#scratch his scalp for him

[seoulmatez]

𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓂 : gray x alhaitham

some find beauty in sumeru's landscape — its sprawling rainforests, its unique fauna. others find beauty in its emerging art scene — performances put on at the zubayr theater. alhaitham finds beauty in one person alone, his gray.

for @dilucs ♡

[ilovepersephoneprice]

can you guys watch him for me? I'll be back in a sec

[ysaefinn]

Distressing suguru after his long day at work by gently lapping at his titties. (⌒0⌒)／~~

[makiswirl]

I HAVE JOTARO THOUGHTS. SO SO MANY.

he has breakdowns about wanting his momma. so, so many. poor baby

he is afraid of storms. theyre scary as shit to him!!!!!!!

he knows how to waltz! holly taught him

he gets clingy when hes tired. he tries not to be, but he grabs onto people more

he looooves when people run their hands through his hair. but ONLY people he trusts. hence the hat.

HE HAS TO MOUTH WORDS WHEN HE READS. idk i think its cute

i think he likes to cook. its a healthy coping mechanism that holly helped him build.

- @scariest-monsters <333

(my asks are broken! i cant send them without anon, for some reason, they get lost. treat this ask like you would one from a non-anon blog please :3)

GOD ALL SO FUCKING TRUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[makedonsgriva]

you know you are fucked when you have to start rewatching the gay skateboarding anime to take your mind off things

[dubina-dawkins]

thinkin really hard of some fluff w dean just cant help myself T_T (but my adhd gives me too many ideas between which I am torn)

[daddysropepuppy]

.

[transgender-catboy]

Beautiful gorgeous handsome

[screampied]

“you, stop . . moving,” sukuna prowls, the base of his chin sat on top of your thighs.

you were in your usual spot, waiting for him to return from whatever battle had him occupied for half the day. moments later, you’re now slouched back against sukuna’s throne with a very grumpy, pouty demon lying his head against the center of your lap. before you could even part your lips to ask him what happened this time, sukuna grumbles. “bad. very bad day, little one.”

humming, you strum a few feathery fingers toward the pink roots of his hair before softly digging a path through his tender scalp. “oh. well, wanna talk about it?”

“no,” he replies gruffly with an abrupt quickness, his pout growing the more he remembered about his day. however, as your fingers continued to comb through his silk tresses, sukuna buried his face between your thighs. “i need… to recharge.”

“most people would drink water or eat somet-”

“shut up.”

“…..”

slowly peeking from between the warmth of your glued legs, sukuna notices the pausing halt on your fingers that played with his hair and he scowls. oh, he’s pouting, and with a cute, annoyed grumble, he avoids your gaze.

“i told you to shut up, not . . to stop doing that. go on. hmph.”

rolling your eyes, you gave him a subtle head pat before hearing a loud sigh exit between your thighs. he’s usually never this clingy, and you remained quiet - wondering just what happened in his day for him to behave so … needy.

your fingers resumed its maze through his scalp tenderly, and his long lashes fluttered close - a soft content sigh dragging away from his thinly parted lips. in a way, you had to admit — this looked silly.

a huge, burly thousand-year-old curse of a demon positioned between your thighs. it was merely comical, and yet, sukuna could really care less.

the king of curses didn’t have a weakness - except you.

“mmgh-” he’d grunt, tilting his head to the left before he felt your thumb gingerly scratching behind his ear. for a second, you think you saw his nose twitching too. sukuna’s pink brows were still forcibly furrowed together, perfectly expressing his stubborn frustration before he let off another noise.

this time though - it’s different . .

it’s a subtle, cooing ‘rrrrr’ sound that’s deeply low. the entire sound alone from sukuna makes your thighs shake a bit and you look down at him with a perplexed look.

“ ‘kuna?” you murmured, the swirling circles of your finger stopping once again. a cunning grin gradually creased against your lips before you gasped. “did you just … purr?”

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“that noise you just made.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, his scratchy voice a bit muffled from how he nearly sank between the arc of your thighs. “pft. i was clearing my throat, obviously. you humans and your delusions-”

“nooo, i heard it,” you cheekily simpered, pinching his cheek. that earned a disgusted glower from him before you brought your fingers back toward behind his ear. “i scratched behind hereeee ‘n then . . you made that sound.”

the demon’s breath hitched once he felt the tip of your stubby thumb leisurely trail its way near behind his ear. instantaneously, his ear even twitched at your delicate touch and his eyes were just whining for more. for once, sukuna doesn’t have a witty remark and he’s just allowing you to toy your fingers against his balmy skin.

“stupid …. it wasn’t a purr. that’s insulting.”

“oh, my bad. what was it then?”

sukuna glares at you, and you return with a smug expression. damn.

sighing, sukuna’s shoulder slacken. “whatever. anyways,” he grumps, his chin sitting back onto your right leg. crimson eyes flicker up toward you before he pouts. “scratch behind my ear again. see what happens.”

“or what, you’ll purr again? ooh. scary.”

sukuna’s cheeks were so flushed - on the very cusps of shading into a bright hue of vermillion before he scoffs. “ha! do it. you wo- mmmmrr-”

cutting him off, you give him a good scratch behind his ear once more, and again—that sound comes out. a soothing, content purr from sukuna that cutely makes his whole body faintly rumble against your thighs.

it wasn’t just the purring, it was all of his changing body language that occurred too.

whenever your fingers would swiftly dash across the sensitive territory that was located behind his ear, sukuna turned into an entire different person. his eyelids would hang low, his nose would twitch, and his usual grumpy expression would slowly switch to a more… tame one.

it’s like your fingers had some sort of magic, and it irritated him but it also made him . . craving more of your touch. “there there,” you hummed, feeling him relax against your touch. your fingertips were always so gentle, dancing down the outer edge of his ear as the low, purring noise continued.

it only lasted for a few seconds but to sukuna, it felt like many, many hours..

the scratching had him nearly hypnotized - and he was already closing his eyes, forgetting all about his horrible day. you silently watched as the curse’s pink slit brows curled apart from its usual furrow, and you could almost see his pout turning into a tiny smile.

it’s a half-almost smile, and sukuna’s starting to feel himself eventually falling asleep.

“such a cat,” you teasingly mumbled, hearing his ragged breaths suddenly come to a mesmeric slow. sukuna deeply sighs, cool puffs of air from his nostrils falling against your thighs. you weren’t sure if he was fully asleep or not, so you gave him a soft poke.

nothing.

giggling, you laid back against his throne as he remained in his same spot—head laid on your thighs as he was kneeling before you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen sukuna so relaxed. he’s usually so angry - so full of hate and uncontrollable rage but now, he looks finally at peace.

at peace in his favorite spot - between your thighs.

in a soft lulling voice, you gave his head a small pat before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “i love you, ‘kuna. sleep well.”

“hng- i love …. you too, little one.” he’d groggily reply, pressing plush lips against the crevice of your thigh.

“never talk about this again, by the way. or els-”

you interrupt his tiny threat by scratching behind his ear one more time and sukuna purrs even louder than before. it’s more high-pitched this time, and he opens his eyes before a pink tint spreads across his face once he realized he purred again.

“d- damn it..”

[adiadagaki]

touchstarved!satoru craves any and every touch you offer him, especially when it concerns his hair or hands

touchstarved!satoru who literally purrs whenever you thread your fingers into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp when you watch TV together. Shoving his face into your neck, he nuzzles his nose against the skin, silently letting you know he may die if you stop

touchstarved!satoru throws a little tantrum when you refuse to sit on his lap at work meetings, claiming it helps him focus (really he just wants to grope your thighs while you hold onto his arm, begging him to stop with stern eyes - of course he refuses with a shit-eating grin)

touchstarved!satoru immediately becomes horny whenever you play with the hair at his nape. Even graze it and you are in for a long night.

“‘T’s not my fault sweetheart.” He whined as his thrusts grew sharper, one of his greedy hands grabbing yours and forcing it to his nape, seeking that same pleasure which arched his back and made him see stars.

Tightening your legs around his waist, a soft moan falling past your lips at the pure need on his face, you heeded, providing a deep scratch with your nails.

Satoru came in seconds.

touchstarved!satoru who has to take you on missions with him. Leave his beautiful girlfriend (future wife) for a week plus? Not happening. Who else would he cuddle with for hours at night?

touchstarved!satoru who could no longer live without you and all the little slices of heaven you give to him every single day

[constellationguy]

Lies the Genshin Men say

*little explicit here and there*

Explicit sections: Childe, Dottore-ish, Kaeya, Baizhu

The Harbingers

Pierro: He says he prefers to see you in his colors, mainly blues and black. Truthfully he adores you in red. He can’t keep his hands off you when you wear red. He also buys you anything that’s red, dresses, shoes, lipstick, flowers, all because the color reminds him of you. For events he prefers you to wear jewelry with darling bright sapphires but your jewelry case is filled with too many rubies to count.

Il Capitano: He says he prefers his hair straight and unrestrained. The truth is he will fall asleep if you play with or style his long back hair. Capitano feels the most loved when you are braiding his hair or giving him a scalp massage. When he misses you he braids his hair but he starts at the nape of his neck because his big fingers can’t braid from the top of his head like you do.

Pantalone: He claims he doesn’t care what perfume you wear. This statement is partly true. During galas and social functions he tells you to wear sents that are known to be pricey but not oppressive, expensive and understated he says. However at home he loves your natural sent, with out shame he will set you on his lap and tuck his face into your neck and take a deep breath, it seems like a sigh but he really is smelling you.

Childe: He tells you he loves everything about you equally, but it’s clear that he adores your boobs the most. Ajax loves to hug you from behind and squeeze or caress your chest while hugging you and will whine and beg to let him if you deny him. He loves to burry his head in your chest after a long day. When you don’t wear a bra you can persuade him to do pretty much anything.

Scaramouche: He tells you that he doesn’t care if you learn Japanese or not. In reality his knees will buckle if you call him “anata”, after you two got married. When you speak with him in Japanese he is so much more animated and emotional. His heart swells with pride when you two speak Japanese in domestic settings. Sing to him in Japanese and he will cry and or fall asleep.

Dottore: He claims to be dominant, which he is, most of the time. He will boss anyone around and make them conform to his will, but he will burn the world for you if you wanted. You tell him to jump and he will ask how high. He will also be extra pliant if you tug on his hair a bit.

Mondstadt

Albedo: He tells you he doesn’t mind not having a “domestic” relationship. In truth he loves seeing you play with Klee. He loves when you cook for him. He loves coming home to you, if he could freeze time to stay in those homey moments he would.

Diluc: He tells everyone that he doesn’t play any instraments. However at home he will play the sweetest melodies for you on the piano. His playing is for your ears only. The only other people he will play for is your future children.

Kaeya: He promises you that he will never hurt you. However, he will bite, scratch, and suck on your skin all day every day if you let him. He adores leaving possessive marks on you as well as giving you painful pleasure, the best kind of pleasure in his book.

Venti: He claims to be chill and not possessive at all. But he will stare and scowl at people being flirty with you. He will place his hands possessively on your waist when anyone gets too close to you. He would keep you locked up at home if he could, he just could never share you with anyone.

Liyue

Baizhu: Baizhu claims to dislike your bossiness, but in fact in almost any scenario it kinda turns him on. He loves when you use him for your own pleasure. He loves when you tell him what to do to make you happy or to get you off.

Xiao: He tells you that he doesn’t want anymore people in his life. However, he truly wants a few kids of his own running about, helping him make breakfast for you every morning. The thing he wants most is a family with you.

Zhongli: Not exactly a lie but Zhongli doesn’t like you eating non home cooked food. Any food that isn’t made by someone he trusts, he won’t let you eat. However whenever you’re feeling down or kind of out of it he will order food and bring it home to make you smile.

Inazuma

Goro: He tells everyone who asks that he hates his ears and tail touched, everyone is too rough with them. On the other hand, you’re so gentile with him, when you play with his hair that he can’t help but enjoy when you gently pet his ears.

Kazuha: He will tell you that the world is inspiration. He tells you his poems stem from the sights he sees and emotions he feels as he travels. But in truth Kazuha has not written one poem without you on his mind, you have been his muse and inspiration since you met.

Ayato: He says he doesn’t mind what you wear. But he can’t help but feel happy when you wear the expensive silk sets he bought you. Silk just fits you for some reason. To him silk complements your soft skin perfectly, the smooth reflective fabric just radiants and amplifies your beauty.

Heizo: Whenever he is tired he will go on and on about how he “isn’t sleepy” or how he’s “just gonna rest his eyes.” This man is stubborn when it comes to going to bed. He just wants to spend more time with you. You might have to make him tea and scratch his back while he lays on you to get him to fall asleep without a fuss.

Thoma: He claims to be neither here or there on who cooks meals. In actuality in his brain he cries and begs for your cooking. It could be any cuisine and he will be happy. He just loves your cooking and your adoration especially after a long day of taking care of others.

Itto: Itto tells anyone and everyone that he’s married to you. He just loves you so much and fantasizes about your wedding to much sometimes he forgets you’re not actually married yet.

Sumeru

Alhaitham: He tells you that you can sleep by yourself. In reality you and him both know you can’t sleep without each other. If you’re angry with him and you sleep on the couch you two will end up making up in the night when he comes to pick you up and take you back to your shared bed.

Cyno: He claims to not get jealous often but truthfully he craves your attention and gets jealous when he doesn’t get it. He knows how his friends don’t favor his humor so he gets a little insecure when you laugh at their jokes sometimes. Just know he will be clingy behind closed doors to make up for being jealous of his own friends.

Kaveh: Everyday he tells you that he won’t overwork himself, he will take breaks today. He doesn’t, no matter how determined he is he will not take a break until you make him. On days when he’s stuck in his head you have to visit him while he’s at work or at home so he can come back down to earth here and there.

Tighnari: He will complain anyone who will listen about how he hates going into Sumeru city for one thing or another. However he will be giddy when he goes onto Sumeru City to visit you. While he doesn’t like the city, it isn’t so bad when you’re with him.

Fontaine

Lyney: He claims to love all the ways you touch him. However he does have a favorite, he loves when you scratch and massage his back. When you work through his back with your skilled hands he is a happy groaning mess. After a massage he will be like a napping pile of jello. Cuddles with a now loose muscled Lyney are so heart warming.

Neuvillette: He hates the taste of coffee, that’s a plain fact. However, he can’t help but enjoy the taste of coffee if it’s from your lips. The quick good morning kiss you give him as you sip on your coffee makes his head dizzy instead of disgusted like he normally is at the taste of coffee.

Wriothesley: He claims he doesn’t mind you going out alone or without him. Truthfully you are never actually without his surveillance. He has a tracker on your phone and he sends one of his coworkers to make sure you are always safe.

[neigepomme]

taking a shower with caleb, but for once, you're the one pampering him.

he's always the one washing your hair, but when you pout at him and threaten to leave the shower, he relents and sits on the shower bench in front of you. he sighs and tells you once more that "baby, you really don't have to, i'm okay," but you're having none of that. tilting his head up to meet your gaze, you press a kiss to his eyelids, and he tenderly places his hands on your hips — rubbing small comforting circles with his thumbs.

shielding his eyes from the water, you make sure his hair is thoroughly soaked through before squeezing some shampoo in your palms and massaging his scalp with it. caleb shudders a bit at first, your smaller hands much warmer than his. your touch is so soft, and for some reason, his chest feels like it's tightening a bit. when you push his hair back and laugh, whispering that "slicked back hair fits you, handsome," caleb looks at you as if you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

the feeling of your warm skin beneath his hands, your nails soothingly scratching his scalp, and your soft hums — this is love, he thinks. you're gazing at him with so much adoration, and you're treating him as if he was fragile. it's all so overwhelming, and caleb can't help the tears in his eyes. he was always content caring for you, never expecting you to do the same — your presence alone was a blessing enough. when he takes his hands off your hips to wipe his eyes, you grow concerned.

“caleb, are you okay? did shampoo get in your eyes?”

in response, he just laughs and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head against your chest. listening carefully to your heartbeat, he exhales deeply. your body heat is so grounding, and he can't help letting out a choked sob when he feels you wrap your own arms around him. you care, you care for him so deeply, and caleb never knew he could allow himself to be selfish in this manner.

oh, how lucky you were to have each other.

“just thinking about how much i love you.”

🍎 pomme's notes — his myth damn near made me kill myself i need to love him so bad.. also inspired by that one reddit guy whose girlfriend washed his hair and he cried.. that's calebcore!!

[majinbangus]

You're sprawled on the couch when he comes in the room, eyes zeroing in on you instantly. He doesn't give you the chance to greet him, stalking up to you as if you're his prey. Which, in this moment, you probably are.

It's not hard to tell he's still in that soldier headspace he gets stuck in sometimes. He looks tired. Stressed.

You're about to get up and ask him what he wants, what he needs, once he's looming over you, but the words die out when his hands shoot out and start squeezing your breasts.

You don't stop him, but you do laugh a little, incredulous. "What are you doing?"

"Fluffin' your tits." He's gruff, both in tone and groping. "What's it look like?"

"That's not how- nevermind." You chuckle and fondly roll your eyes. "Why?"

"Cuz they're mine," he says as if that's reason enough, and you suppose it is.

He let's go to get on the couch with you, batting your legs open to settle between them. The man practically flops on top of you with enough force to push an oof out of your lungs, but you can tell he's careful not to crush you entirely. His arms shove underneath your body, squeezing tight as he nuzzles his face against your newly fluffed breasts. You bring a hand up to scratch the back of his scalp the way you know he likes, and he sighs, melting into your body.

"Just like a big baby." Your chest bounces with silent laughter, and he gives a little sleepy warning nip to your clothed breast.

"Stop gigglin'. Tryna nap."

You almost laugh harder. He's not dispproving your point, but if this is what he needs, who are you to deny him?

"Alright, alright, I'll let my soldier rest." You calm yourself, softening your voice. "And I'll be here when you wake, too."

You know you're forgiven when he grunts and presses a kiss to where he bit.

[stardustquills]

listen! i’m not a caleb girly, but i am a whore for men who are obsessed with their girl.

and i can’t stop thinking about caleb’s first time with mc… 18+ mdni. wc; 273

-

when caleb sinks into you for the first time, he thinks he’s in fucking heaven with the way you fluttered around him and your voice called his name.

one thing lead to another, and now you’re almost naked on his couch, taking his dick like all of the times he’d dreamed. except this is so much better than his fist, or the stupid fleshlight he bought all of those years ago. now, he can finally stop pretending.

fuck, teenage caleb would be losing his mind right now. current caleb is losing his mind.

he can stop pretending his fist is yours instead, that the damn, cold fleshlight is your cunt, that all those girls he fucked during high school was you.

now he finally has you all to himself, and there’s no way in hell he’ll ever let you go.

“o-oh, pipsqueak,” he moans, and loudly. his head helplessly falls into the crook of your neck, taking in that familiar, vanilla scent. the same scent that he’s been yearning for god knows how long. the same scent that tells his mind ‘relax, you’re home.’

you are his home.

your hands wrap around him. one of them hide in his hair, deliciously scratching his scalp as you other one drags your nails down his back. he fucking whimpers into your neck, planting a kiss onto your skin because what else can he do? normally so strong for you, he’s been reduced to nothing but a lovesick, pussy drunk fool.

caleb gets in his head, thinking you must think he’s absolutely pathetic for being like this. but honestly? you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

should i make this into a full fic?! i’m torn.

edit: full fic happened! you can read it here :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3

[dmitriene]

simon ghost riley can often be found resting upon your lap, rugged, scratchy with prickling, patchy stubble face nudges in the doughy surface of your supple thighs, open by some short sleeping shorts you wear around the house, or nothing at all, just a pair of panties that barely separate him from where he tries to burrow in, concealed only by the loose shirt that is draped over your body and crumples between your legs.

nuzzling in like a domesticated cat, focused on getting where he wants to go, brazen, demanding, calloused, short nailed fingers dig in and knead on the sensitive flesh of your thighs, leaving hollows and making you flinch, coating with goosebumps, making you clench your own fingers in the short hairs on the nape of his neck, previously tangled there to scratch at his scalp, now trying to tug him away, even though the displeased grumble coming through his chest, and the forceful grip he keeps on your legs.

simon just needs it, not to only lay with his head on your thighs and enjoy the caress of your fingers over his hair and face, nails raking down slow over the sensitive skin of his mug, the tissued feeling of scars and faded blemishes that were left by wearing a suffocating balaclava too often, but it's not enough, there's a gut wounding, aching need to be close to the most intimate part of your body, crawl in somewhere between your ribs, but the only thing he can do that is somewhat close, burrow his nose against your clothed cunt, jaw stretching to accommodate his wide opening mouth, just to inhale the telltale note of your building arousal, the musk of your sweet pussy.

and you can't say him no, not with how persistently his tongue lolls out to wet the slowly drenching fabric of your underwear, his crooked nose pressed just right against the twitchy, swelling nub of your pebbled clit, searing hot and seeming to twitch at the proximity, sending spasms down your bowing spine and flexing, curling toes, as your part your legs for him, feeling the heavy press of his brawny, full chest against your tensing thigh, as he hums lowly, before sucking on your mound through the fabric, burying down in earnest.

it's quite charming, how eager simon is to fuck his tongue in your mouth and swallow down mouthfull of your honey syrupy slick, dripping eagerly on his twisting, curling tongue and relaxed throat, letting him gulp down each drop, until he grows tired, perhaps drowsy, weighted by the exhausted weeks, contented to be squished down between your legs.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[gossamyrrh]

hybrids, semi-public sex ୨ৎ fem!reader

dogboy!choso gets off on being a little bit vulgar…

it’s so easy for him to whine and trot to your feet, hump your leg, too, and blame it on the fact that it’s just his “instincts” taking over !

no, of course he doesn’t mean to pin you down that harshly so he can use you to get off. rutting against the curve of your ass as though he were left to the wild. and he definitely doesn’t mean to cum all over you. leave a sticky mess all over your skin. getting hard again when you coo that “it’s okay” and he’s just a “silly little mutt who can’t help himself”, as you scratch behind his ears because he’s still your good boy.

he almost thinks it’s too good to be true—the extent of your naïveté; your ignorance. how you let him act however with little repercussions. turning him into a grimy thing. a spoilt, little house-pet.

…it’s entirely your fault, then, for what comes next:

a dinner party; all your close friends and family members gathered in one room to celebrate your recent promotion, and dogboy!choso sits in the corner and eyes you as though starved. ears twitching lightly. eyes hooded. watching as the hem of your dress rises little by little whenever you move.

he doesn’t exactly know when that itch started up again—that fire in his belly swelled—but all he knows is that he wants to touch you. wants to feel you. sink his canines past your supple flesh and watch you writhe—pin you to the table while your guests stare in horror.

but he’s patient. knows better, if only just barely. waits until the wine’s gone, the food’s picked over, and the rowdy chatter about simmers into something more subdued—before he takes his own serving.

(stretches his maw; readies himself for a bite.)

and then—quietly, smoothly—he creeps forward.

no one notices. why would they? he’s just the quiet, obedient pet, right?

wrong.

he slinks under the table, head low, crawling on strong forearms, and sniffs until he finds you. his pretty thing. his master. the scent of your cunt so distinct—honeyed—that it knocks the air from his chest. makes his head spin.

you’re wearing silk panties. the kind he likes. soft and thin and soaked through. like you knew he was coming.

he nuzzles close. presses his nose to your slit and inhales deep, then deeper. his tongue darting out to taste.

slowly.

he’s good this time. careful. doesn’t want you to shove him away and whisper scoldings in that condescending tone of yours that often leaves him puzzled.

instead, he laps softly—lazily—like he’s tasting something sweet for the first time. like you’re dessert and he’s starving. sating his sweet tooth.

and when your thighs twitch? when your breath catches mid-laugh and your hand slides under the table to grab a fistful of his hair?

he whines. humps the floor once, like a filthy, desperate mutt.

and he swears—he’ll be good. he will. if you just let him keep going a little longer.

your fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and choso practically purrs.

his tail thumps once—twice—against the hardwood before he stills it, panting now, lips glossy with spit and slick. he mouths at you like it’s all he knows how to do. tongue dragging slow and wide up the seam of your panties, soaking the fabric even more until it clings to your folds and he can see the shape of you through it. smell it. taste it.

you shift slightly, trying not to squirm, biting down on a moan. and just your luck, someone across the table says your name, asks you a question.

“you okay?”

you can feel all eyes on you.

“just…a little hot.” you murmur, voice strained. high-pitched.

choso just grins into your pussy. nose pressed against the damp fabric, tongue slipping underneath to flick against your clit just once, just to see if you’ll flinch.

and you do.

he moans at that, a soft little rumble that vibrates right through you, and starts grinding into the floor like the fucking dog he is. cock dragging along the polished wood, sticky with pre already, throbbing with every twitch of your thigh.

you try to close your legs. try.

but he growls—a low, warning noise that’s more animal than man—and pries your thighs back open with rough hands. pushes them apart until the chair creaks.

he noses the fabric aside and licks directly into you now. slow, deliberate. broad strokes that make your eyes flutter and your belly tense. his tongue is messy, undisciplined, like everything else about him. he groans into you, drinks you in, rutting against the floor the whole time, leaking and whining, eyes rolling back as he buries his face in your cunt. licking, slurping, suckling, like he wants to crawl inside.

you know you shouldn’t let him.

you know there are eyes just above the tablecloth, people talking and laughing and sipping their drinks while your filthy dogboy fucks himself on the floor and licks at your cunt like it’s his last meal.

but he’s looking up at you now.

those eyes.

glassy and fucked-out, begging you not to stop him.

and how could you? he’s being so good. so good.

so you pet his head. scratch behind his ears. let your hand slide down to cup his jaw as he sucks your clit into his mouth with a low, wet moan.

“good boy,” you breathe, too soft for anyone else to hear.

and choso shudders. cums in his pants again without even touching himself, hips jerking wildly into the floor. the sound he makes is guttural, ruined.

but he doesn’t stop licking.

not even after your thighs start to tremble. not even after you tug his hair and hiss his name and try to push his head back.

no—he needs this. needs your taste, your scent, your thighs squeezing around his ears like you’re trying to kill him.

and when you finally cum? biting your lip and pressing your heel into his back to keep him there?

he whimpers. grinds his spent, twitching cock into the floor and moans like he’s in heaven.

like you just gave him the greatest reward in the world.

you gently pull him away. smooth his messy hair back. he pants against your thigh, dazed and warm and sticky.

and just before he crawls back to his corner—still dripping, still aching—he presses a soft, sloppy kiss to the inside of your knee.

your friends are still talking. still laughing.

and not a single one of them knows that your good, little mutt just made you cum under the dinner table.