in the exact same place.
"Y/n, what do you think you're doing?" Anthony hissed. "We shouldn't have intervened."
"You can't really expect me to leave her here on the floor. Just because she's a maid doesn't deserve to be treated like this." Y/n snapped angrily at her husband, helping the poor woman to get up from the floor.
"I'm not saying she deserves it." he growled, he too beginning to get unnerved. "But you can't talk to an Earl's wife like that. This is a hierarchy, Y/n."
"If I see someone being mistreated, you can be sure that I will speak however I want to whoever I want."
"Watch it." Anthony warned with his jaw clenched. He looked around, noticing that they were attracting even more looks and attention. People were already starting to murmur among themselves, and Anthony was sure it wouldn't take long for rumors to spread. "Stop it and we'll talk at home."
"Don't treat me like I'm the insolent one." Y/n hissed, pulling her arm away when Anthony tried to pull her closer to him.
The maid seemed to be increasingly panicked, now being the cause of an argument between the Bridgerton couple, who were well known in society. On the other hand, the woman was quite touched by Y/n's kind gesture. In the midst of such an aggressive society, there were people with pure hearts who were not afraid to defend what they believed in.
"We'll talk at home then, Lord Bridgerton." Y/n ended up saying after a few long tense moments in which the two exchanged glares. She straightened her dress and started to walk, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at the maid who was hesitant to follow. "Come on, Mary, when we get to the mansion I'll introduce you to the rest of our maids who I'm sure will help you settle in."
The atmosphere was tense throughout the carriage ride. Anthony and Y/n continued to avoid talking, knowing that an argument would immediately begin. Instead, he seemed to be caught up in his thoughts while his wife was busy talking to Mary, who slowly seemed to be starting to relax.
When the carriage finally stopped, although they were angry with each other, the Bridgerton got out first to help Y/n out, as she was quite clumsy and it wouldn't be the first time she almost fell out of the carriage in her long dresses. .
"My office. We need to talk." he said in a low voice into Y/n's ear who nodded.
"Juliet." the Viscountess Bridgerton called one of the maids. "This is Mary. Please show her her duties and introduce her to the rest of the people. Make sure she feels welcome."
"Of course, Lady Bridgerton."
Finally, the couple was alone, but spirits seemed to still be high. Anthony continued to be frustrated with Y/n because she didn't realize that there was a hierarchy in society, and they couldn't do everything they wanted, or it would harm not only them but the entire family. On the other hand, Y/n felt that Anthony was supporting social injustice, and that no human being should be treated badly just because they are from a lower social class.
"If you're waiting for me to apologize, I won't."
"I'm hoping you realize the gravity of what you just did." Anthony snapped, running a hand over his face with a sigh. "No matter how much it costs you, you have to respect this society and its rules!"
"But I don't agree with these rules!"
"I don't care about that!" the man exploded, not seeing how Y/n flinched. They had never argued like this. Obviously, they had already disagreed on some issues, but never to the point of raising their voices. "You were selfish! Everything you do affects you and all of us. You have to stop thinking only about yourself!"
"Selfish?" Y/n muttered, looking at her husband with a frown. Those words seemed to be like a knife in her heart.
"Did it occur to you that Francesca is going to start her season in a few months? Now surely all the suitors will know about this family's reputation. That we don't respect hierarchy. That I married someone who has nothing to do with this lifestyle."
Y/n's eyes filled with tears. Her voice was shaking, but she tried to keep herself in control, "Well, I'm sorry that I let you down. It wasn't my intention, Lord Bridgerton. I'm sorry that you married someone who wasn't supposed to be here, living with all this money and stupid rules of etiquette. But I will always do what I think is right. Because unlike you, I know what it's like to be looked down upon by the upper classes."
Anthony looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing several times. "Wait, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I don't regret marrying you."
"It doesn't matter what you meant. Really, you should have married someone who was already into this lifestyle, who knew what the hell they were doing. I'm trying, I swear." Some tears fell. "But it's difficult. And dealing with these people, who think they are superior to others, I can't do it."
"Y/n…"
"But you're right. I should have thought about your family. Your siblings could be harmed by what I did, and that was the last thing I wanted. My apologies for that, I will make sure I fix this."
"No, no." the Bridgerton man said, looking desperately at the woman. The woman who gave up her life to marry him, and has tried hard every day to adapt. And here he is, who instead of helping her criticizes her for defending what she believes in. "You're not going to do anything because there's nothing to fix."
"You don't need to say that, I already realized I made a mistake."
"But you didn't, I did. I let myself be influenced by everything that is wrong in this society, and that's why I'm disappointed in myself. But you, my beautiful kind wife, just did what was right, and I'm proud of you. You are not selfish, god you are nothing like that. You do so much for this family, I don't know what came over me to say something as barbaric as that."
"Anthony…" Y/n sighed, not knowing what to say. Her husband, in turn, seemed to have relaxed when Y/n finally called him by his name and not his title.
"I love you. I married you because I love who you are and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want our children to be as kind as you, and we can raise them to be good people, who help others. I'm sorry for the way I treated you."
Y/n remained silent but let a small smile appear on her face. Anthony also realized that they were better off with each other and took a step forward.
"I will kneel and beg for your forgiveness."
"What are you waiting for?" she teased.
Although she wasn't expecting it, Anthony actually lowered himself to his knees at her feet, looking at her in amusement but also with sincerity. "My apologies, Lady Bridgerton. I will not repeat my mistakes again. I love you and how fierce you are. Now, will you please forgive me?"
"I don't know, Anthony, maybe I need something more convincing." she said, closing her eyes when she felt her husband lift her dress a little to place small kisses on her legs.
"I'm all yours, Y/N. For the rest of my days."
2K notes · View notes
dreaisgrayte · 3 months
Text
Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3
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“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?
He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 
It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 
Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 
When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 
“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 
You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 
Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 
Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 
Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 
“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.
The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 
It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 
You worked under a beautiful tayū and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 
Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 
He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 
You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 
“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 
You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 
Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 
She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 
The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 
He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 
You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 
His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 
You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 
A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 
He tears your yukata to shred, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.
Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? He needed to find you or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs, and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 
Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 
The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?
With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 
It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cunt into your pretty tight pussy. 
“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 
“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 
He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 
You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” You mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 
“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 
“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 
He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 
Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 
Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 
Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 
Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 
The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 
“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 
Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 
“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 
Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 
The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 
Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 
He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 
Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 
“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 
“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 
You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 
“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 
Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.
Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 
“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 
This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.
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highvern · 3 months
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Drive Me Crazy
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: smut
warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating
Length: ~3.7k
Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness
summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 
“Uhhh—”
“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”
“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 
“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”
“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.
You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”
“That’s fucked up.”
The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”
“There’s more?”
“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”
“Like?”
“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”
“What?”
“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 
“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 
“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.
You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”
“I’m not a kidnapper!”
“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.
“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.
He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried but you talk a lot.” 
Another good point.
“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”
“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”
You balk. “That’s so sad.” 
“Yeah, I’m aware.”
“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”
“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”
If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 
There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 
He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.
“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 
“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.
“Ugh…” he hesitates. 
“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”
“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”
“Because?”
He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”
“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.
Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”
“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”
“What a bitch.”
“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”
“I have no idea, complete stranger.”
“Like hand stuff.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”
Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.
He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.
“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 
“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”
“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”
“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 
“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”
“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”
“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”
“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”
“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”
“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”
“You’re not wrong,” he says. 
Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.
Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.
Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.
You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.
It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.
Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.
“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”
“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”
“The world is full of mysteries.”
“My name is Jungkook by the way.”
Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.
“Y/N.”
You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.
His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 
You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 
“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.
“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.
Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.
You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”
“No.” 
A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”
“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 
You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 
“Seriously?” he marvels.
“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”
“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 
You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.
He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”
“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.
“Too late now.”
You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”
He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.
“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.
“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 
Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.
“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 
“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 
“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”
An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 
“O-oh,” you hitch.
Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 
He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 
“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 
He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 
"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.
"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 
“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”
He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.
“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”
“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”
You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”
“Sorry, a pussy.”
“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”
Pointed silence is answer enough.
“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”
He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 
“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 
“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.
"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."
One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 
The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.
And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.
“Oh–fuck me, god.”
It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.
He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.
“Can I—” he asks around your clit.
“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”
A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.
“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 
You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.
Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 
“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 
You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.
“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.
His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 
“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 
“I-it’s okay.”
You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”
Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”
“Really?” you ask in awe.
Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”
He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 
Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.
When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 
“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.
“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”
The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes
@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29
@luvseungcheol @crisle19
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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bluerosefox · 5 months
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Invites
"OMA, kill meeeee" Ellie, aka Wrath complained as she allowed her head to 'thunk' on the cafeteria table in the Watchtower she phased into in order to sit in next to a boy dressed in red, yellow, and green.
"Aren't you already halfway there?" Came Robin's response as he took a drink of his water, eyeing his teammate with a raised eyebrow, though it was difficult to tell with his mask in place.
"OMA?" Asked Superboy on the other side of the boy.
"Shush you." She said towards Robin before answering Superboy "Oh my Ancients, it's like OMG but like for us ghosties."
"Tt" "Oh!" Came both their responses.
"So..." began Superboy after a few minutes of silence between them as he looked at Ellie like a confused puppy "Why?"
Ellie groaned and just stayed slumped on the table as she said "Da's dumb Observants council is hosting another dumb ball to try to get him or me hitched again, and like always I'm forced to attend because I'm Da's heir. We both hate it with a passion, most are just stuck up, power hungry, social climbers trying to get into our pants for the royal titles... Espcially if they become our Forevermores."
"Tt, why not just get rid of them? Or simply have your Father dismiss the ball." Robin said, his eye twitching in annoyance just at the thought of it. A ball sounded even more annoying than the gala parties he is made to go to.
"Sounds stressful... Also Forevermores?" Superboy asked, he was always curious of Ellie and her ghost culture but never knew what could be asked or not, he had been warned to never ask how a ghost died after all and that question is normally asked in every ghost hunter video on the internet.
"Forevermores is our term for the ONE. The one and only we will ever be with. Till our final end takes us we are always to be with them only. We are core creatures and bonding on that level is like sacred, we don't rush into bonding like that though. But everyone in the Realms hopes to be either become mine or Da's. And the ball is their best chance at meeting us on neutral grounds." Ellie explained as best as she could for Jon, it was hard trying to explain the type of level a Forevermore was "And to answer you Robin, Da can't. The Observants, despite how annoying they can get with their dumb demands, are part of the system council for the Realms, they're sadly needed to keep things in check hence their name. Da and his friends are still trying to find a loophole to get rid of them though. They were only created when they put Tyrant King to sleep and they still sadly have some backings from other powerful ghosts in the Realms, even an Ancient or two and in order to fully dismiss them we need all Ancients on board. And the ball keeps a lot of ghosts, especially the more powerful ones, errr I guess happy? Most just use it to gossip on neutral grounds, others just like to dance, network, or other junk like that. Basically, when it's not about them trying to get mine or Da's hand in ghost marriage, it's fun so Da can't dismiss it, it'll ruffle to many feathers."
"Wow..." "Tt." Were the response from her teammates.
"Yeah. Da really isn't happy because someone suggested inviting powerful people from a few Mortal Realms this time. Somehow it got approved. So... here." She said as she reached into her own chest, phasing her hand in, and pulled out two green envelopes and placed them on the table in front of them. Both boys stared in surprise to see their names written in dark purple ink and the stylized DP on it.
"CW let me invite you guys personally. Everyone else should be getting theirs in about a few minutes complete with a blaze of green fire and spooky vibes." Ellie said with a strained smile, both happy to invite them but also dreading the questions she'll no doubt have to answer once the invites were sent.
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ellecdc · 3 months
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rosekiller & their 'platonic' girlfriend
rosekiller x 'platonic' girlfriend!reader when they find out it's not exactly platonic
CW: Evan & Barty threaten someone's life, Barty says he's in love and will die a lot
A/N: ........ I'm finally trying Evan out guysssss 😮‍💨🫣, prompt based off of this post and this post
click here for part two
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“Wow.” Sirius called as he looked you up and down salaciously in a way you knew was solely for the purpose of riling Barty up. “I almost didn’t recognise you without your third, L/N.” 
You were wholly incapable of biting back a scoff and an eye roll as you used your arm to stop Barty from approaching the troublesome Black. “I am the third, Black.” 
And of course where there was Sirius Black, one could be certain that James Potter wasn’t far behind him. “Not with the way you walk those two like dogs.” He called as he sidled up beside Sirius with a cocky grin. 
“It’s not like that- Salazar’s saggy balls, why am I explaining myself to you rotten dugbogs?” You grumbled as you grabbed Barty by the arm and continued the way you had been going before the interruption. 
“It could be like that you know?” Barty flirted, earning him a smack in the arm. 
“Sod off.”
You had found friendship in Barty and Evan after the two of them had already started dating.
Were they flirty with you? Sure.
Did the three of you spend a lot of time together? Yes.
Did you have some…fun from time to time? Absolutely. 
But you weren’t together; at least not in the way that everyone seemed to suggest. 
“Where are we going now?” Barty asked happily as he allowed you to guide him through the castle.
“We’re looking for your boyfriend; he promised to lend me that book he was telling me about.”
Barty barely had time to make a hum of acknowledgment before the two of you turned a corner to the sight of Evan Rosier.
Evan Rosier….who was currently holding a poor Ravenclaw bloke up against the wall by the collar of his uniform shirt. 
“Oh yay! We’re fighting!” Barty called happily as he all but skipped towards his boyfriend. 
“Rosier! What are you doing!?” You hissed as you tried to catch up to Barty’s longer strides. 
“Yeah Rosey! Why are we killing Fenwick today!?” Barty asked enthusiastically. 
You watched as Evan’s jaw twitched before he answered. “Heard him talking about shagging L/N at the Hufflepuff party tonight.”
Barty made an understanding hum as if saying ‘fair enough’ which you did not understand nor find ‘fair enough’ at all, whilst poor Fenwick seemed to swallow nervously. 
“So what?” You asked then, causing all three boys to look at you bemusedly. 
“What do you mean so what!?” Barty asked you incredulously.
“Well…” You started, really not understanding what the sodding hang up here was. “We’re not together?” You stated in the form of a question as you gestured between you, Evan, and Barty.
Evan stood there staring at you with furrowed brows for approximately half a minute (still with Fenwick pinned against the wall, mind you) before a brief look of understanding crossed his face. 
“Circe’s fucking tits.” He breathed out disbelievingly before turning to look at Barty “We’re in love with her.” 
A confused sound was caught in your throat as Barty threw his hands up in exasperation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you lot, but no one ever listens to Barty!” 
“Last week you fucking told me you were in love with inventor of bellbottom jeans, Junior, how the hells am I supposed to know when you actually mean it?” Evan hissed back at him.
“I literally told you that I would die if anything ever happened to Treasure, how in the fuck is that platonic?!”
“You told me you were going to die when Laurie and Jo didn’t end up together!” Evan shouted back. 
Barty’s face turned severe as he leveled Evan with a look. “How dare you bring that up right now; you know I’m still grieving.”
“For the love of Merlin- Rosier! Put Fenwick down.” You barked at him, surprising both boys from their argument and alerting them to the fact that they were still holding their classmate hostage.
Evan turned back towards the bloke and muttered a threatening “Stay the fuck away from her, got it?” as Fenwick nodded quickly and all but sprinted the opposite way down the hall once Evan finally released his grip. 
Barty let out a pleased breath as he clapped his hands together excitedly. “Well! What do we do now?”
Evan stalked over and grabbed your hand, surprising you with the tenderness of the touch coming from someone who still looked so murderous.
He slowly bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before he was leading you by the hand towards the Great Hall.
“We’re going to go and make sure the rest of the sodding school knows she’s ours too.” 
You felt your cheeks heat up not entirely unpleasantly as you listened to the sound of Barty cackle happily from where he was trailing behind you.
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kooyabooya · 21 days
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SECRETS & SPELLS
m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words
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“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport. 
She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always. 
“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.” 
-
It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad. 
And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly. 
Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way. 
Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more. 
One meeting happens again, and another. 
Then the next one. 
And the next one. 
The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one. 
So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like. 
And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol.  A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?
Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:
“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise -  the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility. 
“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.” 
“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-” 
“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.
“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place. 
And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried. 
Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression. 
She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.
“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.” 
“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.” 
Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.” 
With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion: 
“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.” 
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.” 
“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-” 
“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.” 
-
It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all. 
Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.
You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason. 
A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable. 
“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.” 
“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.” 
This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” 
“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.” 
“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?” 
You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory. 
“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?” 
Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list. 
“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.” 
You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible. 
She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room. 
The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol. 
“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?” 
Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown. 
Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate. 
Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth. 
The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever. 
She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall. 
“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–” 
“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.” 
“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-” 
Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue. 
If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it. 
Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura. 
It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock. 
You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first. 
She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes. 
The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists. 
“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein. 
Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like. 
And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings. 
“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva. 
You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach. 
She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her. 
The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation. 
Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower. 
“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so. 
This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable. 
“Mmph.” 
“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion. 
“Mmmmph…” 
“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up. 
“So fucking good,” she mumbles.
Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman. 
The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck. 
“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor. 
“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?” 
How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?
Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha? 
“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.” 
“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?” 
“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.” 
“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.” 
“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.” 
Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught. 
A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.” 
“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat. 
“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts. 
“Who was the one who woke up early again?” 
“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.” 
“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on. 
“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.” 
The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively. 
“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently. 
“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”
“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?” 
(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )
Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura. 
“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s? 
“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today. 
Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock. 
“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.” 
You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it. 
Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin. 
“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?” 
(Well, yeah. I mean-) 
Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle. 
The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless. 
Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you. 
“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.” 
“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses. 
“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha. 
No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided. 
Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks. 
A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints. 
Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer. 
Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute. 
Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early. 
“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?” 
“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas. 
You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember? 
Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out. 
Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body. 
Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough. 
She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire. 
“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them. 
“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?” 
Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure. 
“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her. 
“Shit!” 
Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her. 
“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?” 
So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame. 
Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls. 
The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.
Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to. 
Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.
“God, I’m going - I'm going.” 
The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs. 
"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!” 
Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight. 
A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier. 
Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more. 
“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.” 
“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?” 
“Yes, yes, yes, God.” 
“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.” 
The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy. 
“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.” 
“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.” 
You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours. 
It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-
“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips. 
The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough. 
These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers. 
And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that. 
Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap. 
“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.” 
You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants. 
“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?” 
You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside. 
“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.” 
And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you. 
When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs. 
“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.” 
Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless. 
The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives. 
“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point. 
And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree. 
“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off. 
Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her. 
Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action. 
“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?” 
“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded. 
You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure. 
Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out. 
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.” 
Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out. 
“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-” 
“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’
The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy. 
“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.” 
“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.” 
“-god.” 
The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears. 
“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.” 
“Shut your fucking-ugh.” 
“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-” 
“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.” 
Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first. 
The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior. 
“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning. 
“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.” 
You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on. 
It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me. 
“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-” 
Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.” 
And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone. 
She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside. 
Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms. 
Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable. 
You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours. 
“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?” 
“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs. 
“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.” 
It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space. 
Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock. 
In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close. 
Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-
“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers. 
You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest. 
Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you. 
“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.” 
Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-
“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?” 
“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.” 
You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and 
“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches. 
Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way. 
“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets. 
There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier. 
“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting. 
The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans. 
“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-” 
“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.” 
Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more. 
Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you. 
“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.” 
There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants. 
“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.” 
Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered. 
“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers. 
A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease. 
“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which- 
“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“
This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise. 
“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-” 
Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease. 
So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock. 
These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them. 
“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.” 
Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit. 
“My, fuck- holy fuck-” 
“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.” 
You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.
And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right. 
“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.” 
So. 
You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own. 
Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-
“Babes, I’m going-” 
That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably. 
Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.
Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair. 
“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.” 
“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.” 
You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes. 
“That isn’t really new news to anyone.” 
-
Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because: 
“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.” 
“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-” 
“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“ 
Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.” 
The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.
Every. Single. Time. 
919 notes · View notes
ythankucaptainmccoy · 18 days
Text
Tyler Owens x Reader (Oneshot)
Alright here ya go guys a Tyler Owens oneshot! WARNINGS: Attempted Assault and Major Fluff (Also Tyler Owens being the protective man we know he would be)
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The Oklahoma skyline was beautiful as you got your van ready to go. You had gone storm chasing with your uncle when you were younger and he passed all of his stuff to you. When your parents had died you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but your uncle had swooped in and started teaching you about weather. He taught you everything you knew, but he had gotten to a point where he could no longer keep up. So here you were in your small travel van setting up your equipment.
The weather was predicted to produce some tornadoes today. Watching the radar you could see a very strong looking storm forming and from where you were you could tell this one was going to be a good one. You packed everything in the van quickly and headed towards the storm. Your job was to photograph the storms and sell your photos to news outlets and things of that nature as well as selling the photos that didn’t make the cut online for a little extra cash. 
You had set up at a perfect spot and started taking pictures as the funnel started to come down. The pictures were soon to be ruined as you heard a familiar song blaring from a red truck. Tyler fucking Owens ruining another photo op for you. He pulled up beside you with the radio blaring. “Howdy (Y/N) fun day for storms!”, he yelled before speeding off. You didn’t want to edit your photos as you wanted them to be genuine. 
You walk back to your van and sit watching as Tyler takes off towards the tornado as per usual. The rest of the day continued like this and by the time you pulled into the motel parking lot other storm chasers had taken it over. You got a room and pulled your ringing phone out of your pocket. “Hello?”, you answered. “Hi (Y/N) this is Pam with the publishing market we were wondering when the next set of photos would be coming in. The deadline is tonight and we haven’t received any photos”, she explains. 
“I understand. I do have some photos that I can send over of the storms and the beginnings of the tornadoes”, you state. “Well we were hoping to have fully formed tornadoes for some magazine covers. A partially formed tornado or the beginning of the storm is not what we are looking for. Like I said, the deadline is tonight. If you can’t deliver the photos we are looking for we will have to find another photographer. I have to go. Goodbye”, Pam said as she hung up.
If looks could kill your phone would have combusted right there in your hand as you walked through the parking lot to your room. “Oh (Y/N). Pretty good tornadoes today”, Tyler called to you. “I wouldn’t know”, you huffed. “How could you not? There was one right after the other today”, Boone said. “Oh I don’t know I haven’t been able to photograph any without that eyesore of a truck getting into any of my shots”, you state angrily. “You know they have photoshop these days”, Tyler said.
“Except in order to get paid by the publishing market they have to be unaltered, but you YOUTUBERS wouldn’t know anything about that. Not that it matters because the deadline was tonight”, you seethed. Tyler’s team looked at each other at your outburst. You turned to leave as you could feel the angry tears forming and headed toward your room. The shower helped calm you down as you knew that the cash online wouldn’t be enough to keep funding your chasing. 
You were going to have to call an end to your season before it truly started. Tyler and his crew didn’t mean any harm and you felt bad for taking your frustration out on his team. That night you scrounged some photos you had taken last year and sent them in hoping they would take them. Your phone rang and this time it was your uncle so you answered it. “Hey how’s my tornado photographer doing?”, he asked. “It’s going great. Lots of great storms today”, you said. 
“So are you going back out tomorrow?”, he asked. “Yeah hoping to see some great tornadoes tomorrow”, you sigh. “You didn’t get any photos today that you needed for the publisher did you?”, he questioned. “No, the deadline was tonight. I sent in some photos I had taken last year so hopefully they will work, but I doubt it”, you reply. “Do you need any money? I can wire you some if you need it”, he told you.
“No I have enough and besides all I need to do is get some awesome shots and next thing you know they will be begging to use my photos”, you say. “Well if you need anything don’t hesitate to call”, he tells you. “I will. I’ll talk to you later. Night”, you say. He bids you goodnight and hangs up. You feel like you had failed your uncle since he couldn’t do the whole storm chasing anymore, but also because you knew that you only had enough money to make it to the end of the week. 
Sleep didn’t come easy that night, but when your alarm went off the next morning you hit the road. Stopping at a gas station to grab some coffee to wake you up you spotted Tyler and his group coming in as well. You continued to watch the radar while sipping your coffee. Boone waved at you which you returned as he was sweet as could be. On the other hand when Tyler waved you just rolled your eyes and went back to watching the radar. 
Your laptop alerted to an email and you knew exactly what it was, but pulled it into your lap and opened it. Sure enough an email from the publishers informing you that the deadline wasn’t  met and that you were technically out of a job. You groaned in frustration as you were now very much screwed. Then as if your day couldn’t get worse you spotted your ex best friend with another storm chasing team. She was more about the glamor of storm chasing than the feel and beauty of storm chasing. 
She started walking over to you and you put on a fake smile as she approached. “I can’t believe you’re here”, she says loudly. “Yepp here I am”, you respond. “I thought you would have run out of money already”, she laughs. “Well I’m a scrapper I’ll be here as long as the storms are”, you reply. “Well I got a call from the publishers and they decided to pick my pictures for their magazines”, she flaunted. She knew that it was your dream to become a world renowned storm photographer. 
“That’s great”, you replied. “Oh my team is coming back I gotta go”, she announced. She went back to her group as you fought the anger that was brewing. You had been best friends for years, but when the Twisted Gang leader asked her to join them and be his girlfriend she left you in the dust. You had no idea that Tyler heard the whole conversation and that you had lost your job essentially. A storm was forming as you packed up the rest of your gear and headed out.
You had better luck today than before as this tornado you were able to get great shots of. The whole day was perfect as you snapped photo after photo of the tornadoes, but then by the late afternoon there was that eyesore of a truck in the way. The pictures you had would be great to get you off the ground with the publishers so you called it a day. You checked your bank account and decided to sleep in your van since you had a shower last night. 
You emailed the publishers, but they replied that they had found another source. You were disappointed as you willed the tears away. You were just going to have to try harder tomorrow and get the perfect shots. You were setting up the small awning/tent your uncle had gifted you for your birthday up when Tyler and his crew pulled into the lot. You hadn’t eaten since that morning, but you had gone over numbers in your head and decided skipping meals today would extend the money a little bit. 
You watched as Boone set up a small grill then Tyler took over the cooking for the group. You pulled out your sketchbook and started to sketch Tyler and the rest of his group. It had been a hobby of yours when you and your uncle had strom chases in the past. Tyler would glance at you every once in a while watching you work trying to figure out what you were working on. You had to admit that Tyler was handsome as much as he could be a pain. 
You were almost finished when you saw Boone heading towards you. “Hey the group wanted to know if you wanted to join us for dinner”, he said. You were about to say no until you saw his puppy look and agreed to come over. “Well look who decided to join us”, Tyler joked. “I only came over because Boone is too convincing and there was free food”, you snarked. Tyler’s smile only widened as you pulled out your sketchbook again. 
Tyler and Boone worked effortlessly to plate food and distribute it. You had just finished your sketch as Tyler walked over with a plate for you. “What ya workin’ on?”, he asks. “Oh just a sketch nothing more”, you reply as you take the plate and dig in. Tyler snatches the sketchbook as you try to protest when he lands on the page you were just working on. He admires the sketch, but he can’t help but notice how much detail you have put into him in this sketch. You had captured him perfectly in the moment as he looked at you. 
“(Y/N) this is amazing”, he admires. “Thanks”, you whisper. Once you were done eating you thanked the Tornado Wrangler’s team and headed for your van. You pulled some covers out and put a chair up. The night was startinging to get cold as you wrapped your blanket around yourself. You weren’t asleep for long when the wind started to pick up and it started raining hard. You frantically start packing everything away into the van, but by the time you got everything in you were already soaked to the bone.
You climbed in and pulled the side door shut as the rain hit hard. The rain didn’t seem like it would be stopping any time soon so you decided to run for the small vending machines under the balcony of the second story motel. You had just got your soda and sat there for a minute as the air seemed to get colder. “Hi honey want to come in and get warm?”, a voice called out. The man standing in the doorway of his motel room was disheveled and greasy looking. “No thanks I’m good”, you responded. He walked out of his room and approached you as you tried to stay some distance away from him.
“Look I’m not interested”, you say loudly. It was late and no one was in the parking lot with this type of rain. “Look I think I could warm you up come on”, the guy said creepily. “I said I’m good”, you said even louder. He was getting too close as you told him to back off and when he grabbed you pushing you against the wall you screamed. “SHUT UP”, he bellowed. You didn’t as his other hand went to your chest. A blur to your left caught you off guard as a resounding thud filled your ears and the man that was holding you against the wall went flying. 
When your brain caught up you realized the man had been punched, and when you look to your left Tyler stands there like a raging bull. His nostrils flare as the heat in his gaze tells you all you need to know that he is angry. He strides forward grabbing the man by the shoulder and pulling him up and pushing him against the wall. “How does it feel, jackass”, Tyler growled. You stood there as he held the man against the wall and punched him again. 
“Tyler”, you whispered. He hit the man again before you found your voice again, “Tyler!”. He stopped and turned toward you to take you in making sure you weren’t hurt. “If you ever touch ‘er again I’ll kill ya’ understand”, Tyler drawled. He threw the man to the ground and made his way over to you. “Are you okay?”, he asked. You nodded as a shiver ran through your body. “I’ll walk you back to your room”, he says. “Oh I’m staying in my van”, you respond. 
Tyler looks as if you slapped him with your confession. “No you’re not sleeping in that van. You can stay with me. You can take a shower and have the bed. I’ll take the floor”, he says. You don’t even get to protest as he starts walking you towards his room. Once in the room Tyler goes into the bathroom to start the shower as the realization hits you that that man could have done something horrible to you had it not been for Tyler.
You slid to the floor as the first choked sob hit you. Tyler must have heard it because he was kneeling in front of you cupping your face into his hands. “I got ya’ (Y/N). You’re alright sweetheart”, he soothed. “He could have…have..”, you hiccuped. “No sweetheart I’d never let that happen to ya’ just breathe for me”, he tried. He let you cry as he pulled you up and helped you into the bathroom to let you sit on the sink.
He waited until you had stopped crying as you became silent. “The shower is hot and here are a pair of sweats, t-shirt and hoodie if you want it”, he tells you. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need me sweetheart”, he tells you. You nod at him as he closes the door leaving you alone in the bathroom. You shed your wet clothes and climb into the hot shower as it chases some of the chill from you. After getting done you dry off and pull on all of the clothes he had left you pulling a hoodie that swallowed you and smelled like Tyler over your head. 
You quickly style your hair and walk into the main room as Tyler was making a small cot on the floor. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor. I don’t mind sharing the bed. I trust you”, you tell him. He seems to deliberate his options as you wait for him to decide. “After you then”, he says. You climb in as he waits for you to get settled then climbs into his side. “Thank you”, you say softly. “You’re welcome sweetheart”, he replied.
You were shivering within a few minutes and Tyler noticed. “Come ‘ere I’m not gonna’ let ya’ freeze tonight”, he says. He lays on his side and pulls you to his chest as you look up at him. “You know you’re nothing like what the other chasers say you are”, you say. “Well I appreciate it”, he chuckles. You take him in and realize even with how much you bickered with him or fought over his eyesore of a truck getting in your photos you had fallen for him.
Tyler furrows his brows as you bring your hand up and trace his lips with your fingers. His breath seems to catch as you take in his facial features before you come back to his eyes that you swear can see straight to your soul. Without hesitating you slowly lean up towards him to give him plenty of time to back out, but he stays pupils dilating slightly in the glow of the lamp on the table beside the bed. 
You close your eyes as does he as your lips meet. Tyler lets you lead as you test the waters by nipping at his bottom lip. He smiles then and presses his lips a little harder against yours then full on kisses the breath out of you. When you both pull away you're both smiling and Tyler reaches up to place a strand of hair behind your ear. You both share some more kisses until Tyler cuts you off. “I’m a gentleman and I think that’s enough for tonight. Another thing you’re riding with us tomorrow and no protests. I’m going to help you get your job back”, he tells you. 
You sleep like a rock that night in Tyler’s arms and the next morning he wakes you. The Tornado Wrangler team watches as you walk to your van dressed in Tyler’s clothes with little smiles of their own. When you come back with your camera Tyler lets the team know you would be joining them for the day. Tyler made sure to drive you right up and into some of the tornadoes giving you amazing shots that were guaranteed to get your job back. Tyler was smiling and happy as you rode shotgun as Boone would load the rockets in the back seat.
As the team took a break Tyler watched you from a distance playing with your camera. He had to admit he loved when you would call his truck an eyesore and go toe to toe with him. He wanted to hear your voice more often and see your smile. “I’m gonna’ aske ‘er to join the team”, Tyler tells Boone. “I like her already so you know I don’t have a problem”, Boone says. The other team members agree as Tyler announces it’s time to roll as another cell starts to look better by the minute.
By the end of the day you submit your photos and receive an immediate response. The job was yours again and you ran to tell Tyler. In your excitement you run and tackle him in a hug that ends with you both crashing to the ground. “I got my job back”, you exclaim. “That’s amazing I knew you could do it sweetheart”, he tells you. The other Wrangler team members turn away as if they found something better to do as Tyler pulled you down to kiss him. “Chase with us. With me?”, Tyler asked. You sat there stunned for a moment and then you nodded saying yes. Tyler was excited to bring you into the fold. “Even if you have to ride in my truck”, he jokes. “I’ll follow you and that eyesore anywhere”, you reply as you share a kiss there in the parking lot.
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after-witch · 4 months
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Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Title: Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Synopsis: Mahito doesn't like that you have an interest in a book character.
Word count: 1787
notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of other people being tortured/killed, supreme self indulgence of the highest order
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“Who is the smiling man?” 
The silence that had existed between the two of you was broken by a question that made you flinch. Well, why not? Mahito has been quiet all morning--and afternoon, actually, which perhaps should have startled you more than his sudden words. 
But you were too happy to enjoy some quiet (you would never say “peace and quiet,” not down here, not with him); all too happy to curl up in your haphazard nest on the floor with some books that took  you away from this place. Away from Mahito.
Who was, of course, still here. Lounging in his hammock with a pile of books sagging down the netting. 
You couldn’t tell exactly what he was reading from down here--you probably needed new glasses, a subject you were certainly not going to bring up with Mahito, who might reiterate his offer to “fix” your eyes. It looked like a bundle of pages stapled together. Maybe he went to the library and printed off obscure articles to read again. 
“Hey,” he calls down, and the first hint of worry begins to prickle on your arms at his uncharacteristically serious tone, “Answer me.”
Your mind stutters, tries to put one word in front of the other, and make sense of it all. 
The smiling man? The smiling man, the… ah. From Small Spaces. The otherworldly supernatural entity who lives in a world behind mist and has a penchant for making deals with people for their greatest wishes. 
It’s not your fault that you haven’t thought about him in ages. It’s not like you had copies of your books with you, and the fun you had with imagining him in an endless number of scenarios had fallen by the wayside considering your circumstances. 
It’s hard to daydream about worlds behind mist and cornfield servants when you’re watching people be turned into grotesque experiments that had them, sometimes quite literally and loudly, begging for death.
Mahito is looking down at you now, staring expectantly. 
“He’s a character,” you say, fidgeting on the floor. “From a book series.” You look down, flip a page in your book, although you haven’t finished reading the last one, and ask, casually as you can muster: “Why?”
Mahito, up above, flips a page. You can hear the wobble in the paper--not a bound book, that’s for certain. And there’s some low, primal sense that shivers through you which says, plainly, that he’s actually reading whatever’s in front of him. 
“You write about him a lot.”
Oh.
Low, slimy dread filters into your stomach. Thick and gelatinous, resting at the bottom of your belly like an unwanted slug. 
“I… don’t know what you mean,” you say, voice only half-there, because while you are apparently stupid enough to lie to Mahito’s face, you’re not stupid enough to think he’ll believe you. 
You are just stupid enough to think that he won’t know exactly how deep your interest in this particular character goes; before Mahito took you, you thought about him all the time. You’d take walks and daydream about him, write story after story; you’d even commissioned fanart of him, because it wasn’t like there was a plethora of fanart for a character from a middle grade horror book. 
Mahito huffs out a sigh. Quick and short, it sends a shock right down your stomach. 
“Get you a man,” he starts, and confusion buzzes through your brain until he continues. “Who is an otherworldly entity that is so petty when an 11 year old beats him that he traps her in another world, leaving her to a fate worse than death, and laughs until he cries about it.”
You wrote that. There’s a vague memory of when you posted it--after you’d taken a walk, you think, and reread your favorite parts in the books for a few hours. But the way Mahito says it makes it sound--you don’t know how to explain it. Like saying the words out loud almost pains him; they come out clipped and bitter. 
Bitter? But why?
He doesn’t stop there. He reads something else, voice getting higher, almost mocking the way you talk. And that bitterness is still there, a thread continuing through every syllable.
“What if we kissed in the corn maze before you turned me into a scarecrow servant whose soul slowly gets dried out and useless and in the end you feed it, crunchy and tasteless, to your hellhound.” 
He takes a breath. Then--
“One particular aspect of the Smiling Man’s cruelty that I truly adore is that he can make people feel understood. He can make them feel like he cares, like he’s lending a listening ear, like he’s wanting to help them out and make them feel nice.”
Another breath--and he continues, again and again, reading your posts. Quoting your stories. Listing off the titles, the imagine posts, everything you’ve said about him.
All the while, bitter and mocking, his voice raising now and then in an imitation of your own. 
Then he gets to the last page of his clearly self-created tome and stares down at you, waiting, expectant. 
And you… you actually glare up at him. 
Because you're scared, sure. You’re always scared in some way, when you’re with Mahito. But there’s something else too, something that digs its way out of the rot in your gut and sticks up a petulant middle finger.
How dare he do this. How dare he take something that was yours and make it his; put it in his mouth and sneer over it. 
“Have you been--” Your mouth sticks together, refusing to let you accuse him of what you know he’s been doing. Stalking your online profiles. “That’s… that’s private,” is what you finally mutter, cheeks feeling hot and that half-buried petulance pushing you forward. “It’s not any of your business.” 
“Private?” He mutters the word softly, cradling the sound.
And then--
Mahito doesn’t often move fast around you. He prefers to be slow, languid. Calculating. You think it’s because that terrifies you more.
But now, in a moment, he goes from being slouched in his hammock to leaping down and crouching right in your face--there’s sudden pain in your head, and you realize he’s grabbed your hair and yanked it back.
That metaphorical middle finger sinks back down into the slimy gut sludge.
“Not from me,” he says, low, a warning. “Not for you.”
This is all it takes for tears to prick inside your eyes.
Mahito’s lips quirk up. Just a little. Just enough for you to notice.
“You’re going to cry already? I didn’t even do anything.”
Your eyes dart up and back, towards where he’s currently gripping your hair hard enough for it to sting.
He sighs through his nose. “This isn’t anything. You know that. Don’t be childish now.”
But--he lets go of your hair, and doesn’t grab for you when you scoot backwards on your blanket nest. Instead, he plops himself down, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his elbow.
You don’t speak. You don’t want to, and you don’t know what to say. Sometimes it’s better to be quiet around Mahito, so he doesn’t get ideas. Although he comes up with them on his own just fine, even if you try to stay silent.
It’s Mahito who breaks the silence.
“Why do you like him so much?”
How silly, to feel embarrassed right now. With the creature in front of you, and what he can do. But that’s what makes your cheeks burn: embarrassment. 
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because while you are stupid in so many ways, you’re still smart enough to know he wants an answer. “I guess I just like antagonist characters sometimes.” Well, most of the time. But it’s better to keep that from Mahito, if you can.
Mahito’s lips quirk here and there while he thinks. Then he looks at you with something like genuine confusion.
“You say that you like how awful he is. The awful things he does. So…” He tilts his head a little. “You should like me. Right?”
Your fingers pick at the loose threads of your clothes. Your eyes don’t meet his entirely--they flick up and down, from your legs to his face. 
“It’s not the same thing,” is what you come up with. But how to explain that to a curse?
Mahito frowns. 
“I don’t understand.” No bitterness, no pouting. A simple statement of fact.
“He’s not real.” You swallow against the minefield that all of this is making you step through, hoping you’ll avoid them. “But you are. That makes it different.” 
Mahito leans forward, grabbing your wrists, pulling you closer to him with a yanking, childish gesture.
“So you should like me more,” he says, a slight pout in his tone. “Because I can really do those things.” His eyebrows raise, and you swear you can hear a buzzing light bulb go off. “I could turn someone into a scarecrow for you.” He smiles, sudden, excited. “Do you want me to find some school children to torment?”
“No!” Your voice cracks. There are brief images in your mind--the people he’s tortured and killed, experimented with, before you were here and while you’re here and probably after you’re dead and gone--and you shake them away. 
Mahito’s eyebrows furrow. He groans and rolls his eyes backwards until they are entirely white, not in mockery or an attempt to scare you, but in irritation. Fingers squeeze your wrists briefly and let go, and you stay quiet, trying to fight your urge to cry, until Mahito slowly rolls his eyes back to stare at you.
His gaze flicks over you, until he catches your eyes with his. 
“You won’t write about him anymore.”
You don’t take a moment to answer this time.
“I won’t.”
“You won’t read those books anymore.”
“I won’t,” you stay. “I haven’t. I--don’t even have copies anymore.”
Mahito smiles, a little. Maybe it’s a good thing you never asked him to find you a copy, a thought which had been a brief temptation a while back.
And then he leans in closer again, until his nose touches yours.
“You won’t think about him anymore,” he says, quiet, solemn. Not an order but a matter of fact. 
You don’t answer. You swallow against a bitter taste in  your throat; you swear, sometimes, that the sludge in your gut is real and tries to make its way out sometimes.
Mahito presses his nose against yours until it starts to hurt.
“You won’t,” he says again, this time more to himself. “I’ll make sure of it.”
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flkwh0re · 8 months
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Babysitter
Warnings: Mommy kink (W), age gap, slight pervy Wanda, Masturbation, Somno, slight Dubcon, cheating (Wanda cheats on Vision), little fluffy! (please tell me if i left some warnings out!!)
Wc: 1.6k
A/n: If you don’t like this idc :) just scroll or block me if you don’t like this content!
part two here
——————————⧗ᗢ——————————
You had been babysitting the Maximoff twins since you were in high school, but now being in college you were hardly ever able to. That was until Wanda found out you were home for a few days and sent you a text asking if you didn't mind to watch the boys for the evening while her and her husband went out for dinner.
You never liked Jarvis, he would always give you weird looks when Wanda was around you. You had noticed a change in Wanda's demeanor towards you when you came home again a couple months ago. You just brushed it off as him being weird, but you were completely wrong.
Little did you know Wanda had not been able to get you out of her mind, she would catch herself thinking about you at all points of the day. She thought it was just because she missed you, but when she found herself with her fingers buried in her pussy, holding her phone displaying a picture of yourself you had posted on Instagram. It felt so wrong, but oh so right.
You hesitantly rung the doorbell, waiting for someone to answer the door. You never understood your shyness around Wanda, you thought it was some silly little teenage girl crush. It most definitely wasn't as it strengthened in you adulthood.
"Hi sweetheart!" Wanda greeted happily, pulling you into a hug. The smell of her perfume crowded your senses, making you feel weak. "Ugh, I've missed you so much!" She placing a little kiss on your forehead, a tint of pink gracing you cheeks. "I've missed you too, Wanda."
She brought you to the living room, and made some little small talk with you while she waited for Jarvis. She asked you all about your second year in college, the trips you had taken, your friends, and lots more. Wanda just loved hearing you talk about things you do, and things you loved.
You were interrupted by Jarvis' trudge down the stairs. "Darling, are you ready?" He said smugly, giving you a look. "Yes, let me call the boys down. Y/n there's chicken nuggets in the freezer, you can fix them for them. Kitchen is yours so you fix whatever you want, house too. Once the boys are asleep feel free to do whatever, just don't destroy the house." She send you a little wink, and you nodded your head.
"Boys!" She called out to her twin boys, and they came running out of their room. "Tommy, Billy. Mommy and daddy are going out tonight, be on your best behavior for Y/n." The two boys nodded eagerly, excited for their evening with you. Wanda said her goodbyes to you as Jarvis stood annoyed and impatient. Once they had left you turned to the boys, "Who's ready for some fun!?"
Wanda and Jarvis had been gone for an hour now, Tommy and Billy were eating their dinner while you prepared yours. They excited to finish, because you promised if they did you'd all play on their shared playstation for a few hours.
After you all had finished, you played until it was time for them to go to bed. Their protest made you giggle as you drug them up to bed. "Sorry boys, but your mom would kill me if you weren't in bed on time." They both groaned, but still complied nonetheless.
You walked back down to the living room, curling up on the couch taking your laptop out of your bag, hoping to get some work done for your classes. You didn't know you'd wind up clutching onto a blanket coated in Wanda's sent, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit. The tips of your fingers prod at your aching hole, as you imagined Wanda's fingers buried deep inside you.
The sudden sound of the door opening, sent you into a panic. You pulled your hand out, trying to readjust the blanket as best as possible. You get on your phone and scroll through TikTok trying to seem as normal as possible. "Hey sweetheart we're back." Wanda said as Jarvis walked off. "Hi Wanda, give me just a second and I'll be out of your hair.”
"Oh Y/n why don't you spend the night, it's too late for a girl your age to be out this late." She insisted. "Wanda I'm not a little girl anymore." You chuckled, walking into the hallway by the door where Wanda stood. "Oh but you are, you're my little girl." Wanda said, your face heating up.
"W-wanda I-" She cut you off by placing a her finger on your lips. "Shh, let mommy do the thinking. Stay the night, and once Jarvis goes to bed I'll come back to you." She husk in your ear, her hand snaking around your front. "But Wanda, h-he's your husband.. you’re married." She laughed, "You don't think I'm aware? He's not been much of onefor years, and I can't get my mind off you. I need you sweet girl, please let mommy have you."
You hesitate, but nod your head. Her hand slips underneath your shirt, groping at your tits. "We have time for a little fun real quick." She whispered into your ear, the sultry tone in her voice makes you shiver. Her hand runs down your body and slips into your pants, rubbing your slit through your panties. She gasp as she feels how wet you are, "You're so wet detka, what were you doing? Tell mommy."
"I-I was on your couch, t-touching myself." You whimpered out, any dignity you had was now gone. Her fingers slip into your panties, rubbing your swollen clit. She sucks lightly on your neck, leaving little marks on your delicate skin.
Her slender fingers plunge into your aching cunt, thrusting steadily in and out of you. You try your best to choke back your moans, but you accidentally let a loud moan slip past your lips. Wanda quickly brought her hand to your mouth, covering it. "Shh be a good girl for mommy, we don't want my husband to catch us now do we?" You shake your head, indicating a desperate no.
Your legs begin to buckle, as your orgasm crashes through. Muffled moans escape your throat, as Wanda fucks you through your orgasm. The hand on your mouth retracts as she helps your regain composure. You watch her as she sucks your slick off her fingers, moaning around the digits as she savors your taste.
"I can't wait to taste you for real baby." Wanda says excitedly, as she pulls you into a kiss. "Alright, let's get you to bed. I'll be back down in about an hour.” She says as she leads you to the spare room.
You tried your best to get a little sleep, and right before Wanda came in you managed to doze off. She smiled at your sleeping state, pulling the sheets of your body. She softly moves your body so she can remove your shorts and panties. A groan escapes her lips at you still dripping cunt.
She places her head between your legs, dropping soft kisses on you thighs. Her tongue licking soft licks on your swollen clit, running down to your hole prodding at it. It wasn't until Wanda harshly sucked on your clit, that you began to stir awake. Little whimpers and moans escaped your sleepy self, thighs softly clamping around Wanda's head.
"You taste so good detka," she whispered into your pussy, the vibration of her voice making you whimper even more. She loved how vocal you were, how sensitive and reactive you were. She hasn't had sex like this ever, Jarvis could never truly give her pleasure.
She slipped her digits into your cunt. "Oh fuck mommy!" You moaned at the sudden fullness. You loved feeling so desperate and weak for Wanda, and she loved it too. "Fuck! 'M gonna cum mommy!" Groans and cries left you as she fucked you hard through the ecstatic orgasm.
She straddled her bare pussy on yours, rutting it against yours. "Mm no mommy, 'm too tired. Please st-stop." You begged her, but the thrust of her hips quickened. "No detka, mommy wants to cum. Help make mommy cum."
Her slick mixed with yours, her pussy rubbing on your own sensitive one made you feel crazy. "Fuck sweetheart, mommy's gonna cum! Cum with mommy." With her demand, cum gushed from you leaking onto her pussy, mixing with her own cum.
"Good girl, mommy's so proud of you." She said, placing a soft kiss on your lips. "You think you can give mommy one more? I wanna ride your face." You nodded sloppily.
She slipped off your body, straddling your face. Her slick cunt making contact with your lips. Your tongue slipped past your lips, licking a bold stripe on her pussy. "Fuck, just like that detka."
You swap from weakly licking and sucking on her core, you tried your best but you were so week from your previous orgasms you couldn't keep a steady pace. Wanda pitied you and ordered you to stick your tongue out, grinding her cunt on it. Getting just enough friction to cum. Her cum dripped down your throat, you had never tasted someone as good as her.
"You did so good for me baby, such a good good girl!" Wanda praised. "Thank you mommy." You weakly squeaked.
Wanda laid down next to you, pulling your smaller body into her. Kiss your lips softly, then your forehead. Wanda knew she had to do something about Jarvis, she just had to make you hers so bad! She'd do whatever she had to, just to keep you for herself.
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luveline · 5 months
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Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words
Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any
“I think he’s mad at you.” 
You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 
“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 
“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 
Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 
“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 
“You have blood in your beard.” 
“Oh, right.” 
You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 
As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 
You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 
“God, yes, please.” 
He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 
“You’re doing amazing.” 
“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 
You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 
“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 
You grimace. “Yikes.”
“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 
You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 
The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 
“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 
As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 
“What are you?” you ask, bemused.
His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 
“How is that?” 
“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 
“No, I’m okay.” 
His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 
“Let me?” 
“You could get hurt.”
You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 
“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 
“Where would we go?” 
“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 
“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”
“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 
“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 
And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 
You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 
“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 
You bite back a smile. 
“Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 
Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 
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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 months
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YOUR YUJI FIC WAS SO YUMMY 😳 I would love a part 2 if you’re ever up for writing it! 🥹
GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM THE FUCKING DEAD. ME. ME. I AM BACK AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH (im sorry i just missed writing). well, anyways, with me comes the power of horny <3
ps: this took me fucking four days to write and i don't even think it's good 😭😭 writers block is a bitch
🧸learning some lessons ft. yuuji itadori!
continuation of my previous fic "teaching some lessons", so, i suggest read that first to ensure you're fully immersed into the horny storyline. set-up: yuuji itadori. the quarterback, the guy you're giving "sex ed" lessons, and ofcourse, the brother of your childhood best friend sukuna. what could ever go wrong with this combination? nothing, i hope? warnings: contains nsfw concepts such as yuuji's first time, overstimulation, penetration, a bit of porn logic. and as always, sukuna, nobara and megumi are fucking menaces. stay blessed y'all, and minors DO NOT INTERACT I WILL FIND YOU AND HUNT YOUR ASSES. [ALSO A LITTLE BIT OF TOJI AND GOJO SLANDER IM SORRY] wc: 6.4k porn with A LOT of plot [like 70% plot im sorry]
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"dude." megumi's usual nonchalant demeanor had faded in a matter of seconds. now, each of his drawled out words had a certain twinge of dread, "this is actually fucking insane."
"hm?" the pink-haired quarterback didn't even bother to dignify his best friend's statement with a proper answer. he was too busy rapidly pressing the controls, trying to get the shots right.
but megumi's hand had gone slack, the controller barely held limply in his palm. he turned to stare down the forementioned pink-headed idiot. he repeated himself, "yuuji."
"gumi—" yuuji hissed back, "we're losing, fucking focus."
"you just told me that you're fucking sukuna's best friend. her." megumi deadpanned, "the only thing i need to focus on is arranging your funeral."
yuuji hissed through his teeth as his player got shot right in the head and a definitive 'GAME OVER' flashed all across the tv screen. he sunk backwards into the comfortable couch at the fushiguro household. megumi shifted backwards too, slumping next to his best friend with a resigned sigh.
the house was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of the background score of the game playing in the background. yuuji knew tsumiki was out shopping with her friends, and gojo was out annoying the hell out of someone or the other (possibly, coach nanamin). who else was to be considered in the fushiguro household? toji fushiguro? he was an enigma. he came when he felt like and left just as soon. a model poster boy for giving people daddy issues, yuuji presumed.
"have i told you your couch is super nice?" yuuji asked as he stared at the overhead lighting before sweeping his gaze over the modern living room.
"multiple times."
the quarterback snorted, "you remember the time i got drunk—"
"—and tried to take the couch home. yes, i do. i also remember the time sukuna chased you with a knife cause you took his last pack of cheetos. imagine what he would do when you take his best friend."
yuuji pouted, giving megumi a side-eye he couldn't miss, "you're no fun."
"be for fucking real." the raved head sat up, turning towards yuuji at lightning speed. his eyes squinted in scrutiny, "you're the one making idle chit-chat as if sukuna isn't gonna kill you the moment he finds out what you and her have been up to."
"yeah but—" yuuji sighed, rubbing his palms against his face slowly, "is it really that big of a deal? i mean, it's just a few lessons here and there. it's not like she likes me or something—"
"—yeah, she probably won't. ever. considering she called you her little brother."
"oh, fuck off, gumi. that was when we were five."
"just pointing down the obvious."
"i knew i should have told nobara about the situation. she would have given much better advice."
"kugisaki would have laughed at you so hard, she would have cried." megumi got up, probably to get some more chips. as he left, he quipped over his shoulder, "you're catching feelings for someone who doesn't have that kind of interest in you, itadori. you will end up looking like an idiot at the end. and possibly dead."
well, maybe megumi fushiguro had a point. but that point was so goddamn hard to see with your thighs pressed on either sides of his face.
🧸lesson 04: maybe making girls cry is okay sometimes
"mhm- ngh oh my god. yuu." yuuji placed his tongue flat against your pulsating clit. you bucked into his face, pressing his mouth messily to your hot core as you showered him in breathless praises.
nobody was home. kuna was probably gonna be home later at night and so, you both had decided his room as the venue for your next 'lesson'.
you weren't even sure which numbered orgasm it was at this point. and you weren't sure if you even existed anymore outside of yuuji and his face and his tongue and yuuji.
red, hot need ran it's course through your body as the jock manhandled you. his calloused palms pulled your jerking hips downwards to steady them and then, pulled you hastily towards himself. yur jaw fell open, going slack at the torturous stimulation yuuji had the audacity to hum in approval when you momentarily went slack under him.
"yuuji, yuuji. yuu. pl-please please- stop. st-" tears pricked at your eyes as you called out his name in a futile attempt to get him to stop. your hands bunched at his sweaty locks, pushing and pulling to get his wicked tongue on your sensitive cunt to ease up.
but the jock was unforgiving.
his tongue dipped within you, your muscles contracting and spasming against his pretty face as his nose dug deeper against your clit. his tongue was fast, delving in and out of you methodically as you bucked and keened under his touches. the salty tears fell down your cheeks.
"yuu—" you mumbled in a weak voice and he finally looked up so as to assess the damage.
"hm?" his mouth finally parted from yours, messy and sticky.
and when yuuji looked up at you, he was sure this is the last sight he would see before he was condemned to hell for the rest of eternity. your eyes were watery, lips swollen and quivering. you could barely keep your vision straight before you clenched your eyes shut and tried to pry him off of yourself.
so fucking pretty that it made him ache. and that only pushed him to kiss inner thigh and lick a soft stripe up your gushing cunt, getting back to what he was previously doing.
"fuck fuck fuc— yuu, no. no more. p-plea— fuck." you stomach was full of something hot and molten, something jittery and unstable. something that sounded and tasted a lot like yuuji itadori.
the quarterback stayed on his knees, bringing his forefinger and thumb to pinch and rub your wet clit as your thighs shook, your eyes rolled backwards and your back arched. he grinned — a feral sight — as you finally came undone on his tongue again.
he finally pulled himself upwards, using his discarded tshirt to clean off his face. as he stood before you, all he could do was watch you awestruck.
you were heavenly.
your spent figure was slumped on his bed; t-shirt pushed up to expose your bruised tits and your legs pressed together as you tried to come back on mother earth. your eyes were still closed, cheeks wet from tears and yuuji had to stop himself from begging you to let him fuck you tonight.
but he abstained. of course not. that was insane. you would never let him go that far, would you? so, instead he chose to lie down next to you and pull you into his chest.
you nudged your cheek against his pecs, finding refuge in his warmth and he gladly let you, allowing a small smile on his face. his fingers came up to push back strands of hair from your sweaty forehead and then wipe away the salty tears that had made home against the plane of you cheeks. once he was sure you had caught your breath, he pressed a sweet kiss to your skin. finally, he mumbled, "sorry, did i go too far?"
you shook your head no, curling further into him with ease. and he let you. he shifted his position so as to allow your skin on his, so as to press his nose to your hair and smell that strawberry shampoo, so as to almost pretend for a second that you were his.
but you didn't let the show run for long. a few minutes later, as you felt the energy returning to your body, you attempted to get up.
the jock's eyebrows furrowed, he sat up with you, "something wrong? do you want something? water or—"
"—no, no." you turned to give him a weak smile, "i think i'm just gonna go shower before kuna is home and he finds me like this."
oh. ofcourse. how could he forget the ever-looming threat that was sukuna?
"can you walk?" he asked earnestly, offering you his tshirt so you could put it on, "i can walk you to the shower, if you want."
"i'll be okay, yuu." you poked your head through his shirt, trying to stand up. but your legs immediately wobbled and you lost balance, "—fuck. okay. i guess not."
yuuji offered you a smile, picking you up bridal style as you squealed at his action. a blush crept up your neck and face, "what are you doing?!"
"what? i think i should be responsible for the mess i create, shouldn't i?" he gave you a cheeky smile, the kind where the cut under his eye came alive and he grinned ear to ear. a boyish grin, perhaps. and you were fortunate enough to be on the recipient end of it.
you weren't sure what it was that you felt for yuuji, or what you didn't. all you knew that right now — as he carried you out of his room clad in a t-shirt that smelt like him — it was as if he was aware of the sudden jump your heart and wanted nothing more than to be the cause of your untimely death.
"you don't have to do this." you mumbled.
what did 'this' refer to, exactly? you weren't quite sure. was it the fact that he had entertained your drunken idea for such a long amount of time? or was if the fact that in the moments even when you weren't offering him something physical, he still looked at you as if you hung up stars in the night sky for him? maybe it was as simple as the fact that he was carrying you to run you a bath.
he stayed quiet and you repeated yourself louder, "really, yuuji, you don't have to."
"i want to." and that was all he said.
you felt his biceps tense under you as he shifted your weight on one arm and attempted to open the door with the other. he gave you a reassuring smile, and you nudged your face against his chest to hide your embarrassment at his simple answer.
once he finally was through, he walked into the lliving room, attempting to make his way to the bathroom down the hallway whe—
"YUUJI?!" a voice boomed from the door and both of you whipped your head to look at the man that stood there.
ever heard of divine intervention? yeah, this was whatever the fuck is the opposite to that. satanic intervention. cursed intervention, perhaps.
"ON—ONICHAN?!"
"CHOSO?!" you scrambled off of yuuji, hitting the ground with a muffled thud.
choso immediately looked away from his half-naked brother and the girl in his brother's t-shirt*.
(*yeah, okay, just try to understand the family dynamics for a second. choso [24] is the oldest and he has graduated uni and has a job now. sukuna and (yn) [21] are in their third year, and yuuji [20] is in his second. choso knows who (yn) is since you and kuna are childhood besties or whatever. so... yeah okay, back to the shitshow 👍🏻)
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" choso asked loudly, his eyes still averted from you both so as to not accidentally see your exposed form.
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" yuuji retorted as you hid behind his broad figure instinctively, trying to recover whatever ounce of modesty you had.
"I OBVIOUSLY HAD THE KEY TO MY OWN HOME?!"
"WELL, DON'T WALK IN UNANNOUNCED? DO YOU HAVE NO MANNERS?"
"yuuji."
"IM SORRY 'NICHAN!!"
and that is how choso found out about your little arrangement. and that is how you both decided to never have another rendezvous session at the itadori's.
🧸lesson 05: you got this, itadori!
"what the fuck?" megumi asked slowly, eyeing yuuji as the jock shoved some french fries down his mouth.
"YEAH, WHAT THE FUCK?!" nobara repeated, louder. to which, megumi gave her a side-eye, "we're in public, kugisaki."
yuuji took his time, sipping his coke before shrugging, "yeah, so, 'nichan found out."
nobara shook her head, "no. no. turn around 360—"
"—180. 360 makes a circle."
"die, megs. anyways, turn around and tell me that part of the story where you started—" the red-head shuddered, "—doing stuff with senpai. why?! how?! why?! how??"
yuuji took a bite from his burger before saying, "well, she offered."
"fuck that all. it's old news."
"for you. cause, apparently, i was left out of the loop—"
"—much sad. anyways, is choso okay with you and her? or is he gonna snitch you out to sukuna?"
"i mean, no. i don't think so, no." yuuji tried to steal a fry off of nobara's plate and she smacked his hand off, "ow kugisaki! whatever. he gave me a long lecture about how i should actually pursue her and officially ask her out if we wanna keep doing this. after that, for whatever unrelated reason, he cried about how quickly we grew up."
"virgin behavior." nobara stuck out a tongue, quickly reeling out of her disbelief over the fact that yuuji was getting some, "i mean, that's old-fashioned. you don't have to date her, you know?"
"but your brother's not wrong, is he?" megumi offered. "don't keep doing this just cause you want a way to get your dick wet."
"megs, it's not 1920. they are consensual adults and they can just fool around if they're on the same page."
"yeah but about that—" yuuji tried to sneak in a fry from megumi's plate now, "—i think i'm in love with her. and i am pretty sure the feelings are one-sided."
"huH?!"
"what?" the jock looked at the two dumbfounded, "i like her. she's pretty and smart and i think— i like her."
he didn't think he liked you. he knew that he was whole-heartedly, as stupidly as humanly possible, in love with you.
but he didn't bother mentioning the fact.
he didn't bother mentioning a plethora of things, in fact. first, that his heart had been offered to you at the ripe age of four when he first realized that sunlight got caught against your hair strands somewhat magically, and when you smiled, he smiled; and that when he cried, you kissed his imaginary wounds better even when sukuna made fun of him.
he didn't bother mentioning that when he asked you to marry him, there was only such a small part of him that was 'joking', the larger chunk of him would have exchanged his soul for some sort of forbidden alchemy to be with you.
he didn't bother mentioning that when he was thirteen, a slew of girls had asked to be his girlfriend, and he had turned down each one of them to sneak in his first kiss with you.
but all those years of pining just turned into a small ball of anxiety, ever-growing in his stomach. he knew you didn't feel the same. so, he didn't bother saying any of that. because, well, frankly, his situation seems just a tiny-teensy bit pathetic.
"i guess i just like her... just a bit." he repeated, more to himself than others.
"we heard the first time. and the second."
"DUDE" nobara's eyes widened, "she's sukuna's best friend."
"hey, what happened to the fact that we are consensual adults fooling around?"
"oh no, fuck that. i was humoring you." nobara shook her head, "sukuna's gonna murder you."
"yeah, i know." yuuji sighed, his playfulness replaced by something more mature, "i am not gonna ask her out. i think i'm gonna call this— whatever this is— off. i don't want her to lose her friendship with 'kuna, and she... well, she probably doesn't like me anyways."
megumi and nobara exchanged a sorry expression among themselves before looking back to yuuji. but the jock put on a smile, "ah it's fine, it was fun while it lasted." he leaned back in his seat, "wanna catch a movie after this? human earthworm is out."
so the quarterback had gone back home that day with a certain resolve. he would call this off.
he put on his lucky red sweatshirt, put on the cologne you had complimented once when he had gone for one of his lessons, and he put on his best fake smile. as he passed by sukuna in the living room, he guiltily looked away from him and walked out of the door as soon as possible.
"where ya going?" the tatted man asked, not looking up from his phone.
"nowhe—" he sighed, running a hand through his hair before he bent downwards to put on his shoes, "with gumi and nobara. we're going to the arcade."
"you've been hanging out with the fushiguro kid quite a lot nowadays. a lot of sleepovers."
yuuji's fingers halted, slowly fidgeting with the shoelaces before he threw sukuna a casual look, "he's my friend. and his dad is out of town so i go over. got an issue?"
"nah, do whatever." kuna met his eyes but then went back to his phone without saying much. a beat later, he continued, "well, let me know if you'd be home in time for dinner."
yuuji stood up, dusting off his clothes, "you're cooking today?"
"yeah, thought i'd invite her over. she likes that pasta i make."
at the mention of you, yuuji looked over sukuna once. a sharp sting suddenly erupted in his chest like someone had hit him. hard. and, so, without saying anything more, the younger itadori immediately left through the main door.
things must end.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
his fingers skimmed over the ringing bell in front of your apartment as his feet nervously shuffled around at the door. he knew you were on the other side, waiting for him. as the door swung open, he was face to face with your housemate.
"hey?" maki raised an eyebrow, a smug smile on her lips. she was dressed as if she was leaving to go somewhere, "she's in her room."
yuuji simply pursed his lips, nodded and moved past his senior. before walking into your room, he stalled in front of the door, threw his head back to catch maki about to leave, "kugisaki says hi, by the way."
and if yuuji didn't know any better, he would have assumed the glare maki gave was one well-intended to kill him.
he wasn't sure if the room was chilly or if the reason for goosebumps was something else, but nonetheless, he shut the door behind him and stepped into the room. as he came in view with the bed, he found you casually on your back, scrolling your phone.
"yuuji!" you smiled as you sat up, a familiar warmth spreading over your face at his presence. but he merely nodded, his lips drawn into a thin line.
"um," you fidgeted, standing up hastily and laughing to ease the awkwardness, "so, uh— did maki let you in?"
"yeah, she did."
"oh, well, she's going out, so we don't need to worry about her." you paused for a second before your expression fell and you tried again, "hey?"
but a same monotone expression fell across his face, "hey."
"um... is something wrong? in a bad mood or something?"
"not quite." yuuji rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the cold, wooden floors, "i wanted to talk. to you, i mean."
you nodded, although he didn't look up at you to register your expression. he continued softly, "we should stop this."
"what?"
"i—" he looked up at you, quickly sneaking in a steadying breath, "i wanted to thank you for the 'lessons'. it's been fun and i learnt so much, really. but you don't have to do it anymo—"
"why?" you interrupted, "did someone find out?"
"what? no."
"then?" you stepped towards him, your unyielding gaze trained on his face, "do you not... want to do it with me anymore?"
"no, ofcourse not." his eyes widened and he stepped forward in a desperate attempt to comfort you. his palms found purchase against your cheek, "no. that's not what i meant."
"what do you mean then?" you looked up at him, confused.
"i-" he looked at you softly, "i really can't ruin your friendship with sukuna anymore. we need to stop. it has gone for... for way too long, now, hasn't it?"
"—it's just been a few months."
"come on. we both know we need to stop." he confessed, and as his words left you hollow, so did his touch. he pulled away from you and stepped back a teensy bit to allow you some space. "it will be for the best."
you looked at him for a beat. and then one more. finally, "kiss me."
and the jock obliged without any hesitation. his lips were familiar against yours, his hands on your cheek, and his body weight pressing onto you and pushing you backwards into the bed.
the back of your knees hit the wooden frame and you stumbled backwards, falling onto the bed with a muffled thud. but yuuji didn't bother following you and caging you underneath him. instead, he stood at the edge, waiting.
"yuu?" you asked softly.
"are you sure about this?"
and you weren't sure if he was asking that question to you or himself. you weren't sure if his fingers were shaking from the betrayal or the need to hold you against him. but you nodded your head anyways, "yeah. if this is it. if this is the last time then indulge in my stupid ideas one last time." you paused, "please?"
he nodded before swiftly throwing off his hoodie off of his torso an onto the floor. bruises from a few days before laid tattered across his tan skin and his biceps flexed and moved as he slowly caged you under him.
"fuck," he breathed in slowly, taking in your low-lidded gaze, "you're so fuckin' pretty."
your fingers found solace in his pinkish locks and you pulled him closer — till your skin smelt like his perfume and his stuttered breath hit your lips, "yuuji."
"hm?" his eyes ran over your face, and the adoration in his eyes made you feel like he would set the world aflame if you so as even asked him to.
"fuck me."
his pupils widened, cheeks flushed and a breathless gasp got stuck in his throat. at his reaction, you pulled him downwards, kissing him softly before the tendrils of passing seemed to nip down on both of you. soon after, you were nothing more than messy kisses, clashing teeth and wrong decisions.
"fuuck— ha-harder." he moaned as your fingernails sunk into his scalp, pulling him harder against yourself.
your hands travelled downwards to his chest and you pushed him away only to turn him around and straddle his hips. your pelvis rolled over his, the delicious friction driving you delirious as you peered down at the man under you — kiss-bitten lips, tousled hair, flushed cheeks.
yuuji itadori looked at you as if you were his god.
and you played along. rolling your hips, tracing a finger from his jaw down to his pecs as your lips traced the path with soft kisses soon after.
his hips stuttered, trying to meet your shallow teases before he mumbled out a soft, "take off your clothes."
you smiled, putting on a show for him as you slipped out of your tshirt. leaving yourself exposed to his preying eyes, you slowly took off the bra.
"shit, look at you." he raised himself on his elbows, coming upwards to softly kiss your warm skin before slowly licking over your nipple as another hand fondled the other. your head was thrown back at the feeling of his warm mouth on you while his fingers softly tugged at the other.
soon after that, you found yourself rocking yourself on his long fingers as he sunk his teeth in your neck, getting off on the pretty sounds you made as you rut against him almost as desperately as he was. when he caught you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, he pulled your face towards his and kissed you senseless. when he pulled away, his hot breath fanned over your lips, "don't. let me hear, please."
and so senseless moans tumbled down your lips as you you came, still rutting against his hand.
when your breath stilled and you finally met his gaze, all you could was breath out an airy, "fuck me, please."
flushed face, hazy eyes, your mouth parted so prettily at the end of the sentence. who was itadori yuuji to deny you of anything?
"say that again."
🧸lesson 06: fuck it up, itadori!
"n-no protection? are you... sure?"
god, he was adorable.
you held back a laugh as you re-assured him a millionth time, "i'm on birth control, so, no. trust me."
"hm. hm." his breath was caught in his throat as if it were a jagged rock. your hands on his torso felt warm — too warm — as if they would char him and you blinked up at him so prettily as you laid atop those pillows.
"i- one second. i-" his voice was thick, hands slightly shaking as he tried to guide his erection into your slick cunt.
"yuu," you cooed and he looked at you in part hope, part confusion. a laugh escaped you at his expression, "you look like a kicked puppy."
"so-sorry, imjustnervous—" he mumbled, his eyes avoiding yours.
"yuu," you repeated, "this is your first time, right?"
he nodded so softly that it was entirely too easy to miss it. you held back an amused grin, "let me help, okay?"
shockwaves ran through his body as your soft hand slowly took ahold of his dick and ran the tip over your clit, gathering your wetness on the mushroom tip. you both held back a choked sigh as your hand continued the same up and down, up and down, up and down motion till you felt as if yuuji was going to cry just from the teasing.
"h-hey—"
"sorry, sorry. no more teasin', i promise." you replied cheekily, fingers finally guiding him to your sloppy hole. and as the tip finally pushed past the first ring of feeble resistance, a shuddering gasp left the man above you.
pushing in inch by inch, you gasped at the sinful stretch of him filling you. your walls spasmed slightly against him, hugging him so sinfully tight that he wondered if he would pass out just right now. but he couldn't. so he commanded himself to keep moving forward till he was all but buried within you.
"s-shit." his breath was heavy against the dip of your neck and you ran a soft hand through his hair, "you okay, yuu?"
"ye-yeah." he shook his head slowly, descending down on you to sink his teeth into your skin again as he started moving slowly.
"jus like that— yeah."
at first his thrusts were slow and shallow, as if he was just testing the waters. but as you found you keening into his touches and moaning as his tip rubbed against a certain spot, he grew sure of his actions.
his thrusts were now harder, a bit more precise and his tempo increased as you dug your heels on his back and tugged on his hair to keep him going.
"jesus" you gasped, back arching off slowly as his lower abs caught friction against your clit and his dick started ramming into your with a periodic rhythm. "fu-fuck is it your fuckin first time? for fucks sake, yuuji ngh—"
his breath was laboured, a thin layer of sweat adorning his forehead and nose, "im a quick learner, fuck— you're shi-shit, you're so fucking perfect."
lifting himself up slightly, his hand snaked in between your bodies and he found himself thumbing at your clit with ease.
"yuuji—" your voice pitched up as his circles grew in pressure. already overstimulated from his administrations on your poor cunt, you felt the pressure building inch by inch till it grabbed ahold of your body and shook you to your very core.
under him, you grabbed hastily at the sheets, at the pillow, at his hair, at anything to keep yourself on this plane of consciousness as he kept drawing messy figures on your clit and fucked into your cervix with reckless abandon.
and that unsteady, familiar feeling grew and grew and grew till it turned your body to jello and burst inwards, "f-fuck shit, ohmygod im cummin im cummin im cumm— FUCK YUUJI—"
his fingers pressed hastily against your lips but the cockiness in his voice practically dripped off of him and onto you, "shh, someone might hear, pretty."
his thrusts grew erratic, nudging him more and more towards a certain, familiar kind of high. his face found solace against your shuddering body as he cursed and spilled inside you.
"fuck." he cursed one last time as he breathed you in, just laying atop you having spent himself.
he slowly pulled himself upwards, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose, and you gave him a spent smile, the kind that had quickly became his favorite. he slowly pulled himself out, and caught the milky white gushing out of your cunt.
and with that, itadori yuuji lost all sanity.
next you knew, your face was being pressed into the mattress, your cunt being ravaged by his unforgiving dick ramming in and out easily.
"fuc-fuck, sogood so fuckin' good—"
his chest was against your back, his weight pressing down on your so deliciously and trapping you under him. you pressed your face harder into the mattress, screaming out muffled renditions of his name as he softly pinched your clit.
"i'm sorry, baby, im so fuckin' sorry" but he sounded anything but sorry as he whispered hotly in your ear, both his fingers and his dick doing everything in their power to turn you into nothing more than a woman maddened with his touch.
your fingers sunk into the sheets underneath, your death-grip growing even more deadlier as he fucked into you as a man depraved.
"this 'sthe last time," his words slurred as he left sloppy kisses down your neck, "promise, i promise."
but those promises were nothing more than candied words on his pretty lips, because now he had you on top of him, your back against his chest, his heels digging into your mattress dangerously as he fucked up into you.
"yuu— yuuJI pleaseplease ple— fucking fuc—" your voice grew in pitch, unresolved tears falling down your face as his hands fondled your tits, tugging and tweaking the nipples to his liking, and your own familiar fingers toyed with your clit.
how could he go on for so fucking long? jesus fucking christ.
"i play varsi- fuck varsity," he answered softly, "this is nothin' for me."
he pressed a soft kiss to your neck as his cock split you apart for the nth time and you fell apart on top of the man who claimed to love you more than he loved life and reason itself.
"don't." his voice grew desperate, a hand coming to hold yours over your overstimulated, abused clit, "i didn- say you could stop, did i? keep going. please. one more. fuck. please."
"yuuji stop—"
"—give me one more, please."
"pleasepleaseplease—" you sobbed, your body arching off of him as he brought you to another one orgasm. you eyes rolled back into your skull, a bit of drool dangerously on your bottom lip, and your body went slack so as to let him do as he pleased.
your cunt gushed on his dick, spraying you both in your juices he thrusted into one last time, spilling into your overfilled pussy all over again with a breathless string of pants and moans.
the quarterback collapsed backwards onto your bed with you on top of him. he reluctantly pushed the weight of your sweaty body off of him, and instinctively pressed another kiss to your head.
his hand came up to push back the sweaty hair strands that stuck to you like second skin, and to thumb at the furious blush on your cheeks. your eyes fluttered upwards at him, you barely managing a smile, "thankyou."
"for what?" he turned to his side, taking every feature of you in with a small smile. a beat passed him by in the serene room before he found his heart weighing heavily and lodging itself between his lungs.
"you're so pretty" he found himself mumbling, "i wish i- i wish i could..." but he caught himself before he could make a fool of himself and confess to a passed out girl. he bit the inside of his cheek. maybe it was better if he just left wordlessly. "nothing."
you were asleep. he knew that. but then why did you snuggle closer and whispered a soft, "i love you."
"—huH?!" any and all sanity left the jock at this point. his eyes as wide as saucers as he stared down your softly snoring form, "what did you just say?"
but you said nothing, still softly snoring in your goddamn sleep and yuuji felt like he was going insane. did you say it??? did he imagine it??? is this a punishment from the devil (sukuna) itself??? what was real anymore? was he real???
and hey what does a panicked twenty year old does when faced with the possible conundrum of his crush of fifteen years having feelings for him?? he runs.
yuuji itadori never had put on his clothes faster than he did right this moment. hastily putting one leg into the sweats and then another, he dashed to make his way to the door. before stepping out, he looked back at you one last time.
fuck itadori, are you dumb?! she doesn't love you like that. it's the post-sex hormones. his consciousness begged in the voice of megumi fushiguro, which was a bit concerning cause was the voice of reason in his head megumi fushiguro?!
but that was not the issue at hand right now. his voice of reason could be questioned another time. right now? running. yes, that was the plan.
the lock softly clicked and he stepped out into the living room before closing the door ever so slowly behind him.
"done fucking?"
and yuuji's blood ran cold.
he whipped around to peer at a certain, tatted delinquent who was sat on the couch in the living room, "brother?"
"brother? huh?" sukuna laughed, the sound so chilling that yuuji felt his blood freeze ad turn into cement, "bringing out the formalities?"
yuuji's tongue got stuck in his throat and sukuna stood up slowly, holding up his hands in mock surrender, "she wouldn't pick up my calls, and i had a spare key. sorry if i'm fuckin imposing."
"'kuna," yuuji's voice was quiet, "it's not what he looks like."
"hm, it is not?" he flashed the younger itadori an amused smile, "ofcourse it is not. what do you think i think you both did?"
"fu-fucked?" the jock swallowed hard.
"bingo."
"i didn't." yuuji didn't know if he was begging for forgiveness, and if yes, then what for? for betraying sukuna's trust or for feeling satisfied that his brother knew of his conquests?
"you didn't? from what i heard, she seemed a little too happy in there." and now sukuna stood mere inches apart, his hand balled into a neat fist.
"kun—" but yuuji's right cheek bore the fate of getting punched by sukuna.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND, YUUJI?"
the jock nursed his cheek, still reeling from the attack. but a certain flame came alive. he wasn't a fucking child. "YEAH, YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIEND."
sukuna looked at him in disbelief, "how fucking could you? she meaNS SHIT TO ME, YOU FUCKFACE."
"—SO DOES SHE TO ME."
the man stepped insanely closer, grabbing ahold of yuuji's hoodie's collar, "THEN WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU RUNNING AWAY FROM HER RIGHT NOW? HUH?"
the two boys heaved heavily, anger boiling hot through their veins. finally yuuji spat up, "she told me she loved me."
sukuna's grasp loosened, "what?"
"she fucking told me she loved me."
"and you're running?" sukuna looked at his brother with a strange look. disappointment, perhaps?
"i- it's a mistake. she doesn't." yuuji looked downwards, trying not to show his pain in his soft words, "and... i didn't want to fucking hurt you, asshole."
"so you're a coward?" the tatted man scoffed.
and yuuji pushed his brother back, "fuck you."
"no." sukuna's gaze hardened, "you fuck off, you stupid fucking dipshit. she told you she loves you, and you ran?"
"for fucks sake, sukuna" yuuji breathed in slowly, "i thought you'd be elated she probably doesn't."
"you fucked around with her for god knows how long, pretending i didn't know." sukuna stepped back, his words quieter.
"you knew?"
"i'm not dumb, of course i fucking knew." he paused, "and 'nichan told me."
"jesus fucking christ, 'nichan." yuuji looked down at the floors, "what now?"
"grow a pair, and actually ask her out."
"what?" the jock looked up, confused, "you- wait, you are saying i should ask her out?"
sukuna shrugged, "you've compromised her. you must follow through with the consequences."
"did you watch too much bridgerton? what the fuck is compromised??"
"i did, 'nichan made me watch it. pleasantly surprising, actually." and yuuji was immediately mentally slapped with the image of sukuna enjoying bridgerton.
"huh?" yuuji softly shook his head, "so... what? i like have your blessing or whatever to ask her out?"
the delinquent made a face of disgust, "i'm not a priest, what the fuck do you mean by blessing? yeah, just fucking ask her out."
"and what if she says no?"
"then i will remind you of your failure everyday in life."
yuuji looked at his brother awestruck, "thanks, kuna."
"don't. when you come back home, im gonna beat you to a pulp for fucking my best friend."
"i deserve it."
"fuck yeah, you do." the older itadori made his way to the main entrance, "go fix shit."
and as sukuna left through the door, itadori yuuji slipped back into your room, crawled back into bed with you, and held you close to his chest. softly, as a giddy smile overtook his features, he mumbled, "i love you too."
next morning you woke up next to a fully-clothed yuuji with a swollen right cheek.
"yuu?! why are you dressed?! and what the fuck happened to your cheek?!"
"i fell off your bed."
"what the actual fuck?!"
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a/n: IM GENUINELY SO SORRY IF THIS SUCKS ASS, I GOT TOO MUCH INTO CHARACTER WRITING HELPPP!! i really hope it was atleast a fun read, and as i said it took me 4 days just to make it a bit coherent since i'm writing after so long. please forgive me and enjoy the meal. [sorry for any typos and such babes] tagging: @9rvm @jellibean2018 @peekawoocc @kingofthe-egirls @hugmevz [thankyou sm for sending in the request, i was already writing it here so i tagged you <3] misc.: divider by @plutism and header format by @si-eunnis plagiarism not authorized bitch.
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