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#that hot dirty bastard
rocknrollflames · 23 days
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gif credit to doubletalkinjives
When I go back in time:
I have decided it will be at this very moment - right here. I will be one of the people who climbs on stage. Well, I will somehow propel myself. And I will either land on Izzy or jump on him immediately following a hard landing. At this moment. I know. I'm aware he'll probably shove me off the stage. What am I saying? Okay - I'll admit it. That hot, dirty bastard will probably kick me off. So I would probably have to flash him or think of something else fast. I'd just hold on as tightly as possible. Grab onto one of his skinny legs probably.
Izzy Stradlin, performing with Guns N' Roses: L. A. Street Scene Festival, 1986
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katasstrophy · 1 year
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so……. kaiser is definitely a hair grabber 🫣 how we feeling about that
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myst3rysblog · 5 months
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The fact that this wasn’t even the craziest thing he did like
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spectrumpulse · 1 year
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sinceileftyoublog · 1 year
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SZA Album Review: SOS
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(Top Dawg Entertainment/RCA)
BY JORDAN MAINZER
On “Nobody Gets Me”, a song in the middle of SZA’s much anticipated second album SOS, she reveals a failed engagement, a man that left her when she was on the road due to his own insecurities. It’s the type of heartbreak that spawns entire records--and maybe it did, here--but she spends more time in the details, setting the scene than delving into the ins and outs of her relationship. “You were balls-deep, now we beefin’ / Had me butt-naked at the MGM / So wasted, screamin’, ‘Fuck that’ / Blurry now but I meant it then / Hurry now, baby, stick it in / ‘Fore the memories get to kickin’ in,” she sings, her carnal humor as blunt as it is sardonic. In the build up to the release of SOS, during an interview with HOT 97, she remarked she wants it to be understood from the album that, simply, she’s pissed. Pissed at specific men, yes, but also at men in general, at the music industry, at the collective forces that try to bring her down. SOS is a distress signal. It’s no coincidence its opening track begins with that specific Morse code while built around a sample of the Gabriel Hardeman Delegation’s gospel song “Until I Found the Lord (My Soul Couldn’t Rest)”. That is, in looking back at specific moments, SZA’s pleading with herself to overcome.
SZA heals by evaluating past versions of herself and sometimes comparing herself to various revenge-takers throughout culture. “Low” builds on her feature last year on Summer Walker’s “No Love”, reinforcing her sole interest in the physical side of a relationship, her steadfastness mirrored in the song’s dark, forceful trap beat. On “Kill Bill”, she likens herself to the title villain of the Quentin Tarantino films of the same name. “I might kill my ex,” she casually admits, before clarifying, “I still love him, though / Rather be in jail than alone.” (Producer Rob Bisel and Carter Lang’s guitar lines even echo the melody of “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)”, a song whose Nancy Sinatra version is famously used in the opening credits of Kill Bill: Volume 1.) SZA identifies with the protagonist of Gone Girl. And to be fair, on “Snooze”, she throws some sympathy the other way, suggesting that when she’s infatuated with someone so much, they could be a murderer and she wouldn’t care--only as long as they were infatuated with her, too. 
Sure, there are moments of bleakness on SOS, like on “Used”, where SZA shares she’s essentially used to feeling used, the amount of death she’s experienced in her personal life and witnessed along with the world making her numb to exploitation. When she sings, “My pussy precedes me,” on “Blind”, it’s a flex, but it’s also delivered with a sigh, as if this is all that there is. But the more she lets her voice soar, the closer she gets to self-acceptance, if not self-actualization. She bends around the skitter of the hi hats and the whirring synths on the subtly thrilling “Notice Me”. Her flow is better than it’s ever been on “Blind”; the pitch-shifted melisma of the title in the chorus sounds like she’s traversing the page as well as the scales, showing what she can be in one fell swoop. Most impressive is how effortlessly SZA fronts rock instrumentals, whether the pop punk bursts of “F2F” or the “Fade Into You”-esque strumming of “Nobody Gets Me”.
When SZA brags, it’s sometimes sandwiched between bouts of insecurity, and both sides of her internal monologue are all the more powerful because of it. “Nobody Gets Me” and the finger-snapped “Special” are buoyed by the “I might steal your girl” confidence of “Conceited” and it’s refrain of “I’m bettin’ on me”. “Far” samples words from Sadhguru, a famous yogi she met, saying, “If nobody wants you, you’re free”, as if SZA is rising to the top alone. What follows, though, is a broadcast dialogue over whether that very mode of thought is even worth it. Ultimately, it’s the words of folks since departed that ring truest. Her late grandmother Norma Rowe introduces “Open Arms” with, “When you do your best...that’s all you can do,” a breakthrough that allows SZA to realize “I’m the only one that’s holdin’ me down”. And then there’s album closer “Forgiveless”, which features samples of “The Stomp” by Ol’ Dirty Bastard and Bjork’s “Hidden Place”, songs by two of the most iconoclastic figures of the 90s and early 2000s with whom SZA likely feels a kinship. “I don’t mind burnin’ bridges,” SZA declares. ODB’s closing words profess love for everyone. SZA has that love to give, but on SOS, she’s unafraid to let you know when you’re impeding her ability to love herself.
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truethes · 2 years
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i talk a lot about kuro in latest chapters but honestly this is still iconic.
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sexbot300 · 1 month
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telling them they have a small dick!
pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)
⤷ 18+, MDNI
tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.
a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)
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Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary
Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’ 
Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.
Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it. 
A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”
With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.” 
In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.
“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.
Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.
He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.
My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to. 
Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”
He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.
“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?” 
Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?” 
“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.
Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.
“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”
“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.
Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.
“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary. 
Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”
With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”
A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”
“W-what?” Your voice croaked.
“They’re unreliable.”
“Want to know something else funny?”
Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.
He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”
-
On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar. 
Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek. 
Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.
Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.
“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling. 
It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out. 
“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.” 
Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.
“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”
All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression. 
“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”
“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”
He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”
“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“
“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”
Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.
He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”
-
You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.
Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.
“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”
“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this. 
Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.
“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”
Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull. 
“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.
“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”
“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl” 
“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.
Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.
“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.
Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.
“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.
“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below. 
“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.” 
Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.
Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.
“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”
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Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date
“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.
Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort. 
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Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was. 
Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.
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Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand. 
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A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.
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Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight. 
My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.
His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more. 
‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’
Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before. 
“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end. 
“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor. 
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Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.
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Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard. 
“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”
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Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.
Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.
Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.
“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.
“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body. 
Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core. 
While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.
Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own. 
“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands. 
Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?” 
Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”
Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.
Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.
Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”
-
Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs. 
It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.
Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.
Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”
Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you. 
He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.
For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been. 
Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.
“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”
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obxsprincess · 5 months
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warnings ; toxic references, degradation
”pretty thing ain’t ya pogue” rafe hissed in your ear — fat tip pushing in your sopping pussy. his hickies all over your body, which he had you bent over his couch cushion like a rag doll. thighs jerked around his waist, your tits pressed against the plush couch as his dick slid into your puffy walls
“and fuckin’ tight,” rafes words were so filthy you uncontrollably clenched around his cock. sucking him in even deeper and yet pushing him out. he grunted in response. “fucking do that again and ‘m cumming inside you - damn you want that don’t you baby?” his hand pulled your forehead so you were looking at him — the mere size of his cock making water pool in your lash line. his slow, taunting thrusts left your mind deliciously blank.
“c-cameron we auh auh- cant!” the fact you even got it out surprised you both, yet only made the bastard smirk. “sure I can, you don’t have a say baby’ I’m doing you a favor slut, let’s not forget that, yea’?” a moan slipped from your lips as his hips began to slap into your ass — many moans as he pushed down on your back, thrusting your hips up even higher he hit your sweet spot perfectly “god, such a fucking shame your a pogue, prettiest slut I’ve ever seen. never had kook cock have you, mhm?” you knew he was enjoying the taunts far to much, but his heavy balls slapping against your clit truly blurred out any scoffs you could have resided to. instead being replaced by dirty gasps and moans — all falling from your drool kissed lips. it was answer enough — and he fucking loved it.
“good cause’ mines the only one you’ll ever gonna have, pogue” the words disappeared in your mind before they even set it, the feeling of his tip thrusting right into your g spot triggered your electric laced climax. cunt walls quivering around his dick — balls deep in your squelching pussy.
“p-pull out” you tried to manage — your blurry tinged head barely doing anything to truly protest. it just felt so good.
in an instant, he pried your legs from his waist and pushed your hips down onto the couch — prone boning you from the back as you felt him lick a strike up the side of your neck. “don’t tell a kook what to do baby” the words almost registered right before he slammed to the hilt once more — his tip twitched against your cervix, a deep groan leaving his throat as his cum leaked down your clenching cunt. “f-fuck you rafe” you panted. feeling him collapse gently on top of you, peeling your sweat brimmed hair from your neck as he layed another purple mark. “your hot when your mad, pogue,” you gasped as he kneeled behind you — thrusting his cum deeper into you, holding it in. “but say it again sweetheart and I’ll make sure every one of your filthy fucking friends knows you belong to me,” you were exhausted — and yet his greedy fingers found your clit, circling it just to prove his point. so sensitive from the touch you bucked against him. “none of them fuck you like I do, do they baby? yea’ none of them ever fuckin’ will”
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a/n : toxic rafe just does things to me… carnally. I needed to write a quick blurb lmao. imagining he saw you at a party and well… it’s rafe hehe
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tonycries · 1 day
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Prettier When Messy!
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Synopsis. They aren’t afraid to get messy while making a mess of you, in fact, they love it - in all sorts of ways.
Pairing. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, bréeding, really messy, light pússy-smacking (Nanami’s), spítting, cúmplay like a LOT of it, squírting, oral (female + male receiving), fíngering, overstím, jealousy (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 3.6k
A/N. Wrote this n’ then had to have a run in the rain for a spiritual deep-cleanse. 
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Big n’ scary? No problem!
Now, Toji wouldn’t consider himself to be a nice man. But to be honest, the way you’re looking up at him with such adorably teary eyes, lips wobbling so nervously at his rock-hard cock, has got his heart lurching ever-so-slightly. And as does his swollen dick. 
“What’s wrong, doll?” he caresses your cheek, like the shameless bastard he is. Heavy balls twitching at the way he catches your sloppy pussy clenching in- anticipation? Fear? Both? “Nervous?”
“I um-” And oh if Toji thought he was painfully hard before then he wasn’t ready for that delirious little nod you give him. 
Ah, it never gets old. He loved this effect on you - how cute it was that you were so cockdrunk already, letting out a few whines. A few complains about how he was too big. And he knew exactly what to do about it. 
“Spread those legs some more, pretty.” 
And you barely even get the time to react before Toji’s impatiently wrestling open your legs so shamefully for him. Taking in one long look at how perfect you were for him - quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below - before spitting once. Twice. Thrice. 
Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. So debauched and wet for him - and if Toji was any less of a man he’d just fuck your pretty pussy right then and there. 
But, no. Oh no, instead, with a low hiss, he rests his swollen dick on your stomach, letting you gape at him in awe. How he was so hot and heavy on you. 
“See?” Toji muses, voice so infuriatingly even for someone that was leaking thick, hot precum all over your stomach. “Nothing to be afraid of. In fact, m’just gonna be right-” He traces his finger down your tummy, resting right above an invisible line where his fat tip was. “Here.” Pressing down. Hard. 
You jerk at the pressure, jolting - God, you should’ve known that Toji would fuck so mean. Playing around with the pretense of “comforting you” to tease you. To watch the way you keen and gasp at his movements. 
“But-” your breath hitches as he smears his precum all over your skin. So fucking sloppy, having way too much fun than he actually should - all at your expense.
“No buts, jus’ told ya, m’girl.” Toji chuckles darkly, leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear. Cock twitching so ferally on top of you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation. “N’ now, I’ve had enough of being nice so are ya gonna take it am I gonna have to make ya?”
And nothing more is said - by either of you. 
Because with that, it seems the last bit of Toji’s patience - or his restraint - has snapped at the sight of you splayed out so deliciously, too much for him. You, his favorite meal - gaping at his thick cock, all needy and messy with his precum - how could a man possibly say no?
“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck- s’too-” you squeal deliriously as he slides his angry tip between your swollen folds. 
Stretching you to your limits. Mindlessly pushing in quick, purposeful little grinds to bully his massive cock inside your tight pussy. Each movement getting more and more erratic than the last. More desperate. Sloppier. 
So debauched and dirty.  
And Toji - oh he’s just in heaven - letting out a deep, guttural groan as he just barely bottoms out. Heavy balls smacking your ass, those tufts of hair at his base scratching your throbbing clit just right. Thumb stroking that sinful little line of precum he’d made - and where he could feel himself bulging inside you. 
“Hey, doll, ya think I can go even deeper?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - To clean
You don’t know what makes you flinch more - the way Nanami was buried dizzyingly nose-deep in your cunt, lapping so greedily at your sweet sweet juices, or the way he just stops.
“K-Kento?” you whisper breathlessly, mind reeling from both the way you were so close and the final, deep kiss your husband gives to your swollen clit. Grinning at the way your hips jerk mindlessly in protest as he pulls away. “Why did you-”
And whatever disappointed whine dies in your throat at the heavenly sight before you - and oh it was so hard to look at Nanami without wishing he was back in-between your thighs. Hair ever-so-slightly disheveled, glasses sliding down his nose, venturing dangerously towards where your slick was glossing so prettily over his lips, all the way up, up, up-
“‘Why’, my love?” 
That snaps you out of your little reverie, and no sooner are the words out of Nanami’s mouth before he’s leaning in - capturing yours. So sloppy and desperate. 
You let out a muffled moan at the way you were tasting yourself and him and you. So sweet that you wondered which one of you tasted this addictive. 
“Now now,” and then he’s pulling away, angry cock twitching so painfully at your broken little whimper. “Don’t get too greedy.” As if you could be anything but. 
And maybe if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have said anything about the pure disrespect shining so uncharacteristically in Nanami’s eyes. About how utterly mean he was being as he slid his fat, weeping head up and down your swollen folds. All the way from the base, just grazing your throbbing clit. 
“I dunno if you deserve this, my love.” Nanami gives your quivering pussy a little smack! as if it was a little punishment, letting your slick smear all over his fingertips. “You’ve just been so messy- just look at my glasses.”
And oh, you can’t look away. 
Because your juices were blurring his glass, dripping so enticingly off of it that whatever rational little part of you thought it was on purpose. Absent-mindedly, you wondered how Nanami could see a damn thing. Seemingly moving on sheer instinct as he slides a long finger along the frame. Slowly. 
“I- want it s’bad, Ken- Give it to me.”
Several things happen at once, and before you know it, Nanami’s shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling your fucked-out moan as he immediately presses into your heavenly pussy. Not even bothering to ease you into it this time before he’s thrusting into you. Rough. Again. And again and-
“They were expensive, y’know.” Nanami presses right in the back of your tongue, just loving how adorably you gag and moan around him. “The least you can do is clean me off.”
And you don’t have to be asked twice - or at all, really. 
Because you’re sucking and swirling your tongue around Nanami’s warm fingers like they’re your favorite candy. Looking him right in the eyes with such a deceivingly innocently, matching the pace of his hips in and out in and out in and- “Such a cute lil’ slut f’me, my love. When you’re all done with that, take care of m’cock too, y’got it very, very messy.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Hairband.
When Geto ties his hair back, you know you’re not going to be let off easy. Why would you?
It just means he’ll have no mercy - have you folded in half and stuffed full of his thick cock, begging and crying to just let you cum. It felt pathetic, really, but at this point you were too far gone - babbling delirious little pleas while he rocked his dick into your plushy cunt. Relentlessly.
“Please please please- hngh- Sugu- m’so close.” you whine, hips bucking wildly. Tears streaming down your face, your snug pussy clenching so tight that some part of Geto almost wanted to tease you for it. 
“Awww, poor baby. You wanna cum?” he coos, voice so mockingly innocent. Barely audible over the blood roaring in your ears. “Y’know what I always hah- say…”
And despite his words, Geto sounds as fucked-out as you - because, hell, he’s been torturing himself just as much as he was your poor cunt. Cock rock-hard and so so angry inside your heavenly pussy, teasing his orgasm while he waited for you to explode with yours. 
Sobbing out, “I- hngh- I know!” Breath hitching at the way his heavy balls sting your ass with each thrust. Sure to leave marks for tomorrow - his fingers on your hips, yours running down his sculpted back. “Wan- me to- hah- squirt, f’you. I wan’ to.”
God, it was so hard to not paint your pretty pussy white already. 
Instead, Geto’s capturing your swollen lips with his - partially because they were irresistible, partially because he really needed to shut up those cute lil’ whines right now.
“Not just squirt.” he moans against your lips. Fingers frenzied - almost painful - on your throbbing clit now. “Wan’ you to fuckin’ cover me in it- fuck-”
And he seems so content, smug about the way you flinch each time he yells out little profanities into your mouth. At the way you’re so cockdrunk, barely even realizing the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hit your poor, abused g-spot. Finger frenzied on your clit - not even bothering to draw those steady little circles anymore, just lewd little patterns to get you off. 
He wanted this. Needed this so bad - needed to have you cover him with your sweet sweet juices until it’s glistening all over him. Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 
And, well, cover him you do.
Because no matter how much you might babble out those adorable little protests, Geto knew your pretty pussy well. Almost too well. 
Well enough to know that you’ll have your orgasm crashing through you. So hard and borderline violent that it’s all you can do to claw at his back in an effort to get him to fucking slow down. That familiar little song and dance. 
Because Geto didn’t stop until he was all glistening with your essence - absolutely depraved in the act. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him. Only milking his painfully hard cock on your trembling pussy harder. 
Everywhere. See, the hairband always comes in handy. And Geto wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here right now, letting your juices smear all over his aching dick, to his abs - darting all the way to his lower face.
It was so messy. So debauched - it sends Geto over the edge as well. Pumping thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your pussy white. Loving how fucking sloppy your pretty lil’ cunt was as it sucked up everything so greedily. Again and again-
“Hey, gorgeous.” Geto mutters, tongue darting out to get a taste of the slick coating his lower lip. Honestly, he doubted you could even hear him with how fucked-out you were. “Can y’ do it on m’tongue, too?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - You look good in white
“Fuck fuck fuck, open wider f’me, baby-” Choso groans, angling his head just right to catch the way your throat bulges so obscenely around his swollen cock. Watching the way it goes in and out in and out in and-
You were so gorgeous like this - you always were - but here on your knees, nose pressed firmly against the small tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis, he thinks you’ve never looked better. 
Now all he has to do is hold off until the best bit.
But it was so difficult when you’re shoving yourself down inch by fucking inch. Milking Choso’s aching cock for all he’s worth. So greedy with the way you were gagging and choking so prettily around his thick cock. Swirling your tongue under his sensitive slit just the way you knew he liked. 
And oh it has Choso feeling like he could just pass out. He could just feel the way you were smirking - knowing exactly what you were doing.
“Sh-shit.” he gasps, fingers trembling on your hair as he fucks your mouth like his own personal fucktoy. “Ya hngh- like this, huh?” Thighs quivering, hips stuttering deeper into your hot mouth. “Like me using that s-smart mouth like ha- this?”
The only response he gets are your nails dragging down his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. A warning - a request. One that Choso knew was a sign that you needed to taste him - to have him. 
One that had him speeding up his sloppy thrusts, over and over- Abs aching with the movement, veins throbbing at a maddening little thump! thump! thump! against the roof of your mouth. 
“Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your slutty mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 
Faster. Deeper. Sanity held together only by a delicate tether - one that snaps when you look up at him with those beautiful eyes, moaning around Choso’s cock like you were begging him to ruin you. 
Oh and then Choso’s cumming and cumming so hard he thinks he might’ve just died and gone to heaven right there. And you - you were such an angel, tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth. 
Mixing with his cum in such a sinful combination as he spills desperately into you, shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 
So fucking filthy. 
Only getting filthier when that feral, debauched part of Choso really can’t help but pull out ever-so-slightly. He chuckles at the way your eyes widen in surprise when he smacks his weeping dick all over your face.
Ah, this was his favorite part - always was. And he can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted as he smears his seed all over your face. Twitching angrily in his fist at the way it drips down all over your chin, forming a lewd little pool on the floor. So, so pretty for him. 
“Now now,” Choso lets out a guttural grunt, balls squeezing so painfully at the ruined state of you. “Wan’ see if I can hah- mess up this cunt jus’ the same, baby.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Wipe those tears!
Your only problem was that Sukuna was as mean as he was absolutely filthy. 
“Aww, pretty baby.” Those words would be reassuring - but you knew better. Because his tone was just dripping with something so dangerous - something that had you feeling more and more like Sukuna’s little toy. “I thought you could give me another one.”
“B-but-” you gasp. “S���too much, Kuna, don’t think-”
“You will. Or-” he cuts you off, fighting that feral, cruel little urge to shove his entire dick in your snug cunt. No care or concern for those big, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ll just make you. Your choice.”
God, you could almost sob - maybe from the way Sukuna was chuckling at your expense. Maybe from the way he was pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Trying to fuck out- which number orgasm was this again? Ah, you don’t even know - and Sukuna doesn’t care. 
He’s had you creaming around his fingers- his tongue- his thigh. And now, all he wants is for you to cum on his dick. You could almost feel his weeping tip graze your cervix already and- was he even halfway in, yet?
“Nope.” Sukuna hums, leaning down to those tears rolling down your cheek. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Maybe m’not even a quarter inside your pretty cunt. Why don’t y’take a look for yourself, brat?”
And it seemed like Sukuna was well and fully intent on driving you insane. Because no sooner have you craned your neck to take a glance, you’re met with the most sinful sight you’ve ever seen - your swollen folds stretched so obscenely around his weeping tip, soaked with precum and sucking him up so eagerly. Sukuna’s fingers toying deftly with your sensitive clit, rolling it between his fingers.
Which really made sense why he loved this little routine - have you pathetically pretending you couldn’t cum for him again, acting like your slutty lil’ pussy wasn’t trying to fucking milk him dry. He loves it. Loves the way your mind is telling you to run away but your needy cunt wants more more more-
“Enough of the games now.” he tuts, wrapping a hand around your neck, pulling down down down onto his thick cock. 
And you can only keen in response, tears streaming down your face faster because his cock too big. The stretch too sinful. Prominent veins grazing your plushy walls in a maddening  bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to. 
Sukuna wants you to cum- he needs you to. More badly than he wants to cum. Thumb just erratic on your clit, so sloppy and needy.
And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that sensitive little tears roll down your cheeks. Not even realizing it at first, barely registering the stars behind your eyes, white-hot pleasure shooting up your cunt. Over and over-
Sukuna quickly darts out his tongue to lick them away. Long, languid stripes up your face. So fucking sloppy with it on purpose. But you can’t even bring yourself to be disgusted. Mind reeling with how good you felt and those sharp fingernails resting right over your racing pulse. 
Dangerous. A warning. 
As if Sukuna would kill you if you didn’t take his cock - when he was the one that actually felt like dying right now. 
Because you were too cute like this, cockdrunk and milking him greedily inch by fucking inch. So fucking tight. Enough to give the king of curses heart palpitations, honestly. 
A full-on heart attack when he finally bottoms out. Ramming the rest of his length in one quick, harsh thrust. 
He smacks his lips, savoring the salty taste of your tears. Some tiny part of his cold heart so fucking proud. He knew his lil’ slut could give him another one - you always do.  “Dry up those tears, brat. Because I haven’t cum yet.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - “To think of me~”
“T-Toru, I really need to go-”
“No no no- fuck m’so close, sweetheart.” Gojo gasps into your mouth. Hips so frenzied and sloppy against yours, squeezing his throbbing cock in you like a man possessed. The idea of stopping not even close in his pussydrunk mind. 
It’s been this way for so long now, and you’d only been halfway out the door before Gojo was pulling you back into the bedroom. That lil’ sundress was way too pretty that he just had to hike it up your hips and pull aside your drenched panties. Making sure to stuff your pretty pussy full. 
And, well, the fact that you were going to meet one of your old guy friends might have had something to do with it, too. 
Hey, even the strongest gets jealous sometimes. And Gojo is so sloppy when he is. Hips stuttering and bucking wildly into yours. All filthy desperation where he was usually so suave in bed.
He just can’t help but make a mess of your dripping cunt, reeling back to watch the way your sloppy hole struggles to take all of him. Glistening and trying to milk the soul out of him in the dim lighting. In and out in and out in and-
You’re letting out such a pathetic whine, “But- m’so-”
“Close?”
“Late.”
Of course, Gojo rolls his eyes with the audacity of someone that wasn’t the reason you’ll have to make up some excuse about traffic being awful this time around. Instead, he’s rolling his thumb over your sore clit , breath hot against your ear, “Guess m’gonna have to hurry up then, hm?”
It’s all that’s said before he’s fucking into you deliriously. Faster. Deeper. Bouncing you on the plush mattress like some slut. 
Scoffing, “Y’should just stay home.” Hips snapping ever the more mercilessly with each word. “Stay with me insead. I’m sure she-” He gives your pussy a quick, sharp smack! laughing at the way you’re moaning breathlessly. “-definitely agrees.” 
“Shit- feels s’good hah- shit shit-”
So fucking sloppy. Like he was trying to fuck the idea of staying home into you - each thrust so harsh. Running on pure jealousy and the feeling of your heavenly cunt wrapped around him. Unforgiving. 
“Toru- m’gonna cum- I’m so-” And it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. Nothing but white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and it’s so good that you’re pulling Gojo closer by his toned hips. Being late be damned because you’re cumming so hard you’re sure you see the pearly gates of heaven itself.
Or maybe that was just Gojo - tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a strangled gasp of what sounds like your name. Thick, white ropes that gush out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his sensitive balls. 
It feels so heavenly that Gojo really can’t help but check if it looks that way too. 
Thumbing apart your folds to watch the way his seed spills out of you, so fucking filthy as it pools on the fresh sheets. So bloated and messy with him. Pulling out ever-so-slightly like he was torn between milking out every last drop of cum on your cute pussy and making a mess of your panties.
The latter wins, apparently. Because he’s painting your panties white, shooting out thick spurts of cum that smear all over your legs. So drenched and flimsy that it was almost difficult for Gojo to snap them playfully back in place.
“Something to remember me by when you go. Have fun~”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
3K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 7 months
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Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself
Length: 4700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger
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Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.
His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.
There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 
Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 
Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.
Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 
It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 
Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.
Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.
He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 
There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.
Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.
This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.
"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.
My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?
This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 
He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.
I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.
"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 
Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.
Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.
Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 
Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 
Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?
Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.
Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 
Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.
I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.
On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 
Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.
Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 
And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.
Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?
He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.
That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?
He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 
Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 
"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 
He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 
What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.
It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.
Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?
"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.
No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.
He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 
When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 
Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 
"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.
How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?
Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.
Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?
"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.
Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.
Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.
Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?
Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.
My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?
Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 
He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.
Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.
Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.
He texted you back.
Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.
With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.
CALL FROM Pretty Girl
Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."
A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"
He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"
When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."
Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 
"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."
Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."
Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"
Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"
"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."
"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."
Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."
If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"
"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"
Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."
Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."
He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."
You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."
"Just okay?"
"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."
Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."
"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."
"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"
He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 
"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 
"Totally naked."
"Fuck."
"Send me another one?"
"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 
Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.
"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."
He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"
The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."
A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."
You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."
Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."
You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."
"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."
"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."
"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.
"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"
"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."
Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"
"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."
--------------------------
It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."
Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"
You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 
"Yeah. It's Rooster."
Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."
"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.
You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 
And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 
You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 
You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  
As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.
Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.
"Pretty Girl."
Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.
And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 
When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."
Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 
"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."
"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.
"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."
You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."
He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."
-------------------------
I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 month
Text
⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.
m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.
You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?
yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.
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The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.
The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.
From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.
"Blood red roses." The card said.
"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."
Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.
It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.
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You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.
Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.
Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.
Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.
It was a promise, he had told you.
His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.
In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.
... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.
He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.
Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.
I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -
Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.
You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.
What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.
Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.
You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.
Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.
As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.
Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.
That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.
But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.
Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.
He was too clever to let it happen any other way.
It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.
Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.
💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
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This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ ONE MORE CHANCE? (IT WON'T BE THE LAST) ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ you hate your ex, but nobody else can fuck you half as well — so maybe you'll give him one more chance.
contents: fem!reader. implied unprotected sex, dirty talk (?), lil' bit of praise, lil' bit of degradation, oral (fem. receiving), couch sex, gojo covers your mouth at one point, cursing, lil' bit of teasing/mocking (?). sorta toxic but whatevs we love a toxic king! 2000+ words.
author's note: got lazy in the middle of writing this loll
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"he's just so fucking annoying," you groan, swirling the drink in your hand. the ice clinks against the side of the glass as you lift the cup to your lips, sipping the whiskey and wincing at the way it burns the back of your throat. you lean back in the plush couch in your friend's living room and sigh. "i don't know why i ever dated him."
your friend nods in agreement, eyes fixed on her phone for another second before she turns it towards you. "look what he posted on his instagram."
on your friend's screen is an instagram story, and the tag shows that it's from your ex-boyfriend — satoru gojo. tired of his insensitivity and annoying nature, you had dumped him two weeks ago, and god, you'd never had such a petty ex in your life.
after you broke up with him, he blocked you from all his socials and got all his friends to do the same. so, since he practically knew everyone, you lost a hundred followers.
and apparently, he's out fucking some other girl right now.
the story on your friend's phone is a picture of a smirking satoru with his arm wrapped around some girl with a red plastic cup in her hand. they're bathed in overhead red lights, and you can barely make out a familiar dark-haired boy in the back — another one of satoru's fuckboy friends.
"he's such a manwhore," your friend says with an eyeroll. "d'you want to stay the night?"
you shake your head, setting down the now-empty glass on a coaster. "it's alright, i wouldn't want to intrude," you say with a rueful smile.
your friend eyes you suspiciously for another second before leaning back in her own seat and closing her eyes. "stay safe, it's pretty late."
you nod and toss your things into your bag before stepping out the door, closing it gently behind you. as you get in your car and drive back to your house, thoughts of satoru fill your head. 
you don't recognize the girl under satoru's arm, but she's pretty — too pretty for him. sure, satoru was conventionally attractive, with his ocean-blue eyes and flawless physique, but still. 
satoru was a shitty boyfriend, and now he's an even shittier ex. when you two dated, his spoiled brattiness and constant sorry, i forgot's drove you insane. he couldn't even remember your birthday. it was a miracle that you tolerated him for that long — until your one-year anniversary, which obviously slipped his mind.
"you're so insensitive," you groan, dragging a hand down your face. satoru suppresses a sigh, blue eyes looking everywhere but at you. "and— satoru, are you even listening to me?"
you're quiet for three seconds before he responds, and naturally, it was with a "huh? yeah, what is it?"
every time. every single time.
"it's over," you mutter, shaking your head frustratedly. "we're over, satoru."
"fine," he responds after a moment. "i never really liked you anyways."
"fuck you."
if you didn't give a fuck about that white-haired bastard anymore, why did the memory of your breakup still sting?
you try to tell yourself that it doesn't matter. maybe it was for the best — he was out with some pretty girl, so why couldn't you go out and sleep with some hot guy? 
you make up your mind right as you step into your house, and thirty minutes later, you're in a tight dress and four-inch heels. and it's almost funny how easy it is to doll up when you don't have a horny boyfriend trying to fuck you every two seconds.
right before you step out the door, you eye yourself in the mirror and can't help but admire the way your dress hugs your waist, accentuating your curves. that smug manwhore didn't know what he was missing out on — so why not show him?
you pull out your phone and take a picture of yourself, snapping a couple before deciding on one and posting it on your story. you knew he'd see it — you intentionally let his burner stay unblocked, and coincidentally, he didn't block you either. 
just as you push open your door, you realize that your phone's on death's door — just over five percent remaining. so you plug it into your charger, kicking your feet impatiently as you wait for it to charge to a reasonable amount.
some part of you wants to chicken out, to stay home and spend the night watching a classic romcom. but the other part of you, the part that can't ignore the fact that you haven't had sex in two weeks, urges you to go out and get laid.
so twenty minutes later, when your phone finally hits forty percent, you practically throw open the door and rush out and find yourself face-to-face with the guy who's somewhere between belly conklin and andy bernard on your most-disliked list. satoru gojo.
"what the fuck are you doing here?" you snap, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold night air touches your bare skin. satoru eyes you up and down, and suddenly, you're very aware of just how exposed you are. "satoru, answer the damn question."
"where are you going?" he asks, eyes narrowing when they settle on your dress's deep neckline. 
"none of your business," you reply shortly, biting the inside of your cheek. unfortunately, satoru looks good. just like in his instagram story, he has one button undone in his collar, and his hair is rumpled and perfect all at the same time. "answer the fuckin' question."
"saw your story," satoru replies, slipping his hands into his pocket. "you going out on a date or something?"
the question catches you off guard, and your irritated expression drops for a moment. strangely enough, satoru doesn't have his usual smug expression on his face — he looks conflicted. he never looks conflicted.
"doesn't matter," you respond, walking around him and relishing the way your heels clack on the concrete ground. without turning around, you ask, "so, what about my story made you come over?"
you're not sure why you're baiting him. maybe it's the slight chance that he would beg to get you back, maybe it's the tightness in your chest and pussy, or maybe you just want the satisfaction of seeing satoru squirm.
whatever it is, it lets satoru take you by the wrist and drag you back inside. you suppose that if you can get dick at home, then there's no point in going all the way to the club. and it's not like you're gonna get back together over one night — this would be purely physical. he wanted you, and you wouldn't mind him.
"fuck, right there, sweetheart," satoru groans, pushing your legs impossibly farther apart as his tongue laps at your pussy. the two of you barely made it to the couch in your living room before satoru pushed you down, a mischievous smile on his lips. one thing turned to another, and soon enough he was on his knees in front of you and eatung you out like a starving man.
"you're such a loser," you mutter, threading your fingers through his hair as his tongue makes you see stars. he really was — who shows up to their ex's place after getting dumped? a laugh bubbles out of satoru's lips while his mouth is still on your pussy and it makes you shiver. satoru looks up at you, an amused gleam in his eyes.
"s' that so?" satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your inner thigh with a smirk. "then why'd you let me in, huh?"
"why would i go out when i can just get fucked at home?" you say dryly, a smile growing on your lips. "since you made the effort of coming all the way here."
"my pleasure," satoru scoffs sarcastically, getting up and joining you on the couch as he tugs you into his lap. "so i'm the pathetic loser here, yeah?"
you nod, letting satoru unzip the back of your dress with one hand. he laughs and shakes his head. "you're the one who let me in, baby."
"yeah, well, you showed up."
"you coulda slammed the door in my face."
"maybe i should've," you mutter, not liking the way he's grinning at you. "you gonna fuck me or what?"
"aw, you're desperate. how cute," he replies without missing a beat. it's been a while since you got to banter with satoru like this, and some part of you misses it. sure, he's disgustingly cocky, but at least he has the dick to back it up. and it's fun, too — you like the chase, and clearly, he does too.
"not really," you say with a shrug. that's a lie — the only reason you let him in was to get fucked, and contrary to the excuses falling from your mouth, you were getting impatient. not that he needed to know that.
"fine. have it your way, brat." satoru smiles cheekily and bounces his leg up and down, making you grit your teeth as you struggle to focus.
you make a face at satoru, crossing your arms. "what are you—"
"waiting."
"for what?"
"for you to beg."
your mouth falls open, and you glare at satoru, hating the way he's smugly grinning at you. this isn't the first time he's asked you to beg for him to fuck you — back when the two of you were dating, he had no problem edging you the whole night and practically making you cry for him.
"not this again," you groan, letting out a drawn-out sigh. "just fuck me already, satoru. or i'll go get someone else to."
satoru clicks his tongue, smiling lazily. "we both know you won't do that."
again, he's right, and god, you hate him for it. "just shut up and fuck me."
"alright, since you asked so nicely," satoru drawls, running his tongue over his teeth. he studies you intently, white hair falling into his eyes. before you can ask what he's looking at, he has you pinned against the couch cushions, face down and ass up. 
"good girl, stayin' nice and quiet for me," satoru groans, hand clasped over your mouth as he pounds into you from behind. "you always talked too much. never knew when to shut that damn mouth."
you moan against his hand, unable to think about anything else but satoru and his dick. that's the only reason the two of you stayed together for as long as you did — because the sex was irreplaceable. and after two weeks without getting fucked, you seriously consider throwing all pride out the window and begging for him back.
"shit, you're so fuckin' tight," satoru says with a rough laugh. "have you really not fucked with anyone else since you dumped me?" 
you shake your head, eyes pressed shut as satoru continues sloppily thrusting into you. there's a coil in your chest that's threatening to burst, and the whines slipping out of your lips increase in both pitch and volume.
at this point, you can hardly remember why you broke up with satoru — or maybe, he's just not giving you a chance to remember. his pace is relentless and mind-numbing, and shit, maybe it's for the best.
when he finally lets you cum, it's the best feeling you've had in what feels like forever. the edges of your vision go white, and satoru removes his hand from your mouth, letting out the lewd, muffled sounds that you've been suppressing all this time. not long after, satoru cums too, and it's sloppy, messy, and all over you. 
satoru collapses on top of your back, hot breaths slipping out of his mouth and brushing against your cheek. "took me so good, baby," he groans, pressing his lips to your neck and laughing breathily. "we should do this again sometime."
you shouldn't like this. you should be shoving him out your door, but his mischievous smile is irresistible. and even though you know this time probably won't end any different than the rest, you decide to give satoru one more chance.
"yeah, same time tomorrow?"
"anythin' for you."
3K notes · View notes
audisive · 2 months
Text
♪ SAD GIRL. pretty when you cry alternative
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: another bad day calls for another solution. simon knows best, after all.
tags: smut, mentions of crying, comfort, self-indulgent, dumbification ??, dirty talk, a sprinkle of breeding, unedited filth
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      You're not entirely sure how you got here.
You know why; you'd been stressing your precious head off for the whole week. These past few days seem to be worse than the past ones that had you crying your eyes out in Simon's arms. University has taken its toll on you, and your work is anything but helpful. You don't even have time to cry now! At some point, you barely even had time to spend with your beloved boyfriend, so he took matters into his own capable hands.
Still, you don't know how. You try to remember, but it's hard to think when Simon's even harder dick is stretching out your – in his words – pretty little cunt once more. It's no use trying to work your brain, he claims, not when your shoulders are slumped, your head is leaning on him, and he's rubbing his thick cock against the walls of your pussy just right.
Really, you tried to deal with your stress in a more appropriate way, but you knew it was futile. You admitted defeat when you felt his hands slip from your waist to your hips, when his lips found your neck, when his cold fingers played with your clit and when he'd eased you down on his cock with praises and whispers.
It's just not your fault that he knows the right buttons to push, and he seems to love turning your brain off. What's going on in that brain 'f yours, lovie? C'mon, 'nough of that. Leave it all t'me. If he had it his way, he'd have you drop out of that awful university you always complain about. Please let him provide for you.
"Y'don' even have t' do anything, baby," he grunts in your ear lowly, hot breath hitting your skin. So you don't. You pant against him like a pathetic thing, but you're so far gone in the pleasure that you just can't bring yourself to be a little shy about your state of mind, or rather, the lack of it.
"Such a good fuckin'–" he moans out loud when you clench around him a little too hard without warning, "girl. That's m'girl, tha's it."
You moan his name back, the only thing you can think of. Whining when his thrusts become rougher and harder, he coos, "I know, I know. Almost there, baby, I got'cha."
His pants aren't even all the way down. Shameless bastard! He opted to slide them down his muscular thighs to let the noticeable bulge slip out of its enclosure. His hands have long since shoved themselves under your clothes, not bothering to take them off either. It makes you feel icky, desperate, and utterly pathetic, but the way his cold skin freezes the surface of your bare hips while he moves you up and down on his leaky cock is enough to take your mind off of it.
You're a bit too loud for your own liking, and Simon's dirty talk isn't helping. He laces the lewd sounds of your bedroom with his own groans and grunts that your neighbors are sure to hear and complain about. And when he finds that spot of yours, he pounds you into the mattress like your lives depend on it. You'll just have to ignore the weird looks and glares they give you when you step out of your house.
Oh, but what can you do? You're at his mercy; all you can bring yourself to do is whine and moan for him, but don't worry, he'll take it as a reward for taking such good care of his pretty baby. He's hell-bent on finding ways to comfort you. If he can't fix you with sweet pecks and warm cuddles, he'll fix you up real good with sloppy kisses and his leaky cock. :3 
You'll be a good girl and not complain when he cums in you, right?
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    divider by @cafekitsune !
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theostrophywife · 2 months
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my collar.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: she's my collar by gorillaz (feat. kali uchis)
author's note: sometimes theo just needs to be put in his place and i'm more than happy to deliver that 😏
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It was heinous.
It was criminal. 
It was downright torturous.
Your boyfriend leaned over, his lips grazing your earlobe as he lowered his voice to a husky, seductive tone. “Are you okay, principessa? You seem a little distracted.” 
Crimson colored your cheeks as you straightened against the wingback chair, clearing your throat while you looked around the table, which was currently occupied by your closest friends. All of which were none the wiser to the effect Theo had on you tonight. 
“I’m fine,” you squeaked out. 
“Really?” Theo drawled, sliding his hand down your thigh and squeezing firmly. “Because you haven’t stopped shaking your leg since dinner started. A shame. Malfoy flew in a private chef from France. He really wants to impress his girl. I know what that’s like.” 
You inhaled sharply as his hand trailed higher, his rough and calloused fingers slipping underneath the slit of your dress. “Teddy, please…” 
“Begging already, dolcezza? I thought we agreed to save that for the bedroom.” 
The teasing and taunting, the push and pull, the cat and mouse routine between you and Theo had been constant all night. Punishment for turning down his proposal for a quickie before dinner. It was hard enough to say no to Theo on a normal day, but declining your boyfriend’s proposition of hot, frantic sex while he looked absolutely sinful in a custom three piece suit was nearly impossible. Not to mention painful. 
Still, if you’d taken him up on the offer, you most likely would’ve never made it to dinner. You couldn’t do that to Draco. He needed emotional support. Tonight was his first time ingratiating Hermione into your friend group and you promised that you’d do everything in your power to make her feel welcome. 
With a sigh, you pried Theo’s fingers off of your thigh. “Behave, Theodore.” Your boyfriend pouted like a petulant child. “Draco needs us.” 
You nodded towards the blonde who looked equally panicked and appalled while Blaise recounted embarrassing stories to Hermione. The golden girl seemed amused by the antics, but Malfoy was anything but. 
“Save him before he ruptures a blood vessel,” you murmured to your boyfriend. For good measure, you batted your lashes up at him and gave him a look that he couldn’t refuse. “Please, baby.” 
Theo sighed, mumbling in Italian under his breath. “Gentlemen. Care for a cigar?” 
Thankfully, Zabini’s plan to embarrass the hell out of Draco was momentarily forgotten. Crisis averted. Draco shot you a grateful look, knowing that you were most likely behind the save. Salazar knows that Theo would’ve delighted in the effort of sullying his oldest friend’s reputation if he hadn’t been distracted. 
The boys rose from their chairs, excusing themselves from the room. Theo lingered beside you, dipping his head to place a kiss right underneath your jaw. He sucked lightly on the sweet spot and smirked as you melted against him. The bastard was playing dirty. 
“You owe me for that, cara mia.” 
Desire bloomed in your core, flooding heat through your body as you peered at your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but admire him in his suit. The midnight blue fabric draped over his tall and lean figure like your own personal gift and the deep stormy color brought out his eyes. You flushed as he turned, training his intense gaze on you like he was savoring the sight. With a cheeky grin, Theo shot you a wink before slipping out the door. 
Beside you, Pansy tutted in disapproval. “Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.” 
You flushed as Hermione bit back a grin. The curly haired witch patted your hand. “You have my sympathy. When I first saw Draco in a suit, I nearly spilled wine all over myself.” 
“See, Pans. I’m not the only one,” you murmured in self-defense. “I can’t help it.” 
Pansy shook her head, her glossy bob grazing her chin. “You can and you will. Don’t let Nott turn you into a simpering mess. The Y/N I know would bring a man to his knees.” 
Hermione nodded in agreement. “I think Pansy’s right. You should show Theo who’s really in control.” 
You smirked as an idea started forming in your head. “You’re more devious than you look, aren’t you, Granger?” Hermione flashed you an innocent smile, which made you laugh. Draco had his work cut out for him. You liked her all the more for it. “You two have a point. Maybe I’ll give my boyfriend a taste of his own medicine tonight.” 
Once your mind was made up, the three of you moved on to more important topics. You were fascinated to hear about Hermione’s work on curing lycanthropy while she was equally curious about the proposed laws that you were in the process of bringing before the Wizengamot. The bill was a passion project of yours because it would give rights and protections to muggle born wizards and witches that had never been afforded to them before. You were ready to fight tooth and nail to see it come to fruition. 
Needless to say, you were a little too passionate about it. The last time Rita Skeeter interviewed you under the guise of bringing light to the cause, you nearly strangled the sneaky little witch for taking more interest in your romantic relationship than the work you were trying to achieve. You were glad that Pansy worked her high society charm and publicity experience to diffuse the situation. 
In the end, she bribed and threatened the proper people to have the story killed. It was a blessing in disguise since you ended up giving exclusive rights to the Quibbler, which was now spearheaded by your old classmate Luna. She truly did the story justice. As a bonus, her tenacity seemed to have caught the attention of the pickiest witch you knew. No matter how many times Pansy denied it, you knew your friend was smitten. 
“Babe, you should take your own advice and just ask Luna out already.” 
Your friend nearly choked on her wine. Hermione watched the interaction with an amused expression. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she turned over to Pansy. “I happen to know that you’re just her type.” 
Never in your life had you seen Pansy Parkinson blush that furiously. She caught herself, holding her head high in that aristocratic way of hers. “Of course I’m her type,” your friend declared in a haughty tone. “I’m everyone’s type.” 
You and Hermione looked at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Pansy cracked a smile and laughed along. The three of you were in full hysterics by the time the boys came back. 
Theo slipped back into his seat, squeezing your shoulder gently. “What’s so funny, dolcezza?” 
“Girl talk,” Hermione answered on your behalf. “It’s not for you boys to hear.” 
You nodded in between giggles. “What Granger said.”
Draco groaned. “Bloody hell, they’re unionizing.” 
Your boyfriend raised a brow. He placed his hand back on your thigh, resuming the torturous contact from earlier in the night. “Keeping secrets from me now, Y/N?” 
You plastered a saccharine sweet smile on your face. Theo observed curiously as you peeled his fingers from your leg before firmly holding his hand. “I thought you liked a little mystery, baby.” 
Theo swallowed thickly as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. He held his breath while you pressed your palm against his chest, twirling his tie between red painted fingernails. You lowered your voice into a dark, seductive tone. “Have I told you how good you look tonight? I could just eat you up.” 
Lust blown eyes stared back at you, those familiar piercing blue irises completely swallowed by darkness. Theo shifted in his seat as his gaze dropped down to your mouth. You flashed him an innocent smile before releasing his tie and returning to the conversation happening around you. You could feel that burning gaze on you as you laughed and talked with Pansy and Mattheo. 
For the rest of the dinner, you kept up the nonchalant act. You mustered every ounce of self-control within you and rebuffed all of Theo’s advances. Every time he leaned in for a kiss, you gave him your cheek instead. When the group moved to the sitting room, you walked by his side instead of leading the way because you knew Theo would take advantage and smack your ass when no one was looking. To his surprise, you slapped his backside with a sly little smirk, causing him to glance over at you in shock. 
By the time you were seated on the expensive velvet couch, Theo was practically jittering. His knee bounced beside you as Hermione continued telling you about the Paris trip Draco had planned. Without looking at him, you placed a hand on your boyfriend’s leg and stopped his anxious bouncing. He sighed beside you, no doubt pouting like a petulant child. Yet you didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement, which only made him more desperate. 
“Let’s get out of here,” Theo whispered into your ear. “You can devour me all you’d like, cara mia.”
You shook your head. “We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet, my love.” 
When Draco brought out a spread of chocolate covered strawberries, the opportunity to tease Theo even more quite literally presented itself on a silver platter. You pinched the ripe fruit between your fingers before wrapping your lips around it. Theo watched with rapt attention as you took a slow, deliberate bite, making a whole show of sucking and licking off the chocolate. He gripped the armchair so hard that his knuckles turned white from the strained effort. 
You bit back a smirk as he crossed his legs and tried not to groan. It was obvious that you had the upper hand now. Theo was barely paying attention to whatever anecdote Enzo and Mattheo were rambling to him about. Those electric eyes were trained on you as you picked up another strawberry. 
“Want a bite, Teddy?” you asked lovingly. “They’re sweet.” 
Theo sucked in a breath before nodding slowly. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment. You offered the fruit to him, cradling his cheek gently as he wrapped his lips around the strawberry in a suggestive manner. Theo kept eye contact as he sucked the white chocolate off. You stared back, smiling sweetly as he devoured the fruit in one bite. He seemed frustrated at your unaffected expression, but you were determined not to break. You were going to come out on top tonight. In more ways than one. 
Usually, the two of you would be the first to leave. You rarely made it through an entire night without Theo dragging you into the floo so you could tear each other apart back at your shared flat. Tonight was different though. You lasted all the way through midnight, forcing yourself to laugh and chat with your friends as you ignored your boyfriend’s fuck me eyes from across the room. 
For that, you made sure you were the last to leave. Theo was convinced he was slowly dying. As soon as the two of you stepped through the floor, your boyfriend scrambled towards your direction, itching to get his hands all over you. 
You stepped out of his reach and shook your head. “I didn’t say you could touch me.” 
Theo looked utterly confused. “I’ve never needed permission before.” 
You chuckled darkly. “You really think I’d reward you for acting like a brat all night? You’re going to learn that it’s a bad idea to tease me like that in front of all of our friends.” Theo gaped at your words. “Now, sit. You can use this time to think about what you’ve done.” 
“Dolcezza, please —“
”Did I fucking stutter, Theo?” You jutted your chin to the bed. “Sit. I won’t tell you again.” 
Judging by the look on his face, Theo was stunned at the sudden change, but you knew your boyfriend well enough to notice that he was entirely turned on by it too. He settled on the edge of the bed, watching in anticipation as you made your way over to the vanity table. As slowly as possible, you took off every piece of jewelry one by one. The diamonds glittered brightly as you removed them from your neck, ears, and fingers. 
A tense silence settled in the room while you pulled the pins out of your updo, sending your hair cascading over your shoulders. Theo squirmed in place, groaning at the sight. You knew that seeing your hair down was his weakness.
“Baby,” he pleaded in the darkness. “Can I touch you?” 
You cut him a disinterested glance over your shoulder. “You can help me take my dress off.” 
Theo sighed in relief as you sauntered over to him. His slender fingers struggled with the zipper, eager to tear the fabric off of your body. You met his gaze through the mirror, giving him a stern look. 
“Slow, Theo. You need to be patient.” 
Your boyfriend swallowed thickly, struggling to reign himself in. He concentrated on undressing you slowly, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled the zipper down. He cursed under his breath when your dress pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a little lacy green set — his favorite. 
The struggle was evident in his expression. His gaze raked over your body, settling on the spiky heels that you purposely kept on. The red soled stilettos clicked against the wooden floors as you closed the gap. You smirked as you settled between his legs and tugged on his tie. 
“Your turn,” you rasped while Theo gazed at you with pure hunger. “Let me undress you now.” 
“Okay,” Theo murmured, dazed and confused as you unbuttoned his shirt. 
He hissed when you raked your nails over his chest and made quick work of his tie. Theo started unbuttoning his shirt, but reeled back when you swatted his hands away. Your boyfriend gazed up at you expectantly, letting his hands fall neatly to his sides while you took over. Without much effort, you expertly unbuckled his belt and kneeled before him to help him slip out of his pants. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes flickered back to his face.  
“Get on the bed,” you commanded. 
Theo was mesmerized, inching backwards towards the headboard on his elbows, but keeping his attention on you as you crawled on the mattress with your heels still on. Your boyfriend was completely under your spell as you brought your face close to his, your hair tickling his chest while he eagerly drank you in. 
“What do you want?” 
“I want to kiss you,” he answered without hesitation.
”Then learn to ask for it.” 
Theo nodded, biting his lip. “Can I kiss you?” 
You raised a brow, utterly unimpressed. “Try again, Theo.” 
He chewed on his bottom lip, canines sinking down. “Can I kiss you, please?” 
You smirked, pleased with the magic word. “Good boy.” 
Something dark flashed in Theo’s expression. Your words seemed to awaken a new level of lust and desire within him. The praise gave him a rush that he had never felt before. Theo surged forward, his mouth slanting over yours eagerly. He tasted like wine and strawberries, heady and sinful while he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You granted his request, licking the roof of his mouth as you battled for control. 
Theo welcomed the challenge, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap. You straddled him and tugged at his hair as you flicked your tongue over his bottom lip, licking and sucking until he groaned with need. Theo took liberties without your permission, his greed getting the best of him as he grinded his hard length against your ass. 
You weren’t going to reward his impertinent behavior. You promised to teach him a lesson tonight. Theo gasped as you bit down on his bottom lip before raising his arms above him. He blinked in confusion as you bound him to the headboard with his own tie. It all happened so fast that by the time he noticed, it was already too late. 
Theo tugged at the restraints, squirming underneath you. “Please, cara mia. I want to touch you.” 
You sighed in disappointment. “Then you should've asked.” 
His biceps flexed as he struggled, the veins on his forearms stark and prominent against his olive skin. Panic filled his eyes when he realized that there was no getting out of his binds. “I’m sorry. I got greedy. Please untie me, principessa. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll make it up to you.” 
Theo sounded desperate. You traced his swollen lips with your fingers and tugged at his messy brown waves. His eyes were wild as you straddled him. “Oh, you will,” you drawled, flashing him a devious smirk. “After I’m done with you, you’ll learn not to disobey me, my love.” 
Your boyfriend panted heavily as you kissed down his chest, sucking and nipping at his flesh in a punishing manner. He was barely breathing as you trailed further south, licking a stripe down his torso. Theo whimpered as you pressed sloppy, openmouthed kisses along his abdominal muscles, leaving hickies in the shape of your initials on his skin. You continued taunting him with your mouth, flicking your tongue along his sinfully delicious happy trail like you had all the time in the world. When you grazed your teeth against his v-lines, Theo tugged at his arms so hard that the headboard rattled. 
He was practically in tears as you palmed his cock through the fabric of his underwear. Theo held his breath as you toyed with the band of his boxers, hooking your fingers over the fabric before sliding it off his long legs. His eyes rolled back while you pumped him, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him writhing against your touch. 
A desperate little whine slipped past his lips as you licked at the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over his tip and slurping up his precum. His moans filled the room when you took him down your throat, holding his hips down so he can’t fuck up into your mouth like he wants. Theo cursed in Italian as you pumped him with both hands, all the while sucking down and hollowing your cheeks to suction him in. 
“Fuck, bella. I’m so close,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I’m going to cum.” 
You withdrew your hands and your mouth at that moment, making him whine and groan from the sudden absence. Theo’s eyes flew wide open, tears filling his vision as you shook your head in disapproval. 
“I thought I told you to ask,” you chided. “If you want to cum, use your words.” 
“Please, please, baby, I’ll do whatever you want —“
”I know,” you said before settling over him and sliding off your panties. “And what I want is for you to get me off. Think you can help me with that, Theo?” 
“Yes, yes. Just untie me and I will. I’ll make you feel good, dolcezza. I promise.” 
“Oh, but you can do that right here, right now. With your hands tied.” Theo groaned as you grinded against him, spreading his precum and your slick over him. He moaned when his cock rubbed against your swollen clit with the perfect amount of friction. Theo was bewildered, his breaths coming out in ragged spurts. 
“Be a good boy and let me use you as my fuck toy. You can do that, can’t you, Teddy?” 
There wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind. Theo felt the words escape him as you grinded against him. He felt dizzy. His cock was so hard that it hurt and he couldn’t even think straight. You hummed, brushing a finger over his balls before cupping them in your hand. 
“Use your words, pretty boy.” Theo blinked back, unable to speak. You grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing him back into focus. “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.” 
Theo whimpered before nodding weakly. “Use me, dolcezza. I’m yours.” 
You smirked in satisfaction. Theo groaned as you rubbed your pussy against his cock. When his shaft brushed against your clit, his eyes rolled back so hard that he was convinced he could see the vacantness of his empty mind. You rode him hard and fast, using his body to get you off. The depravity of it turned him on even more. The blood rushed out of his head at the dominance you exhibited. You were utterly selfish, taking what you wanted when you wanted it, and he was so fucking aroused at how cruel his girl could be. 
You raked your nails over his chest as you balanced, teasing him with your wet folds without letting him feel you. Theo bit his lip so hard that the action drew blood. You licked away the crimson droplets and he sighed against your mouth as you gave him relief, sloppily kissing him while you moaned his name. He could tell you were getting close by the way you convulsed above him and he cursed as your pussy squelched against his cock. 
Theo was in awe as you cried out, cumming while you screamed his name. You slowed the roll of your hips as you lost yourself over to the orgasm, denying him of his own again. Your juices trickled down your thighs and pooled against his stomach. At that point, his cock was so sensitive that it throbbed painfully. Theo was in shambles, his wrists raw and red from tugging so hard. 
“Please, please, baby. Let me fuck you. I need it. I need you. I’ll die if I’m not inside you.” 
You chuckled, brushing the salty tears pooling underneath his pretty eyes. “Pathetic. Are you begging for me, pretty boy? So desperate to fill me up, to feel my pussy hug around your cock while you pump your cum inside of me, hm?” 
“It hurts so bad,” Theo whined. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want. I’ll get on my knees and beg. Please, principessa.” 
“Look at you crying for me,” you cooed, caressing his cheek. “Poor Teddy. You’ve been so good. Let me take care of you now.” You soothed him with praises as you untied his arms. 
You kissed his wrists as Theo sighed in relief. “Do you want to touch me, baby?” 
Theo nodded shyly, which made you smile. His large, rough hands carefully gripped your hips. He looked to you for approval, making sure to check with you for every little thing. You only nodded, dragging his hands up to rest on your breasts. He busied himself with your bra strap, breathing raggedly as he freed your tits from the fabric. 
“Can I touch them, please?” Theo asked earnestly. 
“Is that all you want?” 
“No,” he answered honestly. “I want to kiss them. I want to suck them.” His gaze flickered to your amused expression. “Please, baby.” 
“Go ahead. You earned it, pretty boy.” 
Theo wasted no time, kneading your tits while kissing down your cleavage. He gasped in surprise when you sank down onto him, nearly sobbing in relief when he felt your pussy hug around his cock. His shaky little breaths seeped into your skin as you took inch after inch, making yourself comfortable on his lap as he sheathed himself inside of you. Theo whined when you lifted your hips until only his remained inside of you. 
“Don’t whine, Theo. Be thankful that I’m fucking you instead of punishing you.” 
He rested his head on the crook of your neck, attempting to ground himself. “Thank you, baby. I’m grateful. I don’t deserve it, but you’re so good to me.” 
With a proud smile, you slammed down to take all of him again. Theo was rendered speechless and his mouth fell open as you bounced on his cock. Desperately, he scrambled to catch your perky breasts into his mouth. Your boyfriend sucked on your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples. You moaned as he nipped at you, tensing when you yanked him by his hair. 
Theo stared at you, waiting for direction. Knowing that you had this much control over him made you clench. In your relationship, Theo tended to take on the dominant role, but now that you knew that your boyfriend was more than open to being submissive, you were ready to explore this new dynamic.
“I like this side of you,” you murmured, kissing down his jaw and neck. His breath hitched as you slowly rolled your hips. “So obedient. So willing. So submissive.” A shiver shuddered through him as you wrapped your fingers around his neck. “Tell me who you belong to, Theo.” 
“You, baby,” he rasped. “Only you.” 
“Show me,” you commanded as you squeezed his throat. It was enough to make Theo feel dizzy, momentarily cutting off his oxygen. “Fuck me like you mean it.” 
The desire to please you overwhelmed him. All thoughts of his own pleasure faded. It was secondary to the need to hear you praise him, to validate him, to call him your good boy. He hooked his arm around your waist, shifting his hips to fuck into you at a deeper angle. You moaned above him as your bodies melded together. Sweat, sin, and sex permeated the air while he worshiped at your altar. 
Theo watched his cock disappear between your folds, his gaze flickering from your pussy to your face, eager to know if his actions pleased you. You brushed his hair back, gentle and loving, while you talked him through it. 
“That’s it, Teddy. Fill me up.” Theo thrusted as you bounced, groaning as he hit the sweet spot that made your body sing. “Just like that. Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good, baby.” 
Your forehead dropped to his, rewarding him with sweet little kisses every time he hit the spongy spot that had you seeing stars. He relished in your compliments, felt himself craving it like a drug. When your pussy clenched around him to signal your release, Theo continued to fuck you through the orgasm. There was a reverent glimmer in his eyes like he was witnessing something holy when you came. 
Theo could feel his own release nearing, but he knew better than to cum without asking. It was abundantly clear to him that you were in control tonight. “Can I cum? Please, principessa?” 
“Of course you can,” you replied with a blissed out smile. “Good boys get to cum.” 
He held his breath, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. “I’ve been a good boy?” 
“Mhm,” you murmured, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “The best boy.” Even though you were sensitive and overstimulated, you made sure to reward his good behavior. Picking up the pace, sliding easily up and down his cock thanks to your wetness, you whispered the words that you knew would push Theo over the edge. “Now be a good boy and cum inside of me, baby.” 
Theo cried out with a shout, shuddering underneath you as he shot hot ribbons deep inside your pussy. You could feel his cum filling you up, warm and wet as it trickled out. He panted against your neck as his cock twitched inside of you, releasing his load with each pump. As he emptied himself out, Theo slowed, his body collapsing from the intensity of the orgasm. 
When he regained consciousness, he was flat on his back. Theo blinked away the white spots in his vision. It felt like his soul had left his body entirely. He had cum so hard he passed out. As he rejoined the physical realm, Theo opened his eyes to find you cleaning him up. You were so sweet and gentle, the complete opposite of the selfish lover you’d been just a few moments ago. It warmed his heart to know that you’d always take care of him no matter what. 
Theo smiled as you kissed his forehead. A small whimper escaped his mouth as you pulled his boxers over his legs, his cock still sensitive from the intense sex. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, soothing him as you brushed your fingers through his hair. Theo cuddled against your side and sighed happily. 
“Holy fuck,” he whispered. 
You giggled, pressing soft kisses all over his face. “Did you like that?” You asked, teasing your boyfriend. “It seems like you did.” 
He hummed against your skin, brushing his lips against your neck. “Fuck, I think you just unlocked a new kink for me.” You chuckled at his words. “That was so fucking hot, baby.” 
“You know, I was trying to teach you a lesson,” you mused. “I didn’t quite expect you to enjoy getting degraded this much.” 
“Degrade me whenever you want, dolcezza.” 
"Really?" you hummed, musing on his willingness. "How far would you let me go? If I broke out a leash and collar, would you have stopped me?"
You were half-joking, but the eager expression on your boyfriend's face told you that he was more than willing to make your suggestion into a reality.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, cara mia." Theo wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. "I'd crawl to you on my hands and knees if you asked. If you're the one asking, there's nothing I wouldn't do."
The power definitely gave you a head rush. As much as you relished in the hold you had over him, you tucked the knowledge away for later. There was plenty of opportunity to act out all your dirtiest, filthiest fantasies, but for now, you were more than content to snuggle with the love of your life.
You smirked, nipping at his jaw. “That’s my good boy.” 
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chqnified · 1 year
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Actually what the fuck. Honestly fuck off.
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dxckgrxsonx · 2 years
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hello, random Jason thot i feel like i need to share:
he is the type to ask for sexual related stuff very casually in the most unexpected moments — “hey do you have a second for me to bend you over and use your holes?” “c’mere so i can hit you from the back real quick” “babe, do you like how my cum tastes?” “you mind if i fuck you in your sleep tonight?” “you want me to go raw next time we do doggie?” while you are making toast in the middle of the day or doing the dishes like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
that's it, that's my thot. thanks.
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 1.2k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Porn no Plot - Unprotected Sex -Shower Sex - Kitchen Sex - Dirty Talk - Jason 'no verbal filter' Todd - Swearing - Fluff. Notes - i think you should share more thots with me 😉 i will listen to whatever you have to say. also, the idea of Jason fucking you in your sleep???? hOT. I’ll be writing that at some point.
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**
He asks you questions at the most random times.
You think his brain doesn’t have an off switch. Thoughts constantly whirling around on a washing machine spin cycle. Each one thunking against the sides until he tugs open the door and spits out the first thing to fall at his feet.
Last week, he asked you through a mouthful of food what word you would use to describe The Red Hood.
Apparently, ‘hot’, was entirely the correct answer and he’d spent the rest of the meal insufferably pleased with himself until you’d laughed and kicked him under the table.
The week before that, he woke you up in the middle of the night and asked you, half asleep, if you would still love him if he was a worm. In response, you’d rolled over to hug him close and mumbled, “Mmm-hm. I’d love you no matter what.”
And when you woke up that next morning, it was with Jason smudging kisses across your chest. Right over your heart. You didn’t recall the conversation but he did and it must have meant something to him because he didn’t leave your side for hours.
But this time, he pokes his head out of the shower whilst you’re brushing your teeth and casually asks, “You mind joining me in here? It’s been a while since we’ve had shower sex and i’m real fuckin’ hard.”
Surprise sparks like a blown electric fuse and your toothbrush clatters into the sink whilst you choke on a mouthful of toothpaste, “Jason!” You sputter, staring at him through the mirror and feeling heat scathe up your neck. “What the hell?”
Grabbing your arm, he says nothing and tugs you into the shower cubicle, places you directly under the almost scalding spray of water and cracks a smile when you swat at his chest. Instantly, your pyjamas turn see through and Jason whistles appreciatively, mouth hooking up in a devilish smirk.
“Now there’s a pretty sight.” He says, giving you a heated once over.
Your nipples poke against your shirt and Jason wastes no time in rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks until you sigh softly. He dips his fingers under the hem of your pyjama top and smooths his warm palms up over your breasts to remove it.
Shuffling you backwards until you press against the cold tile wall you hiss through your teeth, “You’re a bastard, Todd.”
Ducking his head to kiss and bite at your neck Jason chuckles, voice lowering to a challenging drawl, “Call me Todd again, sweetheart. I dare you.”
Dragging your open palm over his cock you turn your head and kiss him slowly, deeply. You lick into Jason’s mouth and feel him throb in your hand. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip you tug until he growls.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Todd. Did that hurt?”
Jason grabs at your thighs, yanks your shorts down your legs with the efficiency of someone not leaking precum all over your fingers. Slotting his hands under your thighs he picks you up, forces your legs around his thick waist. His cock presses hot and heavy against your pussy and you feel yourself drool over the fat, flushed head.
“You’re really in for it now, baby.” He says, eyes alight. “You thought I was a bastard before. Things are about to get a hell of a lot worse for you now.”
You smile, thoroughly amused, “Promises. Promises.”
**
Slotting two slices of bread into the toaster you reach for your phone sitting on the kitchen counter.
Jason approaches you silently and you wonder, not for the first time, how someone with so much mass can move so quietly. You don’t catch his presence until he’s within arms reach and you think that if you were a criminal, you’d be as good as unconscious.
Slipping his arms around your waist he nuzzles into your back, moves to rest his chin on your shoulder, “Whatcha watchin’?”
Turning the screen so he can see the video, you feel him laugh when you say, “Cat fail videos.”
Reaching silently for your phone he locks the screen and places it facedown on the counter. Turning in the strong cage of his arms you walk your fingers over his chest and up to his shoulders. Humming quietly in the back of your throat you sweep a flyaway strand of hair from his eyes.
“Can I help you?” You ask.
“Do you have a second for me to bend you over the kitchen counter? Wanna fill you up.”
“Wow.” You snigger, half amused, half aroused. “You’re not one for subtlety, huh?”
Spinning you around, Jason presses your hips into the counter and quickly unbuttons your jeans to slide them down to your ankles with your underwear. He shuffles around behind you and you hear him drag the zipper down on his pants.
“Jus’ like the thought of you dripping with my come.” He answers, and you feel your clit swell. A touch of his Gotham accent colours his words. “You’re not going to deny me that, are you?”
Kicking one foot free of your jeans you hook your knee over the lip of the counter, spread your puffy pussy open for Jason to see how wet you are. Your arousal leaks from your entrance and Jason drags his fingers through the wetness before wiping it over the head of his cock.
“If I end up burning my toast I’m not going to be happy.” You say.
Pressing the fat head of his cock to your clenching hole Jason pushes forwards, groans deeply when your walls yield around him and squeeze at his thick girth. Bracing one hand on your waist, Jason rocks his hips, stuffs himself into your pussy inch by inch until he bottoms out.
“You were made for taking my cock, sweetheart.” Jason moans, snapping his hips up. Hooking his thumbs under the swell of your ass he spreads you open so he can watch his cock sink into you. “Fuckin’ Christ, can feel you squeezin’ at me, baby. S’almost like I didn’t fuck you yesterday.”
Whimpering out his name you try to reach for the toaster, worried that it’s going to burn.
“I don’t give a fuck about your toast.” Jason growls, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back. “I’ll make you breakfast myself when I’m finished.”
**
Sat on the sofa you tug your fingers through Jason’s hair.
His head rests in your lap, legs thrown over the arm of your sofa so you can both fit somewhat comfortably. The TV drones in the background, a movie playing that you’ve quickly lost interest in. You’ve found that your attention settles on Jason, on the stubborn knots in his hair and the warmth of him resting on your thighs.
“Comfy?” You ask, just to make sure.
Humming softly he glances up at you, and when your eyes meet he smiles, “You’re beautiful.”
Emotion drags itself up your throat and you stroke his cheek tenderly, lovingly. You open your mouth to speak but there’s a lump in your throat and you quickly realise that you don’t even know what to say. Vaguely, you recognise that Jason hasn’t taken his eyes off you.
Opening your mouth to try again Jason beats you to it, “I know, baby. Y’don’t have to say it. I know.”
Rubbing the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip, Jason presses a soft kiss there.
“Hey, you mind if I fuck you in your sleep tonight?”
Flicking his forehead you snigger, “Do you not have a verbal filter?”
Giving you an unimpressed look, his eyes glitter, “What do you think?”
**
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