#this whole article about tongues

[the-busy-ghost]

Keep thinking I ought to buy more books about Welsh history and then realise that it might be difficult to locate what I want if I have half a shelf of books, 90% of which are written by authors whose surnames are Williams, Davies, Jones, Jenkins, Evans, e.t.c.

[xxsabitoxx]

How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise. 

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him. 

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into  that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you. 

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to. 

[greaseonmymouth]

I saw this shared around on Threads (why do I go there, I hate it) and commented on as 'this article is so good' and 'must read' including by a few people whose opinion I normally respect, and seeing as monsterfucking and monster everything is like a special little interest for me, I of course instantly clicked through to read it

and I have to say

what the everloving heterosexual fuck is this

two fat paragraphs about omegaverse that don't even mention its origins - I mean - I just - gaze upon this phrase, and despair:

During estrous, Omegas’ vaginas ooze with “slick,” responding to the Alpha’s intoxicating pheromonal perfume.

IT'S CALLED "SLICK" BECAUSE IT'S FROM SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES. THE REASON THE OMEGAS NEED SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES TO BEGIN WITH IS BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE VAGINAS.

I. have been rendered figuratively speechless. the straights don't know what slick is. the. i. how. how did we end up like this

their dicks swell at the base, creating a “knot,” which lodges them inextricably in the Omega’s slick-soaked (I am so sorry) vagina.

"(I am so sorry)" girl you're writing an article about monster smut and then you have the gall to be embarrassed by the this tame ass (or should i say vagina?) heterosexual omegaverse?

okay, okay. deep breaths. we've only just got started. we started by covering Morning Glory Milking Farm, a minotaur/human erotic romance novel, which well - I've read it, and it's not a bad book by any means, it was actually very very good, a solid story with a great cast and perfectly paced and satisfying romance and loads of sex - is very straight. it's just a minotaur. it's a big guy with a big dick. it's your standard gentle giant/normal sized girl romance. it's not very freaky, but you know, I don't blame the average reader for coming into this thinking this is some out there stuff. gotta start somewhere, right? we didn't all come up through draco/the giant squid crackfic in 2005, you know? and now we've covered Sarah J Maas and we're entering omegaverse territory, this is getting knottier now, right, freakier? this article is going somewhere, right?

you can imagine the intrigue, enemies-to-lovers, and other story lines involved as each captured female eventually finds the member of the barbarian tribe who is destined to worship and fuck the living daylights out of her for the rest of their lives. Oh, and their dicks have a sensitive spur on top designed for clitoral stimulation. It’s just as blue and velvety as the rest of their big alien bodies.

okay so the minotaurs aliens are blue now, i guess.

It seems, also, like the romance genre as a whole is being pushed by monster romance to make things in human-human books as freaky as possible.

ohh?? are we finally getting a proper freak on now??

This genre, “why choose?” or “MMF” (or sometimes even MMMF or MMFM), and also known as “reverse harem,” always features a heroine who is showered with sexual attention by men who are also sexually involved with each other.

having a thousand yard stare moment over here

this author seriously thinks that all these heterofied monster romance tropes are paving the way for the real freaky stuff that is, checks notes, "two hockey players fucking each other while the heroine calls the shots"

this author is positing that human queer erotica/romance are freakier than monster erotica/romance. like. she said that. with her whole chest. black on white.

on one hand a monster, an inhuman being, and on the other, a queer person, a human being. and apparently the real freak is not the minotaur or the blue alien. it is the queer human.

is this satire? it has to be, right?

because if it's not satire, this article is an entire case study in itself on the monstering* of queer people. stunning.

*academic term

[gremlingottoosilly]

thinking about konig asking to eat you out and you being like “lol no i’m on my period.” and he’s all “ohhhh idc idc i wanna eat it so bad 🥺” and you need to be like no. buddy. you clearly do not get it. i am not a 2-3 day period, “who needs pads i’ll just freebleed” girlie. i am a 7-8 day, heavy flow, bleed through the pad girlie, lmfao.

and then he eats it anyways because not only has he been around so much more blood than you could ever imagine but also he’s lowkey highkey into it teeeheeeeeeee ;P

"Schatzen, I kill people for money. You really think I'm scared of a little blood?" You wasn't nervous of the fact he wasn't scared of a bit of blood - even though it was not, in fact, just a little. Even though it was, in fact, a lot and made you ask him to bring you newer pads. You didn't really think he would be scared of a bit of period blood - but you were fucking terrified at the fact that he seemed to adore it. To cherish every drop, till the last one - to press his face between your thighs and look at you like a kitten who wants a bit of cream. The thing is, Konig missed you. Returning from a two month contract only meant he was ready to destroy your pelvis and fuck you for every hour he is on leave - unfortunately, he can't quite do that, you're too fragile to take his cock four times per day...but you can take his tongue. Even if that means having the metallic taste cling to his tongue for days on end, he would gladly spend the whole week buried in your cunt, relishing in your taste. It's a nice way to deal with cramps, he might think. Konig literally read one article about how orgasms can sometimes help some people with their cramps, and he'd use this for the rest of his life. Oh, your stomach is hurting and you feel like your womb is trying to eat you from the inside? Just let him eat you out! No matter how many times you push him away and beg for him to stop, he'd still laugh and push his tongue deeper, over and over. He is a mercenary, he is getting paid tons of money to cover himself in blood of his victims - having his pretty girlfriend cry and cum on his tongue is a nice addition. You don't even question it when he starts to track your periods, knowing you'd have it even when you forget - you don't question the dates he literally keeps posted on your shared calendar, don't care that the amount of heating pads in the house had largely diminished - and he won't buy you a new one because he is much better at being a heating pad anyway!

[dcxdpdabbles]

Are you going to make another part for the Angel and Demon Brat? If you do, please have them fumbling and Damian + Danny taking full advantage. Also, could you do something about Cujo please? I don’t think Danny would move without him

Danny will admit that he is having a little too much fun with his birth father's family. But could one blame him? They made it all too easy. Also, he was starting to see why Damian had been a bit hesitant to tell them about him.

It was not that they threatened him in any way, but he could see how hard it was for them to have a normal relationship with anyone. Just his small forms of affection made a lot of the Waynes' skin crawl.

They still gave in regardless. Danny worries it's the most hugs any of them have gotten in years. It couldn't be mentally healthy. Or could it? Some people didn't like to be touched, and that was fair.

He did have to play a careful balance.

He knew that if the League of Assians found out about Damian caring for him, Danny would go from being a Lost sibling to a Dead sibling. The Waynes on the other hand were under the impression that denying him anything would cause Time to erease him- not that Clockwork would dare. Who would try his spicy salsas then?- so they were much more careful in how they handled him.

Tim was his favorite. Danny could tell the other boy really liked being acknowledged, and unlike Dick, who thrived on being the center of attention, Tim struggled to let people know.

So Danny had small ways to give him what he desperately craved and had a little fun with it.

He carefully knocks on the boy's door room, clutching his pillow and blanket. There was a small pause where he could hear Tim scruffling around, likely trying to hide the coffee maker under his bed. Danny didn't have the heart to tell him the whole mansion but Alfred and Bruce knew about his bedroom coffee maker.

Maybe he should hint about it tomorrow at breakfast? Watch Tim sweat?

He shifts his face into an innocent expression when Tim opens the door. The other squints at him, likely catching his more mischievous expression but unwilling - or unable- to call him out on it.

"Angel Brat?" Tim says weary. The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily that one would think Tim has always called him that. Danny applauds his acting ability.

"Hi, Tim! I'm here for our bi-weekly ritual," he chirps, pushing the confused teen aside to step in. He gently rolls his heart pump behind him, mindful of the wires. It's on top of his gas tank, which he chose to wear so he could breathe some clear ectoplasm.

Gotham's ectoplasm was polluted with negative emotions, and it was giving him a headache.

None of the machines was actually doing anything—his heart rate will never be regulated due to his powers—but it was the perfect excuse for why Danny wasn't seen that often in public.

Barbara had gone back into Gotham gossip rags, publishing fake articles and small rumors on the internet that dated to the first day Damian arrived. This gave him some proof of existing before, but with the "timeline reset," it would make sense why no one could recall Danny.

As far as the Gotham citizens were concerned, Danny was an unproven rumor at best. People were asking about him but weren't daring enough to demand who Danny was.

Barbara was the best like that, and Danny should convince Damian to give her and her dad an even longer, all-expenses-paid vacation. She deserved it.

"Our bi-weekly ritual. Of course. Must have have slipped my mind." Tim carefully articulates. His words are clipped enough Danny can tell he's confused. Danny beams at him nonetheless, sitting on the ground carefully after he finishes adding his pillow and blanket to Tim's bed.

He leans his back against Tim's beg, crosses his legs underneath him, and takes a deep breath of ectoplasm.

Tim pauses for only a moment before walking over and sitting cross-leg in front of Danny. The younger boy pays him no mind while fumbling with the bag he brought along.

Danny began pulling out all his needed supplies. Five candles- each with a different color flame are left in a small circle. Five bottles sealed with wax and labeled with different named potions are carefully added to the center of the circle- he makes sure that the glitter liquid inside does not shake too much less the small surprise is noticed.

Then he pulls out a large book, with the image of a screaming skull on the cover. It's large enough that he has to set it on the ground, a thump produced from the weight.

He then carefully claps his hands four times, switching Tim's lights off so the only glow is the green, blue, pink, purple, and yellow light of the candle.

Tim looks a bit distressed. likely thinking Danny was about to start practicing the Black Magic or something. It's hard to keep a straight face as he fights off a giggle at the expression being aimed his way while he flips through the pages.

Tim carefully taps his hand against a bracelet on his wrist, which connects to the Bat's communication lines. The rest of the Bats are probably thinking that Tim is in danger even though he was supposed to be on rest duty and have tuned into the conversation. Danny isn't supposed to know that, though, since he is not "healthy" enough to be a vigilante, so he ignores it.

"Alright, should I start or you?" Danny asks when he lands on the page he was looking for. It's in Latin, which he knows Tim can read but that doesn't stop it from being creepy.

"You can start first."

"Really? You never let me go first in the bi-weekly ritual!" Danny cheers, leaning down to the page. From the corner of his eye, he can see the distress blooming more on Tim's face.

"I'm feeling...generous. I think you're old enough to start our bi-weekly ritual that requires colorful candles, a large black skull book in Latin, and five colored potions." Tim says obviously repeating the materials to the eavesdropping Bats.

"Thanks, Tim! Okay, here we go." Danny holds out his hand above the book muttering in Latin.

"Oh great, Clockwork, master of time, head my call and tell me the answer to my inquiry." Danny quickly switches to English as he grabs the potion in pink glitter. Giving it a good shake, he continues. "Does Kon-El think Tim is cute?"

The glitter shifts until a dice appears with the words- More likely than you think is visible. Danny squeals showing Tim, "Omg Tim, you have a chance!"

Tim's face falters and then turns an alarming shade of red. "What?!"

"Wait the following questions!" Danny reaches for the remaining bottles, making sure to go in the color order of the candles. Will Kon ask Tim to marry him? Yes! Where will they live? A mansion. How many kids will they have? fifteen! What will Tim's future job be? A photographer!"

Danny flips the page over to a table of data, squabbling down the answers. "Okay, you're going to get married to Kon, live in a mansion, have fifteen kids, and be a photographer. This is the third time in a row that Kon has married you. I think Clockwork is on your side for this one, Tim. It's my turn!"

Danny pretended he couldn't hear Jason laughing his ass off in Tim's earpiece or Dick's voice cry out. "No fair! I want to play spooky MASH on a bi-weekly basis."

Tim is beet red, fumbling with his hands. "Who-i-what-?"

Danny frowns. "Are you okay Tim? Should we skip Bi-boys night?"

"Bi-boy night?!" Tim squeaks.

"Yeah! I thought I would give our hang-out night a nickname, and since we mostly end up talking about cute girls and boys, I thought we could name it bi-boy night. You know since you're the only one in the family that's bi like me? I know no one will want to date me. I'm too sick...but it's nice to have a brother who gets crushes."" Danny hunches his shoulders a little ignoring the way Tim's eyes widen a bit with affection. He's touched that Danny came to him for this. Fool. "We can skip my turn. It's not like I'll have someone anyway."

Jason has stopped laughing, and Steph softly whispers. "That's so cute and sad. Who's been hurting our baby?"

Tim swallows. "No. We are not skipping your turn. We are going to play this game because anyone would be tripping over themselves for you."

"Really?" Danny smiles hopefully at Tim. Tim nods firmly, then narrows his eyes.

"No dating until you are sixteen."

"I know." Danny rolls his eyes "You've said that before."

"Good."

"But I can still have crushes right? Because I have one on Jon."

"Jon Kent?" Tim asks at the same time Bruce growls the name.

"You won't tell Dad will you?" Danny asks after nodding and blushing. Damian told him yesterday that Jon pissed him off, and with the power to heat up his ectoplasm just behind his checks, causing them to flush, he thinks he just found a good way to make the super regret upsetting his brother.

Nothing like an overprotective Bat clan to dish out vengence.

"No," Tim says, grinding his teeth. "No, I won't tell. But since I already got married to Kon maybe we can try someone else."

Danny's eyes sparkle with barely concealed glee. "Okay, let's use my second crush! He's super cooler anyway"

"Of course, what's his name?" Tim asks picking up the pink bottle.

"Your friend Bernard," Danny says, knowing Danm well, Tim had an undiscovered crush on the guy. He watches with glee as Tim chocks on his spit.

"What?!"

"Yeah, he's got muscular arms, and he can cook," Danny sighs dreamily. "Damian thinks he's hot too."

"No." Tim gasps.

"I do," Damian says over the cons to the collective shock of everyone. "Dowd has a fine physique. He's also great with animals. I approve of Daniel's involvement with him."

Danny's lower lip wobbles. "No? I can't play the game?"

Tim takes one look at him before caving. "Does Bernard Dowd think Danny is cute......it says no."

"Oh. If Clockwork doesn't think so, then I guess it's not meant to be," Danny sighs.

"Who is Clockwork?" Tim asks, placing the potion down.

Danny blinks. "You don't remember Clockwork? Lately, everyone has been forgetting important things around here. Is something wrong?"

Danny allows his body to flicker a bit with his powers, acting as if he didn't notice as Tim grows alarmed.

"I'm joking! It's a joke! Of course, I know Clockwork! Ha ha ha! Why don't we do the next thing on our Bi-Boy Night!? Want to watch a movie?!" Tim practically leaps out of his seat racing to TV. "What are you in the mood for? Comedy or horror?"

"A musical!"

"A musical!?"

However, Damian has to stop on a roof to laugh into the concrete as he listens to Drake- an active hater of musicals- try to sing along to something called High School Musical and act like he loves it as Danny sings with him. He can hear Drake's blood pressure rise with every new line

[saotoru]

puppy love

ʚ puppyboy!leon kennedy x reader

ʚ word count: 2.1k

ʚ content warnings: fem reader. hybrids. no plot. scent kink. heavy dumbification. breeding kink. ruts. panty stealing + sniffing. implied 'virgin' leon. slight degradation (leon is called bad dog). reader wears a skirt. overstim. marking. praise kink. oral (f). crotch sniffing. masturbation (m). cum fucking. mentions of pregnancy. leon speaks in broken sentences.

minors do not interact

the last thing you expected to own was a puppyboy.

it was by pure coincidence that you had stumbled on him. he was a sad sight: huddled and shivering behind the dumpster in the alley next to your apartment. yeah, you didn’t want to own a pet, but could you really leave a stray out in the cold like that? so you took him in—‘leon,’ the name on his collar read—bathed, fed him, and gave him a place to sleep.

you showed him a kindness he's never experienced before; cold rain and hard surfaces are all he’s known his whole life, but you’re different. you’re warm and soft and sweet—everything he imagined the perfect owner to be.

so it’s no surprise how quickly he grew to love you. a lot.

but sometimes, he wishes he wasn’t so obsessed with you.

because it'll be hours before you're home again, away at something called 'work,' before he can hug and lick and kiss you. the thought of waiting that long makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

leon lets out a sad whine for only the empty apartment to hear. he misses you.

some comfort is all he needs right now. he pads over to your room, where your scent is the strongest, and climbs on the bed to bury himself into your pillow. the smell of your shampoo fills his nose as he sniffs all over the fabric before digging his face in it, trying to drown in your scent and pretend it's you. for a moment, it works. he imagines burying his face in your tits like this, imagines you scratching behind his ears and calling him a good boy in that sweet voice of yours. his tail wags at the thought.

but... it's not enough. he grows restless—the pillow isn't warm. it doesn't pet his hair or kiss his forehead or tell him he's a good boy. it's not you.

another frustrated whine. he sits up, tail thumping on the bed, unsure of what to do. he needs more. something that will satiate him for the next few long hours without you. nose hiked in the air, he sniffs around the room before catching a whiff of your scent coming from your closet. and then he sees it: your laundry hamper.

he feels no shame rifling through the dirty clothes nose-first. there's nothing wrong with missing you, with wanting to be comforted, right? it’s innocent enough—him sniffing out whatever article of clothing it is that smells the most like you and pulling it out with his teeth:

a pair of panties.

he carefully tucks them in his mouth and goes back over to your bed, settling down on your side again. he sniffs at it and something stirs in his tummy, but he’s not quite sure what it is. the fabric is thick with that sweet, heady scent, unmistakably yours. this is just what he needed. it smells so good, exactly like you and that spot between your legs.

leon takes another inhale and lets out a low whine, that feeling in his tummy stirring again, but stronger this time. it’s an unfamiliar ache. a dull heat that pools between his legs and leaves him dizzy the further he digs his face into your underwear. he’s not entirely sure why he lolls out his tongue and licks at the fabric, but the taste of you only makes the ache burn hotter. it triggers something; a throb so strong that it nearly makes him yelp.

he looks down at his body, to where it's hot and aching the most—his cock. fully erect, stiff and drooling against his abdomen, tip flushed a bright red. he whimpers sadly at the sight. it’s starting to border on painful but he's not sure what to do about it. he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think about you.

with an experimental roll of his hips, leon lets his cock brush onto the mattress. he’s completely unprepared for the rush of pleasure it brings, making his body grow taut, back arched and tail stiffening. a shiver runs through him. it feels… good. he does it again, harder, this time letting out an unabashedly loud moan.

soon he's rutting himself on the bed while he slobbers and drools all over your panties. all he can think about is licking you like this, laving his tongue in that spot between your legs. the thought sends another hot pulse straight to his cock and him into a frenzy, hips are a blur as he licks at the crotch of the fabric, moaning over and over and over. he can’t stop. he's so far gone, lost in this new addictive pleasure that he doesn't even hear the click of the front door opening.

you frown. normally leon's greeting you with licks and hugs the moment you step foot through the front door, but your pup is nowhere to be seen today.

the apartment is small, and all it takes is a quick glance for you to see he's not in the living or dining room. the bedroom is the last place to check—and that's where you find your puppyboy sprawled on the bed face-first in a pair of your panties, letting out high-pitched cries as he humps the mattress fervently, too busy chasing his high to notice you're even here.

the sudden touch of your hand to his hair breaks him out of his trance. his dumb pup brain is so muddled with lust it takes him a few seconds to realize it’s you—you’re here, real, stroking his ears and smiling at him, and it's not just his imagination. immediately he pounces on you, wrapping you in a tight hug that knocks you back onto the bed.

his tail wags furiously as he smushes his face into you. "missed you. p-please, need you," he mumbles.

he's never felt this way before. feverish, sensitive to the point that he's uncomfortable in his own skin. consumed by some sort of need, an insatiable heat that gnaws at his chest and threatens to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something about it.

your touch comforts him briefly—the kiss to his sweaty forehead and your hands on his back allow him to relax a little. "my poor baby. puppy just wanted to taste me, hm?" you ask, looking over to your now chewed-up panties crumpled on the far side of the bed.

a low whimper is all he can respond with. part of him feels ashamed for what he did, for accidentally ruining some of your clothing. and maybe if his brain wasn't so dizzy with need right now he'd think about the consequences of his actions and apologize. but instead what comes out is, "please... c-can i?"

your voice is sweet but your words are not. "i dunno, leon. you're a bad dog, ruining my underwear like that."

you practically watch his heart break in those wide, innocent eyes of his. "n-no, please, 'm a good boy, 'm your good boy..." he cries, clutching you tighter. a bad dog? the reprimand hurts worse than any other punishment possibly could.

"then why don't you prove it, baby?" you spread your thighs apart and that's all the direction leon needs.

he wastes no time shoving his face beneath your skirt and bringing himself face-to-face with your still-clothed cunt and inhaling. your pillow, your panties—neither of them even compare to the source, or give him the same rush of pleasure that dragging his tongue up your labia does. he curls your panties to the side with a finger, giving him enough access so that he can slurp at your slick just like he imagined earlier.

he's so eager, so starved of your taste and approval and love that he grows pussydrunk too quickly, practically making more sounds than you, whining and moaning as he all but devours you whole, laving his tongue anywhere he can reach and pressing his face as far in as poassible. that heated ache from between his legs is even worse than before, when he licked at your panties like this, and if he let himself grind his puppycock on the bed right now he'd cum immediately, but he ignores it.

because all he can think about are your words earlier—bad dog. nonono, that's not him; he wants to hear you praise him, hear you moan his name all pretty and tell him he's doing a good job. so he pays attention to your every reaction instead, how you twitch and hum when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive spot on the top. he focuses there, puppylicking your swollen clit over and over and over, even when your thighs clamp tightly his head and threaten to squeeze him away he still doesn't stop, slobbering and sucking at your pussy til you're creaming all over his lips with a sob of his name, because he's desperate to be your good boy again.

that gives him the reaction he wants—the sounds you make are so pretty, his ears perked up to your every breathy moan as you buck your hips into his face and ride out your high, leon licking up every bit of cum that drips down your perineum.

when you squirm from the sensitivity and shove his face away, leon moves back up your body. he rests his chin on your chest and looks up at you with puppydog eyes, his tail wagging in slow, broad strokes. "did i do good?"

it takes you several seconds to reply. you lay there, ruffling his hair and ears mindlessly, still reeling from your orgasm. "y-yeah, puppy did such a good job. good boy, leon."

finally.

he's so happy he can't help but crash his mouth onto yours and kiss you. it's sloppy, a mess of teeth and tongue, but you find yourself meeting him with equal desperation. you let him lick into your mouth, tongue heavy with the taste of yourself as it slips against your own in a heated kiss. that's all he wanted to hear and he's so excited right now he could die.

and his heart nearly stops when you wrap your legs around his hips and murmur, "please, leon." the need in your tone makes his head buzz with adoration. his tip bumps against your labia clumsily and leon lets out a noise from the back of his throat. he's so pent up, basically edging himself all day and leaving his cock swollen and aching so hard that he could probably cum untouched right now.

and the moment he pushes inside you, he does.

he didn't mean to. but you're so wet, soaked from your orgasm and spit and now his spurts of thick cum, that it's impossible for his eyes not to roll to the back of his head. his entire body trembles from the overstimulation but he pushes further and further in, cock still stiff even after cumming, splitting you open until he's buried balls deep and his pelvis rests against yours. the drag of him in and out of you is loud, he's so loud, whining with every slow thrust that fucks his cum deep inside you, the squelch of your creamy pussy milking his cock and making him lose his fucking mind.

it’s not long before he’s fucking you with that same horny puppy pace that he fucked the mattress with earlier, only you feel so much better. better than he could ever imagine—hot and wet and addicting. he can't slow down, thrusts so so sloppy while he fucks himself dumb in your perfect cunt, tongue lolling out and eyes going crossed, poor puppy brain so overstimulated it's all he can do to not cum a second time right now.

"i wan' it," he slurs. it feels like words are impossible to form, his tongue too heavy and thick for his mouth right now. "wanna cum again, inside you."

"yeah? puppy wants to breed me?" you hum.

breed. that word sets him off.

pure instinct. that's what he's driven by as he humps you even faster, rutting his puppycock inside you so desperately, needing nothing more than to knock you up and make you his. "yesyesyes please," he begs. "wanna breed you, wanna litter of pups. please-"

his babbling is cut short by his own choked gasp as your legs wrap around his hips and lock him there, forcing him deep inside and unable to pull out.

"cum for me, leon."

and he's gone, cumming hot, thick ropes, filling you with nothing but him, claiming, marking you in the most primal way possible.

you're his, and no one else's.

---

ʚ author's note: if you read this far thank you! this is my first full fic on here. feedback is welcome + vv appreciated :3c

[the-californicationist]

The Powder Keg

John Price has just spent the whole afternoon teaching his new recruit how to shoot, and after pining for her all day, he’s about ready to burst, just like a powder keg…

Hot, steaming water sprayed out of the shower head and soaked his burnt, pink skin. When he took in a deep breath, it was humid and heavy, filling his lungs with more moisture than air, leaving him panting and weak from the heat of it. But, he let it suffocate him. He allowed it to obfuscate his senses, to coat his mouth like a gag, to stop him from calling out for her. John Price was so damn close to forgetting himself. He pulled his imaginary muzzle tighter, just in case.

He’d spent the better part of the day in the frigid sands in some Urzikstani Green zone, teaching his new sergeant to shoot his M-16. She was a good marksman, but she was unfamiliar with the desert’s unforgiving winds, and she needed to see how he had set his sights. It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to help her, and if he was before Peter at those gates of pearl and splendor, forced to tell the truth, he had chosen to keep her there. He’d been selfish, preferring to watch her laying there, prone and panting, firing bullet after bullet, all to please her captain. It was the betrayal of the sun that had ruined his gluttony. It had set behind the dunes, forcing John to come indoors and try to wash off all of his sin. 

Price had been hard all day. Seeing her plump arse in those canvas pants, looking down at her, concentrating and vulnerable in the sand… it was enough to drive him wild. Now, here he was, gripping his heavy rod like a teenager, squeezing himself tight enough to see stars. 

The soap and the suds had all washed away, but the billowing steam had remained. He felt each scalding droplet stinging against his sun-ravaged skin, and he used it like a million little flogs, punishing himself for his thoughts of her. She, in the inky blackness of his mind, had been… everywhere. She was stripping for him, peeling away each article of clothing, each layer of her uniform with calculated effort, revealing herself to him bit by bit. He was watching as her fingers dug into the band of her pants, sliding them down her thick thighs, showing off her tattooed skin, uncovering scars like tiny secrets. Secrets only he could know. 

She was grabbing his cock. It was her hand tugging him hard, not his. Her palm slipping over his rosy head, her fingers slipping his foreskin down his shaft, her mouth…

“Unghh…” John leaned against the cold tile, trying to calm himself down. His forehead dug into the white ceramic, rolling across it, trying to find some relief to his torment.

He knew her mouth would feel so sweet. She would plant a delicate little kiss on the top of it, wouldn’t she? She was so kind. She would be so kind to him. An old dog who didn’t deserve it. Not one lick. And yet, she would lick him. Her tongue would lap around his thick base, purring at his size, gassing him up, pumping his ego. Maybe it would be the truth. Either way, he’d buy it; hook, line, and sinker. 

“Baby, baby, baby…” He’d name her. She’d be his. His woman. His everything. She’d steal his breath like this impenetrable steam.

The tip of her tongue would find that ridge, the one tucked under his head, the one just below his hole, and she’d suckle at it, just as if she was pulling venom from a snake bite, like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. 

Maybe she would be willing to sit across his lips, giving herself to him like a feast to a starving man. She would taste like nectar, and it would coat his tongue, sticky and cloying, painting his palate and filling his nose. He would learn her scent, burying himself into it, finding himself within her taste and her warmth. 

Then, mercifully, perhaps she would take him inside of her, deep into her body. He would sink into her, down into her depths. Engulfed. Surrounded. At her mercy. Perhaps she would use those soft muscles to hold him in, to clutch at him like a hungry, suckling mouth. 

His hand tightened around his head and the rhythmic milking noises of his self-made pleasure filled the tiny shower like a perpetual echo. He began to fuck his grip, rutting wildly into his palm, coating his callused skin in precome. He was dripping from the shower, but nothing was slipperier than his wet pleasure. It made his cock slide even faster through his huge hand, helping his head burrow itself into his fingers. 

John wanted it to be real. He dreamt, with his eyes squeezed shut, of the way her legs would part for him, spread like the petals of a flower, soft and pliant like a little, pink rose. As he jerked his hand across his pulsing head, he imagined what it would be like to rub himself amongst her delicate folds. He almost came from the thought, shuddering, catching himself against the wall, whimpering like he was pressing into a bruise. 

A little faster. A little more friction. He grunted, unable to hold his voice inside of him, desperate and feral. 

Her eyes, gleaming and beautiful, looking up at him, calling his name. 

And that was enough to do it. He came, crying out for her…

“Oh, fuck… baby…” 

“Captain?”

His blood went cold, and when he heard her voice, he froze, letting his come leak out of his balls, coating his hands and flooding over his knuckles. 

The curtain hissed as she pulled it away from the wall, her eyes traveling all over his body, appraising him and approving. She smiled, a little coy,

“Got room for one more?”

[dollfacefantasy]

Special Day

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink

word count: 5.2k

a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.

For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.

That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.

It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.

If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.

It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.

For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.

You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.

As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.

Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.

“Zip me up?” you request.

Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.

“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.

“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”

You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.

“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.

You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.

“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”

It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.

“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.

“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.

After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.

He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”

You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.

The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.

He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.

It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.

Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.

He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.

“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.

You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.

Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.

“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.

You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.

“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”

You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.

Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.

“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.

“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile. 

Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.

“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.

Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.

“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”

He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.

“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.

He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.

It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.

“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.

His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.

“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .

Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.

“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.

The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.

“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”

You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.

“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.

You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.

Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.

You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.

You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.

“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”

You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum. 

With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.

“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.

You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.

“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.

The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.

“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.

You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.

Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.

“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.

You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.

You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.

Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.

Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.

After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.

He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.

His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.

In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.

“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.

He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.

“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.

He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth. 

His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.

“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”

Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.

“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.

He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak. 

“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.

“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.

The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.

He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.

“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.

You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.

“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.

“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.

He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.

“My little doll ready?” he whispers.

You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.

“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.

He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.

“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”

“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.

He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.

“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.

You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.

After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.

“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”

With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.

He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.

Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.

“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.

You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.

The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.

“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”

He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”

“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.

“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”

You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.

“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.

[specshroom]

•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(CW: It's smut bro. Sukuna has two dicks, pp in vagina, pp in ass, They fuck in the curse blood bath, cunnilingus, fingering, cervix fucking? Idk. )

The Queen of Curses tries her best to be as nonchalant as possible as she's being escorted to the curse blood bath meant to reguvinate her body to it's full strength. Anybody would struggle to stay nonchalant if they could feel the gaze of the King of Curses trained on their body. She's surprised he can't smell the need flowing off her from where he walks, a few feet behind her. Uraume definitely can with the way the woman's perked nipple presses into the sorcerer's arm and the way her flushed skin radiates heat. 

As they reach their destination a few steps above the giant pool, the woman turns to her husband and bows dramatically.

"Please you first, My king" she says with a grin.

Sukuna scoffs at his wife's antics, crossing two arms over his chest as the other two go to undo the string keeping his baggy white pants up. The article drops to the floor and his wife isn't bashful about taking in all her husband has to offer as he walks past her into the huge pool of dark liquid. 

She looks to her subordinate who is already kneeling on the ground folding up Sukuna's forgotten pants. Taking the opportunity she steps towards them and says. 

"Uraume, would you mind helping me undress?"

Uraume stands up without a word. When they stand to full height their head only comes up to their masters cleavage, something that was always very amusing to the woman. 

Uraume's delicate fingers go to the knot tying their masters kimono around her body. They gently loosen the knot until it unwraps and the loosened clothing exposes her whole front to them. Uraume isn't surprised at all by the fact that their master isn't wearing anything under her kimono. 

"AY, hurry it up!"

Sukuna yells from where he sits in the waist high blood. The woman clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. 

"So impatient."

she scoffs to Uraume before shrugging the kimono off her shoulders till it falls to the ground. She walks down the steps towards the pool as Uraume kneels again to fold the long silky piece of fabric. They know that neither of their masters will need their garments any time soon. 

Sukuna stands up as his wife steps into the pool, dark droplets falling from his sculpted frame. Where Uraume only makes it up to their masters breasts, she barely makes it to Sukuna's shoulders.

She looks up at him through her lashes as she gets closer, so close her tits graze against his crossed arms. 

She slowly reaches out to caress the skin of her lover, following the inked lines up his waist. She keeps following the dark lines until she gets to the pair of crossed arms, encourage them to uncross and bringing them to her waist. Sukuna starts rubbing his fingers into her lower back just the way she likes. She traces the black patterns higher up his chest, along his neck until she cups both sides of his face. 

She delicately runs her fingers against the deformed side of his face, caressing the massive beast as if he's made of porcelain. He grasps the wrist of the hand that so gently touches him, holding it still as he leans into her palm. The two hands on her waist pull her body closer, he closes his eyes and breaths her in. 

"why so soft all of a sudden?" 

he mumbles against her tattooed wrist, it didn't sound as teasing as he wanted it to. 

She smiles at him. 

"Because I'm your wife."

 She says lowly, half lidded eyes staring into his soul... If he has one. The curse king stares back with just as much reverence, they move closer until their noses are touching, breaths mixing. 

She suddenly pushes him away hard enough to make him lose balance and fall ass first into the thigh deep blood they're standing in. When his head resurfaces he sees his wife doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach.

The man growls in anger. Why must the woman he loves be so irritating? 

"Hahahaha! Uraume did you see tha- ah!"

Sukuna grabs his wife while she's gloating, pulling her closer to him by her thighs. One hand on the upper thigh, one on her ass, one on the other knee, pulling it over his shoulder and the last one around her ankle holding her in place. Finally his face is exactly where he's wanted it to be for a thousand years now, just a few inches away from her warm cunt.

He looks up at her with four angry eyes.

"You play around too much, woman."

She looks down at him from between her breasts which move up and down with her short breaths. Having him so close to where she needs him the most is making something in her stomach heat up.

"You think I can't tell how much you want me right now? You think I don't know you crave me just as much as I crave you?" 

She grabs at his hair and shuffles in his hold. She can feel his breaths on her cunt, her need is overwhelming. She tries pushing his head to finally make contact with her needy pussy but he doesn't budge, grinning up at her while he nuzzles the side of his face into the flesh of her thigh. 

"Mhm. I can be a tease too, baby."

She lets out an irritated huff. 

"Ryo, if you don't eat me out right now I swear-"

She pauses, not knowing what to say while her husband looks at her with a shit eating grin, cocking his eyebrows up for her to continue. 

"I won't suck either of your dicks."

She says with finality as if she didn't just come up with that on the spot. She crosses her arms over her tits, all proud of herself.

Sukuna chuckles, she can feel the breathy laugh on her cunt. She involuntarily clenches around nothing and her posture hunches a little.

"Well damn baby, that's all you had to say."

 He says before finally. Finally. diving his head in between her plush thighs. Licking one big stripe up her cunt to her clit before settling on a rhythm of eager lapping and sucking. The pleasure is instant as she hunches over and curls her fingers in his short fluffy hair.

The groan she lets out is so gutteral it makes him moan into her pussy. Safe to say, even after so many years he hasn't lost his touch. He keeps going at it as she grinds back into his mouth. The hard malformed part of his face scrapes against her thigh but she's always liked it. It reminded her exactly who was making her feel so good. 

"Ahh, Ryo" She groans into the night air as her husband holds up her whole body without any struggle, getting perfect full access so he can get his tongue as deep inside her as possible. She places a foot on his shoulder granting him even easier access, hands still tugging his hair.

He squeezes her ass and gropes at her thigh pulling her impossibly closer like he can never get enough of her. By the higher pitched noises she's making and the way her thighs tense up around his head, he can tell she's already on the edge of orgasm, about to reach her peak. 

He suddenly unlatches her legs from his shoulders and reaches up, grabbing her by the neck to pull her down into a harsh kiss. Her entire body gets pulled down so that she's straddling him now, blood coming up to just under her breasts. She struggles in the kiss, kicking at him and reeling from her ruined orgasm while Sukuna grins into the kiss.

She bites at his lips and he just kisses back with equal intensity. When her animalistic growls give way to a pitiful whine, he releases her from the kiss. Her nails dig into the wrist of the hand still around her throat. Drawing blood that drips down and mixes with the blood of hunreds of other curses. 

"You fucking bastard." 

She snarls at her supposed lover. He chuckles menacingly at her, very much enjoying the rageful passion she spits at him. That part of her is what made him fall in love with her in the first place after all. 

"Aww, poor baby."

Sukuna coos in the most patronising manner possible. The look of absolute rage on his wife's face makes him surprised the blood around them isn't at boiling point. She thrashes around in his grip, grunting, pushing, splashing, fighting against her horrible husband's hold. Sukuna just holds onto her tighter, never holding up, like she's his life force and if he lets go he'll die. 

She yells out in frustration and anger which is when Sukuna thinks it's the perfect time for the fat toungue of the mouth on his stomach to lick a hard long strip up her whole pussy. She instantly stills as her breath hitches. 

Sukuna brings his hand to her jaw making her look him in the eyes again as he thrusts the large tongue into her. The stretch makes her hiss and tense up. The initial sting quickly grows into euphoria, the feeling of the huge tongue moving against her walls is a pleasure that is indescribable. 

As her moans get louder and her eyes roll back, she almost loses herself again in the feeling but quickly shakes her head and looks at her husband with an intense glare. 

"You better make me cum this time, Ryo" 

She says in a raspy voice, the man in question grins as if he's innocent and replies back. 

"Of course, anything for My Queen."

She groans, not appreciating his teasing at all. 

"I'm serious, I'll kill you. I'll kill you if you do that again-"

Her ernest death threats are rudely interrupted by Sukuna shoving two of his fingers in her mouth. The other hand holds her jaw up for better access. Her dark eyes still trained on his, fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

"I said I will." 

He says, the teasing tone replaced with something deep and honest like a promise to her. 

The Queen takes a moment to admire her devoted partner before she allows herself to lose her mind on his tongue. 

Sukuna slowly thrusts his two fingers into his wife's mouth, loving the way her tongue flattens out to lick his fingers as he thrusts. He brings his other hand that's not holding her down on his tongue to press gently into her unoccupied hole.

She groans at the new sensation of having her ass played with as Sukuna slowly moves to thrust a finger inside. He lowers the hand on her jaw to fondle and squeeze at her tits. 

The woman is in absolute euphoria, her eyes flutter shut as her tongue lols out, spit messing down Sukuna's wrist and her chin. So many different places being stimulated. So many areas of pleasure. It's so overwhelming, it's no wonder she's already almost there again. 

She opens her eyes to stare at her husband, they always liked looking into eachothers eyes when they cum. She only gets louder and needier as Sukuna uses multiple hands to dutifully work her up to her climax. Sukuna brings two hands to her hips and thrusts her down hard on his tongue right as he thrusts it up so deep into her. She uncontrollably clenches hard as she comes undone on his massive tongue, loving every second he gives her. 

Sukuna takes his fingers out of her mouth to kiss her sloppily as she rides out the high. It takes a while for her to come down but once she does she's wrapping her arms around her husbands neck, pushing her body as close to him as it can be while kissing his neck.

"I missed you."

she whispers in between the soft kisses. Sukuna feels his heart and dicks pulse.

"I noticed." 

He grins cockily, the expected response from a bastard like him. 

"Yeah? Well I missed them too."

She murmured against his lips, shuffling her leg so that it grazes the two hard shafts below her. The King grins at her and waists no time hauling her up, pressing her close to his chest. He walks towards the edge of the giant pool and rests her down on the edge.

She leans back on her hands, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them. She admires her husband's imposing frame as he admires how she openly flaunts her body to him. 

Sukuna then holds both her legs right under the knee and brings them to either side of her chest so that his pretty wife is bent in half for him. Said wife lightly moans at the position he's chosen, shes basically presenting her pussy to him. She lets out another louder moan when she feels his two heavy cocks graze against her wet puffy pussy. Sukuna brings his face close to hers so he can see her face clearly as he rubs his cocks up and down her cunt. 

"You ready?" 

He asks, knowing full well that she most definitely is with how slick her hole is. She nods looking into his eyes. 

"Put it in then"

He says lowly, it was meant to be an order but there's just a hint of a plead in there. She reaches down between them to line up his two cocks to their respective holes. She holds them there so that Sukuna can slowly tease them into each entrance. Once the mushroom heads pop in, they both weakly moan. She moves her hand to grab his waist to ease him forward, gradually burying his cocks deeper into her. Once he's halfway in she presses on his waist to make him still, letting herself adjust. 

"Cmon, ease up baby." He mumbles, caressing her hips, waist and thighs soothing her body so that she's not so tense. He gives her neck kisses and eventually she eases up enough, pulling him forward again by the waist. Both of his fat cocks bottom out and the two lovers are in absolute euphoria. Chest to chest, arms clutching around eachother. They sit there for a minute, foreheads touching so they can stare into eachothers eyes. Neither of them meant for this to be so sincere but they truly just missed eachother so damn much and it's overwhelming. 

Sukuna adjusts, getting in a better position where his knees are bent and his whole body is hunched over his wife's in a mating press like position. This gives him much better leverage to slowly pull out, indulging in his wife's cute whines before he slides a pair of hands around her lower back and slams right back into her. 

The hands under her back lift her hips up slightly and it's such a perfect angle, allowing him to go as deep as possible. Feeling every inch of him in both her holes is making her go crazy. They both are so loud when they fuck, the sounds of their moans and the fast plap plap plap of their skin echos through the otherwise silent atmosphere.

"Ah! Squeezing me so tight, you're already gonna cum? Fuck!"

Sukuna tries to sound cocky but miserably fails. She can't even respond, she's been lost in the pleasure since he started thrusting. His grip on her thighs and waist tighten as she tightens around both of his cocks, so close to release. He has no idea how he hasn't cum yet but he's getting so desperate humping into her almost like a dog. The clenching and shaking is too much for him, he's gonna- 

"Fill me up, Ryo."

She whispers to him, tired eyes still looking up at him. With that, he cums hard and fast, shooting strong ropes of cum into her pussy and ass. Her eyes squeeze shut as the feeling of being filled up so well in both holes roughly pushes her over the edge. It's a feeling she'll never get used to.

 It takes a while for her to come down from the high, her fingers ease the grip she had on his newly bruised skin. Sukuna is lazily sucking on her neck, licking at the sweaty skin. Hes laying all his weight ontop of her, good thing she isn't a mortal woman or she'd be crushed under his monster weight. She feels him soften inside her and grins, a devious plan cooking up in her evil brain. 

"Hmm, Ryo?"

"Hmmm"

His head doesn't leave the crook of her neck as she rubs his back. 

"Do you think I can still fit both of them in my pussy?"

He halts. She's built up enough energy to roll the tired man onto his back and sit up in a single quick motion, dicks still inside her. Feet planted on the floor on either side of his waist she places both hands on his chest for balance and lifts herself off his cocks, making them both groan at the loss. He only watches, enamored by the sheer amount of cum that drips from her holes onto his abs. 

She adjusts to balance on the front part of her feet, spreading her legs wide as she manoeuvres her pussy over his two spent cocks. She takes both of them in hand, looking at his face to watch his reactions to her touch on his sensitive members. His eyebrows scrunch but he doesn't waver, lifting himself slightly on two elbows. She holds her pussy open with two fingers and brings herself down slowly, slightly taking in both heads. They both watch where the two heads disappear inside her dripping cunt. She stills and just when Sukuna opens his mouth to complain she quickly drops herself down, taking both cocks inside her in a rapid motion. Both of them let out something between a moan and a scream at the sudden stimulation of both Sukuna's thick cocks being forced so deeply inside such a tight space.

"Fucking crazy woman." 

He struggles out. The stretch feels so devine as she clenches and moans. Her head tilted up to the stars in the sky with a dreamy look on her face. She brings her hand to caress her tummy and grins when she feels it, the bump in her stomach right where his two cocks inside her are. She looks down at it which makes Sukuna look too and the man curses, tipping his head back, absolutely enamoured with his perfect wife. 

She pulls his hand from her hip to her stomach to hold it over the bulge there. They both moan at the feeling as she starts grinding back and forth in slow circles. 

"You got another one for me, Honey?"

She asks snarkily, as if she doesn't know how many rounds her husband is capable of, he just huffs and smirks. She raises herself up on her feet, until both dicks are juuust about to pop out and rams back down letting out a gutteral sound as they reach the deepest parts of her pussy. She continues with these hard long thrusts, moving her whole body up and down his lengths. Sukuna just let's his wife do her magic, occasionally clutching into her thighs and hips. Sukuna knows he'll never be allowed into heaven but the feeling of his two cocks rubbing up against one another inside his wife's pretty cunt is the closest thing to heaven he'll ever need. 

As she gets closer and moves faster the overstimulation starts getting to her and her full body thrusts get sloppier. Her body can't keep up with her need and she frantically tells her husband. 

"Ah, fuck me, Ryo please!"

Sukuna waists no time following his wife's orders and reaches under her legs to grab her waist with two hands. Her legs are pressed against her chest and he sits up before lifting her body up and pounding her even deeper than before. She clutches his biceps for some stability as she gets her cervix fucked by her insanely big husband.

 The position, the depth, the speed, the strength it's all too much for Sukuna as she clenches impossibly tighter. Before he can even register it, his balls clench and his dicks twitch until he's cumming hard for her. He hisses and lets out a long groan, pulling her close to him as he bottoms out so he can shoot his cum as deep inside her as possible. She can barely handle the amount of cum that gets pumped into her. Nothing in the world can compare to the feeling of being filled to the brim by her lover, its no time before she's cumming with him. Her pussy milking his two cocks for all they have. 

 They stay dead still like that for a solid minute until Sukuna falls onto his back bringing his wife with him, still clutching her tightly to his chest. They both breathe ragged breaths, bathing in the sweaty after glow.

"Wow." She chuckles in exhaustion lifting her head from where it rested on his chest to rest her hand on her chin and smile dazedly at him. He lazily grins back from the hard ground while his hands stroke up and down her thighs and back, one arm resting under his head. 

She slowly pushed herself up more with her hands on his chest before she gradually pulled his softened dicks out of her now fill cunt. She's surprised her belly didn't expand with all the cum inside her at this point. 

She stands up, feet on either side of her husband's waist. The copious amount of cum that leaks out of her is so lewd it would make a pornstar blush. He curls a hand around her ankle, his eyes not leaving the leaking pussy infront of him. She places her hands on her hips and puffs out her chest, standing there like some lewd naked superhero. She clears her throat to get his attention and his eyes flick up to her very smug face.

"I win." 

She says simply. His dazed grin falls comically fast.

"What?"

"I made you come first, both times we fucked."

She holds out her hand, presenting two fingers. Sukuna is dumbfounded to say the least. 

"What the fuck are you talking about? I made you cum first on my tongue."

He retorts, holding up one finger.

"Nuh uh, that doesn't count."

He's getting angry now and she knows it. He lifts himself up on his elbows.

"What the fuck do you mean it doesn't count?"

She stretches her arms above her head stepping over him to walk away.

"Doesn't count. Better luck next time, My Love" 

He grabs at her ankle.

"Hey! You promised me you'd suck my dick if I made you cum, remember?" 

She pretends to think for a second. 

"Huh, I did say that." 

she pauses before shrugging,

"Well, I'm hungry now. Uraumeee!" 

She dashes out of his grip but he anticipates it and stands up to grab her around the waist. 

"You will make good on your promise." He growls into her hair slightly grinding his bare cocks into her ass. 

She's unfazed as she turns in his hold and says sternly. 

"I know you know what it's like to not eat a single thing for ONE THOUSAND YEARS!"

Sukuna groans in exasperation, tipping his head up to the sky. 

"You got to eat plenty of innocents already! I've not had a single mortal and might I remind you who's fault all this was in the first-"

"You called master?“

Uraume suddenly appears bowing behind the woman, interrupting her tangent which Sukuna is relieved about. The woman turns with a gleeful look in her eyes.

"Uraume~ Darling, I'm starving."

"I've already prepared you both a few meals and clean clothing."

The Queen practically vibrates with happiness. She reaches out to bring the sorcerer into a sweaty hug.

"Oh Uraume, what would I do without you?"

Just like that the Queen of Curses is back to cooing over her favourite sorcerer, clinging onto them as they lead her to the meal they prepared.

Sukuna just stands there for a minute, contemplating his entire marriage to this point as he watches the two scale up the stares. He peers a bit lower to the absolutely drenched state of her thighs as his multiple loads leak from her filled pussy, walking just a little wobbly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. As much as he wants to complain and act like he hates it, he knows he's absolutely pussy whipped.

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 

But he can’t sleep here. 

“San. San, are you awake?” 

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 

If you reach that point. 

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 

“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 

“Noona.” 

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 

“She’s in early today, right?” 

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it. 

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?” 

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 

You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[csuitebitches]

On Being Well Spoken

I recently received a request about posting something regarding being well spoken.

Something you need to realise is that you’re not going to become well-spoken overnight. You need to practice on people. You need to SPEAK.

I used to stutter so badly that I could barely speak a whole sentence.

Flash forward a few years. I pitched my start up in front of a crowd, I joined Model United Nations in high school and college, I’ve been invited to speak on my entrepreneurial experience by some top universities in my country. It’s taken a lot to get here. And I’m still not where I want to be.

1. Apps to track progress and help you get better at public speaking

An app that you can use: “Speeko.”

I used to use this, it is beginner friendly and you can improve your public speaking skills as well.

2. Use topic generators

Go online and look up a topic generator. Generate a random topic, video yourself speaking on that topic. Don’t give yourself time to prepare anything - read the topic and start speaking. Set a time limit - you’ll realise that speaking for even 2 minutes can be quite difficult at times.

Not only does this make you realise that you may have limited language skills, but it will also make you realise exactly where you’re falling behind. Note down things in a journal.

- is grammar the issue?

- Lack of vocabulary?

- Too many filler sounds?

- Knowledge gap?

This is also a great idea if you’re at an intermediate level of learning a language/ polishing a language. Do this everyday and maintain a diary on your improvement.

3. Reading out loud

Select a news article or any article. Read out loud, slowly and steadily. Pronounce every syllable calmly.

A two minute read should take 5 minutes to read out loud. That’s how slow you should go. Not more than 4-5 words per breath.

Your tongue needs to get used to different syllables and sounds. Practice will help.

4. Talk in real life

Talk to anyone and everyone whenever you can.

Ask your barista how their day is going.

Ask your work or university security if they’ve had a good day and if they ate today.

Chat with your taxi driver about their life. I always start with asking them if they are from the city we’re travelling in. Even if you’re from that city, act like a tourist. Where are the best eateries? The conversation eventually goes to personal questions. How many children do they have, and what do they do? What do they like about the city?

You’ll learn the art of small talk only through practice. No book or guide can actually prepare you. You have to practice, practice and practice.

5. Diaphragm breathing

Diaphragm breathing is very important. Look up some YouTube videos for reference. You essentially breathe from your tummy (stomach goes in and out; not chest going up and down). This is a great calming exercise too.

6. Stuttering tongue/ jaw exercise videos

These are great because they really do prep your jaw and tongue well. The videos could include tongue stretches, placing your tongue on your palette correctly, etc. Search on YouTube.

7. Body posture

You really need to work on your posture too. Sit up straight. Back, STRAIGHT. Chin up, shoulders relaxed. Something as simple as posture can change your level of confidence.

8. Pranayama

A yoga exercise for breathing. You can find a guided video on YouTube for sure.

9. Vocabulary

Invest your time in expanding your vocabulary. There’s enough apps and games that can help you with that, if you aren’t fond of reading. A sign of being well spoken is having great vocabulary.

Start by looking up the synonyms of everyday words.

“I’m upset”

- how many different words can you find for upset?

“I had a crazy day today”

- one can easily use “hectic”, “chaotic” “lively” instead

10. Idioms

Idioms, phrases, sayings - look up common idioms in your language of choice. Aim to use at least 3 new idioms on 3 separate occasions in a week while you speak. You need to understand when and where you can use the idioms in your vocabulary.

11. Knowing when to switch

You can’t talk like a 50 year old heiress to a 10 year old child; you need to get down to their level.

If someone is clearly not a native speaker and is struggling to put words together, don’t use difficult words around them.

If you’re meeting with someone high profile, refrain from using slang.

The best speakers know when to switch their level of language.

You can’t use one singular type of speaking with everyone. You need to understand that there is a time and place for everything - and you’ll be able to switch like a pro only when you actually speak and start gaining experience.

[narraboths]

“You got anything to tell me about yesterday’s interview, Ponytail?”

Being cornered by one’s editor is rarely a good sign. Being cornered by a harried Snapper Carr one month into her tenure as a rookie reporter would be enough to give others nightmares for a month. Maybe ulcers. Kara, though, she’s been having a great week, and she’s not about to let anyone ruin it.

“Nope.” She pops the p a little. Something about Snapper’s moroseness always pushes her to be spitefully chipper.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not at all.”

“Hm.” Snapper nurses the thought with that dour, toothachey look that Kara’s come to learn is directed at her just as much as it is a sign of his general displeasure with the world. He pulls out his phone, jabbing at the screen. “So do you mind explaining to me why my cub reporter is on the front page of every gossip rag from here to Metropolis as the Mystery Blonde Caught in Luthor’s Web?”

That can’t be right is immediately the tip of Kara’s tongue but it freezes there, along with the incredulous laugh threatening to burst out of her, because Snapper is shoving his phone in her face and–

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, instinctively, then winces at her own choice of words. Great save. “I was just being considerate.”

It’s true, really. She was only holding the door open for Lena as they left L-Corp (Lena was on the move the whole day, they did half of the interview in the back of her Range Rover, flitting between offices), and it only happened that Lena’s hand fell to her forearm, a completely innocent gesture, as innocent as Lena’s smile, as the way she swayed a little closer, saying thank you as she strode by. And sure, Kara may have felt mesmerized for a single, fleeting moment, suddenly so deeply flustered by the gentle weight of Lena’s hand that she almost cracked the door handle in two, but who wouldn’t? Lena Luthor just has a remarkable presence. Why are they letting paparazzi camp out at the L-Corp doorstep, anyways?

“I’ve never seen Luthor that affectionate with anyone.” Snapper eyes Kara suspiciously, his face screaming why you of all people, bumbling rookie who can barely even spell?. “I’ve never seen any of the Luthors affectionate with anyone at all.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm, sir.” Kara flashes the most annoyingly innocent smile she can, then squares her shoulders. “Did you actually read my article?”

There’s a beat of silence, Snapper staring daggers at her. Then finally, finally, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Of course I read it. It’s going out first thing tomorrow.” He pockets his phone, then rubs his face with a tired motion. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You got it, boss.”

-

It happens again.

It happens again a bunch, really. (Kara at the L-Corp gala, at Lena’s table, the two of them in lively conversation, shoulders pressed together – she was telling me about L-Corp’s new green energy initiative, sir –, the fond smile and almost-teasing tone when Lena calls “yes, Miss Danvers?” at her press conference – she’s just nice! It’s not a crime! –, the candid of them on the CatCo balcony when Lena’s in house for her cover shoot, Kara gesturing excitedly and Lena leaning against the railing, hanging onto every word, a jacket two sizes too big wrapped around her shoulders – you know it gets cold out there. At least there’s no photos of her wrapping the jacket around Lena, their hands brushing together, the faint blush along the lines of Lena’s throat. That’d probably look pretty suspicious.) Snapper’s face takes on increasingly vivid shades of purplish red.

“Do we need to go over the meaning of journalistic integrity again, Danvers?”

Kara decides to take graduating from “Ponytail” as a win.

“We’re not– it’s not anything untoward,” she shoots back, arms crossed, only slightly blushing. In anger, certainly. “I’m doing my job. I grilled her on L-Corp still holding a contract with the government for anti-alien defense systems that Lex negotiated, just last week. There’s footage.”

“Yeah,” Snapper grinds his teeth so vehemently that Kara’s afraid he might crack a crown. “Footage of her hugging you in the hallway afterwards, too. What the hell were you doing?”

“She just thanked me, sir.” The vein on Snapper’s neck looks ready to burst. Kara makes a mental note to recommend meditation at a less belligerent time. “She said my question made it possible for her to make a public stance and really send a message.”

Snapper looks like he’s nearing an aneurysm.

“Hell, Danvers, that sounds even worse!”

It sounded pretty great, actually, Kara thinks, after the borderline unprofessional row they had in Lena’s office when Kara first broached the subject. It felt pretty great, too, not just Lena’s declaration, her renewed commitment to reject everything Lex and Lillian stand for, but the warmth of Lena’s pressed against her, her lips brushing against Kara’s cheek, the low murmur of “you’re such a wonderful friend” in her ear that gave her such a strange shiver. At least that much thankfully escaped the prying eyes and cameras.

“Either I don’t go near her, or CatCo continues to have the leading stories on one of National City’s most high-profile citizens.” She gives Snapper the steeliest look she can muster without letting her heat vision flare up. “And my covers are currently bringing in our biggest numbers. Sir.”

Snapper grinds his teeth again, but his shoulders sag just a touch, and Kara knows she’s won this round.

“You’re on thin ice, Danvers. Back to your desk.”

Kara complies with a grin and a thumbs up, and decides to take a break half an hour later, when Alex forwards her an article titled Bosom Buddies: Lena Luthor Out And About With CatCo Gal Pal with a subtle mix of skull, knife, and eyeroll emojis. She does save one of the photos, though, the one where Lena’s head’s thrown back in adorable, delightful laughter.

-

“Can you explain this one, Danvers?”

Snapper doesn’t look angry this time. No, he’s strangely calm, somewhat elated, even, slamming a whole bundle of newspapers down on her desk, jolting Kara out of her reverie. Half of them are National City publications, Kara vaguely notes, but there’s Metropolis and Gotham and Central City in the mix, too, as if it was the story of the century. Must be a slow news day.

“Of course, sir. I think the proper term is ‘first date’?”

To her greatest surprise, Snapper barks out a laugh, loud and gruff.

“You’re now barred from any future reporting on the Luthors or L-Corp,” he tells her, not without a touch of satisfaction. If Kara hadn’t been walking on sunshine for the past thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds, since the first tentative press of Lena’s lips against her own, she might’ve felt a bit miffed. “Cat Grant’s setting aside a little time later in the afternoon to chew you out personally.”

Kara nods happily along. Withering tones and grim disapproval, the usual spiel, as if anything could dull that buzzing, electrifying feeling coursing through her body since last night, the weightless, feverish joy that grips her every time she thinks of Lena’s last text and everything can’t wait to see you again tonight could possibly entail.

“Yessir.”

“Congratulations, Danvers.” Snapper raps his knuckles against her desk. “Let’s spare each other the heartburn from now on.”

- 

(Kara shows up with a hickey on her neck and the headlines of Lena Luthor Packs PDA With New Girlfriend the next day. Snapper refuses to look her in the eyes for the rest of the week.) 

[lovegasmic]

Okay, okay, so have you heard that bodybuilders or people who work out a lot are using breast milk because it has so many benefits? There is a whole article, but there is no scientific evidence yet. This screams toji. 😭 like this mf will convince you one way or another.

I'm sorry I just finished reading your little fanfic about breast milk and I'm going wild

HELLOOO? NO I HAVE NOT HEARD ABOUT IT BUT THATS SOOO TOJI YOURE RIGHT OMG IM SCREAMING RN ( I love you and your brain sm )

so bodybuilder!toji or just gym freak!toji who shows you a very very suspicious looking article on a not trusting website about the benefits of breast milk, and at first, you’re hesitant, but god... Toji really has his ways with words, huh?

“let’s taste it, doll, won’t you do it for me?” manipulative is what he is ( not really ) but that cocky smirk and the slow trace of his tongue on the scar on the corner of his lip really is tempting, plus the suggestion of providing relief to your sore and heavy tits is way too tempting to refuse...

you’re doing it for him, for your hot, big and muscular lover to continue his passion of hitting the gym and getting even more big, but he likes it and you like him, so you’re perched on his lap, or perhaps laying on the bed with Toji’s gym bag next to the bed, you still in pajamas and his ‘goodbye kiss’ now also consists of a slow and sloppy tit sucking, but it doesn’t stop there, “gotta make sure today’s progress is not in vain” he mutters after returning home and before undoing your shirt or just lowering the straps of your top and suckling on your nipples again, eyes closed shut and savoring the warm, creamy taste of your breast milk.

he considers asking if you’re willing to fill a bottle for him...

[castiwls]

fortnight - a.d

Paring; art x reader

Prompt; 'I touched you for only a fortnight. I touched you, but I touched you'

Requested; anon

Warnings; infidelity implied

Notes; reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

You’d believed that you could be a home wrecker.

The idea alone left you feeling slightly nauseous. The thought of being the single reason a person’s whole life crumbled before their eyes only made that pit in your stomach grow more.

But he’d insisted that it wasn’t home wreaking. You couldn't wreck a home that was already crumbling. 

And you’d tried to be the better person. You really had but even the strongest people crumble eventually, and maybe you weren’t as strong as you’d believed.

The solid weight behind your chest served as a constant reminder of just how weak you truly were. “What time’s your flight.” His breath ghosted your neck as he pressed his lips to your neck for a moment. 

“Nine.” You hummed turning in his arms. Blue eyes met yours as you settled back down in his hold. Art frowned humming quietly under his breath. “Can’t you push it back?” 

“I already have once.” You sighed. “People are going to get suspicious.” You’d already overstayed your welcome enough that people were starting to question why you were even still here.

For the last few days, you’d been able to brush them off, simply saying that your boss wanted more material for another article but as the tournament began to finish up that excuse was quickly drying up.

Art huffed quietly brushing a hand up your leg as he thought for a moment. He knew this would happen eventually. That he could only live in this small bubble you had both created before reality came crashing down.

He hated it.

“I know.” He shifted slightly moving to lean closer. His breath fanned your lips for a moment as his eyes seemed to run over your face, memorising every detail as he did. “I really need to go. My flights in three hours.” The words were strained as you spoke. You wanted nothing more then to melt back into his touch but you knew if you did you’d never leave.

Art’s eyes flicked to the clock behind you before his nose brushed yours. “We have time.” He whispered, a hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

Your lips parted, ready to disagree but the words died on your tongue as he pressed his lips to yours. Any argument you’d had about leaving seemed to melt away as he moved impossibly closer, his free hand squeezing your hip.

You’d never admit it out loud but you knew you’d fallen far too deep. You’d managed to become caught in a web you truthfully didn’t want to leave.

[222col]

more sugardaddy!au | patrick's obsessed with you, taking advantage of you every moment he can, art's dreaming of doing the same | 18+

the week patrick spends at your apartment is amazing, buying you new outfits for all his matches, dressing you up a little doll. you spend most of the rest of the time hidden away from the world, patrick using you as his personal fuck toy. destroying you in every place possible, over the kitchen counter, on the chair in your bedroom, up against your floor to ceiling windows. you cook him meals, make him coffees every morning and shower him in affection any chance you get. he's never felt so looked after in all his life. art's messages have died down, not stopped, but your phone isn't ringing every 20 minutes anymore.

i watched patrick's match. you looked beautiful. i can't believe you let him kiss you like that

he's hurt. broken. ashamed of himself of never claiming you the way patrick has. the tennis news world haven't stopped talking about this up and coming model that's captured the adoring eyes of tennis fans. art sees every post, every new article that comes out about you. tennis fans are eating you up, praising you for your fashion choices, that patrick of course secretly claims as his doing. social media is blowing up any new picture of you and patrick that comes out. patrick's been posting you, so shamelessly. pictures of you at dinner dates, when he takes you shopping, candids of you doing your make up. all art can do is watch, and complain to tashi, who's given up on listening.

"the finals in two days," patrick says to you, sat on your couch, your legs on his lap. "hmm, i know, i'm looking forward to it." you mumble peacefully into your morning coffee. "if art wins today, it'll be the two of us in the final." he's stroking your legs, softly drawing shapes on your shins. "i know." you gulp. patrick tilts his head to the side, his hands now massaging your feet. he's pushing, he wants more from you. "you haven't seen him since you left last week, have you?" he knows the answer, you've been with him the whole time, but he's easing you into the conversation. you simply shake your head. "no, i haven't, but he's been texting me obviously." patrick already knew that, he's seen most of the texts. "how do you feel about it? if its us two in the final?" he's being sweet, bringing up your feet to kiss your toes, making you giggle. "i don't know, it'll be a bit weird obviously, i don't know how he's going to act, but i'll be there for you, not him." you bring your coffee mug up to your lips, taking a sip. "you gonna be rooting for me, princess?" he kisses your toes again. "obviously." he leans over to you, taking your mug from your hands, putting it down on the coffee table. "hey, i was drinking that." you pout at him. patrick crawls over your body, placing himself between your legs. "you gonna be shouting my name, cheering me on to beat him?"

if there's one thing in this world patrick loves more than anything, it's power. he thrives off it, revels in gaining power and using it to his advantage. he and art have always had interesting power dynamics, patrick's always loved watching it unravel in front of him. so this new storyline in their dynamic excites him, and quite frankly, turns him on.

you're trapped underneath him, nodding softly at patrick's words. his lips attack your neck, straight to the sweet spot he's discovered that turns you into putty under his spell. "patrick," your eyes close, his name slipping off your tongue like honey. the way you say his name makes his cock twitch, like no one's ever pronounced it right before he heard his name escape your lips with a moan for the first time. "god, if you said my name like that on the court when cheering me on art might just kill me there and then," he's kissing his way down your body, sliding his tongue across your skin, pulling up the t-shirt of his you're wearing to expose your bare chest. his lips wrap around your nipple, more moans slipping out of your mouth, hands grasping hold of his curls. he keeps tonguing his way down your body, pulling your underwear down your legs. licking a line through your folds, hands groping your chest. guttural moans leaving your lips as he blows hot air on your sweet spot.

"bet art never had you moaning like this, princess," you should be uncomfortable, should feel fucking terrible about the way patrick talks about art. but you don't. you're dripping at his words. art was sweet, gentle, fucked you slowly, patrick waits until he's fucked you like an animal, coming inside you before he asks if you're okay. he lets his primal instinct take over, fucks you hard and takes no mercy. "tell me," he mumbles against your cunt, pushing his fingers inside of you. you mewl at the feeling, his digits curling up to massage the sweet spot inside of you. "fucking tell me." he's ordering you now, moving his fingers at the speed of light. "never," you moan, hands tightening around his hair. "never fucked me as hard as you, never made me cum as much as you."

you can feel him smirking into your sex, making out with your clit. he's working you into orgasm, not pulling away to breathe, not stopping the speed in which his fingers are fucking you. he lives for it, wants to drink you in, like no matter how close his face is to your pussy, it'll never be enough. lapping up your cunt, drunk of the taste of you. your legs clinch around his head, back arched as his name falls from your mouth, screaming out. he tongues you through your orgasm, placing one final kiss to you as your legs loosen around him. "good fucking girl."

pushing his body onto the floor below the couch, his body landing with a thud, his mouth agape. straddling him as you fall on top of him, lips attacking his, tasting yourself in his mouth. only breaking apart to pull your shirt over your head, patrick following suit. pushing yourself up on his chest, sitting on his lap as you grind your bare cunt against his clothed cock. "stop fucking around and ride me." patrick's instructions are his own form of begging, ordering you around when he comes impatient. his hips buck up as he pulls down his boxers, lifting you up by your hips and forcing you down onto him. he doesn't hold back his moans as he thrusts his hips up as you bounce on his cock. his hand around your throat as you fuck each other at pace. he's intoxicated from you, eyes dark, not prying his gaze off your body for even a second. his hands moving to your shoulders as he stops your movement, groaning your name as his hips bruise your thighs, pushing against you, filling you with his load. hands dropping to his sides as he comes down from his high, sliding out of you as your mouth darts around his cock, licking him clean. "jesus, where have you been all my life?" you giggle around his cock, kissing up his length before leaning over to kiss his forehead. "let's get you cleaned up." you smile and lead him to the shower, where he inevitably can't resist you and fucks you again against the glass.

"never fucked me as hard as you, never made me cum as much as you." the sound of you plays from art's laptop, sitting on his bed, watching the scene unfold in from of him. watching patrick climb all over your body. art's hand slips into his shorts, he knows it's wrong, perverted, even. but he missed you, needed to see more of you than the occasional picture on patrick's story. logging into the security app on his laptop, pressing the 'watch live' button, seeing you and patrick having a domestic morning in your living room. starting to close the app, but as patrick pounced on you, he couldn't bring himself to turn it off. art had the one camera installed in the living space in your apartment after your neighbour a few doors down had a break in.

he was hurt by your words, studying your expressions and the noises patrick was forcing you to create. stroking himself at the sight before him, he's disgusted at himself, but he can't stop. watching you fuck patrick as he dreams of himself being beneath you how patrick was. art works himself to orgasm, some of his come landing on the screen. he's so embarrassed, his cheeks so very red, but it doesn't stop him overstimulating himself at the sight of you getting fucked by his best friend.

[sandwhitches]

𝗰𝘄: language, making out hehe, suggestive, slight angst

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“That’s just awful.” Suna said it with a laugh, the two of you were already in stitches over the accusations on his laptop. This one, like hundreds of others, was as terrible as it was amusing.

On June 4th, this bitch borrowed earrings that belonged to my dead grandmother and never gave them back.

You stifled a laugh with the palm of your hand as you watched Suna, who did nothing to hide his own thrill, type out the generously provided message, finishing off with the name of the culprit. Uploaded.

You found yourself once more on his shabby apartment carpet, eyes excitedly dashing between each submission. There’d been close to 400 just that week. The list was filled with expected and unexpected names alike: names you’d never read in your life, names of people who sat next to you in class, of someone you went to highschool with, repeat offenders, and your favorite, people who had pristine reputations. No matter how much of a saint these names appeared to be, once they went up on the website, their reputations would be tarnished by their wrongdoings.

It didn’t help their case that the entire school seemed to be waiting on pins and needles for each update. People always take a sick pleasure in watching others’ dirty laundry get aired out, you and Suna were happy to provide. There was only one rule to the whole ordeal: what they did had to be morally wrong. “It’s not gossip,” you’d told Suna, “it’s a warning.” As you saw it, the two of you were righteous benefactors of warnings.

“Are there any left?” You asked, peering over his shoulder at the screen, “Nah.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment. It certainly wasn’t a slow night, but you both knew you’d never get enough of it. Rintaro stretched out his sore shoulders, then leaned back against his palms, lolling his head over to look at you sitting cross-legged beside him. His brows shot up playfully, an unreadable parade of thoughts seemed to be marching through his mind in that moment. 

“I like this.” He stated plainly, to which you hummed in agreement, “Did you see that news article?” You followed, tilting your head curiously as he stood up with a groan and walked over to his nightstand. Suna pulled open the drawer, showing you the tattered clipping he had proudly cut from the newspaper, “I’m thinking of framing it.”

A satisfied grin twisted at the corners of your lips as you hoisted yourself up to get a better look at the paper, though you’d already read it tens, if not hundreds of times. University in Shambles. And it was all your doing. Together. 

Gazing upon the tiny printed words, something marvelous came to mind. It was a fleet of the moment idea until you broke the silence to turn it into something else, something better. “I wanna keep doing this.” 

Suna eyed you questioningly, “We’re not planning on stopping anytime soon, are we?” It’s true, the both of you had agreed not to quit your selfless duties unless you felt like someone was onto you, and so far, nobody had a clue. “I mean,” you started, taking the clipping from his hands to examine it with delight, “I want to keep doing this after college.”

To this, Rintaro finally turned to face you fully, eyes slightly widened, “Oh?” “Imagine it, Rin,” you sighed, slipping the little piece of paper back into his drawer, “not only knowing about the assholes on campus, but, knowing about them everywhere else.” Something akin to excitement flashed in his eyes, he keened on every word you said like it was the best thing he’d ever heard. It was the best thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s risky, but would you wanna do that? Make On Sight open to the public?”

His breaths began to shallow at the thought, how many submissions would there be? Not only would the university be in shambles, but so would the rest of the world. It made his chest bubble with unadulterated pleasure. Perhaps you weren’t great people for this, but neither were the ones whose names went up every night. A crime where the victims were no victims at all, they’re equally as bad as the two of you, if not worse. 

“That’d be terrible,” he licked his lips with fervor, “we should do it.”

You smirked with satisfaction, he was just as desperate for it as you were. Nothing was holding you back from keeping this rotten secret of yours for as long as you possibly could, not time and certainly not a lack of devotion. “Think you can keep a secret for that long?” You murmured coyly, inching closer to him, tantalized by this future you were beginning to picture. A future with him in it long past university.

“You know I can.” Suna’s face lowered to yours, eyes flickering down until he could feel his knees weaken at your grin. In that very moment, adrenaline coursed furiously through your veins, there’s nothing in the world that you could do without him wanting in on it. You two managed to bring out the very worst in each other, but it worked, it was beautiful, perfect, even. 

That was the point of the night in which everything blurred into one splotch of thrill in your mind. One moment the two of you were frozen in this sudden revelation of desire, the next his hand was on your jaw, pulling you into a deep, long-overdue kiss. Suna’s lips danced against yours with passion, need emanating in every touch to your flesh, your head spun as his tongue grazed against yours and you would have been able to taste his aching for you had the flavor of your own hunger not overpowered it. 

A clumsy three-step trip to his squeaky bed was made, he landed on his back, panting for more as you climbed atop him. You didn’t get the chance to see the way in which his eyes glazed over as you slipped off your sweatshirt, he’d already pulled you back down to kiss him in a frenzy. 

The air was filled with heavy breaths as he broke away to lose his own shirt, a scoff leaving his lips once you met heavy, lusted eyes, and you can’t help but laugh at yourselves. Foreheads pressed against each other and the tips of your noses touching, it’s all too wonderful. 

“You’re killing me.” He whispered against your lips, before seizing them, gripping your waist to flip you onto his pillow. 

The bed squeaked too loudly, you’re sure the headboard of which was fucking up the lazy paint job of his apartment, and the two of you couldn’t stop laughing between kisses, but that night would surely be the only perfect one in your life. You cherished it like it was gold. 

Suna was your best friend, but now he was something more, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you both would like to keep it that way for a while.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

✱ now you know their little agreement

✱ RIP sunarin's roommate who probably heard more than he'd like to hear

✱ wow i hope nothing bad happens to this budding romance it would be a shame

✱ mattsun tinder slight reference to HOT TO GO by @nectardaddy go read it right mf NOW

✱ the unanimous vote for marry on the podcast is bokuto

𝗮/𝗻: ugh sorry this is posted kinda late today was wacky. i saw borderlands, don't watch it girlfriend it's bad. i had to watch maxxxine as a palette cleanser afterwards, i fucking love that trilogy omfgggg. thanks for beta reading ree, fly high, i miss you

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