#please do not drag me for the last question...

[madamechrissy]

Caleb's favorite things

pairings - Yandere Caleb x f!reader

warnings - MDNI- just a drabble where Caleb loves putting you in a mating press, breed kink like a mf, possessive and jealous of inanimate objects that get his pips' attention, and being angry that you grip your sheets!

Caleb loves nothing more than putting you in a mating press - fucking desperately into your pretty pussy, while you're just folded in half under him. He loves any position with you, but especially this, so big over you, inside you. 'She only knows my shape, huh?' you nod weakly at that, earning him fucking you harder.

His silver dog tag is dangling as he grips your face with his huge hands so tightly, looking at you with pussy drunk eyes, glinting purple and dilated. His eyes get insane when he fucks you like this, when he gets to cum deep inside your perfect pussy. Nothing makes him more feral than picturing having you filled with him.

'That's it, gonna put so much cum in you, gonna drip me everywhere, huh pips?' he loves to talk shit, a mix of heavy praise and losing himself, you're gripping the sheets underneath you two, nodding weakly. He glares when he catches the action, pulling back and leaning on his knees.

Caleb is not just jealous of anyone near you, he also gets very jealous when you try to grab a plushie and hug it, he throws them right off the bed and fucks you harder. He hates when you snuggle even with pillows, shouldn't he be enough? and now this, it drives him crazy, he lets your thighs spread wide, glaring down at you.

'Are the sheets fucking you honey?' his tone is lilting, so soothing, when he shoves his cock in deep, watching your hips buck, cunt gushing down his thick, veiny cock.

'C-Caleb... please...' you're whining out, he feels so good, cock splitting you apart, while your hands keep gripping.

'Asked ya a question pretty, are the sheets fucking you?' you shake your head, and his jaw tenses, gripping your wrists, dragging your hands to him as he leans over you. 'Then why are you gripping them, and not me?'

You're immediately digging your nails into his strong biceps, earning his moan, when he sinks back inside you, pressing on your tummy, picturing how much cum he was gonna put in your tummy. He's thicker, pulsing as your nails dig so hard they leave marks that will last for days.

'That's it, you want all this cum, huh pips? all these babies?' you nod weakly, slipping your nails down his arms and leaving scratches, he lets out a breathy moan as he leans down, kissing you desperately. you try to bury your face in a pillow and he launches it across the room, scowling again.

'Caleb...' you're giggling, but that soon stops as he fucks you so deep your tummy is bulging with his shape, and he edges you with a rough thumb on your clit. 'please, lemme cum... please...'

'When your attention is on me, pips, only me,' Caleb's pretty violet eyes flutter shut, his dark hair falling while he toys with your slick, twitchy clit, eyeing you as he laps it off his thumb, pausing his stroke. 'Say it, only me, want me to fill you with all my babies?'

'Only you' that's all Caleb needs to roll his hips just right, leaky tip dragging on that little spot in your gummy walls, groaning out and toying your clit how he knows you like it.

'Only me, n-no more... pillows, plushies, sheets- laughin' again pips? you really never learn a lesson, do ya?'

your honor I love this man

[wishingonjellyfish]

One More Night

Synopsis: Sevika doesn’t cry in front of anyone—not ever. But when you sit her down on your bed after overhearing a conversation between her and Silco after a meeting, she breaks.

Tags/warning: smut and angst

A/N: click here

“You heard Silco,” you say, your voice quivering.

Her hand tightens on your chin, jaw clenching as her mind flashes back—Silco’s words still echoing in her head, the sharp look in his eyes, the unspoken accusation. You’re getting soft. That girl’s making you weak. His voice had been calm, but the meaning behind it hit like a knife.

Sevika’s throat tightens, her mind spiraling, but she forces the words out through clenched teeth.

“I don’t care what Silco says.”

“He’s right,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “You have better things to focus on.”

Her grip loosens slightly. She hears it—the quiet resignation in your voice—and it punches the air out of her lungs. Her head shakes, slow and stubborn, like she’s trying to fight off a reality that’s already bleeding into the edges of her world.

The lump in her throat rises fast, hard and choking, but she swallows it down and manages to speak—barely more than a breath.

“No. No, I don’t. The only thing that matters to me… is you.”

You gently place your hand on her chest.

The warmth of your touch seeps through her skin like a slow burn—so soft, so careful, it makes her head spin. Every nerve in her body goes tense. She’s doing everything she can not to grab you, not to pull you in and kiss you like it’s the last time. Her heart pounds wildly beneath your palm, like it’s trying to speak before she can.

Her voice is barely more than a breath when she finally manages,

“What are you doing?”

You don’t answer the question. Instead, you say quietly,

“I’m no good for you, Sevika.”

The ache is instant. Sharp. It cuts deeper than she expects. She tries to shut it out, tries to push your words away, but they slip through her defenses and drag her under, swallowing her whole. Her hands tremble as she grabs yours, still resting over her heart, as if holding it there might keep you from slipping away.

Then, softly—like you’re breaking right in front of her—you whisper,

“I think I’m going to quit.”

Sevika’s mind goes blank. Her eyes widen, and all the air rushes out of her lungs in a single, silent breath. There’s a high-pitched ringing in her ears, drowning out everything else. She barely registers your hand still in hers.

Her voice breaks through the noise—raw, panicked, desperate.

“No, no, no—you can’t.”

You squeeze her hand gently, trying to soothe her, even as your voice stays quiet and steady.

“Why? It’ll be better this way. You’ll see me less… you’ll find someone better.”

Her heart feels like it’s tearing in half. Her whole body starts to shake. The thought of losing you, of you walking away—it’s too much. Her grip on your hand tightens like a lifeline, and her words come out choked, almost breathless.

“No… no, I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please—don’t leave me.”

You reach out with your free hand, placing it gently on her shoulder, trying to calm her.

She flinches at the touch at first—but then she feels it, feels you. Her breathing slows just enough. She leans into you, needing to be close, needing to feel you’re still here. Desperation clings to every part of her, but her voice—though still shaky—finds a little more strength.

“Why?” she whispers. “Why would you leave?”

You don’t say anything. You just let her lean into you.

She rests her forehead against your shoulder, her body melting into yours. The contact—your warmth, your presence—anchors her, even as her chest stays tight and her heart pounds like a war drum. Still, being this close to you calms her in a way nothing else can.

“Don’t go,” she whispers, barely audible.

You remain quiet. Silent, steady.

Her breathing slowly begins to even out as she clings to you, and after a long moment, she lifts her head. Her eyes meet yours—so close now, her face just inches away. Her heart stutters. She raises a trembling hand to your cheek, brushing her fingers gently over your skin. The touch is soft, careful, almost reverent.

“Please don’t leave me,” she breathes.

You look into her eyes, holding her gaze for a long, silent second before finally speaking.

“We should see other people.”

Her entire expression shatters.

The words hit her like a blow—sharp, sudden, merciless. Pain flashes across her face, wide-eyed and raw, and she goes still. Completely still. Her mind reels, spinning too fast to catch up, and her hand drops from your cheek like the strength has drained out of her.

For a heartbeat, she can’t speak. Then, broken and pleading, the only thing she can manage is—

“No… don’t. I need you.”

“Why? Why do you need me?” you snap, your voice suddenly sharp, your anger flaring without warning. “That’s not what you told Silco.” You scoot away just slightly, your voice a low growl. “Why do you need me, Sevika?”

The sudden anger in your voice catches her off guard, and for a moment, she freezes—but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she holds on tighter. Her own frustration begins to boil beneath the surface, colliding with the ache already in her chest.

Her voice trembles as she forces the words out, emotions rushing to the surface too fast to control.

“Because you complete me,” she says, her voice cracking. “I can’t think straight without you. I can’t sleep. You’re in my head every second of the day. All I see is your face—your touch. I can’t breathe without thinking of you.”

Your eyes narrow, the pain in you sharpening into anger.

“What do you even know about me?” you spit. “You say all this, but what do you really know?”

The question lands like a blow.

Sevika’s anger collapses beneath the weight of your words. Tears rush to her eyes before she can stop them, and her body leans forward instinctively, needing to be closer, to ground herself in you. Her hands clutch your shoulders, trembling slightly, her gaze locked on yours with everything she’s got left.

“I know you’re strong,” she whispers, her voice thick, “and you’re smart, and you have a kind heart even when you try to hide it.” Her breath catches. “I know you’re everything I want—everything I need. And I… I don’t know how to exist without you.”

The last words fall from her lips in a whisper, and she trails off, her voice broken.

Your eyes soften, the sharp edge of your anger fading as your hands rise gently to her face.

Sevika’s heart twists in her chest. The second your fingers graze her skin, she leans into your touch like she’s starved for it. Every nerve lights up beneath your fingertips, her breath coming out in short, uneven gasps.

“Please,” she breathes, voice cracking, “please don’t leave me. I don’t care about anything else right now—I just need you.”

You hold her gaze, your touch still soft against her cheeks, and you answer quietly,

“That’s unhealthy, Sevika.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, her grip on you tightens—hard, desperate. She moves closer, her body almost fully pressing into yours now, like she’s afraid that if she gives you even an inch of space, she’ll lose you.

Her hand slides across your body, mapping every inch she can reach, trying to memorize it with her touch. She locks eyes with you, her own brimming with raw, overwhelming emotion.

“I don’t give a damn about unhealthy,” she whispers, her voice shaking but certain. “I want you.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“S-Sevika,” you gasp, the sound barely making it past your lips as she towers over you—fierce, vulnerable, and completely undone by the thought of losing you.

Your gasp makes her heart stutter—loud and frantic in her chest. The sound of you saying her name sends a shiver down her spine, raw and electric. Without thinking, she straddles your waist, her hands gripping your hips with purpose, grounding herself in you. Her body presses you down into the mattress, pinning you beneath her, and her voice slips out in a strained whisper.

“Say it again… say my name again.”

You’re unraveling beneath her touch, your resolve breaking at the edges. She’s not making this easy.

“Sevi, please… stop,” you beg, your voice trembling. “You’re making this harder than it already is. Just—just let me go.”

The words hit her like a slap. Her fingers dig harder into your waist, her whole body tense, trembling. Her chest aches, her mind spinning out of control as she shakes her head, refusing to let this be the end.

“No… no, I can’t,” she chokes out, her voice thick with desperation. “I need you. Please, please don’t go—I can’t lose you.”

You close your eyes, breathing hard, each second pulling you further under. Then, your voice breaks the silence—soft, shaking.

“J-Just one more night.”

Her breath catches. Her heart surges in her chest, pounding loud and fast as she stares down at you, still clinging to your waist. Her eyes dart between your face and the way your body fits beneath hers, like she’s trying to burn it into memory.

”…Just tonight?” she whispers, barely able to get the words out.

You nod, your voice quiet and final.

“That’s all. Tomorrow… you have to let me go.”

She swallows hard, the weight of your words crashing over her. One night. Just one night to hold you, to kiss you, to touch the body she’s terrified of losing—it’s nearly unbearable. But she nods, her voice catching in her throat as she forces out the words.

“O-Okay… just one night.”

Your hands come up slowly, gently, to cup her face—tender and careful like you’re already mourning her. Sevika’s eyes flutter shut, and she leans into your touch, a shiver running down her spine at the feel of your fingers on her skin. Her breath stumbles out in ragged, uneven gasps, and her voice breaks with the weight of everything she’s holding back.

“Please… please just hold me,” she sobs, her voice cracking.

Your heart fractures at the sound. You know what tomorrow means—what it will take to walk away—but you don’t hesitate. You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck and holding her tightly to your chest, like maybe if you hold her close enough, neither of you will have to face the morning.

The moment she feels you fully against her, it nearly unravels her. The warmth of your body, the way your arms encircle her—it sends every part of her spiraling. She clings to you with everything she has, her face burying in the crook of your neck as if she can hide from the future in your skin.

Her mind races—caught between the unbearable sweetness of now and the devastation waiting just beyond it. A strangled sob escapes her, rough and quiet, as she tightens her hold on you.

She wants to remember everything. Every second. Every breath. Every inch of your body pressed to hers. She wants to burn this into her soul—because she knows after tonight, all she’ll have left… is memory.

Your heart tightens painfully in your chest as you hear her sob quietly against you. Instinctively, your hands rise to her hair, fingers threading gently through the soft strands.

Sevika shivers at the sensation, tingles spreading through her body with every stroke. She clings to you tighter, her heart breaking a little more with each passing second. Every breath, every touch feels endless—and yet not enough.

Her face is wet with tears, her voice barely more than a fragile whisper.

“I love you.”

You keep running your hands through her hair, wordless, unable to get words out of your throat. The weight of it threatens to shatter you into pieces if you try.

Her whole body trembles now, shaking with the force of all she’s holding in. Your fingers in her hair are the only thing keeping her tethered, steadying her fragile heart.

She presses closer, as close as she can, as if the thought of you leaving could dissolve her into nothing. Her voice breaks, barely audible.

“Please don’t leave me… I can’t do this.”

“Please don’t, Sevi,” you beg softly, the anguish in your voice raw and trembling. You can’t bear to see her so broken, so utterly undone in your arms.

Your hand moves, rubbing slow, soothing circles against her back—gentle and steady.

“I need you. I need you so bad. Please don’t leave me.”

“Shh, Sevi. Shh,” you murmur, your touch the only anchor holding her mind from fracturing completely.

The warmth of your hand against her skin is like fire—both burning and healing.

She buries her face deeper into your shoulder, hands clutching at you like a lifeline. Her voice strains with desperate longing.

“Please… I want to feel you. I need to feel you.”

You slide your hands gently underneath her shirt, fingertips grazing her bare skin slowly, your hands move up and down her back in a soft, rhythmic motion.

Then, unexpectedly, you start to cry—quiet sobs at first, then deeper, wrenching sobs that shake your whole body against hers.

Sevika shivers, overwhelmed by the sensation of your skin against hers. The heat of your touch races along her nerves, igniting a fire beneath her skin. The sound of your crying stirs something fierce inside her, and without thinking, she clings tighter, arms wrapping around your shoulders, one hand settling gently at the back of your head.

“Shh, don’t cry… please, don’t cry,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion.

Your tear-filled voice breaks through, trembling.

“You’re crying too…”

Her heart clenches, as if your words have knocked the air out of her lungs. She lets out a strangled sob, her whole body trembling against yours. She buries her face deeper into your shoulder, tasting the bittersweet salt of your skin as tears stream freely down her cheeks, soaking into your shirt.

“I know,” she murmurs, voice raw and broken, “I can’t help it. I just need you… I need you so bad.”

You pull back slightly from her chest, then press your lips gently to the tears streaming down her face.

The warmth of your mouth against her skin shocks her whole body — a jolt that sends her heart pounding against her ribs. She lets out a shaky gasp, her mind swirling in a chaotic storm of feelings and thoughts.

“Please… please don’t leave me,” she whispers, voice trembling.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you keep kissing her face softly, your lips brushing over her skin as you wipe away her tears with slow.

Her entire body aches with the cruel knowledge that this moment can’t last forever. Her breathing quickens, desperation threading through her voice as the words spill out, raw and pleading.

“Kiss me… please, kiss me. I need to feel you. I need you so bad.”

Without hesitation, you crash your lips onto hers—urgent, breathless, hungry. Your mouths meld together.

Her lips move against yours with desperate longing, her mind empty except for the overwhelming need to taste you, to lose herself in the moment and forget everything else.

Your body trembles as you kiss her, one hand tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, desperate to feel every inch of her pressed against you.

Sevika’s heart thunders in her throat, her body aching with need. Her hands dig into your waist, gripping you tightly and hauling you closer with all the strength she can muster.

Your skin against hers blazes like fire, and she can’t hold back the ragged moan that slips past her lips as your mouths move in perfect, hungry sync.

You kiss her lips as if trying to imprint her taste into your very soul, desperate to remember this moment—and the feeling of her against you—forever.

Her hand slides up from your waist to your hips, fingers digging in, gripping you with urgent need. She pushes you gently but firmly down onto the bed, hovering over you, her face just inches from yours. Pulling back from your lips, she whispers, breath hot against your skin,

“I need you. I need you. Please… tell me you need me.”

“Sevi,” you say her name like a warning, your voice cracking.

The way you say it steals the breath right from her lungs. She’s already teetering on the edge, body pressed flush against yours.

Tears streak down her cheeks as her voice breaks in desperate pleading.

“Tell me. I need to know. I need to hear you say it. Please.”

“Fuck, Sevika. I need you. I’m always going to need you,” you confess, your voice raw and ragged at the edges.

She crushes her lips back to yours, unable to get enough of your taste, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping her alive. Without thinking, her body takes over—her hips begin to move against you, rolling and pressing closer, craving every inch of you.

You grunt low in your throat as your hips rise, rolling messily and needily against hers, matching the rhythm of your kiss.

Sevika’s mind spins out of control with the feel of you beneath her—the way your hips move, the heat of your body pressed so close. She can’t hold back the sounds escaping her lips, raw and unfiltered.

Your touch feels like ecstasy flooding through her veins. Her hands slide up to grip your hips tightly, pulling you closer as she mirrors your movement, rolling her hips against yours again.

The kiss deepens—desperate, urgent—her body trembling with need.

You let out a soft whimper into her mouth, your tongue tracing the bottom of Sevika’s lip as your hands slide down to grip the sides of her torso.

The sound sends a shiver through her body—your hands holding her so firmly, so possessively, feels electric. She deepens the kiss, inviting your tongue inside, her whole body aching to melt into you. Her hands clamp tightly around your hips, anchoring you close.

You snake your tongue deeper into her mouth, your hands exploring her sides as you continue to grind your hips against hers with slow, desperate pressure.

The sensation of your tongue sliding against hers draws a low, ragged moan from Sevika’s lips. Her head spins, thoughts dissolving into pure sensation. The only thing keeping her tethered is the overwhelming feeling of you pressed against her.

Finally, you pull back slightly, breath ragged and heavy, panting as you keep your hips moving in sync—each press and grind stoking the fire between you both.

Sevika rests her head against the crook of your neck, breath ragged and uneven, her body burning with need—never quite satisfied. Her hips roll against yours again, the heat pooling deep inside her intensifying, craving more. A soft, desperate whine slips from her lips,

“G-god, you feel so good.”

You flush at her words, hips grinding upward to meet hers. Throwing your head back, you release a low, guttural moan, panting her name,

“Sevika.”

The sound of her name on your lips sends her head spinning, her hips continuing their slow, hungry rhythm against yours. Her mouth trails hot kisses down your neck as she breathes,

“Say my name again… please, say it again.”

Your hand slides up to her stomach, pressing firmly into her skin, feeling the tight muscles beneath your fingers. You grope possessively as your hips move frantically in time with hers, groaning her name again and again,

“Sevi… Sevi…”

Sevika’s breath catches, her body trembling beneath your touch. Your voice—calling her name like a prayer—drives her wild. Her hips grind harder, a loud moan ripping free as she struggles to find the words,

“Say that again… please, say it again. I need to hear you say my name.”

Her eyes lock onto yours, desperation and need burning in their depths as she practically begs.

You slide your hand higher under her shirt, fingers grazing warm, bare skin as your hips move faster against hers. Spent and panting, you whimper her name,

“Sevika.”

Her voice breaks through the haze, trembling with need,

“Say it again… please, say my name again… I need to hear you say it.”

You chant her name like a prayer, lips barely parting,

“Sevika… Sevika.”

The coil in your stomach tightens with every thrust, your hands roaming beneath her shirt, gripping her chest possessively.

The sound of your name echoes in her mind, a hypnotic mantra she can’t escape. She grinds desperately against you, every nerve on fire, every inch craving more. Your touch sends shivers down her spine, and she presses her body closer, voice hoarse and raw,

“Again… again…”

You beg, voice trembling, “Please, Sevika, please don’t stop,” whimpering her name as her hips roll frantically against yours, your fingers teasing her nipples through soft skin.

Hearing you plead is almost too much for Sevika to bear. She needs you—needs you now. She presses harder against you, her hand tightening on your hips, breath hot and ragged. Your touch on her bare chest nearly overwhelms her, and her voice falls soft, almost pleading, “Say… say I’m yours.”

“W-what?” you ask, confused, mind blank as your hips continue their frantic rhythm.

Sevika’s control slips completely. Her hips keep rocking against yours with wild abandon, words spilling out like a desperate confession. Her hand slides up to grip your throat, holding just enough to command your attention.

“Say I’m yours. Tell me I’m yours.”

“We shouldn’t even be doing this,” you gasp, breath catching as her hips grind harder against you.

“I don’t care. I don’t care. I just need you.” Her voice rushes out, hand tightening around your throat as her body moves relentlessly against yours. Every inch of her is desperate for you.

“Fuck… you’re mine, Sevika. You’re mine,” you finally growl, hips bucking and stuttering as the coil in your stomach tightens, your climax rushing close.

The sound of you claiming her sends a jolt straight through Sevika’s body, everything snapping into sharp focus. Her movements become more frantic, grinding against you harder and faster, desperate to feel every inch of you.

“Say it again, please—say it again. I want to hear you say it, that I belong to you,” she begs, her voice trembling with need.

“Fuck, baby, you belong to me. You’re mine—mine. No one else will ever fuck you like this,” you growl, your hips rising to meet hers in a fierce, desperate rhythm.

Sevika moans louder this time, the sound raw and hungry. Hearing you claim her so possessively drives her wild, and her grip on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer, burning with need.

“Baby, I’m gonna come if you keep this up,” you groan out, frustration mixing with desperation.

But she doesn’t stop—can’t stop. She’s too far gone, lost in the moment, grinding against you with wild abandon. Her hands grip your hips tightly as her head drops close to your ear, her voice trembling with raw need, “Yes, yes—please come for me. I need to see you come.”

Your core clenches at her words, your back arches involuntarily, hips slamming harder into hers as you tremble on the edge. “Fuck, Sevika, fuck, fuck!” you cry out, hands scrambling over her back, nails digging in, leaving scratch marks.

“Oh God, yes! Yes, please come for me!” Her mind is gone, completely lost in you. The sound of your begging, the feeling of your hands on her skin—it overwhelms her. She can feel herself teetering on the brink, her body starting to shiver uncontrollably. Her vision blurs, but all she can focus on is you.

“I’m coming!” you cry out, hips stuttering wildly against hers as the wave of your climax crashes through you, overwhelming every nerve. Your voice breaks as you scream, “Fuck, Sevika, you’re all mine—you’re mine”

Her body trembles in perfect sync with yours, hips stuttering against yours, the sound of your desperate plea sending her over the edge. With a loud, shuddering cry, she succumbs to her own release, collapsing against you as her body quakes through the climax. Between ragged moans and heavy pants, she gasps, “Yes… I’m yours. I’m all yours. I’m yours.”

You lift your hand gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Your eyes, heavy with sadness, lock onto hers. “Your eyes are beautiful, Sevi,” you whisper.

The way you look at her makes her chest ache. Her breath is still ragged, her mind foggy from everything that just happened. She gazes back at you, drinking in every detail of your face. “No,” she murmurs, “you’re the one who’s beautiful.”

“Just let me have this,” you say softly, your eyes searching hers, knowing that tomorrow will change everything.

She sees the sorrow etched in your expression, and it tightens something inside her. She pulls you closer, letting out a quiet sigh, her gaze never leaving yours. “Fine,” she whispers.

Your thumb strokes her cheek tenderly, your eyes lingering on hers a moment longer. “You have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, Sevi,” you say softly, pressing your forehead against hers. A single tear escapes your eye and trails down your face.

The warmth of your touch and the sincerity in your voice send a shiver through her. Her throat tightens, and she reaches up to cup your face, her body still trembling from everything, overwhelmed by the rawness between you. “Please… don’t cry,” she pleads.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper weakly, your eyes slipping away from her face.

Her heart twists painfully at the sight of you crying. Gently, she cups your face in her hands and lifts it, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Hey, hey—look at me. Don’t look away.”

Tears continue to slide down your cheeks as you lock eyes with her. “Mmm, so sorry, Sevika,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.

The raw ache in your voice and the way you say her name shatters something inside her. A lump forms in her throat as she pulls your face into the hollow of her neck. Her arms wrap around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head. “Don’t apologize. Stop saying sorry.”

You fall silent, your sobs filling the quiet bedroom.

The sound of your crying breaks her heart, and she holds you even closer, her body trembling with yours.

You press a gentle kiss against her neck.

Her voice is soft, almost fragile as she whispers, “Please don’t cry anymore. Please.”

“It’s hard not to,” you answer softly, your voice trembling.

Seeing you like this twists her heart again. She keeps her eyes locked on yours, body still pressed against you, and leans in to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make this work,” you say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Her chest tightens, a sharp ache spreading through her. Tears sting her eyes—this isn’t how it was supposed to end. Her mind races a hundred miles an hour, but her body responds without thinking, pulling you closer in a desperate hug. Her voice trembles, nearly breaking as she meets your gaze. “Please… please don’t say that.”

“Sevika,” you say, voice weak but firm, “you know what I said. I meant it. This is the last night.”

Your words hit her like a punch to the chest. Her body trembles, and her heart feels like it’s lodged in her throat. She struggles to hold herself together. “No… no, you can’t. You can’t just leave. You’re mine. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

“You agreed,” you murmur, voice cracking.

She clings to you so tightly, speaking between shaky, gasping breaths, “I know… I know. But I can’t. I can’t live like this. I need you.”

“It’ll be okay,” you say, desperation coloring your voice, trying to convince even yourself.

She can feel the breaking in your heart, and it tears her apart. She holds on, unable to stop herself, her head spinning as every fiber of her wants to fight this. But all she can do is cry, her body shaking as she buries herself into you, trying to convince herself this isn’t how it’s supposed to end.

You sink back against the bed, pulling Sevika down with you. She clings to you, her body trembling, hands gripping the front of your shirt, her face buried in the crook of your neck.

Your fingers thread gently through her hair, silently trying to memorize every detail, engraving this moment deep inside your mind.

She feels your touch, soft and soothing, and a quiet whimper escapes her. Every second feels like torture. Slowly, she lifts her head just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes tracing the lines of your face, desperate to memorize every beautiful edge, wanting to live here, in this moment, forever.

“I love you,” you say, voice heavy with sadness.

The words strike her like a blow to the chest; her eyes sting with tears as she fights to hold them back. “Say it again, please.”

You cup her face in your hands, your voice barely more than a whisper as you say it again, “I’ll always love you.”

She clings tighter, as if trying to hold you close forever. Her voice cracks and pleads, “Again. Please say it again. Don’t stop saying it.”

You bury your face in her neck, silent this time.

She clings like she’s drowning, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. Her whole body trembles against yours, desperate for more, needing to hear it again and again. “Please don’t stop saying it. Please don’t stop telling me you love me. Don’t let go.”

Tears blur your vision at her desperation, your heart breaking. “I love you, Sevi. Always will.”

She sobs against your chest, her body shaking as she holds onto you like her life depends on it, grasping every word. “Please don’t go. I need to hear you say it again.”

Instead of saying it again, you pull her closer, drawing her into one last kiss—soft, slow, and gentle.

She melts into the feeling, lost in the press of your lips against hers. A soft moan escapes her, her hand moving to grip the back of your head. The way your bodies fit together drives her wild.

You slowly pull back, eyes locking with hers, noticing the tear stains on her cheeks.

Her gaze is blurry with tears, her chin resting against your chest, a strangled sound caught in her throat. Your faces are inches apart, and she longs to get lost here forever, but the sorrow in your eyes tells a different story.

“It’ll be okay,” you say quietly, as if trying to convince yourself.

She hears the lie beneath your words and pulls you tighter, hands clutching at your body like a lifeline. Then, burying her face against your chest, her voice cracks as she pleads, “Don’t lie to me. Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that. It’s not going to be okay.”

You stroke slow, soft circles on her back, your voice a gentle whisper, “Shh… go to sleep, Sevi.”

“Y-you’ll still be here in the morning, right? Please don’t leave while I’m sleeping.”

Your heart shatters, knowing you won’t be—but you lie anyway. “I’ll be here in the morning,” you say, glancing away.

She relaxes slightly at your words. “Promise?”

You don’t answer, just keep rubbing slow circles on her back, trying to soothe her.

The silence cuts deep, a knife twisting in her gut. She’s barely holding herself together. Her voice is fragile, broken. “Please say something… anything.”

“I love you,” you whisper weakly. “Sleep with me?”

You feel her nod against your chest. “Yes. Of course.”

Your hand continues its gentle rhythm.

“Please don’t stop. Please don’t let go. I can’t.”

“Shh, Sevika. Just close your eyes,” you murmur against her neck, still tracing soft circles on her back.

You close your own eyes, resting your head on the pillow.

Sevika shifts, seeking you even closer, needing to feel you. Her mind drifts slowly toward sleep, but her body trembles with every breath.

You wrap your arms around her tighter, pulling her close against your body. Softly, you press a kiss to her forehead.

She finally lets go, the last of her strength fading as she surrenders to your embrace. A tired, broken whimper slips from her throat as she clings to you like you’re her lifeline.

“Please… I need you. I need you so much. I don’t care. I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow. Please don’t let go.”

You stay silent for a moment, then speak, holding her even tighter.

“It’s okay, Sevi. I’ve got you right now. You’re okay.”

She can’t hold back any longer; a soft sob escapes her lips.

“I can’t… I’m losing it. Don’t let go of me. Please, don’t let go. I can’t.”

“Hey… it’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Her body shakes against your hold, tears and sobs escaping uncontrollably.

“Baby, you’re exhausted. You need to sleep.”

Slowly, she drifts off, still clinging to you, seeking comfort in your arms.

You stay awake with her, holding her close, knowing what tomorrow will bring.

Sevika sleeps through the night, her body and mind finally worn out. She vaguely feels you holding her, and instinctively, she holds you tighter.

Without a word, you slip quietly from her embrace She’s still mostly asleep when the bed shifts beneath her. The warmth that’s been wrapped around her all night—the safety, the weight, the presence—starts to fade. She can feel it even in the haze of sleep, the way you pull away. You head toward the door, your heart breaking with every step. You pause, looking back one last time before leaving her alone in the silence.

Her fingers twitch against the sheets, still clinging to the space where you laid. She tries to reach for you, but her limbs are heavy, too sluggish to respond. Panic flares faintly in her chest, distant but sharp, like a scream muffled under water.

She tries to say your name, to call you back—but the sound that leaves her lips is barely more than a fragile whimper.

“No… come back… please…”

It’s so quiet, it barely exists. A broken plea lost in the dark.

Her mind tries to hold on, to pull her back to you, but sleep is stronger—pulling her under, dragging her down into its depths. Her body finally relaxes again, surrendering to exhaustion, breath evening out. She slips away into the dream realm, too tired to fight anymore.

But even in sleep, even as her body rests, one question lingers like a splinter in her soul:

Will she ever see you again?

[dollyswishingwell]

ur last set of hc's inspired me!! ^^ I was wondering if you could please write for the lads guys with an autistic partner, where too many things have been out of place in their schedule, and they're overstimulated, and they just get really snappy (not yelling, just quiet, angry one-word answers and such) and anxious, almost in tears from such things occuring, but the problem is - they're in public. So their partner just..shuts down? Ignore this if this is too specific for your liking, or you just don't wanna do it :P i've just been having an annoying week lolol THANK YOU!! love ur writing.

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Safe space

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, literally just cute

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ The boys with a Autistic reader

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

1. He notices the shift in you immediately.

Your silence, stiffness, or clipped tone? He’s locked in. No teasing, no questions, just that quiet, serious focus he only shows when you need him.

2. Gets you out fast and silently.

Arm around your waist, hand in yours, he steers you somewhere quiet without drawing attention. Doesn’t explain to anyone. Doesn’t care to.

3. Goes totally soft and grounding.

Gentle hums, warm scarf in your hand, forehead resting lightly on yours. He keeps the world small and slow until you can breathe again.

4. Never takes your snappiness personally.

“Don’t touch me”? He backs off instantly, no fuss, no guilt trip. Just nods, gives you space, and stays within arm’s reach in case you need him again.

5. Glares daggers at anyone who judges you.

If someone whispers something nasty? His expression goes cold. “You can leave,” he’ll say flatly. “You’re upsetting her.”

6. Loves you more for your sensitivity.

“You feel too much,” he murmurs later, brushing your hair from your face. “But that’s why you’re magic. And I’ll guard every inch of it.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

1. He notices the moment things go wrong.

Your silence. Your rigid posture. The way you stop making eye contact. Zayne doesn’t need you to say anything, his hand gently moves to your lower back, guiding you out of the crowd before you even ask.

2. No questions, no fuss. Just protection.

He’ll get you somewhere quiet, an empty hallway, a stairwell, his car. He never pushes you to explain, just stays close with steady presence and low, quiet breathing to help ground you.

3. He shields you from the world, literally.

Long coat drawn around you, body angled in front of you like a barrier. If you’re overwhelmed, his tone drops to something calm and grounding:

“You’re safe. Just breathe. I’m not going anywhere.”

4. Remains perfectly composed, even if you’re snappy.

You could mutter “don’t touch me” or go completely still, and Zayne would only nod. His voice would be calm, professional, but softer than usual:

“Alright. I’m here when you’re ready.”

5. Anyone else causing trouble? They get one warning.

If someone speaks to you harshly or comments on your state, Zayne doesn’t raise his voice, he lowers it.

“Step back. Now.”

Cold. Precise. Enough to chill bone.

6. He sees your sensitivity as something sacred.

Later, once you’ve calmed, he’ll help restore your routine, down to your preferred tea, playlist, or folding the blanket just right.

“It’s alright. You didn’t ruin anything.”

Then? A kiss to your temple. Steady hands. A quiet, constant kind of love.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

1. Xavier doesn’t react with panic, he reacts with stillness.

The moment you go quiet or freeze, he tilts his head slightly, observing you carefully. Then he speaks in a soft, even voice:

“Too loud. Too much. We’ll go.”

2. He guides you somewhere calm like a ghost in the crowd.

No sudden moves, no dragging. Just his hand gently curling around yours, weaving you both through the chaos like it never touched you. His presence alone feels like stepping into silence.

3. He mirrors your shutdown energy, quiet and neutral.

Sits beside you in stillness. No pressure. Just matching your posture, slow breathing, calm presence. Every few minutes, he might murmur something like,

“I’m here. You don’t need to talk yet.”

4. He physically blocks others from approaching without a word.

If anyone tries to get too close, Xavier just… turns. Blank stare. Straight spine. The kind of quiet, unnerving presence that makes people instinctively walk away.

5. Your snappiness doesn’t phase him at all.

If you mutter “stop” or flinch, he just blinks and nods, adjusting immediately. “Understood.”

Not hurt. Not shaken. Just quietly recalibrating his comfort to match what you need.

6. Later, he handles the reset in his own clumsy but loving way.

Offers your favorite snack a little awkwardly. Wraps you in a blanket wrong the first time, then tries again. Puts on your comfort show and lets you lie on his chest.

“Sensory overload neutralized,” he says with a small nod, a smile so tiny, like he just completed a mission.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

1. He clocks the shift before you do.

The moment your breathing changes, or your responses get clipped, Sylus’s gaze sharpens. He leans down and murmurs in your ear, smug but low:

“We’re leaving. This place doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

2. Zero tolerance for the crowd.

He doesn’t shove. He moves. And people get out of his way. Whether it’s a gala or a street market, he cuts a path with sharp eyes and sharper energy, arm snug around you.

3. He handles your shutdown like a mission.

If you go quiet or freeze, he doesn’t push or ask questions. He just lowers his voice and says,

“Don’t speak. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

And he does. No mistakes. No delays.

4. Anyone who even looks at you wrong is a target.

If someone stares, he’ll smile at them, that smile.

“You look confused. I suggest you stay that way, and not get involved.”

His aura alone does the rest.

5. You can snap at him, flinch, go silent, he doesn’t flinch.

He only tilts his head and calmly adjusts, like recalibrating a weapon.

“Tch. You’re allowed to unravel. I’ll hold the thread.”

6. Later, he spoils you into calmness.

Plush robe. Favorite drink. He’s brushing your hair back and telling you about all the boring people he ignored just to come home early.

“You don’t need to be perfect out there. You only need to be mine.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

1. He notices before you say a word.

You’re fidgeting. Breathing uneven. He shifts immediately, his arm curling around your waist, voice soft against your ear:

“Hey… too much?”

No teasing in his tone, just instant concern.

2. He gets you out of there, fast, but calm.

Whether he’s in casual wear or uniform, Caleb always moves with purpose. He doesn’t make a scene. Just murmurs, “Come on. Just follow me,” and carves a path through the noise like it’s air.

3. Your shutdown doesn’t scare him, it breaks his heart.

If you go silent or can’t speak, his whole expression softens.

“Breathe, baby. Just squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

His thumb strokes yours like he’s grounding you back to Earth.

4. You can be snappy, rigid, trembling, he never takes it personally.

He’ll just nod and go quiet, sitting beside you like a warm shield. A gentle, unwavering presence until you’re ready to return to yourself.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

5. If someone stares or speaks up? Colonel mode.

His whole demeanor flips cold. He steps forward, voice low and threatening:

“Back off. Now.”

He doesn’t need to raise his voice, he commands respect. You’re his priority, not their opinion.

6. Later, he spoils you with quiet playfulness.

Blankets. Snacks. Maybe his jacket draped over your shoulders. He’ll lay his head in your lap, look up at you and whisper:

“You did amazing today. But I’ll destroy the entire planet if it happens again, just say the word.”

A smile. A kiss to your hand. Safety, always.

[teliphone]

Shush

Summary: Lee Seung-joo, a psychiatrist who treats you. Your words don’t scare her; in fact, she’s more intrigued. She wants to help you unravel your deepest, darkest secrets to heal…and even more than that. 

Warning(s): Smut, Manipulate, Fingering, Oral, Bondage, Praise Kink, Overstimulation, Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 2.2k 

-

You’ve seen your psychiatrist for two months now. Your feelings for her have increased over time. You blame yourself for being too easy. Falling for someone who listens to you for the first time?… Please, it's her job! It’s not right, yet something about her demeanor draws you. She’s quite a mystery. Her eyes are so dull, but her mouth tells of hope and advice. 

Seungjoo sits with her legs crossed in front of you. A small coffee table in between chairs to create distance. She tilts her chin down to examine the clipboard on her lap. She lifts her finger and nudges the rim of her glasses up. You play with the tip of your fingers nervously. You didn’t know what to expect. She turns her head up to give you a small smile. You nibble the inside of your cheeks as an attempt to keep calm. The sound of the clock clicks each second.

“How are you today?” She asks. Her voice is warm and deep, like a warm blanket that could suffocate you if you stay too long underneath. 

“I’m okay,” You quickly respond, straightening your back. She breathes out a small chuckle and lightly taps her papers with the tip of her fingers. 

“You sound a little tense,” She teases, “Try to relax.” 

You nervously nod your head and try to calm down by leaning back into the chair. The cushion underneath is surprisingly comfortable. Your anxiety slightly decreases. Her finger taps stop and she smiles. 

“Good,” She says before looking back at her papers. She calmly drags her finger against the paper on which she had written this morning. 

“Do you still seek any types of thrills? We briefly discussed this last time,” 

“Kinda,” You respond. She pauses and tilts her head. 

“How about we ask more personal and deeper questions today?” She begins, wanting to hear more from you. You quietly nod your head yes. 

“For me to further understand your behavior and struggle,” She explains, looking deep into your eyes, “Are you in any form of romantic relationships?”

You self-consciously dart your eyes to the side and shift in your seat. You should have known this was going to come up sooner or later. Sexuality has been something you had to discover for yourself. 

“No,” You respond. 

“Please elaborate,” She softly urges. You feel your heart beginning to race again. Your eyes lower to stare at your pants. 

“This is a safe place… I’m here for you,” She reminds you. She could read you like a book. You lift your head to look at her again. She gives you a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t like to date because everyone expects me to date someone I don’t find… attractive,” You explain while leaving out important information. She slowly nods her head in acknowledgment. Her lips turn into a small frown. 

“Why don’t you find this person attractive?” She asks, hoping to seek more. You swallow a dry gulp. You take a moment to pause as thoughts swirl into your head. You didn’t want to tell her at first, but after some thinking, you’ve realized you’ve grown to truly trust her. 

“Because this person is a man,” You softly confess. Her face remains emotionless before she simply nods her head. She brushes her lips with her pointer finger. A habit that you’ve seen her do many times before. 

“Many individuals face stress related to sexual orientation due to discrimination, concealment, internalized stigma…” She points out. She continues to explain how your view on sexuality is one of the reasons that impacted your mental health. You listen to her quietly, slightly zoning out. Analyzing how she would tilt her head when an insightful thought comes to mind. Or how her eyes slightly squint when she tries to find the appropriate word to use. Regardless of how much older she is, you were attracted. A small blush begins to form on your face, causing her to furrow her eyebrows. 

“…Have you been with a woman?” She asks, snapping you back to life. You quickly blink and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet your lips. 

“I haven’t,” You dryly cough. She begins to fidget again by rubbing her lower chin with her pointer finger. She starts to move and places her clipboard onto the coffee table. She leans back into her chair comfortably. One of her arms rests on the chair arm. Expressing her body language as confident and open. Her middle and ring fingers rub slow circles against the armchair. 

“What do you want in a woman?” She asks. Your heart begins to race again. She softly chuckles and gets up from her seat. Her shoes click against the wooden floors of her office. Your eyes shamefully examine her body. Her long and slim figure was exposed underneath her beige and white outfit. Her slightly long black hair falls past her shoulder blades. She slowly makes her way to walk behind you. 

You sit perfectly still, not knowing what to do. You hear your blood pumping in your ears. Suddenly, you feel a hand gently grip your shoulders. She bends down til her lips are the same level as your ears. 

“Do you like them…nice? Or demanding? Or maybe even a little older?” She hums. Her deep voice sends shivers down your spine. She catches the way your breathing hicks. She smiles and leans up, removing her hands from your shoulders. She walks over to her desk and sits on the edge. Her hands rest on the desk next to her hips. She stares down at you. 

“What do you think about when you please yourself?” She pushes her questions further. She wants to dig deep into your brain. She wants to know every little dirty secret you imagine. An aching craving is building in your lower stomach. You refuse to let her know you fantasize about her during dark hours. Imagining her fingers pushing and stretching you open. And how you imagine her voice telling you what to do. You squeeze your thighs together. She lifts her eyebrows in slight surprise. You don’t speak or get up from your seat, and she slowly rolls her eyes. The act alone almost made you wet. She parts her lips a little before making up her mind. 

“Come here,” She says. You stumble on your footing as you walk over to her. Her eyelids lower as she peers underneath her lashes. You stop one foot away from her. She slides off the desk and grabs onto your wrists.

She tugs and pushes you against the desk. She traps your body by placing her hands beside your waist. Her body towers over you in authority. She leans her face down close to yours. You nervously look down. 

“Do you trust me?” She whispers. You lift your head immediately. 

“Yes,” You respond. The corner of her lips curls into a smile. 

“Let me help you then,” She explains before leaning in. Her soft, plump lips touch yours. She kisses delicately and passionately. You let out a soft grunt of surprise. You forget how to breathe properly. She deepens the kiss, causing you to clench your eyes shut. Her kisses feel so good. You get lost in it. Her hands start to sneak up your shirt. She drags her finger against your spine. You arch your back, rubbing your front into her. She darkly chuckles and bites your bottom lip before pulling away. Your eyelids are heavy and your cheeks are flushed red. She drags her thumb against the button of your pants. She pauses and looks up. 

“Can I touch you?” She hums. Her eyes are dilated, almost black. Her glasses slightly fell down her nose bridge during the kiss. You lift your hands to gently push the glasses back up. Her breathing hicks a little. 

“Yes… Please touch me,” You whisper. With a swift movement, she unbuttons your pants. She shoves her hands in and pushes her hips into you, spreading your thighs apart. Her fingers nudge against the middle of your panties. You softly moan into her neck. She clenches her jaw in arousal. 

She pushes your panties to the side and slides her fingers along your core. She touches your sensitive bud, circling it in a slow rhythm. 

“You think of me, don’t you?” She darkly chuckles. She found your dirty little secret. Your silky juices leak out from your core. You tilt your head back and answer yes, mix in with moans. She collects your wetness with her middle finger. She continues playing with your nub. Rubbing your silkiness around it, making her fingers slide quicker. You begin to buckle your hips into her. 

Once she finds you wet enough, she slowly shoves her middle finger into you. You feel her fingers go deeper. You gasp and clench onto her shoulders. She hums delightfully into your ears. 

“Shush,” She warns before shoving another finger in. You cry out in pleasure. Your pants limit her movement, reducing her to only curling her finger against your soft walls. She flickers her fingers over and over. You moan loudly, thrashing your body. She presses her face against your hair. She parts her lips and shushes you again. 

“Shhhh. You don’t want to get caught so quickly, right?” She whispers. Her fingers never stop moving. Your stomach tenses. Tears start to build up in your eyes. Her pace increases and you nearly fall backwards onto her desk. Her brutal thrust into your sensitive wall is too much. You choke on your moans. She lowers her face to bite your neck. She feels your walls clenching around her finger. 

At that moment, your lower stomach snaps and you roll your eyes back. Your body trembles and jerks. Juices roll down and dampen your pants. Soft curse words escape from your mouth. She pulls her hand out of your pants. Wetness glistens on her hand and she examines it. 

She walks over to her desk and grabs a napkin. Leaving you breathless on the other side. Your chest moves up and down quickly. You close your eyes to catch your breath. She quietly cleans her hands. Once she is done, she tosses the tissue into the garbage. Then she opens her drawers and pulls out a silk scarf. She walks over to you and lifts the scarf. 

“Turn around,” She smiles. You weakly turn around and feel her pull your hands behind your back. She ties the scarf around your wrists. You try pulling them apart, but it’s tight. You turn around to look at her in confusion. She ignores you and begins to unbuckle her pants. She slides them down along with her underwear. They drop, revealing her smooth, bare skin. 

She places her hands on top of your head and pushes you down to the floor. You kneel before her with your hands tied behind your back. She stands before you, her core near your face. You now understand why she tied you. You desperately wanted to grab her thighs and shove your face into her pussy. 

She nudges her glasses up her nose bridge. She peers down at you with a small smile. You wait patiently for her orders. She laces her fingers between your hair and tugs your head closer to her core. She spreads her thighs. The smell of her arousal numbs your mind. You stick out your tongue. Once her pussy touches your mouth, you lose all self control. You drag your tongue against her hole. Her juice coats your whole mouth. You moan as you continue licking her. 

“Good girl… you’re doing so good,” She grunts, pushing her core deeper into her mouth. Your tongue slides up to play with her clit. You flick and suck against the nub. Her grip on your head tightens. Her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. Soft moans slip out of her mouth. You tilt your head up to look at her. Her stomach tenses. Her hips roll over and over in your mouth. Sweat begins to form on her forehead. Due to her movement, her glasses start to slide down again. She pushes them up and returns her hands to your head. She grips hard, but you didn’t care.

“Your mouth is so good,” She praises. You feel your core throb. You unconsciously lift your hands to spread her thighs, but the scarf limits you. You groan into her pussy, causing her to bite her lip. She continues to ride you til her legs begin to shake. 

“Don’t fucken stop,” She cusse, cheeks red. You shut your eyes and suck onto her nub hard. She jerks her hips and comes into your mouth. Her juices run down your chin. Her body twitches as she catches her breath. Her hand still clenches on your head, not letting you catch your breath. Finally, she tugs your head away. You gasp and catch your breath. You feel her wetness run down your neck. She lazily chuckles before grabbing your head again. She shoves your face back into her pussy. She grinds against your tongue with her head tilted back. She wants you to make her come over and over til she can't handle it anymore. 

[thecheshireprincess]

Birthday

Suguru Niragi x F!Reader

Summary: Niragi has decided to make today your birthday in Borderland, and he’s gathered everyone to worship his queen

Content Warning: Porn with plot, more plot/fluff in this one than in most of my smutfics, OOC Niragi (this is intentional, Reader has changed him), super talkative Niragi, kind of dubious consent at the end (Reader is more drunk than Niragi, but this is an established relationship so let’s just assume they’ve had a conversation about it), as always, Niragi pushing boundaries, some public action, cock-warming I guess, some Daddy kink (look who your author is, just be grateful it isn’t breeding kink this time)

I won't tell anyone what or what not to do, but please interact responsibly ✨️

A/N – Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in - it's Talia!

I wrote this for my sweet friend's birthday last month - I'm sorry it's so late, but I guess it's the thought that counts. I know that if you ever see this, you'll know it was for you. I love you always and hope that you're living the best life ❤️

This will be one of the last updates for the One Look Collection (I have one more story in progress that I hope to push out very soon). Unfortunately, thinking about writing this collection and Niragi in general is just too much right now and I feel like it's holding me back from writing other things.

For now, I'll be putting the collection on hiatus, but it may just become the first work I've ever officially abandoned; I just don't know right now. I hope you enjoy this one anyway, it is a real treat 🥵💕

A groan of protest falls from your lips when you stir from slumber to find your boyfriend's side of the bed empty and cold. You reluctantly pry your sleep-dusted eyes open, wondering if somehow you'd overslept and the man was off attending to his Militant duties already. But the light filtering through the curtains is still tinged red, a tell-tale sign that the sun had just recently begun its ascent from the horizon. Your otherwise empty stomach feels as though you've swallowed a rock, heart pounding thickly in your ears; your body instinctively springing up in concern. In a normal world, his absence would be no big deal, but in this particular world, anything could have happened to him and now you're filled with adrenaline and panic.

Just as you're pulling your thumbnail between your teeth in anxious contemplation of what to do, the door creaks open slowly, the missing man in question appearing in front of you unscathed. A brief once over tells you that he's dressed for the day, balancing a full tray in one hand. Niragi's surprised eyes instantly lock with your wild ones, his expression morphing into a fond smirk at your flustered appearance. You, on the other hand, are scowling and ready to smack the expression right off his face for scaring you like that.

Your boyfriend moves smoothly across the room to close the distance between you, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. One hand gingerly brushes through your untamed locks, the other tilting your chin upwards towards him. "Why are you awake, baby?" he wonders, "Miss me that much?" He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, as if you were acting weird by being awake at this hour when he was the one fully dressed and traipsing around the resort before the sun was even fully awake.

You glare up at his smug expression quizzically, narrowed eyes scanning his face to determine whether he's messing with you or not. It wouldn't be entirely surprising if he was. Niragi's quick to placate your attitude with another tender kiss, this time targeting your pouty, sleep-swollen lips. You melt easily into him, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck to pull him ever closer, knocking him off balance. He catches his weight from crashing down on top of you, his hands pressing into the bed behind you, and his knee nudging your legs slightly open for him. Your lips move gently in a soft dance with his, your noses grazing each other as you switch angles. But when you bite at his lower lip to deepen the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away to leave you breathless and confused.

With a wink, Niragi tucks you back under the still warm covers, guiding your body to relax back against the mountain of pillows behind you and pressing the long forgotten tray onto your lap. It's only now that you notice he’s brought you breakfast in bed, complete with two flutes of what you suspect to be mimosas. Your favorite. He must know that you're still confused because he proceeds to explain himself, sitting gently at the edge of the bed facing you. “You once told me that you missed your birthday party the night you ended up here, and I started thinking that we should celebrate it. Why not today?”

A sniffle escapes you as your eyes fill with happy tears, realizing just how much Niragi had changed over the course of your relationship. Once touch-starved, aggressive, and selfish, the man had become so unbelievably thoughtful and loving, at least towards you. You can’t hide the excitement that blooms in your chest at the thought of actually having something to celebrate in a world so filled with doom and gloom, and allow the grin to stretch across your face. Your fingers eagerly wrap around the glimmering stem of one of the champagne glasses, looking to your boyfriend expectantly to take the matching flute. "Thank you," you whisper, emotions still bubbling in your chest at his gesture. He grins, lightly tipping his glass towards yours with a tiny clink, "Happy birthday, angel." The tangy orange juice coupled with effervescent champagne flows between your lips and burns its way through your insides in the most sinful way.

“Now eat up, pretty girl. I have a lot planned for you today, and we need to get you moving soon,” he instructs with a sparkle in his eye. You nearly choke on the sweet strawberry you'd popped into your mouth, having expected to be kept in bed for the day, assuming Niragi’s definition of celebrating your birthday was more on the you and him only side of things. Niragi had brought other people into his master plan, and for some reason that thought only stokes the flames of desire you feel burning in your core.

For a few moments, you sit in comfortable silence while you graze your birthday breakfast. You find yourself occasionally shifting your thighs together to find some sort of friction - what can you say? Domestic Niragi is hot. “Want some?” you eventually ask your boyfriend, holding out a piece of buttered toast in offering. You were never one to eat much this early anyway. A cocky grin spreads across his face, the man lifting the nearly empty tray off your lap and setting it back on the nightstand. He shakes his head, slowly peeling back the comforter and blankets he'd cocooned around you.

"Think I’d rather have a taste of you,” he whispers suggestively, "I see that needy look in your eyes, baby. Want me so bad, don't you?" Before you can answer, your boyfriend is already settled flat on his stomach with large hands coming to gently part your thighs. Niragi growls lowly, obviously appreciating your choice of sleepwear last night - an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. "No panties last night, princess? My naughty girl," he praises, one lithe finger stroking boldly up through your folds. Your breath stutters in your chest at the sudden intrusion, the man's breath hot against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

"Already dripping for me, angel?" his voice rumbles with desire, his warm tongue flattening to lick an experimental stripe against your wet heat. You’re already panting and gasping for air before he's even really begun, hips wriggling restlessly in search of more. Niragi's forearm comes to lay across your hip bones to hold you still, stapling your body down into the mattress with very little effort. “Take it easy baby, I’m just getting started,” he groans against your pussy, the vibrations traveling delightfully through your molten core. Niragi's tongue eagerly laps up your juices, his pace growing persistent. An obvious goal in mind.

His lips suction around your swollen clit, the cool metal of his tongue ring making you shudder. Two long fingers take the opportunity to stretch easily into your tight hole curling perfectly against your gummy spot with practiced ease. Pleasured pressure builds quickly this way, both of you know it, the rough pads of his fingers bullying the soft spot with purpose. “Soak my face, princess, come on,” he’s growling against you, pupils blown wide as he watches your gorgeous body writhe and pant underneath him. The coil in your belly tightens and tightens, Niragi playing your body like a fiddle, back arching almost painfully toward his hot mouth, “Cum for me, my good girl.” The relentless stimulation and his praise overwhelm your senses, the pressure in your core squirting out on the silky sheets and all over your boyfriend's face. White hot light creeps into the edges of your vision and despite your hearing being temporarily disabled, you know that you're squealing loudly. Shaky legs attempt to snap shut around Niragi's head, but he's having none of that.

The man in question firmly holds your legs open, stroking nonsensical patterns over your inner thighs and tongue hurriedly lapping up all that you've offered him. "That's my good girl, you did so well for me," he soothes, voice raspy as he carries you through your blinding orgasm. Niragi’s pierced tongue continues slurping up through your wetness, your entire body jolting when the cool metal presses against your ultra-sensitive clit. “Niragiiiiii, too much,” you whine, gripping into his soft, black locks to pull the man up and away from your oversensitive pussy. “Too much, hm? I haven’t worshipped this body nearly as much as it deserves. You ready for a break?” he wonders, licking and biting at your chest. You nod weakly, phantom spasms from your previous orgasm still wracking your body.

“Well then, angel, let's get you off to your next destination,” he tells you, wiping his chin that was shiny with your slick. "But first . . ." He trails off, leaning over to his nightstand drawer and pulling out a wrapped package. You accept the present with widened doe eyes, pressing your lips against his, humming in pleasure when you taste yourself on him. Your tongue runs along his lower lip, taking the opportunity of his low groan to lick into his mouth and tangle with his. One hand comes up to press tantalizingly at your throat, squeezing once in warning, "If you keep that up, you'll never leave this bed, baby." Your eyelashes flutter innocently at him, the man leaning back with a groan. You'll be the death of him.

Your fingers delicately peel apart the wrapping paper, suddenly trying hard to cherish the feeling of opening a present - something you had most definitely taken for granted back in the old world. You're met face to face with a stunning emerald green bikini set, intricate gold and white beading along the strings. "Wear it for me today?" Niragi asks, studying your reaction with bated breath.

"I love it, baby, thank you," you tell him, voice a little watery with emotion again. You leap from the bed to try it on, lifting the oversized t-shirt over your head uninhibited and teasing. You slip the bottoms on over your still shaky legs as Niragi helps to situate the top over your chest. His nimble fingers loop the strings into a bow, arms instantly looping around your exposed belly, pulling you tight into his chest to hold you in front of the floor length mirror. He watches you for a moment before bowing his head to suck a bruise into the delicate skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You aren't shy about rubbing your ass back on his rock hard length, wondering briefly if you should just stay like this all day. The hand splayed on your belly travels slowly down and under the new bikini bottoms, the man groaning when he feels how you've already soaked through them. "I have half a mind to cancel everything and fuck you to the edge of your life, you minx," he tells you, middle finger circling your aching and puffy clit.

You decide that you're good with that. But your boyfriend somehow has more self control than you today, and he's quick to remove his fingers from your wetness, lewdly sucking the arousal from his digits. His hand finds yours before he can change his mind, guiding you quickly down the hall to a door you’re very familiar with, Kuina’s.

Niragi knocks three times on the hard wood, the woman popping her head out almost immediately as though she's been waiting. "You're late," she grumbles at him, tapping one foot impatiently. The two of them are still frenemies at best, even after all this time. Your boyfriend shrugs with one shoulder, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Had to take care of some things," he tells her, quirking his eyebrows, making her grimace. Her face brightens, though, when she catches sight of you, throwing the door open with a loud bang to pull you into a tight hug. “Happy birthday!” she shrieks, her loudness making Niragi scowl. “You look stunning in that color. Seriously, you are perfection. Come on, are you ready for your birthday makeover?” she asks, eyes wide and filled with excitement. Makeovers were her favorite thing, after all.

You tilt your head in confusion at her, turning back to look at your boyfriend for confirmation. He’s leaning lazily against the opposite wall, waiting for you to go inside with your friend. He nods, reaching a hand out to grip your arm and pull you close to him for a moment. “Part of your birthday celebration is getting all dolled up,” he tells you, nose brushing lightly against yours. You grin up at him, pulling yourself up to meet his lips with yours in thanks. A low groan slips out as you taste yourself still against his lips, the man licking into your mouth as he pulls you closer.

Kuina clears her throat, knowing that you’ve completely forgotten she was standing there. “Get a room if you’re going to do all of that,” she whines exasperatedly, jokingly slapping a hand over her eyes. Niragi pulls away to look up at the woman, hand still cradling the base of your neck. “We have a room,” he reminds her, “It sees plenty of action.” Kuina shudders just thinking about it, turning to walk back into the room, “Trust me, I know!”

Niragi's face is pulled into something smug and cocky, and you know you should be afraid of whatever is about to come out of his mouth. "Don't even think about covering up my marks, hm?" Kuina groans, casting a look to you to find your neck and collarbone covered in swollen red bites and bruises, "Do you have to be so possessive?" she shrieks at him, "You're like a feral dog!"

Niragi is already strutting away in the opposite direction, head tilted back in a wicked cackle.

Once it's just the two of you, Kuina leads you to sit in the squishy desk chair, rolling you to the makeshift vanity you'd helped her build over the last few weeks. The mahogany surface is littered in hair care products, make up, and a wide array of hair accessories, every that you could possibly [not] need in a post-apocalyptic world.

Hands on your shoulders, she catches your gaze in the mirror. "Are you sure we can't find you a better boyfriend?" She teases, beginning to run a brush delicately through your hair.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Niragi hadn’t cut corners. The entire pool deck is decorated with streamers, balloons, and pretty twinkling lights that would easily be the star of the show once the sun went down. You wonder briefly how many people Niragi had threatened to make all of this come together, but decide you don’t really need or want to know the answer to that. A pink, fruity cocktail is pressed into your hands by a grinning Usagi, her and Arisu pulling you into a tight hug and showering you with birthday wishes. You're completely taken aback that everyone is here to celebrate with you, the emotions threatening to spill over once again.

For the first time in forever, you feel like you can imagine your life still being somewhat normal. Like you're celebrating your birthday at a beach resort. You beat Last Boss and his presumed crush (you still need to get more information about this) at beer pong; partnered with Niragi, you beat Arisu and Usagi at chicken in the pool; and Chishiya even helps you win your first ever game of Blackjack. Between shots and lots of flowing cocktails, you find yourself passed around between all your friends at The Beach, taking a turn dancing and chatting with each of them. You're laughing harder than you have in weeks, especially as the alcohol begins to takeover and you all get a bit clumsier on your feet. Even Aguni moves you to the beat for a little while, dancing much like you would imagine a dad would his daughter. It's really sweet. It is he who eventually twirls you back into Niragi’s arms, the man pulling you close, cradling you against his chest as he rocks in tandem with you. Though he's not one for dancing very often, he humors you for a few songs before passing you back to a rosy-cheeked Kuina to dance longer. You dance until your legs won’t hold you up any longer, opting to get more drinks from the bar with your friends.

Before you know it, it’s late and the sun’s been asleep for hours; your skin sun-warmed to the touch and your head fuzzy from spending all day in the sun and drinking nothing but liquor. The majority of The Beach has filtered out from the party at this point, everyone drunk and sunburnt, but filled with joy from a great day. You and Kuina stumble arm-in-arm over to the table that Niragi is sitting at with a couple of other Militants, the latter dropping you off with your boyfriend before stumbling away to sleep it off. You give Kuina a quick, sloppy kiss on the cheek before flopping down in the plastic chair beside Niragi, the man instantly looking at you with a crooked smile. He pulls you into his lap, shielding you from the chilly night air with a blanket he'd brought from the room. His tongue and teeth effortlessly find his favorite spot on your neck, making your insides light up in desire. “Did you have a fun birthday, angel?” he asks between kisses, your dazed body responding to his hardening length underneath you. You nod in affirmation, shivering as his hands ghost along the waistband of your bikini bottoms.

"Still nice and wet for me, baby?" He wonders lowly, enticing a breathy moan from you. His impatient fingers slip under your bikini bottom hidden under the guise the blanket, collecting your wetness and circling your clit.

“I can think of a thing or two that would make it the best birthday ever,” you tell him, voice cracking as white hot desire licking up through your core and ribcage. A low growl reverberates in his chest, boldly sinking his middle finger into your needy hole. His mouth presses hot against the shell of your ear, “Is that right, angel? Cum for me without getting caught and I’ll reward you with what you really want.” Your stomach flips at his request, adrenaline surging at the thought of being fingered in front of the Militants around you. You lean back into your boyfriend's chest with a shaky breath out, the combination of his thumb swirling around your clit and his finger fucking into you leaving you buzzing and breathless.

“Ya doing okay over there, birthday girl? Didn’t party too hard, did ya? Lookin’ kind of sweaty,” one of the Militants sitting across from you calls out gruffly. The four others sitting around the table with you look up to see what he’s talking about, all of them nodding and agreeing that you seem a little flushed and maybe you aren’t feeling so well? Your stomach sinks as you think you’ve been caught, but the pleasure Niragi is giving you is too delicious to pull away from. You nod your head with a strangled hum of affirmation, Niragi taking the opportunity to slip another persistent digit inside you. Your tight pussy stretches so well around him, you can feel his length under you growing impossibly harder with a twitch. Niragi tilts his head down to study your face, “Aww, she’s okay, aren’t you angel? You just feel so good after all that attention you got, right?” If pleasure and alcohol weren't coursing hotly through your veins right now, you’d smack your boyfriend for his insinuation.

But as it stands, you’re already getting close to your high. The familiar coil has begun to wrap itself tightly in your lower belly, and you wish you weren’t sitting in front of a group of Niragi’s friends so you could beg him to get you there faster. Instead, you attempt to covertly take matters into your own hands, subtly grinding yourself into his hand and by proximity, his still covered and untouched cock. The man’s breath catches in his throat, obviously drunk off the way you're moving against him. His lips once again latch at your collarbone, nipping tiny welts into every inch of your skin that he can reach. “Go on, angel, show Daddy what you need,” he whispers just for you to hear, matching the pace that you're grinding your hips at. You suppress a whimper that threatens to give you away, the dam inside you breaking with a warm gush of arousal, soaking Niragi's fingers and jeans.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls lightly in your ear, the tiniest whimper escaping your lips as your tight cunt spasms around your boyfriend’s fingers. You dig your nails into Niragi's wrist, body shaking under the blanket from your concealed orgasm. You're left breathless and jittery and still so damn needy for him. A whine slips from your swollen lips, and you quickly turn to look up at your boyfriend, "C-can we go to bed now? Really tired." He clicks his tongue, eyes trailing almost mockingly over your flushed face, "Of course, baby. It is your birthday after all." He stands, lifting you and your guardian blanket with ease, saying the shortest good night to the Militants of all time before hurriedly carrying you to your shared room.

The second that your body hits the fluffy cushion of your shared bed, your boyfriend is crawling up the bed towards you, pants and boxers already abandoned by the door and rapidly unbuttoning his shirt. “That was fun and all, but now I want to really worship my queen,” he growls, teeth and tongue nipping a path up from your feet to your dripping cunt. You whimper pathetically when he spreads you open further with his thumb, his tongue licking straight up through your folds and suckling on your clit. “Tastes so divine, angel, fuck. You’ll make me cum completely untouched,” he whines against your sensitive skin.

Your head is thrown back from all the stimulation of the day, everything suddenly catching up to you and you want to cry. “Please, Daddyyy,” you whine, desperate to finally be spread on his cock. He hums in faux contemplation, eyes shining with mischief as he licks slowly up your belly. His pierced tongue makes your cunt drip arousal onto your comforter, swirling briefly around each of your perky nipples.

“You were such a good girl for me today, baby,” he tells you, jerking his cock in his hand a couple of times, “You ready to cum on Daddy’s cock?” A lewd moan rumbles from your chest and you nod frantically, you have been waiting all day for Niragi to finally spread you open. In one swift motion, he thrusts his leaking member up through your tight channel, filling you and stretching you so completely you nearly forget how to breathe. Your cunt feels like home to him too, the man pulling one of your legs up and around his waist, fingers pressed tight into your skin as he holds you there for a minute. You think for a moment that he’s giving you the chance to adjust to him, but really your pussy is clenched so tight around him that he has to take a moment to try not to blow his load inside you immediately.

“Fuuck, baby. No matter how many times I stretch out this perfect pussy it’s always so tight for me,” he whines, balls instantly feeling heavier against the rounded swell of your ass. “Please Niragi, moveee,” you whimper, hands reaching out for him – to touch him? For support? You don’t know, you just want more. The man responds in earnest by collecting your wrists in one of his large hands, yanking both of your arms up over your head as he pulls out to thrust all the way back in. Your other leg comes to instinctively wrap around his waist with the other one, Niragi fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He is so hard from all the teasing all day that you can feel every vein and groove in his member, all of them serving to add to your growing pleasure. “Look at how well you take me, angel,” he demands, his free hand coming to rest on your belly where you can see the outline of him pounding into you. He groans when your pussy flutters at the view, you are such a good girl for him.

It doesn’t take long for him to have your eyes rolling back into your head, his free hand having traveled down from your belly, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit for extra stimulation. Both of you are transfixed on the white ring that forms at the base of Niragi’s cock, proof that you’re getting closer and closer to climax once more.

“N-niragi . . .” you whimper, each deep thrust reverberating through your body and making you stutter, “I-I’m so close.” The sweat is beading at his forehead and dripping down his flushed shoulders, the effort he’s putting in to drill you into your shared bed at a high. A gorgeous moan leaves your boyfriend’s kiss swollen lips as he tips his head back, “Fuck, me too, angel. Gonna fill your pussy up, claim what’s mine.”

“Please,” you beg, your tight little hole clenching even tighter around his length, desperate for him to fill you with his cum. “Cum, my birthday girl. Cum for me,” he snarls, desperate for you to let go before he finishes. One, two, three more thrusts and you’re wailing, head thrown back as your back arches off the bed. You see the moon while your cunt spasms, milking Niragi’s cock for all he’s worth. He’s quick to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, rope after rope of his sticky white seed shooting into your womb. You swallow each others' moans as your tongues tangle aggressively, a mess of saliva and arousal proof of your lewd encounter. Your boyfriend pulls back, sticky forehead pressed against yours, allowing him to take in your glowing form underneath him as you work through your aftershocks.

Niragi catches himself from collapsing on top of you, rolling the two of you gently so his softening cock can stay inside while you rest on his chest, never once tearing his eyes from the way your gorgeous, dewy skin. You tilt your head up to capture his lips in another lazy kiss, lips moving gracefully against his as cum starts to leak out from inside you.

Tiredly, you lay your head against his bare chest, eyes barely staying open after such a long day. Your boyfriend’s nails scratch soothingly along your bare back and arms, effortlessly lulling you into a heavy slumber. You can get cleaned up in the morning, it is your birthday after all.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, “I love you.”

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Alice in Borderland Tag List: @potato-vagina @28361573 @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mocchii-writes @monkey4lifer @trinibadgyal @izzybizzyk @tammytaamm

Masterlist

Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of my tag lists! You can specify if there's a character you like or if you want to see everything. Also, my asks and messages are open, PLEASE reach out, I would literally die to interact with you; ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

[chrissy-kaos]

that person talking some dumb shit, you are gorgeous, hun

i am hugging you and kissing your cheek as long as you're okay with it

Thanks hun! I appreciate that more than you know!

Oh and I’ll take as many hugs and kisses I can get rn!

[fushiguho]

warnings pussy whipped satoru, breeding :p

satoru gojo who gets sooo fucking drunk off the way you ride his cock that he’s drooling all over himself. splayed beneath your body and blabbering, a rivulet of saliva dribbling from the corner of his gaped mouth, trickling down his neck.

scattered wisps of ivory adorn the pillow beneath his head, stray pieces framing his perfect face and wreathing around his chin. he’s not there, not really, yet all he can feel is you. clinging to your pretty body with searing hands, pulling you closer, fucking you deeper. he wants to consume you—embody every last bit of your overwhelming pleasure to absorb you wholly, completely.

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he babbles in a single, gasping breath. his hands reach for the sides of your face, pulling you close. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty… god, you feel s— so good, gimme a kiss, baby.”

the kiss is so sloppy and haphazard and wet. and his lips are feverish as he whines into your mouth, hungrily sucking on your tongue. something of a whimper leaves him as he briefly parts from your mouth, a thin gossamer of glittery saliva wedding your lips.

a roaming hand finds yours, grabbing it before greedily directing it toward his parting lips. three of your fingers are prying his jaw open, pressing against the jagged point of his canines. satoru let’s off the prettiest groan, his warm wet tongue dragging over the soft pads of your digits before closing his lips around them and sucking.

“phf— fuck meee,” he muffles, slobbering down your knuckles.

the boy is whipped.

his eyes have gone dark, pupils blown into pretty, lustful hearts. you could do anything to him and he would let you, or even beg you. he will never be ashamed of his need for you, for your body. not even as his desperate hips begin to rut beneath you; sloppy and stuttered as he greedily follows the pounce of your body.

he needs more. needs to feel the tightening of your messy little pussy around his cock, and the way you’re going to drip all the way down to the fat of his swollen balls when you finally cum on it like he needs you to.

“fuh— fuck me, baby.” a pretty, unabashed groan follows his request, head woozy as it sinks deeper into the plush pillow. “ohhh, fuck me… please, fuck me h-harder. oh my… oh my god, i need it.”

satoru watches as you reach behind yourself, blindly grabbing ahold of his tensing thighs. he hiccups when you lean back, drunkenly following the undulation of your hips as your head lolls to the side, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. his hands are reaching out for you, desperate to feel the buck of your body as you take his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever fucking do.

his lips part, brows screwing together. “like that… fuck me like that.”

“like this?” you hum, a teasing lilt in your voice.

he nods dumbly, mouth gaping while a fleeting breath escapes him. big, greedy hands wander your body—smoothing over the fat of your ass, trailing up the sides of your waist, dragging over those pretty, sensitive nipples. his palms are even creeping beneath the depraved arch of your back and forcing you deeper.

“m’gonna cummm,” it’s a whiny little breath, lips twisting while his face contorts in overwhelming pleasure. “c-can’t hold it, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.”

“inside.”

“huh?”

“please?” you breathe, rolling your hips once. “cum with me.”

a beat passes and his hips stutter, cock twitching inside of you. he doesn’t even question you, instead he’s reaching a hand between your searing bodies to circle your aching clit with the warm pads of his fingers, encouraging your looming orgasm. satoru exhales a nasty moan when your hips buck harder, your pretty pussy tightening around him in desperation.

“cum with me.” you whisper again, pulling his lips between yours in a messy kiss.

and he does, immediately. he’s filling you up with sloppy thrusts, whining into your mouth like the prettiest, most disciplined boy. your wet, aching pussy throbs around all of his warm cum as he messily empties himself inside of you. sinful strings of arousal stretch between your sexes as satoru nurses you through your own orgasm, inadvertently fucking his seed deeper.

as you cum around him, your bountiful arousal spills all over his swollen balls, eventually dribbling down far enough to ruin the silken sheets beneath him. his chest heaves, hips bucking shallowly in efforts to chase his cum as it dribbles from the seams of your pretty, overstuffed pussy.

“baby, i wanna cum again… think i can get it deeper this time.”

[tsuutarr]

Rich! Yandere x Chill! Reader

Work is a drag – your supervisor expects mountains from you while allowing himself to pick pebbles. He expects you to be there before him and leave after him even though he allows himself to arrive late and leave on time. He expects you to respond to every email and ask questions but ignores emails sent his way. He condescendingly laughs at you and gets annoyed at you making mistakes even though he’s made plenty himself.

In conclusion, you’re about to lose it. Go absolutely bonkers.

Still, you gotta earn money somehow, so…

You really have no choice but to continue onwards.

But seriously, who thought a cycle of work and work and more work was a good idea? You have a few choice words for them. Especially since you’re forced to stay longer than you want to because your stupid supervisor decided to give you work at the last minute, two minutes before you clock out.

By the time you arrive home, you’re dead tired, absolutely unable to keep your eyes open. You tell yourself that you need to get changed, eat dinner, brush your teeth, catch up on your weekly show… but your body is too tired to obey any of that, so it’s lulled into a long, dreamless slumber.

When you come to, you wake up on a gorgeous bed in a gorgeous room. You’re disoriented, absolutely positive that you’re dreaming. But you don’t wake up even after pinching yourself so… this must be real?

Your thoughts are interrupted as the doors to the room open, showcasing a handsome man. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him on the news somewhere. Probably. Anyway, the point is that he’s handsome.

“Are you feeling all right, Darling?” he asks, voice velvety smooth and deep like dark chocolate.

“I guess?” you say, feeling surprisingly calm. He blinks at you.

“Ah… are you not going to ask where you are…?”

“Oh, right.” You nod. “Where am I?”

“You’re at one of my mansions,” he responds, smoothing out his dress shirt. “I’ve selected the best one, just for you.”

“Oh wow.” Flashes of your dingy one bedroom apartment flash through your head. “That’s great.”

“And of course, you’ll have everything provided for you. If you need anything, just tell me – I can get you everything you desire.”

“That’s amazing,” you respond. “I’m in.”

“Wha–” he looks at you, shocked. “I knew you were in dire financial straits but… aren’t you going to be wary of me, Dear? I mean, I kidnapped you?”

“My guy, the economy is awful, I hate my job, and I really just want to enjoy life for once. I am not complaining.” Shrugging your shoulders, your gaze remains steady on him. “Besides, you’re easy on the eyes.”

A bright red blush splatters itself across his cheeks, forcing him to clear his throat. “W–well, I’m pleased that my appearance is desirable to you.”

“Yup,” you reply, before looking at him curiously. “So like… did you stalk me or something? Put trackers on me?”

“Wha–”

“Well, it kinda seems like you’ve been after me for a while, I guess. Sorry if I’m wrong?”

“Well, no, you’re not… incorrect. But does that not bother you?”

“I mean, social media already has all my info anyway, so…” you hum thoughtfully. “Hm. Anyway. Does kidnapping me mean that you won’t let me go out again? A lot of stories have the guy locking their love interest up.”

He blinks. “I… suppose so…?”

“I don’t entirely mind, but I feel like I’ll probably go nuts if I’m not allowed to go out at all. Can’t we compromise? Like… you can have your trackers on me or have someone follow me around. Actually, why don’t you come along?”

He blinks. “Pardon?”

“I mean, it’s a fair trade, isn’t it? I have friends and family that I gotta see so I don’t go insane, but like, I don’t mind spending most of my time here. And if I do go out, you can just keep track of that. Plus it’s not like I have money or power to actually run or something anyway.” You nod, certain.

“You… you’re certainly rather… receptive to this whole situation.”

“Again, the economy is trash and you’re hot.”

He clears his throat, looking embarrassed. “W–well, it isn’t the worst idea in the world, I suppose. However, the world at large is quite dangerous. You can’t fault me for wanting to keep you locked up. It’s the best way to keep you safe–”

“Oh, I know!” you snap your fingers. “Let’s get married.”

“...Excuse me?”

“I mean, that way you’ll legally be my family. Then you can be with me ‘til death do us apart. Or something.” Satisfied, you nod. “Good idea, don’t you think?”

Gears whir inside his head as he looks at you, completely flabbergasted by your proposal. He’s happy that you seem satisfied with the situation and want to marry him but… but…

“Good idea indeed,” he agrees, fully abandoning any notion of common sense (not that he had much to begin with). 

Your willing acceptance of your situation wasn’t what he was expecting, but… who is he to complain?

It’s working in his favor, after all.

[femmefruit]

having your dom sit you in their lap with a vibrator pressed between your pussy and their thigh.

a simple enough variation to your usual routine of thigh riding, you let out a pretty sigh and rock your hips forward once before you feel their hands grip your hips to stop you.

“be still for me, baby. no grinding, can you handle that?” you know the sweetness behind the question is all for show, that it’s designed to make you feel small and disgustingly needy. it works. you’re nodding stupidly, already letting the vibrations between your legs overtake your thoughts. they appraise your expression, the way it starts to shift from attentive to blissed out, and turn the vibrator up one setting for good measure. “good, baby. i knew you could do it.”

it’s harder than you thought it would be, holding still through the pleasure. your brain, warm and gooey, keeps trying to urge you into your usual routine of humping away at whatever your partner puts between your legs. every time your hips twitch or shake, their grip tightens around you. you wonder if it’ll bruise. you hope it will. you know you’re getting close, drooling as you kiss and bite at any inch of their skin you can reach without moving your hips. a particularly insistent throb of your pussy threatens to drag you down into an orgasm, and you remember your manners at the last second.

“can i cum?” shakier than you would’ve liked, followed by a long moan. a beat of silence hangs in the air as you realize the answer, but it doesn’t stop you from pleading again, “can i? please?”

“no, baby. wait.” your ensuing cries are hushed, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently as though you’re not being tormented. you wind up to object again but you’re silenced by a tug on your hair that forces you to look them in the eye. “quit, baby. you know you like how it makes you feel, so wait.”

your cheeks flush hot at the accusation, knowing how much truth it held. your eyes start watering as you try to look for a way out, knowing just by their tone that this will not be a time where you could get away with cumming on accident. you drop your head to their shoulder and try to lift your hips, only to be forced back down onto the toy. your brain vaguely registers the instruction to “sit your ass down and be still,” but it’s nearly drowned out by the wail you let out as you connect with the vibrator again. you start shaking your head, pushing back against their chest in an effort to separate yourself from the overwhelming pleasure while your hips stay locked in place by strong hands. how long have you been holding this orgasm? a few minutes? seconds? it feels like it’ll never end, like you’re letting them dangle you over a cliff for their own pleasure, watching you fight and cry while you try your best to follow the instructions given.

they pull back again to admire the distress on your face, letting out a pleased hum at the state you’re in. you’re whimpering constantly, head resting pitifully on their shoulder. they know they could stay there forever, keeping you desperate and pliant as you pant into their neck. they give an experimental bounce of their leg that sends you into another fit of moaning and begging.

“please, please! i need to cum, daddy. i wanna be good but i’m going to cum, can’t hold it anymore. need you to say yes,”

the grin that spreads across their face could only be described as lecherous, listening to the way they’ve absolutely ruined you. they have to get in close to your ear to ensure you hear, holding you still through the fight you’re still putting up as they press a kiss against your temple. “go ahead baby, give it to me,” they groan out, hearing your moans start to pitch up before they even get the sentence out. as if you needed any help to ride it out, they press you down harder against the vibrator, coaxing out sob after sob as your orgasm tears through your body.

“shh, baby, i know. it’s good isn’t it? why don’t you do it again for me since you were so well behaved?”

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ it's sticky, toshi... ❞

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : you help ushijima finally realize that he's got a breeding kink

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...cw : u. wakatoshi x fem!reader, dirty talk, messy and wet, teasing, marathon sex, pet names, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy, ushijima can't stop cumming

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : haikyuu save me, save me ushijima wakatoshi, SAVE ME !! anyways hi i spent 150$ on ushijima merch yesterday and i don't regret it, so say hello to my haikyuu phase coming back !!!

ushijima having a breeding kink isn't a surprise to you at all.

what is surprising is how long it takes for him to figure it out.

sure, at first it wasn't clear, but after being with him for so long, you quickly pick up on whenever he'd mutter in your ear as he slid his stupidly big cock inside of you, saying how badly he wished he could cum inside of you instead in the condom.

afterwards, he's so focused on cleaning you up and making sure you felt good and satisfied, you don't get a chance to question him on it. not that you were complaining, ushijima is so cute when he's asking if you need anything and constantly reminds you to get up and go use the bathroom.

it's even cuter when he realizes you can't walk.

"ah. i'm sorry, i didn't realize how hard i went...here, let me help."

eventually, you to suggest things to ushijima, trying to test out the waters with him.

you start by just asking if he’d want to fuck you without the condom, what he thought about cumming inside, even jokingly saying you’d make him a dad one day.

but it seems like that last part was swimming around his head for a while...he can't get the thought of you getting chubby and round with his kid out of your head. and knowing he'd be able to take care of you all the time? that thought alone made him shiver a little.

what can he say, he loves doting on you more than anything.

however, you aren't expecting the way he reacted weeks after dealing with your teasing and questioning, fueling the thoughts swirling inside his head.

"toshi, if you ever cum inside me, you should set it as your phone background! actually, wait, no, because what if your teammates see it..."

"..."

"mm, maybe a video instead? ooh, yeah, i want a video of you cumming in me then pullin' out so i can see it spill out, toshtosh, would you do that f' me?"

he doesn't reply and doesn't give you a chance to comment again. the visual you painted in his mind just too much for him.

next thing you know, ushi's got you folded in half on the bed, making sure you feel every drag of his stupidly fat cock against your hot gummy walls. he's pulling out to just the tip before slamming back inside you, groaning each time you let out a whimper of his name or squeeze down on him.

"toshi, t-toshi! h-hoohmygod, please, baby, c-calm down, 'm sorry f' teasin', oh my goddd...!"

you're so fucking wet and noisy, he wants to make you be quiet because he feels like your going to make him cum too fast but he'd never ever do it as the thought of not being able to hear you is painful.

he's lost track of time, your cunt making him brainless as he pumps his cock in and out of you as he groans your name, one of his hands pinning your arms to your back while the other presses your head into the pillows.

"s-shhh, honey, let...let me make you feel good, y're so loud..."

it's so fucking messy and sloppy, his cum is dripping out of your tight pussy from how many times he’s emptied his load into you, but he still isn’t stopping, no, he can't. it’s leaking from between your thighs, leaving a milky white sheen on his dick, dripping down onto the bedsheets.

"m-mmh, nooo, toshi, don' wanna be quiet, i-i wan' you to hear how good you make me feel, baby," you purr between moans, knowing that your voice was enough to get him off. the throb of his dick inside of you told you that you were right.

“i...i thought 'bout fucking you like this all day, during practice…that i’d fuck you full of my cum, get it so deep inside you," he mutters with a grunt, moving his hands off you so he could drape himself over your back.

"f-fuck, everyone knew something was off, kageyama kept asking me if-if was okay, how 'm i 'posed to tell him my pretty little honey is waiting at home for me to fill them with my cum?”

with an affirming coo, you manage to tilt your head to the side to look over your shoulder, wanting to see how ushijima is holding up and god, the sight is so sinful.

ushijima's dripping in sweat, his bottom lip swollen and puffy from his teeth digging into it. his fluffy hair is messy and sticking to his damp forehead, and his eyes are shut, squeezing in pleasure when the head of his cock brushed against that sweet spot just right, making your cunt spasm around him.

but his eyes keep opening to see the mess between the both of you. each thrust causes his cum to spill out around him, loud, wet squelches filling the bedroom. and it's only fueling his need to fill you up again, and again, and again, until he can’t anymore.

ushijima can’t stop himself, flipping you over onto your back and folding you into a mating press and, god, he's so fucking happy he did. the way you sob his name, your nails clawing at his back as you cry in pleasure about how much deeper he is now driving him insane.

“t-toshi, cum in me, please, wanna make you a daddy, please.”

“I know, baby, I’ll give you all of it, fuck you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”

fuck, he’s so loud, he sounds so good. ushi's deep, drawn out groans and pants of your name making you go dizzy, his big hands squeezing your waist tightly each time your hands tug at his hair.

“mm, fuck, that’s right, take all my cum, look at you, so good, can you take more? let...let me cum in you again, baby, you promised you’d make me a daddy, right? i-i need to make sure it sticks.”

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[fatherbrat]

TELL ME AGAIN, R. SUNA

sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"

wc. 2k

Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home. 

He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.

His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his. 

He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.

He jumps when the doorbell rings.

There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.

“Hi,” you breathe.

He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.

You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”

Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway. 

You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.

“So why’d you come over?” he asks.

It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”

“Did I?”

You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.

Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”

Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over. 

“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”

Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”

Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.

He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”

You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.

“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.

He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.

You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you. 

You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.

Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”

“Rin.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”

He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face. 

It’s not enough. 

“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.

Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.

You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”

You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”

“He’s steady.”

Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”

“Stable and secure and safe.”

Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.” 

“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”

It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.

If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”

He’s right. “You’re wrong.”

“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”

You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.

And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.

You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck. 

You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up. 

His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you. 

Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare. 

“What?” you ask.

He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.

He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”

You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you,” he says softly. 

Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”

He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut. 

“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”

Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs. 

He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name. 

“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”

You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.

All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—  

You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.

You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.

“You should break up with him.”

You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”

“Today.”

A pause. “Okay.”

There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–

“You should date me instead.”

You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.

You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.

It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.

“Okay.”

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

“vickie!” eddie practically screams from his kitchen, rage coursing through him as he stares down at the tabloids spread out in front of him on the counter. “get in here! now!”

eddie’s had an issue with his rage lately. well. he’s had an issue with a lot of things, since he got famous, really. but that’s not his problem right now.

his problem is he’s looking down at image after image of himself on the covers of people and us weekly and entertainment tonight being dragged out of last night’s night club by his own security team with blood pouring from his nose. he looks angry. he looks crazed.

just then, a stranger walks into his kitchen.

“who the fuck are you?” he blurts out at the man, who’s wearing a dark green sweater vest over a white t-shirt and tortoise-shell glasses.

“i’m steve,” the weirdo stalker says, smiling brightly. he has surprisingly swoopy hair for an insane fan. “i’m your new assistant.”

“where’s vickie?” eddie asks, rubbing at the sore spot on his nose. thank god it’s not broken.

“you fired her,” steve tells him. “two days ago.”

“i fire her all the time.”

“ok, well… i guess this time it stuck,” steve shrugs. “chrissy hired me.”

“fucking chrissy,” eddie says under his breath, rolling his eyes. he pulls out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and speed dials chrissy. “chris, what the fuck?” he doesn’t even give her the chance to say hello.

“good morning, eddie. i’m doing really well, how are you?”

“not fucking well, that’s how i am!” eddie practically yells into the receiver. “what the fuck? did you see the pictures? and who the fuck is this guy in my house?”

“yes, eddie, i saw the pictures.” eddie can hear the eye roll in her voice. “we’re handling it. nancy’s already on it with the team. what was the other thing?”

eddie knows she’s fucking with him and that pisses him off even more. “who is this freak in my house wearing a goddamn sweater vest?!” he feels like a blood vessel in his eye is about to pop.

“hey,” steve protests softly from across the kitchen where he’s started to pull shit out of eddie’s fridge. he didn’t even know there was anything in that fridge.

“that’s not a very nice way to talk about your new assistant,” chrissy’s voice comes loud and clear through the phone.

“christina fucking cunningham, you know i have final say on all hiring decisions when it comes to my assistants.” he rubs at his sore nose again.

“you had final say on all hiring decisions until you fired vickie for the thirteenth time and she refused to come back, even with a three hundred percent raise. we’re going in a different direction now.” chrissy sounds entirely too pleased with herself.

“well, i fucking hate him,” eddie grumbles and watches steve to make sure he’s heard him. steve doesn’t even react, just continues doing whatever the fuck he’s doing with the frying pan he’d found in the cabinet.

“you don’t even know him, eddie. give him a chance. anyway, i have to go, i have brunch plans with my very beautiful, very intelligent, perfect fiancée,” chrissy tells him, gloating, before hanging up on him.

eddie wants desperately to throw his phone across the kitchen, but if he breaks this one that would be his fourth phone in three weeks and he couldn’t bear to have to ask this steve person to go buy him a new one. he settles for squeezing it in his hand until it creaks while taking several deep breaths through his nose.

“what are you doing?” he grits out.

“are you always this rude?” steve asks, ignoring his question.

“to weirdo freak strangers showing up in my house unannounced? yes.”

“it’s not unannounced, chrissy wrote it on your calendar.” steve gestures toward the paper calendar hanging on the side of the fridge where chrissy writes his major life events and which eddie mostly just ignores before sliding a plate full of food toward eddie.

“what is this?” eddie sneers.

“it’s an omelette with cheese and mushrooms,” steve replies, smiling. he’s always fucking smiling.

“i’m allergic to… omelettes,” eddie says, just to be a dick.

“no you’re not. you’re allergic to blueberries and dust.” steve doesn’t stop smiling pleasantly.

“did you get access to my medical records? that’s a violation of my… whatever rights.” eddie waves a hand through the air.

“no, i didn’t go look at your medical records, jesus. i’m not a stalker. chrissy told me when she hired me.”

“whatever. i still fucking hate you.”

“okay,” steve shrugs again. “eat your breakfast.”

eddie has every intention of leaving the kitchen, full plate of food and all, but. he is hungry.

so he eats.

and he’s pissed that it’s actually good.

~*~

eddie spends the rest of the day being a general nuisance to steve any time he tries to do his job. when steve answers the phone before handing it to eddie, eddie “accidentally” hangs up on whoever it is on the hand off & makes sure to blame his new assistant when the person finally calls back. when steve has to drive him to his meeting with nancy and the pr team, eddie tries to give him the wrong directions, but steve’s too smart for that. when steve has to do the grocery shopping, he makes steve go to the erewhon all the way across town during rush hour because the one down the street “just doesn’t have the same vibe, steve.”

and all the while, steve just does his job, still smiling, not getting angry at all even though it’s beyond obvious eddie’s being a little shit to him.

which honestly just pisses eddie off more than anything else today.

“here’s some aspirin,” steve says, placing two white pills on the coffee table in front of eddie, along with a mason jar of water. eddie, lounging on his big squishy couch, pulls the ice pack away from his nose, which has started throbbing again. “you didn’t have any glasses.” steve shrugs when he sees eddie’s arched eyebrow looking skeptically at the jar of water. “if you don’t need anything else, i’ll take off for the day.”

it’s past 8pm already, long after steve should have left for the day except that eddie had made him stay to organize his extensive tshirt collection by color, shade, and design before he could even think about going home. it was an emergency, after all.

“i’ll have to check the t-shirt closet first,” eddie replies, before swallowing the aspirin dry. steve shrugs again and rolls his eyes. eddie would say something about his blatant rudeness, but he’s too exhausted.

eddie pulls himself off the couch and makes his way down the hallway to his “t-shirt room.” it’s so stupid, but he has all this space and he’d started collecting the tshirts so long ago. they’re not worth anything, they’re just his wardrobe but… they remind him of wayne and the thrifting they used to do every saturday morning.

the organization eddie had been having steve do was entirely arbitrary. it’s not like eddie plans his outfits. he mostly just pulls whatever out of wherever, unless it’s an event and then he pays someone to do the deciding and dressing for him anyway.

but. steve’s organized the t-shirts by genre and subgenre and then by band alphabetically and finally color. more than eddie had even asked him to do.

eddie had come in here fully prepared to rip steve a new one, but even he can be shocked into appreciation.

steve notices eddie’s silence and grins.

“can i tell you something?” steve says pleasantly and then continues without even letting eddie respond to the question. “i know i look like a nice polite guy next door that moms totally love—it’s the sweater vests, i think.” steve plucks at his top. “and that’s true. i am a nice polite guy and moms do love me. i’m awesome.” his grin widens. “but i got kicked out of my parents house when i was 18 and i lived in my car for a while. i’ve been on my own for seven years. i made a life in LA out of nothing. so you can throw your little temper tantrums and tell me how much you hate me. you can make me go to the erewhon all the way across town and you can make me look incompetent to my colleagues. but i need this job. i’ve worked hard for this job. this job pays more than any other job i’ve ever had combined. and you’re hardly the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. so you can continue trying to make my life miserable—hell, i’ll even give you my dad’s number, you guys can swap ideas!” steve laughs at his own joke before turning serious for the first time all day. “but i’m not vickie. you won’t make me cry. you can’t fire me. i’m not going anywhere.” he claps his hands together. “anyway, i’m gonna take off, since i have plans with my actual friends. but hey, i’ll see you tomorrow, huh?” and he smiles again, giving eddie a small waggle of his fingers, before heading out through the door.

eddie’s still just standing there in the middle of his tshirt room when he hears the front door slam shut.

part two

[lazysoulwriter]

no calls go unanswered - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: fluff, celebrity!Pedro Pascal x wife!reader, FaceTime call during live interview, casual flirting, audience reactions, bilingual teasing, wife laughing on air, Pedro being soft and whipped.

---

Jimmy is mid-question, something about The Last of Us and the intensity of filming in the cold, when Pedro’s phone buzzes on the armrest beside him.

He glances at it once, does a little double take, and mutters, “Oh no.”

Jimmy raises a brow. “Everything okay?”

Pedro lifts his hand apologetically, already reaching for the phone. “I’m so sorry—my wife’s calling. I have to answer. I always answer.”

The audience laughs, thinking it’s a bit, but Pedro’s already tapping the green button.

“Hi, amor,” he says, screen lighting up with your face.

You’re in your kitchen, wearing one of his sweaters and sipping coffee. “Hi, bebe. You forgot to pick up the almond milk again.”

Pedro blinks. “I’m on Jimmy Fallon right now.”

Your eyes widen for half a second—then you burst into laughter. Loud, real, belly-deep laughter that carries right into his mic.

The crowd erupts.

“Díos mio” you say between giggles. “Are you serious? Right now?”

Pedro holds up the phone like he’s showing off a masterpiece. “Say hi to America.”

“Hi, America!” you beam, still laughing. “This man left his socks on the bathroom floor again, by the way.”

“Babe,” he groans, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re exposing me on national television.”

You smirk. “Good. They should know how real love survives sock chaos.”

Jimmy’s nearly crying with laughter. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened on this show.”

Pedro’s grinning now, eyes soft. “Can I call you back in twenty minutes, my love?”

“Only if you promise to bring almond milk and stop leaving your towels on the bed.”

He sighs. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you sing, blowing him a kiss before hanging up.

Pedro turns back to Jimmy, cheeks a little pink. “Sorry. She forgets I’m famous sometimes.”

Jimmy leans in, teasing. “Honestly? So do we. You're just Pedro and Wife now. America's couple.”

The internet, of course, would clip the whole thing before the night even ends. One fan account captions it:

“He always answers her calls. I’m crying real tears.” Another adds: “Their chemistry is insane. She roasted him AND flirted mid-interview?? QUEEN.”

And the top comment just says:

“He found a real one.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[screampied]

Imagine how much stamina jjk men has during sex, can you please make this a multi headcanon?😭😭

❛ RIDE IT LIKE YOU OWN IT! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, choso, sukuna. rating the jjk men stamina and how long they last.

warnings. mdni. fem! reader, multiple órgasms + rounds, dirty talk, praise, doggy, full nelson, daddy kink, unprotected s*x, pussydrunk men, breath play, squirting, breeding kink.

word count. 2.6k

☆ GOJO

without question, gojo could last for hours. many, many rounds. you’d be so drunk from his cock that by this point his moans start to grow even louder than yours.

“f-fuck, the way you fuck back against me,” he’d groan, his bottom lip pokes out before he’s got a mean grip on your hips. you’re just being drilled by this point from his dick, your head thwacking and hitting back and forth against the cushioned mattress. he’s so whiney, huffing and puffing as his eyes stared right at the mounds of your ass. you’d be slamming back into him, and your ears just ring from each individual spank he gives you. “how long ‘s been, baby—? gettin’ tired yet?”

“no,” you’d moan, and he’s buried balls deep, its like fatigue for him just wasn’t real. entirely nonexistent. gojo pivots his hips, rolling it against you while skimming his thumbs against your waist and you whine. “don’t s-stop.”

“wasn’t gonna,” he groans, and he feels the warmth of your feet wrap around his calves—you were speechless, mouth dangling open as he’s thrusting deep deep into you. “princess, y’know what you can do for me?” you swallow, feeling gojo lean in right up against your ass, one hand clinging onto your hip, another going between your legs. “play with yourself for me. remind me how much of a messy girl you are.”

“okay..” you’d whine, dragging a hand amidst your legs.

you wince at bit at the feeling of your thin panties sticking against you. gojo made you keep them on, lazily just pushing them towards the sides of your legs, all because he couldn’t wait. impatient.

whenever gojo would come home from day long missions, he’d give you bedroom eyes almost instantaneously. and you knew what that meant.

“s-satoru,” you’d babble, rubbing a few fingers against your clit, he’s got your head pressing into the mattress so good — small noises of surprised squeaks elicit from your throat. he made sure the arch you had was simply immaculate. your pussy continuously clenched around him, the girth of him easily stretching throughout your cunt. “fuckkk, fuck, right there.”

gojo gets off from your pleasure, and as he stares at your jerking body, he quickens his pace a bit more before uttering out a soft,

“oh…s-shittt,” and that’s when he feels you tighten up for a second. gojo’s breathing starts to pick up, thighs aching, and he knew exactly what was preparing to build up. “baby, fuck when…when you grip down on me like that ‘m gonna c-cum again.”

and he’s serious, deadly.

his base unremittingly whacks against your slick little entrance. your fingers were barely doing any sorts of stimulation because all the attention was going straight towards gojo’s mean rich thrusts. “damn, ya always jus’ milk me every—every fuckin’ time,” and as he spoke, he made sure to match his words with his hits against your cunt. “c-can’t stop ‘cause this pussy won’t let me.”

strands of spit trickled down the corners of your lips due to your mouth being open and you moaned, feeling gojo push you up—you’re matching his lewd rhythmic pace before he lets off a sharp gasp, dumping another load into you.

“g-god, you…you always know how to make a mess out of me,” he shudders, feeling every inch of his body grow staggeringly hot. such lengths of ropes — his cum fueled you up, it was sticky and you craved for more. gojo’s breathing was irregular, and yet he still wasn’t tired.

after all….he was the strongest.

so that meant, going again and again. even if that meant going all day, because one of gojo’s favorite things was to train your pussy, you.

☆ TOJI

his stamina would be equivalent to a horse. when toji fucks…he fucks.

“nah, don’t run now, y’er the one who’s been begging for me to give this pussy attention,” he’d gruff, and your tongue was just lolled all the way out — dragging and scraping against the fabric sheets of the bed.

toji treated you like a rag doll. you’d be pushed up against him, and he’s got you in full nelson. thick cock driving right into your cunt. you find your legs being all up in the air and you’re just whimpering frenetically.

“nasty girl. made me stop doin’ my sets jus’ to fuck ya. ‘oughta be ashamed of yourself,” and then you moan, feeling him pin his beefy arms around your neck to hold you gently in place. “got anythin’ to say? did all that talkin’ ‘n now y’er just radio silent. shame.”

“n-no,” you moaned, and you felt your knees buckle. toji’s fat cock buried deep against your walls, he hit everywhere, even the spots you didn’t even know existed. you were just dumbly bouncing on his lap — tongue stupidly rolled out with your breath hitching. “fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, daddy.”

“who?”

you grew sub substantially quiet, the only sounds running out of your mouth were your quiet shaky breaths.

toji’s got you in a firm safe headlock, softly bringing a hand to squeeze against your right tit, another toying against your slick entrance before he slyly murmurs against your ear, “aw. no back talk now? tell me what you jus’ called me, baby. or you won’t get to cum on me.”

chest heaving, you swallowed whatever pride you had left, shifting your hips a bit to feel how deep he was stuffed into you before you whined. “i-i called you daddy.”

“yeah you did,” he chuckles with a low rasp, sheer bass coating his tone entirely. you felt so small. he’s so strong, lifting you up and down to just buck and jolt on his fat cock—skin sharply ricocheting against his thigh each time you make directly contact.

“you don’t gotta be shy around me, doll,” he mutters, fingers softly curling around your neck. you were pressed up against his chest and toji slows you down with one hand attached to your hip.

another swiftly gets ahold of your chin before he slips a middle finger right into your mouth. he lowly guffaws, feeling you suck on it before replying, “i’ve always liked my women a little nasty for me.”

for a brief second, you were in the midst of catching your breath.

exhaling a low sigh against toji’s pecs that you laid on. he showcases a snarky grins, pressing a kiss against the left side of your neck. “oh come onnn, don’t tell me your legs gave out already,” and then he starts to rub against your clit again. you gasp, moaning before he also gives it a playful spank. “baby, it was only like what . . six rounds? damn, guess you really are a weakling.”

☆ SUKUNA

“…woman, you—you’re so foolish,” he groans, and the curse laid back with a clenched jaw, tightened pecs, and a left hand stuck against your left hip like glue. “keep fuckin’ me like that and ‘m gonna get you pregnant.”

“get me pregnant then,” you whine, leaning in to kiss him.

sukuna grunts, bringing the left temple of your ass a rough spank before he returns the kiss. he glides his tongue alongside yours, warm breath colliding with your own. your tongue slides near his fangs and he lets off a soft groan the more you grind your hips forward towards him in such a way.

after a while, he pulls back before staring at you. his hair was messy and ruffled.

beads of sheeny sweat race down the sides of his forehead before he breathes, “you’re so stupid,” and he traces both of his thumbs against your ass, watching your cunt swallow his thick inches wholeheartedly. “course you want that. you want me to fill you again, princess—?”

“yeah, that’s why i t-told you to get me pr—”

“watch your fuckin’ mouth, little girl,” sukuna chastised, kissing the fat of your ass with another spank. “don’t forget who you’re speakin’ to.”

just as you were about to roll your eyes, you gasp once he reaches a certain sensitive spot. shortly afterwards ; you whine from the incoming sting before you rock your hips at a much more hastened pace.

it’s probably been hours, and of course, sukuna had stamina for hours, days . . perhaps years, after all it is sukuna.

you’d be lucky that he didn’t break your pussy with his thick cock. just him easing his way inside of you, aligning himself gently just so it’d be easier that way—yet you still felt every ambrosial sweetened inch. “f-fuck ‘kuna,” you’d whimper, gradually slowing your hips down.

his jaw clenches again, and his eyes linger down to witness your hips, its rotating against him in such a sloppy slow way—you grind against his lap in response and it makes his head spin.

“d-damn,” he’d swallow, and that was probably the first time you’ve made sukuna stutter. your pussy gripped around him tightly, so much force that it made your ears ring and pop. “got so much cum to flood into your nasty cunt, better be grateful ‘n take every drop,” and then his voice pitches once he brings you closer towards his face with a cold grimacing glare. “wipe that fuckin’ smirk off your face.”

“make me.” you giggle, leaning in to kiss the left side of his lip.

yet you regret even saying that because within a blink of an eye — sukuna’s already got you flipped over on your stomach. he’s already preparing to jostle his hardened dick right back into you where it belongs. “i’ll fuckin’ make you,” and then he kisses his teeth, watching you teasingly wriggle your ass from excitement before growing quiet once he finished his words. “let’s see you take both of my cocks since you wanna be all big ‘n bad, whore.”

☆ GETO

his stamina comes out of nowhere . .

you’d end up teasing geto a bit too much and he just takes it out on your pussy. until the room’s entire smell is filled with nothing but a sweetened mixture of your natural scent of his lavished cologne scent that went against your nose each time.

“fuckkk, we gotta work on this arch of yours, baby,” geto chuckles.

you’re on all fours, staring at how dumb you look in the reflection of the mirror.

geto’s propped up behind you with the smuggest grin on his face, watching your body practically go limp—you moaned, feeling each ridge and edge of his cock prod against the insides of your pussy. he studies the curve of your ass with a toothy grin before using one hand to caress your hip, guiding you with the suaveness of his voice. “bend all the way back for me, yeahhh.”

his voice went so low, it made you throb. geto could do doggystyle on you for hours on end. until his legs would cramp up — but even then, he’d be too pussy drunk to halt. just a few seconds insides your gummy walls, he might as well be living in there at that point.

“s-suguruuu,” you’d moan, the thin sheets of fabric shocking against your perky nipples.

“don’t suguruuu me unless you’re about to cum, princess,” he whispers. his voice was soothing, yet so dirty. whenever he spoke to you like that, in such sass, it never failed to make you throb. he knew how to get under your skin each time and you hated it.

but at the same time . . it turned you on, and geto of all people knew that. he’s so deep, pumping you full of inches to where you’re just inanely bouncing against the spring mattress. “and you’re not about to cum yet, are ya?”

“n-no,” you’d whine, and he smiles at the subtle faint frustration in your tone. by this point, geto’s doggystyle turned into prone bone. he’s all up and pressed against your ass. such ruthless vigorous thrusts against you, you’re drooling for more of his bulky girth, more of his inches.

geto mocks the disappointed pout you had, and you saw through the mirrored reflection. he was such a tease. “exactly, baby” he purrs before giving the back of your tank top a slight tug—you bump up against him and the very tip of his cock kisses your g-spot. you moaned loudly at the feeling of how snuggly fit inside before you feel geto spill a thick load right into your pussy. “f-fuck, but i am..”

☆ CHOSO

with choso, it’s safe to say you probably wouldn’t be walking in the morning.

he’s sweet and gentle, yet once you whine to him how you want him to be a little bit more rough for once — he complied almost immediately.

“okay, okay,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and choso would gently pick you up, in preparation to fuck you that way. he’s sweet and tender, choso realigns himself before your arms sling around his neck and he grunts hearing the squelching ‘pop’ your pussy hummed. “don’t look at me like that, ‘m trying..”

you giggle, cupping his face to kiss the top of his nose and instantly. choso’s face grows flustered. yet his entire demeanor changed once he was balls deep, fucking you while standing up as if he wasn’t just so timid and apprehensive a literal moment ago.

“oh my goddd,” you’d whine, feeling big hands of his rub against your waist. his touch was so gingerly, grazing down your spine with a few simple fingers. his dick went deep—you panted, and choso’s ears heat up once he heard your moans directly next to his ear. “riiight there, choso. f-fuck me there.”

“praise me m-more, princess,” he mewls, his head throws back as he holds you up. you clamp down on him so good. strings of your own slick and droplets of his cum from previous rounds going against his base . . choso’s struggling to keep his eyes open. “fuckin’ sloppy, so—good,” he huffs, and you’re just slamming back down against him in the process. “tell me how good ‘m doin’ for you, please.”

as you bounced against him, your breath hitched before you snuck a kiss against his lips. “you’re doing great, baby.”

“—yeah?” he pouts. you were so warm inside, it made his head swell. choso was so lenient yet so needy for more of your praises. he’d eat them up every time. just hearing you whisper in that sweet soft voice of yours that he was making you feel good. he didn’t care if he finished - he cared whether you finished, and that was more than enough to satisfy him.

“yeah.” you reply, and he finally returns the kiss, its more sloppy than usual. his tongue breezily brushes against yours, he moans right into your mouth before he feels himself starting to bottom out.

choso’s so vocal, letting off such the sluttiest moans and whimpers into your mouth—you remain with your arms wrapped around him, jerking up and down against him as he’s got you. “f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling his thighs ache before he shifts his heels a bit. a few steps and you’re pinned right up against the wall.

shaky legs of yours snake around his waist before he hears you let off the most candied moan, more so… an orgasm. he didn’t even know you were close, and yet he looks down once he feels your entrance soak all over him.

choso pants, still carrying you before murmuring in a hoarse reticent voice, “d-did you just squirt?”

you’re in the middle of catching your breath before your bottom lip quivers. useless legs dangling alongside his waist before you huff out a shaky breath. “y-yes.”

“oh,” he murmurs before staring into your eyes, “can you do it again?” he pouts, and he’s still buried to the hilt inside of you—you let off a soft noise once choso brings you close to his chest, licking against your ear before whining off a needy, “…please?”

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[dadsbongos]

hi (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ i was wondering if it's okay to be a little bit feral about viktor here.,..,., craving him. Carnally

let’s get feral about viktor…  general thots here and then a stupid blurb below the cut

would definitely be into face-sitting: pleasing his partner while laying back. hands free to roam and grope and you get to control the pace. you could grind on his nose and throw your head back and he just gets to listen as you squeal.

also would look so so so good covered in hickies….. purplish love bites decorating his sharp collarbones.. he’d probably let you get away with sucking some up his neck since he’s locked in the lab all day anyway

hngnnnggg he’s gotta be PENT up too. he’s handsome and he knows it, but he went from a studying assistant to a full scientist behind hextech so he pretty much capped himself on sex. so when he gets into it he is. INTO it. so needy and whiny and overstimulates himself to keep fucking you just so he doesn’t have to stop

i want him lol… not laughing

~~ 530 words

his careful and thoughtful inflection, each word he says wrought so particularly that no matter how big the words he uses are -you understand each one perfectly with how he uses it.

which is why you take so much pleasure in finding him tongue-tied next to you. pale cheeks flushing and eyes, so ragged with knowledge, wide chock full of curiosity. you’re sure he hasn’t gotten much attention -- no amount of beauty or charming accent can save a scientist from his own devotion.

he got dragged out to an exhibition gala by jayce and he’s been slick against the wall since arriving. no drink or plate in hand, he simply leans there in a bored silence. which is when the last person he wants to see arrives: you, the new assistant.

you spare no time before saddling up beside him with two champagne flutes. one has a dewy smear of gloss along the rim while you extend the other.

“any commitments tomorrow? or can i finally see the famed hextech let loose?”

viktor eyes the bubbles, dragging his gaze up to your face and halting there for an excruciating second before leaning to grab the glass.

“i was just thinking of leaving,” he admits, “these public showings are not my idea.”

“go figure. i think everyone here’s gathered that.”

“jayce can handle any questions of the evening…” viktor sighs, frowning down at the champagne, “sad that you wasted your time getting me the glass.”

“you know, i do wonder how many girls out in town dream about jayce. he’s the face -a pretty face- for hextech,” viktor raises a brow at you prodding for explanation, “i just don’t understand how they can overlook the brains.”

viktor jumps, gaze startling down to his feet, a stiff response already spilling, “jayce is half the brain, and so am i.”

“then i guess i just need to tell you that i think you’re cute.”

a flurry of excuses storms behind his eyes before he catches his breath, shoulders drooping as he exhales and realizes: he doesn’t have to find an excuse. he doesn’t have to refuse you at all. 

he’s not working tonight. you’re not working. he can’t remember the last time he got to act like a normal man with normal desires rather than fulfilling some vague purpose. an idyllic achievement.

he could just be a man tonight.

so he clinks his glass against yours with a soft smile, “then i’m assuming you’re not busy tomorrow, either?”

“i am not,” you beam, sliding closer toward him.

and good thing; both of you having the next day off means you can pull viktor into your apartment, and then your bed. he lets you guide the night, watching with uncharacteristic amazement as you strip -- he looks so mesmerized his hands clench, itching to scale up your bare sides.

you swing a leg over him when he’s sat against your headboard, “you okay, vik?” he tilts his head only for you to cup his cheeks and keep his head straight, “you’re all flushed.”

“your forwardness,” he blinks up at you, heart thrumming between his ribs, “it scares me.”

“oh?”

“i’ve never been more aroused.”

“oh…”

… in another world i will write a viktor fic with this same premise… it is so. Interesting to me.