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#and it just further darkens his skin
bumblingbabooshka · 2 years
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Blush
[Image: Tuvok, a black Vulcan, glances to his right, leaning forward. He has a neutral expression as he listens to someone unseen. Whatever they say is not shown. He has large, pointy ears which are upright. An arrow points right, to the following image.] [Image: Tuvok has straightened up and is now glancing to his left, away from the unseen speaker. His expression is slightly troubled. His posture is avoidant. A dark blush covers his face and runs down the tips of his ears which have flattened in embarrassment. Cartoonish smoke wafts out of them to signify the depths of his flustered state.]
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neckromantics · 3 months
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We don't talk enough about how absolutely devastating and romantic and hot the idea is that Astarion would know the scent of your blood anywhere.
How quickly he would notice when you've even the slightest of nics? When, no matter how focused on anything else he might be at the time, he always comes to check it out?
You'll be peeling a piece of apple with your pocket knife when it slips in your grip. The sharp edge of the blade slices a shallow cut into the meat of your thumb, and you inhale sharply through your nose even though it barely hurts at all. Instinct has you sucking your injured digit into your mouth with a soft curse– the sweet juice of the fruit you were snacking on quickly overpowered by the metallic twang of blood.
You nearly jump out of your skin when he appears over you not a moment later. He makes some offhand comment about how careless you are. Takes hold of your injured hand and tuts like he intends to tease, but he isn't fooling anyone.
He stands so close, jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, a tension in his shoulders that tells you he's doing everything in his power to keep composure. Your blood calls to him like a moth to a flame, and as funny as you find it in the moment, you don't have the heart to tease him for it. It's actually kind of endearing.
He'd only get quicker in noticing as time passes.
Especially after you've been traveling together for a few years, and he's come to know your scent better than his own. Which only makes sense considering how often he's got his nose pressed to some part of you. (He thinks you smell good.)
At this point, when you get injured in battle, he often catches the fragrance before you've even processed that you've been hit.
He'd suck in a sharp breath through his teeth– a hiss so loud that it catches your attention just enough for you to spare him a glance as you fight.
It's all you need to see just how blown his pupils are from where you're standing, mostly because his gaze is laser locked onto you to second you search for him. His movements turn faster. Deadlier, as he scans the field before you. Determined. Hungry. Angry. He's searching for the sorry wretch that dared to get the best of you– that dared spill even a drop of his beloved's precious blood upon the soil.
You've already taken them down, of course. Poor sap might have gotten a good dig in at your shoulder, but ultimately didn't stand a chance once he properly pissed you off.
Astarion's eyes go heavy.
Half-lidded in that special way of his and only darkening further as he appraises you. You can practically feel it as he follows the line of your throat, zeroes in on your pulse point for a moment, before settling to watch the warm crimson that's beginning to soak into the sleeve of your tunic.
You see a bit of concern in those eyes, but then he sees your smile and– A flash of hot, honeyed desire catches you by surprise.
You suddenly can't tell if it's just the blood loss making you woozy or if he's about to make you swoon like a maiden from an old romance novel. You try (and fail) to keep a straight face when he sinks his dagger into his final opponent's neck without so much as a glance their way.
There's a splash of red against pale white skin, and a lifeless body dropping to the grass by his feet. Your heart stutters in your chest, and he all but moans in response to the sound of it. A mere four paces and he's on you– hands and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin, ripping open parts of your armor to gain better access, like you're not stood in a field of gore and ruin and freshly spilled blood.
You cling to him like a lifeline.
Before he drags you away to camp– to a warm tent and a soft bedroll where he can have his way with you for as long as you and your mortal body will allow him– he has you down a potion of healing or two.
And it's a good thing one of you has a Lesser Restoration spell handy somehow, cause you're most definitely gonna need it.
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duuhrayliegh · 5 months
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consequences
a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO
also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW
other works
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“You want to what?"
"To open our relationship."
You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.
"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."
He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.
"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."
You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.
"I still can't believe he said that to you."
The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.
"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"
The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.
"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."
You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.
"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"
You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.
"Focus on me, Peanut."
Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.
Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.
You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.
“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.
“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”
Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.
“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”
You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.
“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.
"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."
This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.
"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."
You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.
"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."
There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.
"I call bullshit."
Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.
"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"
Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."
Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.
"You can't bullshit my feelings."
He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.
"Uh, yeah I can."
He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.
"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"
You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.
"I don't know, four months?"
“Four months, twenty days."
Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.
"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."
He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.
"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."
His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.
"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"
"But he--"
"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."
"He didn--"
"Yes, he did."
Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.
"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."
Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.
"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."
You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.
"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.
What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--
"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"
"What if we end up not working out?"
"What if we do?"
The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.
"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"
You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.
"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."
Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.
A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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tanlines
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words: 2.7k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, PISS KINK!!!!, holding pee, peeing inside (of v), p in v sex, unprotected sex, dom/sub undertones, daddy kink, use of kid and kiddo to describe reader, f receiving oral and fingering, thigh slapping, hickeys/bruises, kinda dumbifiication?, degradation
you swear you’ve never felt a greater high than the one you get from rafes attention. instantly slipping into a dazed state when he puts his hands on you. you forgot what you originally came inside for as his hands wrap around your waist, guiding you towards the bedroom.
“my pretty little girl.” rafe kisses you, his soft words contrast to the dominance of his lips as he maneuvers you towards the bed.
“rafey.” you whine when his head buries in your neck, first pressing kisses to the hickeys he left a week ago before sucking the skin, causing them to rebloom and darken again, always needing some sort of symbol of his ownership over you.
“shh, daddy gonna take real good care of you.” rafe assures, his tongue sneaking out to lick over your skin, the heat from the sun still evident as he laps over the bruises that he refuses to let you cover, especially when you are traipsing around in the small bikini you’ve currently got on.
“please.” you whimper, immediately regretting it when rafe gets that familiar look in his eye.
“please what, kid? gotta get more specific.” he warns, hands dropping lower to toy with the ties on either side of your suit.
“kiss me again.” you place your hands on his jaw, navigating your lips back to his as you kiss, pressing your body forward, your chest against his torso, breasts squishing up against him, making the fabric of you swimsuit rub deliciously over your hard nipples.
“such a cute little thing.” rafe mumbles against your lips before sinking his teeth into your lower lip and giving it a tug. “always wanting to kiss and cuddle. so adorable.”
“just love you.” you hum, eyes glazed over as rafe kisses you again before pushing at your shoulders, gently guiding you down onto the bed.
“you’re so sweet kiddo.” rafe says as he tugs his jacket off, watching you squirm on top of the sheets. your eyes follow with great interest as his fingers work to undo each shirt button, teasingly slow as more of his skin is revealed before he pulls it off his shoulders, revealing his bare torso, muscles on display with his smattering of freckles.
rafe crawls onto the bed next to you, his hand coming to grip your breast over your bikini, squeezing at your plump flesh. he tugs the cup down when he gets bored of the barrier, not wanting any more separation as his palm rubs over your nipple.
you arch your back, pushing your chest further into his hand as he tugs the other cup down as well, tracing his fingertip over your tanline, further deepened from when you were laying out today before having to come in to get a drink of water and pee.
your eyes widen when you suddenly remember why you rushed inside in the first place, rafe interrupting you before you could make it to the bathroom. “rafey-” you whine, but the glare in his eye tells you he’s over being called that nickname.
“daddy.” you correct yourself quickly, squirming as you realize how full your bladder is, surprised you could forget about it, but rafe has that effect on you. all else becomes unimportant besides him.
you open your mouth to continue when rafe bends, his mouth slotting over your nipple as he pulls the bud into his mouth, sucking on your tit on as his hand moves to play with the other side of your chest.
“love your cute little tanlines baby.” rafe says, tongue sneaking out of his mouth as he licks over the line separating your pale skin from the bronzed skin you exposed to the sun. rafes tongue follows the line across the valley between your breasts before he reaches your other tit.
he drags his tongue in circles around your nipple before he presses forward and bites down, teeth sinking into your skin as he tugs.
“ah! daddy!” you yelp, hands coming to his hair, but you don’t dare tug, knowing that would only get you in more trouble.
“sorry baby, you’re just so cute i wanna eat you up.” rafe drags his teeth over the swell of your breast but doesn’t bite down anymore, instead shifting so he’s laying between your legs as he moves down the bed.
“daddy i have to-” you begin to explain why you need to stop, why you need to rush to the bathroom, but then his thumb rubs over top of your swimsuit, right over your slit.
“shh, daddy is gonna eat you out.” rafe says, licking his lips. he isn’t one to give you head often, prefering to finger and then fuck you, but occasionally he gets the need to have his head between your legs, mouth devouring our cunt.
“please-” you try to continue, but rafe doesn’t realize that your next word is going to be stop as his fingers come to the ties on either side of your hip, pulling at the strings until they unlace. rafe tugs the material away that was covering up his snack for the afternoon.
“pretty pussy baby girl.” rafe coos, thumb coming back to stroke over your folds before he separates them, opening you up for him. the rush of air on your pussy has you having to clench your hole, worried about spilling and letting your bladder go.
“aww, look at you trying to hide from me.” rafe drops his head, tongue pressing against your tight ring of muscle. you relax briefly, almost letting your pee go before you clench again, this time around rafes tongue.
“so tight honey.” rafe says as he pulls out, tongue lapping over your slit. “can’t wait to get my cock inside you.”
rafe laps up your wetness, swearing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted as he teases your clit, moving close to it but never touching.
“i-i-” you try again, but rafe finally sucks your clit into his mouth and all your thoughts are gone again as he finally pays attention to your most needy spot. 
“so tasty.” rafe mumbles against your cunt, chin messy and slick with your juices as his eyes slide shut, focusing on switching between rubbing his tongue against your clit and sucking it between his lips.
your eyes roll back in your head, not used to this type of service from rafe. it’s usually your mouth on him, or more aptly, rafe using your mouth for his own pleasure.
“s-s-sss.” you hiss out, again trying to form the word stop as your hips push up off the bed, trying to get rafes head to stay in between your legs, but he pulls away with an angry glare, slapping his hand against your hip.
“don’t be bratty.” he warns sternly, demeanor suddenly shifting and he moves from laying between your spread legs to kneeling. “i eat you out, and this is how you repay me?”
“ra-daddy.” you coo out, but rafe caught the slip. 
“shut up. don’t say another word or you won’t come for a week.” rafe huffs out, his brows etched together, upset that you ruined his fun time eating you out as he tugs his pants and underwear off, tossing them away.
you simply nod, focusing on controlling your bladder and not letting loose and making an even bigger mess of the bed.
rafe grips your hips, his hands covering the pale sides that are always hidden from the sun under your swimsuit. he tugs you up onto his thighs, manhandling your body like you weigh nothing.
rafe grips his cock, keeping one hand tight on your hip, a warning and a reminder of the control he has over you. he rubs the head through your slick folds before tapping the head against your clit, making you moan out before snapping your mouth closed.
“you can moan, kiddo.” rafe says upon seeing your panicked expression, worried that you broke his rule. “but don't say another word. sick of hearing your bratty complaints or calling me the wrong name.”
you nod, knowing you should just say that you have to pee, but you don't want to break his rule, especially when you’ve been trying so hard lately to be a good girl for him. rafe pushes his cock against your hole, frowning when you don’t relax for him.
“come on, baby. let me fuck you before i have to force myself in.” rafe commands, and you really do try to relax, but every time your body starts to loosen a little, you’re worried you’re going to start to pee and clench right up again.
“fucking hell.” rafe groans when he realizes that despite pushing, he’s not going to get inside of you with you so tense. rafe rubs his thumb harshly over your clit as one finger pokes against your hole until he can begin to finger you, pumping in and out quickly as your wetness builds, hoping rafe doesn’t realize that a bit of it is pee that you couldn’t hold back anymore, but the slight relief from dripping a little out is quickly replaced by needing to go even more.
“open up for me, kiddo.” rafe says, managing to push another finger into your hole, immediately beginning to scissor as his thumb pushes at your clit, his cock pulsing while watching you underneath him, hips pushed up onto his thighs.
you take a deep breath, ignoring the stretch the best you can as you relax, only cringing slightly when rafe spreads his fingers further, causing a jolt of pain.
rafe holds your pussy open with his fingers while he lines his cock up again, now able to successfully push in as he pulls his fingers out. they’re nothing compared to his cock, hard and large inside of you, making your bladder press against your skin.
you let out a moan, surprised by how your pleasure is amplified from having to pee and being forced to hold it. rafe pauses briefly to smile, but you know its not for your sake, not letting you adjust but rather taking a moment to appreciate how he finally got inside of your tiny cunt.
“gonna fuck you so good baby.” rafe punches his hips forward, making your back arch off the bed as you squeal.
rafe immediately sets a fast and punishing pace, ignoring your whines and gasps as his skin slaps against yours, adding to the wet squelching sounds of him pumping inside your wet pussy.
rafes hands grip at your hips, keeping your pulled up off the bed, raised to the level where he can fuck you while kneeling, liking how your upper back slides against the sheets as he fucks you, completely out of control of your own body.
“you feel extra tight today, darling.” rafe says, not realizing it’s because you’re clenching around his cock with such effort, not wanting to spoil the fun by letting your bladder go.
rafe repositions you suddenly, pressing your hips into the mattress before draping his body over yours, pressing your lips together in a sudden kiss. you try your best to focus on his mouth, hands coming to his hair to keep him close as your mouth glides over his.
“so good baby. i love you.” rafe says, thumb coming to rub your clit, placing his fingers over your lower stomach as he does, not realizing that he’s pushing directly on your full bladder, making you moan out as your eyes slide shut, mouth opening as your jaw slackens, but rafe just takes it as a plea to kiss you more.
rafes tongue invades your mouth, using your wide open mouth as an opportunity to explore and mix his tongue with yours as his fingers continue to push down as he focuses his thumb on your clit along with the swing of his hips in to fuck you.
“i love you daddy, i love you so much.” you whine out, eyes wide and focused on rafe, glad that he doesn’t mind your slip up when he warned you not to talk, not when it’s words so sweet as he feels your cunt pulse around him, not realize what is about to happen.
“oh, baby.” rafe coos as your eyebrows scrunch together, managing to keep your eyes open on rafes beautiful face as you cum suddenly, not even really feeling the buildup with your focus being so off, more forced out of your body by rafe.
you moan out, hands clenching in rafes hair as you grind your hips down against his cock, noticing he had stopped moving as your high runs its course until you collapse against the bed with a final moan.
you blink up at rafe, embarrassed how suddenly and intensely your orgasm came, when you realize the reason for the look in his eye as you suddenly don’t feel the need to pee anymore as you look down, realizing the bed was completely wet and your piss had gushed out around rafes cock when your orgasm was triggered.
“i’m so sorry daddy.” you cover your face, tears coming to your eyes.
rafe pauses for a moment, assessing the situation before he begins to slowly thrust again, your cunt even more warm as your pee soaks into the bed.
“shh, baby.” rafe tugs your palms away from your face, his hands wrapping around your wrist and pressing them into the mattress, putting his weight on them as he speeds up his thrusts. rafe peppers kisses all over your face as you begin to babble, trying to explain as his tongue sneaks out, licking away your teers off your cheeks.
“it was an accident i swear, i had to go but i didnt want to stop you and-”
“it’s okay.” rafe says.
“it is?” you question, pouting interrupted with a gasp as rafe continues to fuck your oversensitive cunt, dripping with your juices and pee.
“yeah, daddy is gonna piss inside you.” rafe says so nonchalantly you’re worried you heard him wrong, but you can tell by the smirk on his face that this is an idea he’s had for a while. “you’ve already made a mess of the bed, so you can be a real good girl and take my piss, yeah? to make up for it.”
“i-i can do that.” you nod, pulsing your cunt around rafes cock, wanting to do whatever it takes to make him happy, just glad that he’s not mad at you.
rafes eyes flutter shut as he concentrates before you feel it inside of you, almost like when he cums but much more fluid, noting how it easily drips out of your pussy while rafes cock continues to slowly pump into you.
you let out a moan as the warmth fills you, surprised how much you like the feeling. the way rafe instantly begins to thrust harder as soon as he finishes you can tell he likes it too. 
“cl-close.” rafe mutters out, a brief warning before pushing deep inside of you, hips nuzzled up against yours as he cums, feeling similar to his piss but even better as your eyes roll back in your head, another moan slipping out.
rafe collapses forward, head nuzzling into your neck, kissing the bruises he left.
“was it good?” you ask, rubbing your fingertips over his wide back.
“so good baby, gonna have to use you like that more often.” rafe says, managing to lift his hips with what little energy he still has to flop his cock out of you, now soft.
“maybe in the shower next time.” you giggle awkwardly, glancing at the mess all over the bed, now soaked with both of your pee, along with your wetness and rafes cum sliding out of your pussy in dollops.
“speaking of shower…” rafe says with a sigh, flopping himself to lay next to you.
“mhm.” you hum, knowing the warm water is exactly what your body needs. “i’ll clean up the bed after…” you decide not to think too hard about the mess, not until after your shower at least. “come on baby.” rafe slides off the bed, holding his arms open to carry you to the shower. “better hurry up before i have to piss again and use a different hole.”
your eyes widen as you push yourself to the bed quickly, letting rafe carry you into the shower, but not before pressing his lips against yours in a loving kiss.
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screampied · 13 days
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IDK HOW TO START THIS REQUEST🔥🔥🔥
Suguru fucking reader while they’re wearing his hoodie 🙏
see what I’m getting at right…..( + I hope ur doing good Vegas 🗣️ )
❤︎ ໋𓈒 suguru fucking you in his oversized hoodie
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warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, dirty talk, choking, unprotected, mdni.
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“you’re a dirty girl, you know?” and his voice, it was so smooth— a risqué rasp hides behind it as both of his hands firmly attach towards your waist. you’re suppressing moan after moan as you’re rocking back and forth against him, feeling him reach such deep pits of your entrance. your walls continue to clamp around him, squeezing him tight and it makes a low groan depart from his sheeny lips. “i… i’m startin’ to see why you like wearin’ my hoodies, sweetheart. so you can ride me with them on, huhh.”
he’s so hefty, geto was far more thick than he was long and the quaver you felt in your thighs had you aching…
he stares at you with the slyest expression. even something as simple as his gaze was sexy, he studied your frame and ran his fingers against the soft cotton fabric you wore. one of his old hoodies, a dark cerulean blue with a random band name stitched near the very back. “. . s-suguru,” you’d huff out, leaning into his neck to gingerly nibble against his skin. “touch me more, feel my body a little more.”
“oh but baby, you know i don’t like being demanded,” he replies cheekily, guiding your hips in such a way. he grips your waist, swaying them further against his lap and you moan at the way his stretch from his cock wore you thin. “if you want me to touch you more, you know what to do,” and he lightly grabs your chin, making you gaze right into his darkened irises. “pretty please, suguru. let’s start from there, hm?”
a tease—a simple way to describe geto, he loved getting under your skin.
you made it so easy for him too, his eyes mindlessly roam all over your body and he groans. something about seeing you ride him with his old hoodie gets him hard, you feel his cock twitch inside you before you grind just a tad bit forward toward him.
“pretty please,” you huff out in shortened breaths, clinging to your final pants. a simple thing as breathing was even hard for you, you’re having a competition with your own each breath, it’s cute. all you wanted was to just feel a hand of his skim all down your body, running down your waist, your thighs . . . maybe even between your legs. “touch me, sugu. p—pretty please.”
“gotta be more specific, princess,” he whispers, his voice still deep—sonorous with such playfulness behind it. you could listen to his voice all day, you’re steadily rocking your hips against him before he watches you grab his hands. still, man spread, he snickers once you slowly move his hands further down your waist. “mhm. okay, anywhere else?”
you bite back a moan, feeling the plump crown head of his cock thrash against your sweet spots repeatedly. you’re swinging against him each time you go forward and it makes him grunt. your rhythm was simply hypnotic. time and time again, you’re so loud and you squeeze a grip on his wrists before babbling.
“touch my thighs, a-and touch here,” he remains quiet, amusingly ogling at how handsy you are. his fingers trail towards the material of the hoodie, sliding underneath it before you make him rub against your bare tummy. “right there, sugu.”
“such a naughty girl,” he hums.
brushing his thumb against your waist, another focus near the inside of the hoodie, his touch was so warm…
geto grunts, leaning back with his legs all spread. his sweats were pulled me just briefly, and you’re riding him so good that you spot his adam’s apple poking out. you lean in to kiss near his neck and he groans, feeling the thrusts against him only get sloppier. “fuck, that’s it, girl. s-shit, fuck me like that, yeah,” and his lips were so close up to your ear. you’re a whiney mess, feeling his strong hips attach to your rotating hips before your hand ends up wrapping around his neck.
it’s unintentional— but he finds it hot.
you make direct eye contact for a short concise moment before you moan from his dick french kissing near your pulsating g-spot. “k—kinky girl,” he chokes out, hooded eyes never leaving yours. and his eyes shoot up the moment you find out he’s turned on. your rocking on his lap quickens at a more rigorous pace before he speaks in a husky rasp, “nah, don’t let go now,” he fake pouts, spreading his legs just a bit further. your fingers loosen against his throat before he holds your wrist. “choke me more baby, c’mon don’t be shy. you know what you’re doing to me.”
“you’re kinkier than me, suguru,” you pant, feeling yourself coming close the more you bounce on his cock. his thighs— it rubs against your skin, it feels so smooth. a smooth clean service, skin slaps and slaps and you’re so dizzy that your head spins— your mind’s going through a whirl, and he chuckles before slowly sliding his hoodie up towards your chest.
he grunts, a thumb exposing your breasts that flung against you with each move you make. you’re frantic, wrapping one arm around him with another tightening its grip around his pretty throat. “obviously. we know this, girl,” he jeers, and there’s never a dull moment where suguru geto is sassy. and he even shoots you an eye roll, arched black brows slightly forming into a furrow.
the sassiest.
“ooh,” he purrs up all into your right into your ear, an arm dangerously snaking around your waist. “someone’s gettin’ whiney. you gonna make a mess on me, princess?”
“y— yeah,” you croon out a whimper, the curve of his cock plowing right through you. your walls continue to squeeze him tight, hugging him like a vice before you moan right into his neck. “s-shit, ‘m gonna cum, sugu.”
his head throws itself back and it’s sexy, long strands flowing effortlessly— and he smells good.
his aroma was something you could never get enough of, so rich and elegant. geto wore the same cologne and it never grew old. he breathes through his nose before bringing a sharp spank to your ass. “fuckkk me,” he’d gruffly utter. he was approaching too— he felt it rising and rising, that familiar twitch in his right leg rapidly . you moan, feeling his dick frantically pulse right inside your cunt and you release your grip on his neck. for a moment, he stares into your eyes before grabbing your chin. “kiss me, baby. give me . . a taste.”
his words were a bit slow, he was growing weary himself but didn’t wanna stop. not now—not ever.
you lean in to give him a sloppy kiss, tongues immediately collide and clash against each other. geto’s breath was warm, his hands continued to slide up the hoodie before squeezing your breasts, fondling a bit with your perky nipples as you’re just about to reach your incoming peak. “baby,” he huffs out in short pants between each kiss. with his abs clenching beneath his shirt, you anchor a hand right through his strands as you start to suck on his tongue. only for a second, he groans—gifting your ass that same spank that makes your skin roughly ricochet. “. . uh, fuck. make me cum, ride me jus’ like that,” and his voice was the same low gruff but it sounds a slightly more . . needy.
he tastes candied, syrupy…
a lingering minty flavor resides on his tongue as your saliva mixes with his—a husked grunt gets caught in his throat. once he feels his base merely have enough though, he cums.
all inside you, you end up following shortly afterward and your body ends up spasming all on him. geto’s so pretty when he finishes. hooded eyes a low, he’s gasping for air once you pull away. sheeny glossed lips that were a bit marked from your lips attached to him, he pursed them together before feeling himself trickle inside you. “s—suguruuu,” you’d mewl out, bringing your hips to a halt as his fiery tip spits out thick amounts of velvety cum. it’s so full that you feel full, he makes you quiet by pressing a thumb against your lips, holding you close to yourself.
“listen to it with me.”
all you could hear was your pants and the subtle sound of his heartbeat— as we as geto dumping his seed into your walls, your finish was just as immaculate and euphoric. it’s so carnal, a hand runs down his chest as you lean forward to sneak a kiss near his chin.
“. . damnnn,” he breathes, holding you close. his thigh twitch and after a few long minutes he ends up finishing the last few drops inside of you, a hand grabbing your waist. geto stares into your eyes, a lazy pussy drunken stare and he slyly speaks in a drowsy tone. “you’re such a pretty good girl,” and he corrects himself, taking his hoodie off of you to fully expose your gorgeous physique. “. . . messy, but pretty.”
and you slip off a moan once he drags a hand down between your legs, two fingers inserting inside of you after he pulls out—swirling the inside of your entrance of the mess that happily coats his fingers before he takes his digits back out.
“you should wear my shit more often, princess,” he coos, and you watch as he slowly slots his slender fingers into his mouth. no shame at all that he was tasting the aftermath. his tongue gyrates against it before he takes it out abruptly, a long glossy strand of spit departing as well before he drags your lip down with a thumb. “open for me ‘n say ah. if i gotta taste how nasty you were for me, then so do you, princess.”
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pucksandpower · 2 months
Text
Smile! You’re on Camera
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: in which your inability to stay away from Lando means that viewers of your boyfriend’s stream get a free show
Warnings: 18+ content, accidental exhibitionism
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You quietly open the door to Lando’s gaming room, the glare of his monitors momentarily blinding you as you step inside. Lando doesn’t notice you at first, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers fly over his keyboard, immersed in an intense game of Fortnite.
“Hey babe,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him mid-game.
Lando jumps a bit in his seat, glancing over his shoulder to see you standing there, your hair slightly disheveled from sleep.
“Oh hey, bunny,” Lando says, flashing you a quick smile before turning back to his game. “Just give me a few more minutes to finish this round.”
You nod understandingly and walk over to him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. As you pull away, you spot the livestream chat flying by on the other monitor, viewers eagerly commenting about getting a glimpse of Lando’s girlfriend.
“You’re streaming right now?” You ask with amusement.
“Yeah, been going for a couple hours,” Lando replies, focused on the game. “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you by coming back to bed.”
You settle down on the arm of his chair, looping one arm loosely around his shoulders as you watch him play.
You nuzzle into his neck, lips pursed to place featherlight kisses along his jawline. The chair tilts back slightly from your shift in position. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, fingers fumbling over the keys. On screen, his character takes a hit.
Lando just shakes his head, trying to concentrate as he fights with an opponent. You continue playing with his hair, leaning in further until your face is right next to his.
“Y/N ...” Lando says in a warning tone, though you hear the smile in his voice.
“Hmm?” You murmur, sucking your mark above his collarbone as your hand drifts down to his chest.
“I’m trying to win here,” Lando protests half-heartedly.
“Mmhmm ...” you hum against his skin, nipping lightly at his jaw as your fingers deftly undo the top buttons of his shirt.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Lando protests half-heartedly. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
You glance pointedly at the screen. “It can wait.”
Lando looks back at you, eyes darkening. For a moment you think he’ll give in. But then he turns back to the game, hand coming up to adjust his headset.
“Just hang on a minute, bunny. I’m almost done.”
You huff, sitting back. The negligee rides up your thighs. Lando’s eyes dart down before focusing ahead again.
Fine then. If he won’t pay attention to you, you’ll just have to make it impossible to ignore you.
You shift again, this time straddling him completely. The chair creaks louder. You settle against him, arms coming up around his neck. Your lips find his earlobe, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
Lando inhales sharply. “Bunny ...” he says warningly.
“Hmm?” You hum, the picture of innocence even as your mouth continues its exploration of his neck.
Lando squirms beneath you. “The stream-”
“Forget the stream.” Your hands slip lower, dancing along the waistband of his joggers. Lando chokes back a groan. “Or they’re about to get one hell of a show.”
“Now you’ve done it,” he growls, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss.
You melt against him, your fingers tangling in his curls as the kiss deepens. Lando’s hands run up and down your back, slipping under your nightgown to caress your skin.
You break apart breathlessly, resting your forehead against his. “I missed you this morning. The bed was cold without you to keep me warm,” you whisper.
Lando’s expression softens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I just got caught up with the stream and time got away from me.”
You smile understandingly, gently caressing his face. “It’s okay, I know how it is. I just needed my daily dose of Lando.”
Lando chuckles softly. “I’m all yours now, bunny.”
You crush your lips to his. Lando responds immediately, the game forgotten. His hands grip your hips, pulling you tighter against him. Your tongue slips past his parted lips, deepening the kiss.
You give a satisfied hum, rolling your hips experimentally. He’s already hard beneath you. The chair creaks dangerously from your combined moving weight.
Lando pulls back with a gasp. “Wait, the stream-”
You silence him with another searing kiss. “Don’t care.”
Lando gives in with a groan, his mouth moving feverishly against yours. His hands slip back under your negligee, skimming up your bare thighs. You shiver as his calloused fingers explore higher, teasing along the edge of your underwear.
You nibble at his lower lip, reveling in the throaty sound it elicits. His hands grip your backside, guiding your hips as you rock together. The chair jerks and shifts beneath you.
In the background, tinny gunshots and explosions can be heard from the abandoned game. The chat is going wild, viewers trying to figure out what is happening.
Lando’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbles against your collarbone.
“Mmm, mission accomplished then.” You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face back up to meet your lips.
Without warning, Lando stands, hooking your legs around his waist. You cling to him with a surprised squeak. Giggling, you reclaim his mouth.
Lando stumbles forward until your back hits the wall. You gasp as the cool surface meets your heated skin. Lando presses you harder against it, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy and breathless.
His hands ruck the negligee up higher, moving it out of his way. Eyes locked with yours, he slips a hand beneath the lace edge of your panties, fingers exploring-
“Lando!” You gasp, head falling back against the wall.
He swallows your whimpers with another kiss. His fingers set a steady rhythm that has your toes curling in pleasure. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin.
“Yes, Lando, please,” you beg shamelessly.
With a growl, Lando spins you both around and deposits you onto the edge of his desk. Gaming equipment clatters to the floor. The abandoned headphones swing haphazardly from the monitor.
Lando stands between your legs, hands pushing up your nightgown until it’s bunched around your waist. His eyes drink you in.
“Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you are?” He rasps. His hands smooth reverently over your exposed skin.
You loop your arms lazily around his neck with a hum of agreement. “You might have said it once or twice.”
Lando’s eyes sparkle. “Let me remind you again.”
He kisses his way down your neck, over the swells of your breasts, along your stomach. Your breathing turns shallow, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.
Lando pauses, fingers curling under the delicate waistband of your underwear. He glances up in question.
“Please,” you whisper. That’s all the permission he needs.
In one smooth motion he tugs them down your legs, letting them fall forgotten to the floor. Then his mouth is on you, hot and eager. Your head falls back, eyes slipping shut.
It isn’t long before you’re squirming and gasping beneath his ministrations. The edge of the desk digs into your lower back but you hardly notice. Your focus narrows to the feel of his tongue teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves, stoking higher and higher until-
“Lando!” You cry out as the pleasure crests and breaks over you. Your legs tremble, hips lifting off the desk.
Lando works you through it, drawing out every ounce of bliss until you slump back, spent and panting. He presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before rising up to claim your lips.
You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, nails raking over the hard muscles of his back. Lando hisses against your lips.
“This needs to come off. Now,” you demand, plucking at his clothes.
Lando happily obliges. He makes quick work of the buttons before shrugging the shirt off. Next come the joggers and briefs in one go. Then he’s gloriously bare before you.
You spread your legs wider in invitation. Lando steps between them, gripping your hips and tugging you forward until you’re poised right at the edge of the desk. He braces one hand by your head, the other angling himself at your entrance.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he says seriously. You smile, touched by his concern even in the midst of passion.
“I trust you.”
The words are barely out before he’s pushing inside. You both groan in unison at the feeling. He stills once fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust.
Then he draws back slowly before snapping his hips forward. You cry out, fingernails scraping at his back. Lando sets a steady pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.
The desk rocks and squeaks beneath you. Various items cluttering its surface go tumbling to the floor. You vaguely register the background noise of video game gunfire and explosions still coming from the abandoned stream.
None of that matters right now. The only thing that exists is Lando above you, surrounding you, filling you so exquisitely.
You cling to Lando, gasping his name with each deep thrust. The desk continues protesting beneath you, edging closer to the monitors with every rock of your entangled bodies.
Lando’s forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You feel so good, bunny,” he grits out.
You slide a hand into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. He kisses you messily, all tongue and clashing teeth.
You can feel your pleasure mounting again with each drag of his hips. His fingers slip between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight, agonizing circles in time with his powerful strokes.
“Oh god, Lando, just like that,” you whimper, teetering right at the precipice.
With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you tumble over the edge again, vision whiting out. Your pleasured cries echo through the room.
Lando groans as you clench around him. His rhythm stutters and then he’s following after you, warmth flooding your core.
For a long moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing. Lando collapses against you, face pressed into the crook of your neck. You run a hand lazily through his hair, down his back. Your legs are still locked loosely around his waist.
Finally Lando stirs, lifting his head to smile softly at you. “You drive me crazy but god, I love you.”
You grin, pecking his lips. “I love you too.”
With a groan, Lando carefully pulls out and takes a step back. He helps you sit up from the desk. Your muscles pleasantly ache and wobble like jelly.
And that’s when you notice the abandoned game still on screen, the chat scrolling wildly.
“Oh my god, the stream!” You gasp, smacking Lando’s arm. “It’s still on!”
Lando’s eyes go wide. “Shit!” He scrambles for the mouse, finally clicking the end stream button. The game and camera view disappear from the monitor, replaced by Twitch’s home screen.
Lando turns back to you with an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, that’s probably fifteen thousand people who just got more than they bargained for. And god knows how many more hopped on the stream when news got out of what we were doing.”
You dissolve into giggles, tugging Lando back into your arms. “Think we just made their day,” you say with a wink.
Lando smiles and kisses you sweetly. “You definitely made mine.”
***
Lando fidgets in his seat, thumb tracing anxious circles over your knuckles. You’re crammed into a conference room at the McLaren Technology Centre, facing a panel of stern faces.
At the head of the table sits Zak Brown, face like a disappointed father. To his right is Andrea Stella, lips pressed in a tight line. Flanking them are various PR reps, scribbling furious notes about damage control.
“This was incredibly irresponsible,” Zak begins gravely. “Your actions on the livestream could have had serious repercussions for yourself and the team.”
Lando hangs his head. “I know. I’m sorry, I got ... distracted.” At this, his thumb stills its movements, giving your hand a little squeeze.
You bite back a smile, remembering exactly how you thoroughly distracted him not even 24 hours ago.
“You’re lucky we were able to get your streaming ban overturned,” Andrea adds severely. “We made sure to emphasize that it was an accident but you’re on thin ice here. This can’t happen again.”
Lando nods, the picture of remorse. But you can see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights back a grin.
“Are we clear?” Zak presses. “No more surprises on stream?”
You lean in close to Lando’s ear while the bosses stare him down. “No promises,” you whisper mischievously.
Lando’s face splits into a cheeky smirk. “No promises,” he echoes.
The PR team bursts into a frenzy, voicing their horror at his response. But Zak hides his own laugh while Andrea just shakes his head resignedly.
“You’re playing with fire,“ Zak says, but there’s humor glinting in his eyes now.
Lando shrugs, unrepentant. His thumb resumes its distracted movements over your hand under the table. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”
The bosses share a look, accepting that this is the best they’ll get from Lando today. The meeting wraps up quickly after that.
As you exit the building hand in hand, Lando pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“You know, I never properly thanked you for that distraction yesterday,” he says lowly, backing you against the wall.
You bite your lip coyly. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”
Lando’s eyes darken as he braces his hands on either side of your head. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
You melt against him, previous scolding already forgotten. His body presses flush to yours, kiss growing more passionate by the second.
After a long moment, you break apart breathless. Looking thoroughly mussed, Lando rests his forehead against yours.
“What do you say we get out of here and continue this at home?” He suggests, voice gravelly.
You grin, taking his hand to lead him eagerly to the car.
“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” you tease.
Lando chuckles, pinching your backside playfully. “Oh trust me, bunny, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll have at least ten more reasons why.”
“Let’s just make sure the camera is actually off this time,” you laugh. “We can save the encore for after you get your first win.”
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kamiversee · 2 months
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 2 || They're all... hot?
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & smut.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——GOJO'S LIPS FINALLY PRESS into yours. The pathetic hum that leaves you furthers your lingering feeling of embarrassment. Shame is overflowing you as Gojo's soft lips slide over your own. His hand is still around your neck and he won't allow you to move away from him for even a second.
The sensation of his lips parting over your own, your bottom lip getting caught and pulled by his teeth, and the abrupt entry of Gojo's tongue into your mouth has goosebumps rising against the surface of your skin. It's a slow kiss at first, Gojo takes his time licking at the corners of your mouth, taking in the taste of you and savoring the moment of you squirming slightly.
You feel shy as you kiss him back since it's been so long since you've last felt such a connection. His lips are like soft pillows against yours and his tongue is wet and warm in your mouth, a strong mint flavor noticeable as you make out with Gojo.
From your neck to your waist, Gojo moves his hand, soon guiding your smaller body closer to his. His hands are so big-- long and slim pale fingers pressing into the fabric of your small tank top as his mouth works over your own. Gojo's kisses are slow, and tender, almost like he wants to marinate into the feeling of your lips.
When he does pull away from you, his eyes pry open ever so slightly and his gaze is met with a sight that causes his cock to twitch within his pants. Not only are you the sexiest thing he thinks he's ever laid eyes on but when you suddenly move to wrap your arms around his neck, push up on your tippy toes, and initiate the next kiss, Gojo loses his mind.
It's cute the way you have to force yourself up to reach him, attractive how your lips open in expectation of his tongue, and infatuating the way your body feels against his. Gojo can feel everything-- your hard nipples pressed against his chest, the rapid beating of your heart, and the desperation in the way you kiss him.
Your actions are enough to make the man almost feral. His eyes flutter shut again and he suddenly begins to kiss you harder. Air is forgotten as lust sparks between you two. Gojo bends down a little and you feel his hands go to your thighs before he lifts you up into his arms.
You move your hands into his hair, still kissing him as though your life depended on it and feeling the soft strands of white hair brush in between your fingers.
What was once a slow and tender kiss is now a sloppy and aggressive one. Sounds of wet lips moving along one another fill your ears while it feels like Gojo is slurping the taste out of your mouth.
The man wastes not another second as he walks over to your bedroom door with you in his arms, kicks the door shut, and then carries you to your bed. He's gentle as he lays you down, his lips refusing to leave your own just yet. The second your body is laid down and Gojo's looms over your own, you can feel his hardened cock press into your clothed sex, the sudden contact prompting a moan to leave you.
"Mgh," You hum, the sound leading Gojo to pull away from you.
Both of your mouths are still open and his tongue is visible with a string of saliva still hanging down to your bottom lip. Gojo looks absolutely starved, as if another second without the feeling of you would kill him. Beneath low lids is the darkened gaze that Gojo couldn't even control anymore.
Gojo pants lightly, "Hah... fuck." He groans lowly. He then says your name in a tone that gives you butterflies, his voice on the brink of pure desperation.
You swallow, "Hm?"
"Touch yourself." Gojo suddenly orders.
"W-What?" You breathe, your brows drawing together.
The corner of his lips pull into a smirk. "You heard me. I said touch yourself." Gojo repeats to you.
He then moves his hands, taking your wrists and pulling your arms down from around his neck. Gojo pins one of your arms up over your head and releases the other, tilting his head as he peers down at you.
"Show me how you do it," He whispers, his voice heavy in his arousal.
You're too horny to feel embarrassed about it anymore so you bring your one free hand down to your sweats, shifting to remove the item. You struggle at first but Gojo ends up helping you and the lower half of your body is exposed to him once more.
His eyes are glued to the exposure of your wet cunt and his hungry stare alone makes you throb. You carefully move your hand down your sex and touch yourself slowly, running a finger over your clit before slipping it into yourself. You look down at your actions, shifting your attention away from Gojo out of shyness.
Gojo looks at your face, noticing where your attention has gone and he gives you a cocky smirk. "Look at me." He directs.
You have to swallow down all your shyness but you manage to look at the man. The eye contact feeds into your arousal and you finger yourself slowly the two of you hold each other's intense gaze.
After a few thrusts of your fingers, Gojo tuts and shakes his head. "You poor thing." He suddenly voices, "You can't even please yourself correctly."
You clench around your fingers at his words and your thighs threaten to close. Naturally, Gojo doesn't allow you to do so and he lets go of your pinned hand. He grabs your thighs, spreading your legs nice and wide for himself and causing your breath to stutter as those lust-filled blue eyes never leave your face.
"Want me to help you?" Gojo utters with a playful look on his expression. Your head nods in response and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Say please." He requests.
Your voice is small, "Please...?"
The simple word feeds into his ego but, he still plans on taunting and teasing you. You feel his hand lift from your thigh and ghost over your smaller one, soon drawing your fingers out of yourself and raising them to his lips.
He then looks you dead in the eyes as he slides your delicate digits into his mouth, sucking the moisture from your cunt off your skin. Another throb is felt from in between your legs in reaction to the sight. Gojo slides his tongue in between your fingers, the feeling of the wet muscle licking up everything from you adding to the heated feeling of your hormones.
Gojo pulls your hand out of his mouth and saliva is seen hanging. "Say it again," He whispers out in a low tone.
"P-Please," You utter desperately.
He'd only done so little and you could already feel liquids of arousal seeping out of you with each second that passed. You were a wet mess, your body was hot and you were so horny that it was beginning to frustrate you.
He gives you a very satisfied smirk and after one last lick to your fingertips, he releases your hand. Gojo hovers over you, propping his body up with his arm as his other hand moves from your thigh to your heat. Teasing you seems to be his only goal as his slender digits merely rub over your cunt.
"Wow," Gojo scoffs, "I barely did anything to you and you're soaked..." He tilts his head and his smirk is wide, "How pathetic."
He then pushes one long finger into you and you gasp. Gojo shifts down to your neck and despite his harsh words to you, his lips are careful against your skin while he pumps one finger in and out of you. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the side of your neck makes you squirm and you practically spasm when he shoves a second finger inside you.
Sounds of your slick coating his fingers as he thrusts them in and out of you at a steady pace can be heard. Gojo's all over your neck, kissing, sucking, and biting at your skin-- never leaving any marks but simply adding to the pleasure you feel.
"Aah," You moan softly when he abruptly bites down on you harder and curls his fingers inside you.
Gojo then trails kisses downward, trailing wet pecks against your tense skin all the way down to your collarbone. His eyes flicker up to yours as he twirls his fingers inside you, watching closely for your reaction. A whine leaves you and Gojo grins.
He then continues his trail of kisses, going as far as kissing over the top of your shirt and on your chest. You're not wearing a bra so you're not too surprised when you feel Gojo suck on your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. It's a firm suck, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth as his fingers pick up the pace of their thrusts within you.
You move an arm over your lips and moan into it, your sounds growing louder and louder as Gojo works to please you.
The suddenly slightly sharp feeling of his teeth giving your nipple a tug makes your eyes go wide and a whimper leaves you. "F-Fuck," You gasp in shock.
Gojo lifts his head a little, "Move your arm," He directs, his gaze firm. "I wanna hear those desperate little moans of yours."
At first, you don't move, prompting Gojo to slide his thumb over your clit and press down into it. You practically choke on air as you remove your arm from over your mouth. For a second time, your legs begin to draw together and your back aches up off the bed a little. Gojo's thumb starts drawing circles over your clit and the thrusting of his two fingers increases.
"Gojo-," You just barely moan out.
The male kisses over your breast, pretty azure eyes peering at the expression on your face as you get closer to an orgasm. "Call me Satoru," He corrects before moving to swirl his tongue over your clothed nipple once more.
The mix of pleasure you get from his mouth moving over the fabric of your thin tank top is odd. His gaze is so intense and his fingers are working against your insides in ways you don't think you could physically ever do.
You bite down on your lower lip as Gojo's fingers massage your insides, the tips of his fingers kneading into you while his thumb slips over your clit in a way that has your body twitching.
"S-Satoru," You call out, feeling as your climax approaches.
He tilts his head and pulls his mouth away from your chest, "There you go, say my name juuust like that." Gojo coos.
A quivering of your lower lip catches his eyes and he notices the way small whines leave you. "Fuck," You breathe out, "I'm gonna cum..."
The man suddenly leans up away from your chest completely. His gaze drops to the sight of his fingers plunging in and out of you and he moves a hand to palm his erection. A hitched breath leaves him and you can see how needy his face is as he admires the way his digits look sliding into you.
Gojo was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. "C'mon you slut, make a mess of my fingers." He orders huskily.
You allow your eyes to close and one last moan to leave you as you come undone moments after his words are heard. Gojo simply watches you with a satisfied expression while he strokes you through it.
"That's itt," He murmurs. His fingers then slide out of you and he again licks them clean, piercing blue eyes refusing to ever leave your face.
With a sigh, Gojo hops out of the bed and suddenly pulls his phone out of his pocket. You take a minute to get your breathing in check but when you do, your sights go to the man immediately. Anxiety settles within you when you notice his clean hand tapping over his screen and you worry he may have recorded you for a second time.
Your mouth opens to say something about it but you're cut off by Gojo turning his phone off and placing it on your nightstand. His body swivels around to you and he quickly removes his shirt.
"Relax. I was texting Shoko." Gojo assures you. His large hand slides down his body, your gaze following, until he reaches the drawstring on his sweatpants and pulls. "Told her I'd take a bit longer than expected." He says slyly.
You scoff. Words would've left you to respond to him but you were much too busy gawking at his body. God damn, his chest is sculpted to perfection. You can see each cut and crease to his abs and the lower your gaze goes, the quicker you find yourself staring at the single vein trailing down into his sweats and his v-line prominently following that same trail.
It'd be an understatement to say you were drooling from only your mouth. This is the same man who's wanted you for months? Why the hell didn't you notice sooner??
Gojo breaks you out of your daze when he finds himself in the bed again. Now you're looking up into his eyes. "Spread your legs." He voices out lowly.
Your legs spread on his command, wide and mildly desperate eyes focused up on his lustful blue ones. Gojo can't help but smile once he notices your shyness has slightly faded away. He props himself up on one arm again, his other working the lower half of his clothes off.
The eye contact between you two seems to never end. At least, not until he leans down to your ear, "I love girls like you," Gojo whispers, his hands working his throbbing cock out of his boxers, "Always acting so innocent even though this is all you want, right?"
"Hm?" You hum cluelessly in response.
Arms move to go around his neck and you tingle when you suddenly feel the tip of his dick press against your wet folds. Gojo smiles, "Don't act shy now. After all, you fantasized about this."
Your mouth opens but instead of words leaving you, a staggered breath is heard as Gojo rubs his length over your cunt. He's still teasing you even though he's far more eager than he lets on.
The feeling of his lips against your ear while he continues to taunt you with his words only furthers your anticipation. "Shit, look at you now. You want me inside so bad, don't you?" Gojo teases.
With an impatient roll of your eyes, you turn your head to look at him and he seems shocked by your bold gaze.
"Yeah, I do." You whisper to the man, lowering your sights down to his lips and using your grasp around his neck to pull him closer. "Stop talking and fuck me, Satoru."
"So demanding..." He murmurs with a smirk of genuine entertainment smeared across his face.
Gojo wastes no more time as he realigns himself and pushes his cock inside you. The feeling has you gasping and tightening your hold on Gojo in a matter of seconds. Your stomach only churns as the man's length fills you up and he lets out a deep groan in satisfaction-- blue eyes rolling ever so slightly.
Gojo's expression is tensed as he stares down into your eyes. "Fuck, you're so tight," He whispers breathlessly.
A brief smile graces your face and you swear you're in heaven when you hear Gojo moan above you, his dick stuffed deep inside you. His lips brush over your own and for someone who said you moan like a pornstar... his moans were nothing short of slutty and pornographic.
His position has shifted slightly, large body looming over yours and his veiny hands going to your legs to spread them impossibly wider. "Agh... I could cum just looking at you." Gojo groans as he works up a steady pace.
"So soon?" You manage out teasingly.
He scoffs, pulling almost every inch of his aching cock out before thrusting it right back into you. Your little comment goes baseless as moans begin to leave your lips.
Gojo's smirking all too widely. "Don't tease me," He utters, lips ghosting your own for a second.
Despite his words, his eyes were filled with utter desperation. Even as Gojo thrusts into the very depths of your cunt and listened to the sweet moans that left your lips, his expressions couldn't help but reveal how pleasing he found everything.
His gaze trails down your face, capturing the image of your wet parted lips. The sudden urge to kiss you grew strong and Gojo pushed his lips into your own almost lovingly-- the tender gesture meaning nothing as he starts fucking into you rougher.
Gojo's hands are griping into the plush of the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs nice and wide so that he can continue constantly shoving his cock into you despite the way you clench around him. The kiss you share is broken when you feel his tip caress this gummy spot within you, prompting your lips to break from his in a moan.
"S-Satoru," You call out, your brows tensely furrowed as moans follow the man's name in desperation.
His head tilts to the side and you think you see stars for a second when Gojo continues drilling his cock into your sopping hole. He's admiring your facial expression, breathing heavily above you while loving the sweet sound of his name leaving your throat.
"Can't take it?" Gojo teases with the slightest smile on his face.
Before you get the chance to answer his question, he leans his body up slightly and readjusts your legs. An orgasm is drawn out of you the very second one of your legs is tossed over his shoulders and his length mashes impossibly deeper into you.
He slows for only a second to speak to you. "Go on, get nice and loud f'me," Gojo groans one last time before harshly thrusting into you.
To make matters worse, Gojo shifts a hand over the bulge of his tip poking at your skin. Your body is already being jerked back and forth by his pounding and you're slowly fading into this cockdrunk stupor.
As if to follow his instructions, you do in fact get louder, your back just barely arching off the soft mattress and more prominent whiney moans leaving you. Hell, you straight-up whimper when Gojo's hand gives that stomach bulge a slight push.
His moist rosy lips spread into a satisfied smirk, "Shit-, look how deep inside you I am..." Gojo points out purposefully, his words causing your cunt to flutter around his cock.
"Mmgh... S' too d-deep..." You babble, your eyes flickering to the back of your head.
Gojo's arm squeezes around your leg and he only fucks his length into your puffy folds harder. Cocking his head to the side with that awfully attractive smirk on his face, "I don't think m' deep enough," Gojo hums.
He swats his thumb down to your clit and your entire body spasms, instinctively reaching a hand down to move him away. Your fingers are shaking as you try to push his hand off your sensitive bud but all your efforts are useless.
"Move your hand," Gojo scoffs, "C'mon, I know a pretty slut like you can take this much."
You shake your head and whine, "I c-can't-, fuck... mmh, 's too much Toru..."
The nickname catches him entirely off guard. It wasn't like you called him that on purpose either, you just mumbled out as much of his name as you could, unable to speak properly by this point. Gojo had already managed to make you come twice, the fact almost embarrassing to think about since you could hardly do much on your own.
Gojo's hips snap forward a bit harsher than he intends to, the reaction fueled by the overwhelming amount of lust that little nickname you choked out invoked from him. He's full-on panting heavily now with a tense expression on his face as he focuses in on pummeling his stupidly large cock into you.
He's got you sputtering out broken and stuttered moans, water pricking the corner of your eyes while the bed below rocks with his every thrust. You think you lose it when Gojo mewls out the sweetest and yet filthiest sound you've heard from him thus far.
Gojo whines, loud and unapologetically.
The sound alone makes you come undone for a third time. "A-Ah... S-Shit..." Gojo mutters. His head tosses back and you relish in the almost angelic sight of the man-- sweat dripping down his chest and his Adam's apple on full display.
"Been wantin' to fuck you for s' long..." Gojo groans, a slight pitch heard through his voice. "I need you to take all of me," He coos, tipping his head back down to meet your teary eyes. "Oh f-fuck, you can do that, right?" He heaves.
You wish you could've played it off and shook your head yes but you really couldn't. You're clamping around his dick every time he pushes into you and you even try pulling your body away from his to catch a break. This motion only makes it even worse for you though.
Gojo drops your leg when you suddenly shake your head no and he lets out a breathy laugh as you try pulling away from his thrusts. His hands latch onto your hips and he tugs your body to meet his hips.
He only does that for a moment though, hastily leaning down to your ear while his thrusts grow sloppy. He hisses sharply and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head. "F-Fucking hell..." Gojo moans. "M' gonna cum, shit... gonna cum inside you," He tells you.
Your body tenses up and you wrap both your arms and legs around the man, not to encourage his words but just to keep him close to you. "You c-can't.." You whisper in response.
Gojo turns his head so that his lips are up against the crown of your ear, his cock twitching as he strokes your insides aggressively. "I need to. F-Fuck... needa' fill this filthy little cunt," He groans, voice husky and needy.
His length has you feeling full already, easily slipping in and out of you due to your excessive back-to-back release. Even though you told him he couldn't, you're constantly squeezing around him like you want him to. Gojo's moaning in your ear at this point, beyond obsessed with the way you keep sucking him back in.
"Toru' please, I-," Your voice dies out as you moan again, Gojo having pulled almost all the way out and then slamming right back in.
Gojo shifts down to your neck and kisses you briefly. "Lemme cum inside," He requests, another core throbbing whine leaving him. "Hah, a-ah... s-shit, please," He mumbles.
Your nails scratch at his back but, you end up giving in and nodding your head, his seed soon spilling into you. Gojo continued on a bit longer, practically fucking his cum into you until he finally comes to a stop.
The air is still, soft sounds of the two of you panting are heard through your bedroom. Gojo has half a mind to go for another round but, given your tired state, he decides to give you a break.
After a few minutes, the man eventually gets off you and heads to the nearest bathroom-- not bothering to ask you where it is since he seems to have known already.
You're left feeling... content and yet mushy at the same time.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You wait for a bit for Gojo to return to you but you notice he takes quite a while.
Eventually, you sit up and lazily glance in the direction of the bathroom, rubbing your mildly teary eyes. With a clearing of your throat, "Satoru?" You call out.
There's no response.
You worry, panic even.
Could he be doing something? Shit, maybe he did record you...
Maybe he's in the bathroom trying to post or send his video of you...
The second you go to swing your legs off the bed, Gojo walks out of the bathroom, a relaxed expression etched onto his handsome features. He quirks an eyebrow in response to the little glare you have on your face.
"Somethin' wrong?" Gojo asks, smiling lazily.
Your eyes scan his body-- he's still naked but now cleaned of all your remnants. You searched for his phone but his hands were empty and he just looked concerned.
Your scrutiny is interrupted when Gojo steps closer and moves a hand to your jaw, fingers pressing into your skin and forcing your head up. "You really think I'm gonna record you again, don't you?" Gojo quires.
Your head shakes in denial. "No..."
"Thennn why'd you look at my hands?"
"I just... Uhm..." You struggle for an excuse, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.
Gojo finds you adorable. That look of worry in your eyes, the tiny pout on your lips, and the faint fucked out expression going across your features. "You just what? Hm?" He teases, shifting his thumb to your lower lip. "Wanna feel more of my hands? Is that it?" Gojo teases.
You stare up at him blankly, eyes wide as you try to figure out how to respond to him. "N-No..." You mumble.
He flashes you a smile and weighs your bottom lip down, leaning his face closer to yours, "I can give you more if you want."
An innocent head shake is given to him and he lets out a soft laugh. He lifts to place a kiss to your forehead, "Alright then c'mon, let's get you cleaned up."
You give him a little nod, thankful that he's leaving you alone for now.
In the bathroom, Gojo's teasing you while he cleans you off, throwing you silly remarks when he goes to grab you some new clothes. He's not as bad to be around when he's not blackmailing you and you find yourself smiling a little more than you expected to.
You end up in his shirt after a mini-debate with the man.
"But look how cute you are in it," Gojo compliments. He's leaning his large build against the doorframe of your bathroom, watching you tug at the end of his shirt as if to pull it down more. He's got his sweats back on but he's admiring you in his shirt.
You shoot him a glare, "Don't you need this back anyway? You have to leave."
He chuckles, "Do I?"
"Uhm, yes? Did you forget about Shoko??" You ask him.
Gojo rolls his eyes and shrugs you off. "She'll be fine."
"I..." You sigh and shake your head. "Whatever. Since you're staying longer can you tell me who's on the list now?"
He stands still for a long moment, debating on whether or not he wants to give the list to you yet. After a pause and a shrug, "How about I show you what they look like? Then I'll give you the name of whoever you wanna go after next." Gojo muses with a little grin.
You scrunch up your face. Why can't he just be simple? Another sigh is breathed out from you, "Fine." You hum.
With a nod, Gojo pushes off the door frame and goes to grab his phone. He returns a few minutes later and extends the device out for you. "There's about... six guys. Just swipe through and you'll see." He informs you.
You blink. "Six? I have to sleep with six guys?"
Gojo chuckles, "Well not at the same time... Unless of course, you're-"
"No."
"Alright then relax, you can take as long as you want with each." He tells you with a sweet tone.
You stare for a second, nearly losing yourself in his ridiculously pretty blue eyes. With a slight shake of your head, you look down at the phone, eyes widening with the first male.
You admire him for a second but you're quick to swipe to the next. Each man on the phone is... ridiculously attractive. According to Gojo they all go to your school or have something to do with it so you're surprised you've never seen or heard of these men before.
"Holy shit." You breathe, glancing up to Gojo. He's not smiling like normal but he looks interested in what you have to say. "Why didn't you tell me they were all hot?!" You huff.
He scoffs, "You didn't ask."
"I-," Your eyes roll, "Right. Anyways, I wanna try this guy," You say as you turn the phone to him, your choice of words making it seem as though the men were food or objects for you to pick from.
Gojo smiles at the man on the phone. "Y'know of all the guys there, you chose someone that might actually be easy for you."
Your eyes light up, "Really?"
He nods, "Mhm, that's my best friend."
"Oh... W-Wait," You flip the phone back to yourself and narrow your eyes. "This is the guy that comes over with you sometimes?!"
Gojo's smile is continuous as he peers down at you. Every little thing you say or do is so enamoring to him. "Yeah, that's Suguru." He hums.
"And I get to fuck this guy?" You say almost excitedly."Well, he doesn't sleep around with just anyone but for you..." Gojo tilts his head to the side and ogles your body, "Yeah, I'd say he's probably at a medium difficulty level..."
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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1K notes · View notes
ryukatters · 9 months
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don’t go - k. bakugo
a/n: I’m so horny for this man I can’t even think straight. This was supposed to be short and fluffy but now it’s turned into this. I would say sorry but I’m not. (Yes I am alive)
pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader
wc: 1.5k
content/warnings: smut, unprotected morning s*x, begging, overstimulation, bkg is obsessed with you, also completely not proofread
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Your boyfriend Katsuki is clingy. Very clingy— in all senses of the word, and you’re convinced that if you open a dictionary right now his name would show up as the very definition of it. Bakugo would live under your skin if he could, or at the very least come up with a way to keep you in his pocket. 
As lovely as your boyfriend is, his innate urge to smother you in affection poses a problem in times like these— early mornings where you have to get up and get ready for work. 
“Katsuki, I need to go to work. Go back to your side of the bed.”
“Just quit,” he murmurs, “I’ll take care of ya.” 
“As appealing as that sounds, no. I need to get up and do my part as a functioning member of society.” Any attempt to leave your shared bed is shut down by Bakugo, his strength easily overpowering yours as he wraps his arms around you and lays on top of you. 
“But you’re my pillow,” he says with a bit of a sigh, pressing his into the crook of your neck, melting further into you. His hot breath tickles your skin, and it’s enough to have your heart pounding along with a familiar warmth in between your legs. Katsuki is observant to a fault, he knows you better than the back of his own hand, and knows just what to do to turn you into putty. 
His hands snake up under your (read: his) shirt, kneading your breasts. You let out a sharp gasp as he tweaks your nipples and sucks a love bite at the junction of your neck. He hums in appreciation as he slowly leaves a trail of wet kisses down your stomach, stopping just as he reaches your underwear. 
He traces your slit, eyes darkening as the fabric begins to dampen with your slick. “So wet for me already, baby.” It’s not a question, it’s a fact that he already knew. Katsuki wastes no time sliding the garment down your legs. He takes a moment to run his hands up and down both your thighs before prying your legs further apart, exposing yourself to him completely. He can feel his mouth water at the sight of you. 
Katsuki can’t help but moan the minute his lips attach themselves to your clit, sucking fervently. “Always taste so good, princess.” 
You take a moment to glance down, which proves to be a mistake. Katsuki’s practically making out with your pussy, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re nothing short of lovesick. His vermillion orbs draw you in, and they’re absolutely magnetizing. You have to close your eyes to stave off your orgasm for a little longer. 
Katsuki can’t help but grind against the edge of the bed to feel some sort of release. He’s so fucking hard. He thinks he’s growing delirious. Katsuki swears he can cum from the taste of your pussy and the sound of your angelic voice filling the room with a sweet symphony. When you let out a particularly breathy call of his name, he has to will himself not to finish in his boxers, which is already usually a difficult enough task on its own, but now it's almost impossible from how impossibly hard he is with morning wood.
You grind against his mouth, hands carding through his hair as your orgasm rapidly approaches. Katsuki is more than eager to be used as a means of getting there. Even as you cum, he continues to fuck your hole with his tongue and lapping up your pussy. It’s only when you begin to push him away does he feel the need to lean back, a loud pop reverberating as he does. 
“You gonna be a good girl and let me take care of ya?”
“Mmm, fuck. Yes, ‘ki.”
“Good girl,” he coos, his lips pressing against yours with fervor. You allow him to deepen the kiss, sucking on his tongue. He moans appreciatively, hips stuttering as he continues to grind against you. The head of his cock bumps against your clit over and over, smearing precum all over your pussy. His tip just barely presses against your fluttering hole, and you can feel your insides ache with anticipation and utter need.
He’s teasing you. You’re overstimulated yet somehow unsatisfied. Your pussy is craving to be stretched out, and Katsuki is making sure he’s doing everything but that. He likes getting you like this— needy, clingy, nearly delirious as you beg for him. He likes to think of it as reparations for how insane you make him feel on the daily. 
You’re not sure how much more you can take. 
“Katsuki, please,” you whine, lifting your hips to grind against his dick, hoping to get what you want, what you need. You look up at Katsuki and for a moment, you think you’ve got him— think that you’d be able to look at him with those doe eyes and get what you want easily, like always. He never could refuse you.
But he merely smirks, and uses one hand to press you back down into the mattress. 
“Tell me what you want, princess. You know I’ll make it good for you.” 
“Want you to fuck me, ‘ki.” 
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whine sweetly. 
“I’ll give you what you want baby,” he affirms, the timbres of his voice reaching the depths of your soul. He uses both hands to press both of your legs by your shoulders, cock lined at your entrance. I always do, don’t I?
You can’t stop the moan that tumbles out of your lips as he fills you up. Katsuki presses a kiss against your forehead, relishing in the way you tighten around his dick. 
The familiar coil that’s been forming in your tummy is threatening to unravel, if your stuttered moans and breaths are any indication. Katsuki seems to know this too, as he pulls out right before you hit your climax. You whine at the sudden lack of overwhelming pressure, and Katsuki’s quick to silence you with a hard stare. 
His breath ghosts against your lips, vermillion eyes burning into yours with intense, unspoken passion. “What’s wrong, princess?”
You shake your head in the negative. “Wanna cum, Katsuki. Please.” 
He starts thrusting again, slowly and with purpose. His eyes never leave yours. It doesn’t take long for you to be on the brink of an orgasm again. “You want to cum, right baby?” He smiles when he sees you nod. “You can cum,” he says carefully, “but only if you do one thing for me.” 
“I’ll do anything Kats,” you manage to choke out. Katsuki continues to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You really would do anything, Katsuki’s own desire and utter want for you is so persuasive that you feel compelled to follow. 
“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips pressing a chaste kiss against yours. “Stay with me, today.” There’s an urgency behind his words despite them being said so softly. 
Fuck it. 
You barely manage to let out a stuttered “yes, ‘ki,” before you reach your peak. The pleasure rolls over you in waves, tears threatening to spill as Katsuki continues to drill into you, chasing his own high. A few particularly rough thrusts punctuated by staggered moans let you know that he’s cumming. 
Katsuki manages to plop right next to you, bed shifting under his weight. You lock eyes as you both try to catch your breaths. He gives you a quick smile before pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, one arm wrapping around you to pull you against him.
“So…” he starts, his eyes brimming with satisfaction, lips upturned into a smirk. He knows he’s won. “Ready for round 2?”
5K notes · View notes
bleubrri · 1 year
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۪۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ — ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ
ft daichi / tsukishima / ukai / ushijima
summary: haikyuu boys realising they have a thing
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༄ؘ ˑ SAWAMURA DAICHI — MARKING
running your teeth over the calloused tips of his fingers before taking them into your mouth is something daichi is used to. what he’s not used to is the feeling of your hand replacing the heat of your mouth, pumping him with languid strokes while you sink your teeth into his hip and bite. a strangled sort of noise leaves him, like he can’t decide whether to yelp or moan.
“what are you doing?”
“sorry.” you flash him a sheepish smile and press your lips over the reddened indents of your teeth. something swirls in his gut and daichi can practically feel his pupils dilate at the sight of the shallow imprints of your canines in his skin. claiming.
“no it—” he swallows thickly, broad chest heaving when you squeeze him at the base. your cheek is resting against his thigh, his aching length obscuring his view of your doe-eyed expression. “feels good.” he says, slipping a hand into your hair.
“really?” you look proud, eyes twinkling with delight as you trail your lips across his skin.
“mm, will you do it again, baby?”
this time, you can feel his dick twitching in your grasp when you nip at the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. you’re jerking him with slickened strokes, your other hand caged between the mattress and digging crescents into his ass.
your mouth feels like it’s everywhere, and when he’s coming down from his high, spent and coated in a sheen of sweat, it looks like you have been: the corded muscle of his thighs is tender to the touch and covered in bruises. hues of raspberry and darkened plum sucked into his skin and teeth marks glistening with saliva that he wears like a badge of honor.
༄ؘ ˑ TSUKISHIMA KEI — HAIR PULLING
honestly, he has no idea what he’s doing. he’s never gone down on anyone before, but it’s easier than he thought, and you seem to be enjoying it. he’s hesitant at first, just exploring your folds, running his tongue along every part of you until he finds something that makes your breath hitch. you’re so.. receptive, muffled sounds of pleasure slipping from your lips and guiding him to focus in on what you like.
he makes a very interesting discovery when he curls his tongue inside you and you clench around him, a hand flying into his hair and gripping blonde locks between your fingers. he blinks, does it again, and you sing for him.
“fuck, tsukki, right there—” your nails are grazing his scalp as you tug him closer and he shivers, grips your hips and lets himself be shoved further into your cunt. his spine is tingling, nose pressed into your clit as he buries himself in your pussy and maps out your insides until your soaked walls are moulded to the shape of his tongue. he’s groaning into your heat when the flavour of you bursts across his tongue, lapping at your release and urging you to tug.
he mumbles something that gets lost in the lewd slurping between your legs, and when your hand slips away and you start to wriggle from his grasp, he snaps his head up and yanks your wrist back into his hair.
“harder.” he repeats it with so much fervour that all you can do is blink, slowly nodding in a lustful haze and guiding his mouth back to the apex of your thighs.
༄ؘ ˑ UKAI KEISHIN — BREEDING
the room is starting to get so hot that it’s making you lightheaded. ukai is hovering over you, pushing your knees further into your chest with each thrust as you desperately cling to his shoulders. the sticky tip of his cock hitting your g-spot has your nails reflexively dragging along the taut muscle of his back at a pressure that you both know will bloom angry red columns of scratches against his tan skin.
his cum has started to drip down the seam of your ass, sticky ropes of it beginning to coat his balls that press against you when he buries himself to the hilt and rolls his hips. it has your toes curling, your eyes hazy and pussy pulsing so hard you ache.
“‘m full keishi—hah!” you actually jolt beneath him when he presses a calloused thumb into the slick mess of your clit.
“one more.” he offers, “just one more, angel.” and it doesn’t take long either—all ukai has to do is picture you swollen with his seed, full tits and glowing features, and he’s releasing another load into your spent pussy with a drawn out string of expletives.
you’re reaching for him, navigating every hot curl of his tongue in a sloppy connection of your mouths while keishins hips fuck his cum back into you. he can feel your blissful smile against his lips, “that all ya wanted? hm? wanted me to fuck a baby into ya, sweetheart?”
༄ؘ ˑ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — LINGERIE
if he’s being completely honest he rarely pays attention to what you’re wearing before he fucks you—it’s coming off soon, so why think too hard about it? plus, he prefers you bare anyway.
but this, oh he likes this. and you can tell. you watch his adams apple bob when he swallows from his place seated on the edge of the mattress as you step out of the bathroom with a shy smile. you pad into the room, give him a little twirl as you present yourself to him. wakatoshi has to release the sheets clenched between his fists and remember to breathe.
“it’s cute, don’cha think?” you’re glimpsing at yourself in the mirror, adjusting a strap here, plucking at the fabric that sticks to you like second skin. he hums, feeling foolish for envying strips of lace and cotton.
wakatoshi reaches for your hip when you’re in his reach, pulls you to stand between his legs only for you to crawl into his lap. he can feel the heat of you, and if you notice the hardness between his legs you don’t comment on it. you’re nosing at his jaw, and he feels a groan bubbling at the back of his throat when you press your chest to his. nimble fingers tugging at the clasp between your shoulder blades pulls his focus from dragging his lips along the dips of your collarbone. when a large hand closes over yours and guides it away from your back, you fix him with a questioning look.
wakatoshi looks up at you through unfairly thick lashes, his mouth at your sternum pushing fire into your chest.
“keep it on, hm?”
☆ — reblogs / comments are super appreciated<3
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satoruhour · 7 months
Note
Gojo would make such pretty noises if he gets a BJ as he’s waking up
a/n: anon u r so real for this !!!!!!!!! i conquered my 2k essay! but also doin a shorter req bc i got distracted by changing themes and it’s late lol / @jabamin @hannzai @shotorus
warnings: fem!reader, consensual somnophilia, sort of subby gojo but not very established, pet names, oral (m! receiving), finger / thumb sucking, deepthroating, multiple rounds, spitting, sloppy bj sort of, this is what i think he would sound like hehe, n*sfw under the cut
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gojo’s always known he’s the most sensitive in the morning. before you, he’s settled for his hand, feeling around his centre when he wakes up hard and slips his hand under his boxers where it pumps slowly at his shaft. the orgasm always comes too fast and unsatisfactory, though, done more out of necessity than pleasure.
but you? he finds that he never wants to go back to his hand ever again. you treat him like everything good in the world, both with your soft demeanour and your pretty cunt, all for him and yet not at the same time. you’re so pliant and receptive to his touches and still, you have your own agency; you are your own person. that’s what he admires about you.
you infiltrate his dreams like a temptress, heat forming between his legs as he cuddles closer into what he thinks is your figure. there’s fire all over his body and his hairs stand and the trails the blaze leaves seem like fingers. they span his body, heart rate speeding up and he wishes he hadn’t buried his body in the sheets last night. they want to move, but satoru is locked down by sleep and your wandering hands.
“’toru . .” gojo moans at the soft voice that whispers his name in his dreams, unaware you’re doing the exact thing. you’re already drooling at the half-hard bulge that pokes out from below his underwear, clinging to his skin and darkening in colour with each trail of your finger along his body.
so sensitive . .
here, gojo looks as splendid as the morning tokyo sun even if the weather outside struggled to stay stable. the clouds soon hover over the city, pouring down light raindrops and the drop in temperature only makes your boyfriend whine again.
you poke a manicured nail to his length that twitches on its own, pressing and prodding with it and enjoy the soft sounds that escape his lips each time. “baby”, ”princess”, it’s a different name each time for satoru always enjoys referring to you with pet names, and the low raspiness of it only pushes your resolve further—
“it’s okay, sweets, you know you have access to my body. i trust you.”
even with your boyfriend’s authority, you’re still unsure shown in the way your hands hesitantly pull at his underwear. you’re snapped out of your dilemma when a drawled whimper leaves him, whiny and high-pitched in nature that it sends chills down your whole body. there are murmurs of your name on his lips, lingering like the sugary sweets and the saccharine of your kisses. the cold air is simply too much for his sensitive cock, and gojo’s hips buck in cute little jerks.
his length and girth always takes you by surprise no matter how many times you see it, but it feels just a little different when you’re the one to fish it out yourself. satoru is just so hard, pink mushroom tip leaking pre-cum all over his pelvis and a curve to his dick in wanton need.
you let out a breath when your soft hands wrap around his length, at the same gojo sucks in a breath in his sleep — if that was even possible — and tenses his thighs. in his dream you’re doing more than whatever you were doing right now, imagining your pussy wrapped around his throbbing cock.
but you like it slow. your hands drag themselves across his shaft, stroking slowly just to allow him to fully harden and gojo starts to kick his legs slightly, hands have begun to clutch uncomfortably at the sheets. your head lowers to his tip, blowing lightly at the sensitive area and it almost gets him waking completely from unconsciousness. wrecked moans and whines continue to weasel themselves out of his throat, brows knitted and mouth in a temporary ‘o’.
“satoru,” you call, with no intent behind it rather than just wanted to feel the syllables roll against your tongue, “satoruuu . .”
but the mission last night takes a good amount of toll on him. you stick out your tongue to kitten lick his weeping tip and your lover jolts in your hands yet again. it’s so adorable, seeing the normally confident man plead, and he wasn’t even conscious.
“y—yess . .?” you’re unsure if he’s sleep-talking or if he’s really awake but you press on. your mouth suckles on the tip like a pacifier, teasing the most sensitive part of his cock. there, you swirl your tongue around, hands still pumping lazily. gojo’s voice cracks on the next moan, reality sinking in on him bit by bit. you’re relentless, tonguing your muscle along frenulum and around.
and then when you look up, you can see a pair of drowsy eyelids open, looking with his blue eyes through the whiteness of his lashes. it feels like he wasn’t of this world, the initial confusion morphing into recognition and then pleasure —
“ohh . . f-fuuuckk . . ” gojo’s voice shakes as you then descend upon his shaft, warm mouth encompassing every inch of his cock until your nose buries itself in his pubes. the loud moan satoru lets out only makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, sure that your hips were grinding into the sheets. “a-always take my cock so well, shit.”
he’s normally reduced to a state of non-verbality in the morning, but he seems to still have some adrenaline from last night’s mission. gojo’s head meets with the pillow below him, stuck between enjoying how fucking hot your mouth feels versus watching you take all of him down your throat.
you start to bob your head, the gurgling noises along his throbbing length only adding to the lewdness of the scene. he lovingly trails his hand through your locks, brushing back stray hair that interferes with you. they continue to do that (his love knows no ends), undoing the knots in your hair while you uncoil the familiar feeling in his tummy. “baby, baby, baby—”gojo’s eyes squeezes shut and his chest heaves needily with lined sweat, neck straining just to catch a glimpse of how you deep-throat him. your fingers grasp onto his thighs so harshly that they would probably bruise.
you’re keeping eye contact as you come up to breathe while gojo’s hand who took refuge in your hair switches its sanctuary to your face. his heart and dick jumps when you lean into the touch, both your hooded lids matching each other before his thumb runs over your bottom lip. in the rainy morning, you can exchange words without saying anything; you just know satoru that well.
gojo’s thumb traces the softness of your lips before he dips it inside and you take the finger into your mouth willingly, sucking intently as you make the strongest weaker and weaker by you, alone. all he does is spiral, moans transforming into little whines at how you suck on his thumb and it’s off — because then after your mouth closes in around his cock again and he swears so loud it probably reaches the neighbours.
“mmfuuuck—! o-oh my god—” your head bobs again, tongue running along the underside of his cock each time you do, hands moving along the places where you can’t reach and the moans that fill your ears only gets needier and needier. “princess i’m gonna— pleaseplease—!”
gojo has that split second to prop himself up just so he can see you take his cum down your throat, a hand holding your head in place alongise a makeshift ponytail. but your mouth mimics your pussy so well, wrapped snugly around him that he has no time to warn you before he’s cumming deep into your mouth. you jerk in surprise before moaning at the feeling, letting him spurt ropes of cum down your throat as your pace slows down.
“c’mon . . let me see, pretty girl,” satoru assists you in coming off of his cock, and the white in your mouth spills out almost instantly. “aaattagirl . .” your boyfriend grins his infamous lazy morning grin that makes your heart do flips, faltering just a bit when you let his seed drip down your tongue and back onto his dick.
“s’much cum, satoru.” you mumble, intoxicated, fingers connected by strings of his cum and you gather saliva mixed with cum to spit onto his shaft and the gesture is so hot that he needs to see you do it again, and you indulge him — you push out saliva past your lips, a long string before he finally meets his sensitive tip again.
gojo reaches heaven a second time when your hands pick up pace again, slick noises now filling his ears.
“want more.”
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bro it’s like i forgot how to write 😭😭
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princessbrunette · 3 months
Note
sleepy n thinkin ab using rafe while he’s on game!!
he’s too focused to care that you’re just so needy for him, whining and crying because you want him so bad till it gets to the point where you’re splayed in front of him, panties gone n rubbing yourself on his bulge just to feel a little bit better!!
⛸️✧˖°❅🤍
something about his nonchalance only further riles you up. he dodges around your head when you straddle him— hot in the face and teary eyed. you’d become tired of being ignored, but that romantic sickness that swirled in your stomach betrays you, and you miss him despite his presence being so close physically. he’s right there, but he hasn’t so much as glanced at you in hours.
his bulge presents itself to you. it’s always there, thick and prominent in any pair of slacks he wears, even clear in the old pair of grey sweatpants he wears to bed. you wondered why rafe never would be caught dead in the casual garment, being such a popular clothing item to sport among guys his age — and aside from his attachment to old money and being a ‘grown man’, maybe he wouldn’t wear sweatpants out doors because he was afraid of showing too much. after all, you could practically see each vein in his cock through the material.
if ignoring you for a screen wasn’t enough, he wears a headset today too. he’s not even a gamer, he wouldn’t call himself one anyway — viewing it as a hobby to be juvenile and time wasting. however; he was a sucker for 2K, coarse thumbs dashing across joysticks as he swears into the mic, undoubtably bossing topper or kelce about, telling them to pull their weight. classic rafe.
your legs are split either side of him as you find solace in the warm skin of his neck, peeking from the blue t-shirt he wears. he doesn’t mind you, it’s nothing he’s not used to anyway — your clingy and grabby ways catching up with you after an evening of being pretty much ignored for his friends and virtual characters on a screen. you’ve soaked yourself, it’s embarrassing really — how much watching your boyfriend relax and blow off steam can rile you up. like previously mentioned, it’s the lack of acknowledgment too. at this point, you’d do anything to appoint the attention to yourself.
“careful, baby.” is all he offers, barely opening his mouth to say it as he concentrates on the screen. you respond with a pleased hum as you grind on his bulge and he adjusts his headset, sitting up a little straighter with paranoia that his friends might hear. despite this, he continues to play — and you continue to hump him.
it’s clear it feels good for him too, because whilst he outwardly ignores you— he leans back, licking his lips and bucking his hips ever so slightly to adjust his seating, eyes glued to the screen. he even continues to boss his friends around through his headset, but you’re refusing to ignore the way his voice comes out just that bit breathier and slower, playing a little worse on the screen.
he knows when to call it quits on the game — and it’s when you really start putting on a show. you sit back, feet pressed onto the bed as you spread your knees wider — displaying your cunt fully to him as you grind, letting your pleased whimpers free without a care for his friends hearing. you tune in to what he’s saying through the mic as he speaks his farewell.
“alright — hey, i’m goin’. my girls — shutup, topper — my girl needs me. don’t expect you suckers to understand. yeah whatever bro.” you’re not sure what he’s responding to and you don’t care, only whining when your folds audibly part, your stickiness calling to him.
he yanks the headset off his head and looks down on you with a glassy gaze and parted lips.
“you wanna be heard. that right?”
“no, just want you.” you combat pathetically, panting like a puppy as you hump on your boyfriend.
“yeah…” he drawls, grasping a thick handful of your hip, lips shining from his tongue’s coat in the darkened hue of his bedroom. “you want attention. tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”
you pout at this, wishing he’d drop the mean act for just a moment. you can usually work it out of him, keep pleasing him ‘til he breaks — getting soft and sometimes even silly on you. you roll your hips, inspiring a low hum from him now as he helps you along with two hands on your ass.
“maybe i just missed you, rafey.” you groan, high pitched and bordering on pornagraphic. his nose scrunched when his lips part, eyes fixated on the way your folds part around the girth of his shape in his sweatpants.
“so god damn fuckin’ sexy.” he speaks through gritted teeth, and in a split flash you’re on your back — rafe hovering above you with strong greedy hands pinning you down. “gettin’ off on my lap. who’d you think you are, hm?” he hums, taking the lead as he noses at your jaw. there’s a faint clattering of his headset sliding off the sheets but you ignore it, lost in the moment.
“think m’your girl.” you daze, and if there’s any message your boyfriend drills into your head, it’s that his girl is allowed to take what she wants. even from him.
“got that right.” he’s fighting his sweatpants down with one hand, shoving your thighs open with the other. you didn’t need any preparation today, the art of being purely ignored for a game had gotten you as wet as they come.
⛸️✧˖°❅🤍
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karinasbaby · 18 days
Text
lee heeseung — POOL. [4:58 am]
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P. heeseung x fem!reader (+17) | W. mentions of alcohol & a party, unprotected sex, gojou reference, fingering & squirting, dacryphilia, praising + degrading in a way? hee’s cocky & a tiny bit rough, dumbification, slight corruption kink | WC. 1.6k | A,N. quick thought that i had to share, might share more of these while i work on other fics !! also this is for my beloved hana @enha-stars who has been studying & working so hard recently, good luck w everything my beloved :D !!
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alright, maybe telling your boyfriend of one month that none of your previous partners were able to make you squirt in a random party at two am wasn’t the brightest idea.
blame it on the alcohol that was running in your system, blame it on your clumsiness and carelessness or your friends that were asking you stupid questions in front of your boyfriend— whatever, none of it mattered right now.
especially not after heeseung’s entire demeanour changed when you dropped such an unexpected bomb for him out of nowhere.
if it wasn’t for your friend gasping loudly he would’ve never made it out of his shocked state, especially right when his fingertips were about to slip against his cup.
and maybe looking at your boyfriend’s darkened, lust filled eyes with your own drunk and needy ones also wasn’t the best idea you were blessed with today, since it led to you and heeseung’s early departure from the party both of you had agreed to stay till sunrise for.
here you were now, dealing with the consequences of your own actions as heeseung picked you up with ease and guided you towards his lap, heavy breaths along with your whines and his grunts echoed throughout your room, your hot body brushed against his sweaty one, each contact and brush felt like pure fire trickling down your skin.
“fuck— seung, please. it’s not going to happen.” you begged for the fourth time in just the span of one hour as heeseung held his pulsing red tip against your dripping slit, “slow down, baby. we have all day ahead of us, it will happen.” he spoke with a sinister smirk against your neck, a result of your weakened body slumping into his own with the continuous exhaustion building up for you.
a pained moan fell from your lips while he groaned under you, his cock practically bruising your walls at this point with his third entrance, “still so tight for me..” he mumbled, closing his eyes and throwing his head on the back of the leather couch he hastily moved the two of you onto.
his hands gripped onto your hips as his own moved upwards, the familiar feeling of his rushed thrusts made tears spring into your eyes, the release of another climax already building up after the two previous ones, heeseung already had you come undone under him first before moving on to having you scream his name onto the pillow while he pounded into you from behind for the second time.
and now he was guiding your hips to follow his rhythm, head set on one goal and it was to make you squirt for the first time with him, the thought of what your previous partners missed out on and barely put effort in was laughable, he couldn’t wrap his head around the amount of missed opportunities on their behalves and yet at the same time a small part of him was relieved and glad they didn’t.
they just gave him another opportunity to imprint himself more into your mind, really.
and he couldn’t really blame himself for the insane amount of stamina and energy he had right now, your words easily enlivened something deep inside of him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without making you squirt on him, not with the way your words have been ringing in his head since the party.
your arousal that mixed with his own leaked down from your inner thighs onto his, the squelching sounds from the connection point between you two was embarrassingly loud in your ears, and the noises only spurred heeseung further.
he picked up the pace, gradually pounding into you from below while both of his hands gripped onto your ass to guide you with him, every whimper and moan might’ve tumbled past your lips next to his ear but all of it was going straight to his throbbing dick that was abusing your cervix now.
your chest heaved on top of his, breathes short as the only thing in your mind was heeseung’s massive length moulding your walls into his size along with the constant twitching of your legs next to his, you felt the knot curling further in your abdomen, a sudden pressure pooling in your lower stomach that made your grip atop his shoulders tighten, nails softly scratching his skin.
“taking me so well baby.. i know you’re close.” he breathed out heavily from under you, his hair disheveled and shiny around his temples as the dark strands stuck on his skin, more droplets of sweat rolled down his body and onto the leather couch the harsher he moved, desperate to fuck you dumb till you squirted.
you nodded mindlessly along to his words, the only thing your teary eyes being able to make out in the dimly lit room was the frustrating smirk that had been plastered onto his face since you both came back, “you crying?” he taunted, his smile stretching wider when his words made your tears spill past your pretty lashes, his arms then trailed to wrap around your lower back and waist, bringing your face into the crook of his neck while he moved beneath you.
moving one hip upwards while the other one down to angle his cock perfectly inside of your gummy walls and then pummelling his length deep till his tip finally hit that one spot that had you gasp in his hold had him seeing stars, “found it, right?” he drunkenly whispered into your ear, pressing his tip further and chuckling in satisfaction when your legs began to tremble completely under him.
“fucking finally.” he groaned out, not daring to pull a single inch out and only grinding himself against you to keep massaging your spot roughly, his smugness growing at the consistent tightening of your cunt around him, his own delayed release long forgotten in his head as he could taste the feeling of reaching his goal on the tip of his tongue.
god the sounds in the room were filthy at this point, the loud drenched noise of your mixed cum that coursed down your ass slapping against his heavy balls the rougher and shorter he thrusted while he whispered more into your ear made your glossy eyes roll into the back of your head.
he gently pushed your upper body from his, “i wanna see your face when you cum again, pretty.” he cooed, his heavy lidded eyes stuck on your fucked out expression, completely cock drunk and fuck was the sight of your swollen pretty lips, flushed face and wet eyelashes so hot.
his arms stayed around your waist to support you, your hands stayed gripping onto his shoulders to stabilise yourself with your shaking legs while heeseung practically split you open.
“i’m— close. so close.” you whimpered out, voice barely audible making heeseung’s eyebrows furrow while he picked up his pace once again, “oh yeah?” in the blink of an eye he had one of his hands wrapped around your throat as he fucked into you viciously, your gasps and moans instantly dying down at the loud sounds of skin slapping.
“go ahead, baby. cum for me.” he ordered, his excitement evident all over his face and body as his smile widened while his cock twitched, pulsing achingly between your snug walls, the coil in your lower stomach tightened painfully, the pressure and the feeling of your release felt so different to all the others yet you couldn’t focus on anything other than the harsh drags of heeseung’s cock inside of you.
and right when your climax was about to wash over you, heeseung’s arms quickly lifted you up from his length, you didn’t even have the time to process the change before three of his fingers thrusted inside of you making you almost go cross eyed, you cried his name as he began to quickly push his fingers in and out.
small chains of fuckfuckfuck’s spilled past both of your lips, arousal drizzling past heeseung’s wrist as he fucked you on his fingers, his own gasps and moans matching your own, eyes stuck on your shaking form above him as he curled his fingers to press on that spot again, “that’s it right there, isn’t it?” he teased, chuckling at the way your jaw went slack at the pleasure seeping through your every vein while he kept thrusting his fingers before your climax finally washed over you mere seconds later.
your body fell atop his while you finally squirted all over his abdomen with moans and mewls of his name reaching his ears and shit was heeseung gone. “good fucking girl..” he grunted under you, his eyes darkening at the sight of the puddle forming on top of the leather, fuck how was he ever going to not have you squirting all over him like a fountain after this?
heeseung felt himself falling in love all over again at the sight of your back arching in his hold, wetness gushing down his forearm with your legs jerking on either side of his hips, the pressure he felt from your cunt only made him thrust back harder making your vision cloud more.
there was absolutely no way that he didn’t just develop a whole obsession in mere seconds.
your mind went numb as he fucked you through your shaking orgasm, slowly beginning to overstimulate you, “no— hee, please no” you sobbed, tears dripping onto his chest while his hands continued to fuck you through your orgasm and begin to pushing you into another one.
“baby, how can i stop after you just did all that?” he spoke with an incredulous expression, how could you ask him that when he just found his newest addiction? as if he wasn’t already addicted to the sweet flavour of your cunt and your warm wet walls now you also were overflowing around him like this and expecting him to stop?
“i’m gonna have you do that again on my dick this time.” he smiled at your heavy lidded and exhausted eyes, finger slowly coming to a stop inside of you while his other hand pushed your head onto his chest again, “like i said, we have all day.”
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a, note. this is my eid gift for everyone :D really going back to horny hours w this one so hope u enjoyed !! (this is not proofread !!) <33
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mellowswriting · 10 months
Text
the sweetest dream
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pairing || Miguel O’Hara x f!Reader
word count || 1.5k
summary || Miguel comes home to find you sleeping peacefully on the couch. He can’t help himself. 
content || SMUT, somnophilia, oral (miguel eats that 🐱 while ur sleeping), rough needy sex, creampie, Miguel is pussy whipped!!!
a/n || saw ATSV twice just for this man
Miguel Masterlist  |  Masterlist 
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It’s late when Miguel finally walks through the front door - later than usual. Nothing quite went to plan today. A series of fuck ups left him scouring an alien world for an anomaly that should have been a quick and easy grab. Hours later, he stalks into his apartment with leftover adrenaline still boiling just beneath the surface. The sight of you sprawled out on the couch is the only thing that keeps him from slamming the door behind him.
You must have fallen asleep trying to wait up for him. It eases some of that tension that still plagues him. A sigh heaves through him as he drinks in the image you make. It would make him smile if he wasn’t still so tense. You look so peaceful and soft, only wearing a tank top and panties that leave so much bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. He missed you. All day, throughout all of the bullshit, all he could do was think about how much easier it would be if you were by his side. His partner in all things.
Miguel’s fingers trail over the curve of your hip contemplatively. He knows he should just carry you to bed, wrap himself around you, and let you both get some rest. He knows that. But the temptation of your body, so soft and sleepy and pliable… he doesn’t know how to resist. His fingertips glide up your inner thigh and you sigh softly, your legs spreading for him almost on instinct.
“Fuck, baby…” Miguel murmurs in a low, aching tone. He braces one knee on the cushion and flattens his hands on each of your thighs, eagerly spreading you further to satiate his growing greed. A broken sound leaves him at the darkened spot on your underwear. He can’t stop himself from rubbing you through the soft cotton and watching that wet spot grow. “Dreamin’ about me, aren’t you?”
You make another soft, sleepy sound that sends arousal pulsing through him. He’s careful as he tugs your underwear down and discards them on the floor. He doesn’t want you waking until you’re desperate enough to whine and tremble for him just how he likes. His fingers stroke your clit in slow circles, marveling at how wet you get from the simplest of his touches. Every little sound and shudder he draws from you melts that tension in his muscles a little more.
Miguel hovers over your prone body with a possessive, aching need to take, take, take. The tank top shreds with a simple swipe of his claw and he can’t help the shiver that rocks through him as he watches the cool air flush across your bare skin. He leans into the impulse and lets his suit disappear, his hand automatically wrapping around his leaking cock. He strokes himself in a loose fist - any more would be too much. He’s already on edge just from the sight of you. He trails sloppy kisses between your breasts, licking and sucking the familiar taste of your skin. Feeling you, tasting you - it calms the crazed beast that has been pacing like a caged animal in his mind all day. His fingers tweak your nipple and you shift, subtly pushing your chest into his touch before settling back down. So needy for him, even in sleep.
It drives him fucking crazy. Miguel shoves himself down the couch with little finesse, too desperate to bury his face between your thighs. A low growl emanates from his chest as he finally gets a taste of you - that addictive taste of sweat and woman that makes him insatiable. His tongue finds your clit with practiced ease, his eyes falling closed as he sucks that sensitive nub.
The sound of you gasping out his name in a sleep-roughened voice is the sweetest sound to ever grace his ears. His hands wrap around your thighs in a possessively tight grip as they begin to quiver. He watches through half-lidded eyes as you emerge from the last dregs of sleep and bloom with pleasure. Pride and love unfurl in his chest, a warm flush of affection that he can never seem to get enough from.
All that exists in this moment is you: your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips rolling into his face, your choked moan as he slips two thick fingers into you without warning. Every other universe, every threat to the canon - none of it fucking matters. Not when he’s got your perfect cunt soaking his face and fluttering around his fingers. This is when he would work you up nice and slow, drawing you so dangerously close to that edge before pulling you back from the precipice just to hear you beg. He would rest his chin on your belly and watch you beg for it with that cocky smirk on his face. But not tonight.
Miguel curls his fingers in time with the messy licking and sucking of his mouth. His free hand massages your thigh as you tremble beneath him. Just when you would expect him to slow down and ease up on you, his pace doubles. You inhale sharply and tighten your grip in his hair. Your sweet little murmurs of fuck, fuck, fuck, only encourage him. Slick clings to his face and runs down to his wrist in wet trails, and Miguel can’t stop himself from grinding his hips into the couch. Just seeing you like this, so close to falling apart for him, is enough to make him damn near come untouched.
You don’t need to say anything for him to know you’re close. Miguel has spent so much time with his hands on your body that he knows every inch by heart. Every swirl of his tongue and stroke of his fingers is perfectly designed to make you fall apart for him. He drags you over the edge with deliberate strokes of his tongue and fingers, and he revels in the moment that you finally break. He can’t imagine a better way to go than being suffocated by your thighs or drowned in your slick.
It isn’t until you push him away, shivering and a little overstimulated, that Miguel actually relents. He eases his fingers out of you and kisses his way up your body, paying special attention to all those little spots that make you yelp so adorably.
“Welcome home, I guess.” You tease in a sleep rough voice.
“Missed you.” He murmurs against your neck where he trails desperate, sloppy kisses. His hips rock into you, his cock rutting hard against your thigh. “Can I? Please, I just - fuck, I need you so bad, baby. Been thinkin’ about this pretty pussy all fuckin’ day…”
“Come on, pretty boy.” You nuzzle your face into his jaw. Finish what you started.”
Miguel takes the allowance and runs with it.
He threads his fingers through yours and pins your hand to the couch as he sinks into your soft, wet cunt. The last thread of his reason fractures at the feeling and his hips snap forward so hard you lurch up the couch.  Before he can try to rein himself in, you level him with a look that ignites his very soul. Fire burns in your eyes, pure lust and desire that has your teeth gritting and your hips rolling to meet his. A look that dares him to take, to fuck you like he needs to. He’s never been one to step down from a challenge.
The pace he sets is devastating. Sweat slicks every inch where your bodies meet. His body is pressed so close to yours that he grinds against your clit with every thrust and he can tell how close you are to coming again. You curse him as his cock shoves against something deep and so impossibly good that it hurts. Miguel doesn’t relent. He isn’t much further behind and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t work another orgasm out of his girl before this is over. He shifts the angle of his hips just so and you convulse around the thick of his cock. Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulder and you throw your head back with a broken cry.
His hips slam into you with every growled word: Good. Fucking. Girl. He buries almost painfully deep as pleasure snaps in his belly, molten and all-consuming in the heat of your cunt. Every pulse of his cock sees him melting a little bit more into you, his weight only supported by one teetering elbow braced in the cushion. His hips still jerk, forcing the cutest whimpers out of you. He chases after your sweet little sounds, tongue dipping into your mouth for the slightest taste of that honeyed pleasure. Your fingers thread in his soft curls The kiss is almost… tender. As if he didn’t just fuck the absolute shit out of you.
You hum, a happy little rumble that almost sounds like purring. “Missed you too, Miggy.”
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utterlyazriel · 4 months
Text
an eternity, my love
eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)
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How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?
When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.
Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.
Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?
You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.
With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.
You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.
Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.
He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.
You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.
After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.
Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.
The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.
And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.
Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.
Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.
You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.
It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.
He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.
Your heart burns.
In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.
It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.
It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.
Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.
Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.
Ruination be damned.
Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.
You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.
Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.
But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.
The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.
An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.
He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.
All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.
It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.
And then, he remembers the pang of fear.
He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.
"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.
You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.
"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.
He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.
Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.
The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.
Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.
Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.
“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.
You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.
“Who says I’m nervous?”
Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."
There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.
"I can feel it.”
Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.
"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.
"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.
Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"
You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.
"Brussels sprouts."
Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.
"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.
"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."
He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.
You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.
The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.
Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.
Firstly, he's terribly quiet.
Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).
With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.
You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.
There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.
He doesn’t touch you.
Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.
His hands reach out but they do not find you.
At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.
Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.
The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.
As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.
Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.
And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.
A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?
Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.
Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.
The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.
It's a decidedly Azriel thing.
He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.
As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.
It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.
So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.
"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."
My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.
It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.
It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.
It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.
You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.
There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.
Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.
Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.
Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.
Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.
"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."
You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.
"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.
You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.
As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.
"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."
The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.
"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."
You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."
Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."
"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."
Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.
"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"
There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.
One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.
"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."
You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.
When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.
"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.
It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.
Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.
Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.
It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?
“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.
“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”
Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.
On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.
Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.
You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.
Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.
And then— then, you see it.
Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.
You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.
It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.
He doesn't touch you.
The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.
His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.
You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.
"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.
"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."
It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.
You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.
You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.
The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.
And like always, you never hear him coming.
"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.
You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.
He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?
His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.
Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?
"Please," He tries his words again.
His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.
"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."
You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.
"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."
Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.
You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.
Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.
All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.
Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.
You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?
You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.
"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.
"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.
"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”
You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.
"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."
Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.
"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."
“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.
"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.
Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.
"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"
"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."
His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.
The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.
You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.
Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.
He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.
Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.
"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"
"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.
But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.
"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.
"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.
"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."
You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.
"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”
Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.
“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.
“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.
“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”
Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.
“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.
“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”
And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.
His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.
It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.
Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.
He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.
Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.
“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.
“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.
“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”
Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.
some people i thought might want to be tagged :)
@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares
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pucksandpower · 2 months
Text
I Have Needs Too
Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri
Summary: an old sports superstition claims that abstinence can help maximize athletes’ performance … your boyfriends decide to give it a try, much to your chagrin
Warnings: 18+ content
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“I’m going to explode!” You whine dramatically, flopping down on the couch between your boyfriends. They exchange amused glances over your head.
“What’s wrong, love?” Lando asks gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
You huff in frustration. “You know exactly what’s wrong! It’s been weeks since we ...” You trail off meaningfully, raising your eyebrows.
Oscar chuckles, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on now, it’s not been that bad.”
“Easy for you to say!” You retort. “You two have your racing to distract you. I’m stuck here all day, bored out of my mind and craving attention.” You pout at them.
Lando shakes his head in mock exasperation. “We talked about this, darling. The abstinence has really helped our performance lately.”
“I know, I know,” you sigh. “And I’m so proud of how well you both are driving this season. But ...” You bite your lip, gazing up at them beseechingly.
Oscar brushes a thumb over your cheek. “We understand it’s not easy, babe. But just be patient a little longer. We’re doing this for the team.”
You nod reluctantly, nestling into Oscar’s shoulder. His warmth and familiar scent are comforting, even as your body craves more.
“Why don’t we watch a movie to take your mind off it?” Lando suggests brightly, grabbing the remote.
You suppress a grumble. As if anything could distract you from the delicious men on either side of you. But you acquiesce for their sake, snuggling into Oscar’s side as Lando queues up an action comedy.
Twenty minutes in, you’re fidgeting restlessly, acutely aware of Oscar’s fingers trailing idly along your arm. You glance over at Lando to find him watching you, mirth dancing in his eyes. Your breath catches at the heat in his gaze.
Unable to resist, you reach over and trail a finger down his chest suggestively. Lando inhales sharply, his eyes darkening. Beside you, Oscar goes very still.
You bite your lip coyly. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider this whole abstinence thing?”
Lando swallows hard, his eyes raking over you hungrily. For a moment you think he might give in. But then he shakes his head ruefully. “You know we can’t, love. Just try to be patient.”
You huff in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest. Oscar squeezes your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s only a few more weeks till the season ends.”
“A few weeks too many,” you grumble. “I have needs too, you know!”
Lando chuckles, the sound sending a spark down your spine. “Believe me, we know. And we intend to take very good care of those needs once the season’s over.” His heated gaze leaves no doubt as to his meaning.
You bite back a whimper, arousal coiling hot and heavy within you. “Promise?” You breathe.
“Promise,” Oscar murmurs lowly in your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps on your skin.
You suppress a shiver with effort, knowing you won’t get any further with them today. With a dramatic sigh, you settle back against Oscar, trying your best to focus on the movie.
But as the minutes tick by, you grow increasingly restless. Oscar’s solid warmth against your side only fuels your rising frustration. You shift, crossing and uncrossing your legs in an effort to relieve the building ache between your thighs.
Oscar glances down at you, one brow raised knowingly. “You alright there?”
You bite your lip. “I’m fine,” you reply tersely.
His mouth twitches in a hint of a smile and he resumes watching the movie, his arm a tantalizing weight across your shoulders.
You do your best to keep your eyes on the screen, but your thoughts keep drifting to much more pleasurable images — memories of your boys’ hands and mouths lavishing you with attention. You clench your thighs together, suppressing a whimper.
Gradually you become aware of your hand drifting higher up Oscar’s thigh, seemingly of its own accord. You freeze, snatching it back, your face flaming.
Oscar looks down at you, his brown eyes darkening subtly. “Y/N ...” he begins, a note of warning in his tone.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” you babble, avoiding his heated gaze. “I just … I can’t help it, Oscar, I need ...” You trail off helplessly.
His eyes soften and he brushes a stray lock of hair back from your face. “I understand, love. Just try to hang in there a little longer.”
You bite back a whine of frustration and force yourself to sit on your hands, determined not to let them wander again. But as the minutes pass, you grow more and more antsy and on edge. Your whole body feels like a live wire, hypersensitive and aching for their touch. Unconsciously, you press your thighs together again, seeking some form of relief, but it’s not nearly enough.
Abruptly you get to your feet, ignoring Oscar’s questioning look. “I just … need some air. I’ll be right back.” Before he can respond, you hurry from the room on shaky legs.
In the bedroom, you begin pacing agitatedly, running your hands through your hair. This is torture, plain and simple. You’ve never felt so pent-up and on edge in your life. Surely no one could expect you to hold out much longer under these conditions?
Your gaze falls on the bed and you freeze, a reckless idea taking shape in your mind. No … you couldn’t possibly … could you?
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you shut the door behind you as quietly as you can. Then you begin shedding your clothes hastily until you’re down to your underwear.
You stand there a moment, nibbling your lip uncertainly. But the throbbing ache between your legs wins out over your hesitation. Taking a deep breath, you slide your underwear off and climb onto the bed.
Propping some pillows up against the headboard, you lean back and let your legs fall open. Your fingers trail teasingly up your inner thighs and you have to suppress a needy whimper. Slowly, watching yourself in the mirror across from the bed, you begin to stroke along your slick folds.
A breathy moan escapes you at the exquisite sensation. After weeks of deprivation, your swollen flesh is so sensitive that the lightest touch sends spikes of pleasure through you. As you work yourself higher, you let your eyes slip closed, losing yourself in the building bliss.
You’re so consumed by sensation that you don’t hear the bedroom door open. But Oscar’s sharp intake of breath jolts you back to awareness. Your eyes fly open to see him standing frozen in the doorway, his shocked gaze riveted on where your fingers are buried between your legs.
Heat floods your cheeks but you don’t stop, biting your lip coyly. “I tried … I really did. But I just couldn’t wait any longer.”
Oscar makes a strangled noise low in his throat, his eyes blazing. He takes a step into the room just as Lando comes up behind him.
“Oscar, what ...” Lando begins, then trails off as he peers over Oscar’s shoulder. “Bloody hell,” he breathes, his eyes going wide.
Your flush deepens at their rapt expressions but you hold their heated stares boldly. Oscar takes another step toward you, clenching his jaw.
“Y/N,” he warns in a strained voice. “What did we say about patience?”
You pout up at him beseechingly. “Please … don’t make me stop,” you whimper.
Groaning under his breath, Oscar rakes a hand through his hair. You can see his restraint hanging by a thread. Lando moves up behind him, gripping his shoulders.
“How can we resist when she tempts us so sweetly?” Lando murmurs.
Their hungry eyes devouring you makes moisture flood your aching core. Emboldened, you spread your legs wider, giving them an unobstructed view. Oscar makes a choked noise, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warns through gritted teeth. But his eyes are riveted on your fingers sliding slickly along your slippery folds.
Your strokes increase in urgency as your climax builds, whimpers escaping your lips. “Please,” you gasp pleadingly. “I need you ...”
With a growled curse, Oscar surges forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. His body covers yours and you sigh in bliss, finally getting what you crave. His tongue plunges past your lips, tangling fiercely with yours. You can feel his restraint hanging by a thread in the urgency of his kiss.
Lando joins in moments later, his clever hands trailing fire over your sensitized skin. Caught between the two of them, you’re surrounded by hard muscle and greedy mouths. The sweet relief of their touch after so long has you reeling.
You clutch desperately at Oscar’s back, urging him closer between your thighs. But he resists, keeping maddening inches between your bodies.
Pulling back from the kiss, his eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but firm. “Not yet, babe. You’ve been a naughty girl. Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”
You whine in frustration, arching up against him beseechingly. But Oscar grasps your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head.
“Ah ah, patience,” he chides with a smirk.
Lando chuckles, trailing kisses down between your breasts. “Our minx deserves a bit of torment, I’d say.”
You whimper as their hands and mouths worship every inch of you except where you need them most. They lavish attention on your breasts, your neck, your inner thighs — everywhere except for your poor aching and dripping core.
“Please,” you gasp, writhing beneath their exquisite torture.
Lando looks up at you from between your thighs, eyes dancing wickedly. “Tell me, do you regret being a brat yet, darling?”
You shake your head desperately. Oscar tsks, tweaking a stiff nipple to make you arch sharply. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson quite yet.”
They continue driving you right up to the brink only to back off again and again, keeping you suspended in agonizing arousal. You’re a writhing, pleading mess beneath their skillful touches.
Just when you think you can’t take another second, Oscar’s fingers finally find your slick heat. You cry out sharply, cradled between them as he strokes you with knowing skill. Lando’s teeth graze the tender spot on your neck and you shudder, right on the precipice.
“That’s it, let go for us,” Lando rasps in your ear. His voice combined with Oscar’s relentless rhythm pushes you over the edge with a breathless wail.
You’re still trembling through aftershocks when Oscar captures your mouth again, kissing you deeply as his hands fumble at his belt. Understanding dawns through the pleasured fog in your mind and you still his movements with a hand on his chest.
“Wait,” you gasp out. At his bewildered look you offer a coy smile. “You two still have your little abstinence pact to uphold. Can’t have you breaking it on my account.”
Oscar stares at you incredulously for a moment before huffing out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
Lando groans behind you. “Y/N, love, don’t be cruel ...”
You silence him with a finger to his lips, giving them both a mock stern look. “What? You made a commitment. I won’t have you compromising your performance for me.”
They gape at you in sexual frustration and dismay. Taking pity, you lean in and place a placating peck on each of their cheeks.
“There now, that will have to hold you over. Only a few more weeks till the season ends!” You pat their shoulders consolingly before sliding off the bed on shaky legs. Sashaying your hips, you head for the bathroom, their heated stares like a brand on your bare skin.
Pausing in the doorway, you glance back alluringly. “Of course, once the season ends, we can all properly celebrate … if you’re good boys for me.” You shoot them a cheeky wink over your shoulder, “Cold showers might help until then.”
You suspect you’ll pay dearly for such exquisite torture later on. But their reactions were well worth it. And the countdown to the end of the season has never seemed sweeter.
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moon7jay · 1 month
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we NEEDD jay’s side on the wife swapping 😭🙏🏽
Y'all are greedy (I love it) Read Heeseung's part
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He's got you pressed against him on the dance floor, your ass grinding on his hardening bulge while you pull his arms around your torso. He's more mascular than your husband(Heeseung) , and you love how hard he feels against you. Jay can't help but lean into your seductive aura, burying his nose in the crook of your tempting neck while he moves with you, your plush body feels so good gyrating against his lower half, his fingers twitching in pure need. "You're so big, your wife looks so soft, is she able to take you?" you ask, your siren voice going straight to his cock. Jay groans against your skin when you push your lower half further into him, providing him with the delicious friction he so desperately craves.
"I make it fit, slowly and gently" he replies, trailing kisses up towards your neck till he can bite on your earlobe. You chuckle through a moan, and slide his hands upwards, till his palms are cupping your boobs. "but you don't wanna be gentle, you want to get lost in desire and fuck into a cunt raw till it's throbbing, isn't that why you're here, cuz I can give it to you? " Jay groans and turns you around in his arms, his dark eyes boring into yours while he digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, making your breath hitch.
"Want to force myself inside" He grunts, his hot breath warming your mouth. You bite on your lower lip, and arch your body into his hold, pressing your soft chest against his hard one, making his eyes darken in lust.
"Do it, don't stop even when I cry and beg you to stop, make it hurt, keep fucking into me till your dick's satisfied" you whisper into his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss on his lower lip. He chases right after you, his hungry mouth engulfing yours while you kiss less and bite into each other more, teeth clashing while his tongue tries to fuck your throat desperately, the junction of your mouths slick with spit.
And Oh boy, you don't have to tell him twice. Jay is just a man, and your cunt happens to be his undoing.
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