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#tempo ride
sleepboysummer · 10 months
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i dont know if this was like. obvious but someone in a comment section mentioned how waiting for the drop and uranium suite have the same ending chord progression and it changed my life. you can literally sing them on top of each other
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citrus-blade · 4 months
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I have completed the 5.5 hour drive and am now freeeeeeeee (ignores final due tomorrow at midnight)
What the longest/furthest you’ve driven?
YEEEES!
Ehhh... When I was a child we used to drive to italy over night and drove like 11 hours...? But I was a child then and slept most of the time lol
With my friends I think it was like 5 hours. 2 1/2 hours to drive to a convention in the morning and the other 2 1/2 hours back in the evening. And the same the next day cause hotel were expensive af lol
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quietlydiabolic · 2 years
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“Fork Bomb!” - BassRock short oneshot fanfic
By: Jixie Fandom: Mega Man Classic BassRockWeek​ : September 5 - Stars Rating: G Word Count: 865
- A/N: Includes Blues/Tempo (QuakeBlues?) and implied Rollass. A 'fork bomb' is a type of computer virus.
"'Let's go stargazing', they said. 'It'll be fun', they said." Bass turned his head to look over at Blues and Tempo, too lazy to sit up. He was sprawled out on his back a few feet away from the couple.
It was beautiful out, a perfect starry sky on a perfect summer night. A good location for stargazing… if only that was what they were actually out there for.
"You know I didn't come along to watch you two suck face," he grumbled.
Tempo broke away from making out with Blues, and shot Bass a toothy grin. "It's not like we forced you at gunpoint or anything."
"Hmph."
"He's just jealous," Blues said, although he was teasing.
"Never."
He really should've known when no one else agreed to go along, even though this was exactly the sort of dorky activity that the Light family— the rest of the Lalinde's, for that matter— loved to do. It seemed that everyone had caught on to the fact that 'stargazing' was a flimsy excuse to do 'gross mushy romantic crap like smooch under the moonlight'. Everyone, that was… but Bass.
Which was a little annoying. Maybe more than a little annoying. He had so much trouble understanding these things that seemed to come naturally to others. It wasn't like he could blame it on being built for combat— because in Wily's desperation to replicate Dr. Light's success with Rock-slash-Mega Man, he'd been designed as a surrogate child first and a combat robot second. Bass should've had all the same non-combat abilities that his rival did.
Besides, many of the other Wily Numbers, inferior as they were, had demonstrated a capacity for attraction and romance. Even those that didn't understood it in a way that seemed just out of Bass' reach.
He couldn't entirely blame it on Wily, either. It might have made sense if Wily himself was uninterested in these matters. But the crotchety old man had ranted and raved about the topic just enough to make it clear— it wasn't that Wily lacked the desire for human partnership or physical intimacy, so much as he was too self-absorbed and indifferent to the needs of others to maintain any meaningful connection with someone else.
So, Bass found himself alone in this regard, having never felt so much as a tickle of attraction or romantic interest. The only thing he could possibly compare it to was his complicated feelings about his rivalry with Rock. Rock, who was a gullible, stupid, annoying, obnoxious optimistic do-gooder who somehow always got the best of him no matter how much stronger Bass was than him and it wasn't fair—
—Rock, who never stopped thinking of Bass as a friend even after he'd dropped the charade, who didn't want to fight anyone but especially not him, who was always thrilled when they had to work together and never failed to have his back, who always saw the best in him no matter how rotten Bass was towards him. Rock, who he'd been modeled after and was his reason for existing, which by default made him the most important person in Bass' life.
And as much as Blues had been a good friend and confidant… even guys like Duo, or Tempo, or Fan, or some of the more tolerable Wily Numbers (and DWN-adjacent)… none of them were as kind to him as Rock was. Aside from Roll, now that he thought about it. Roll, the sister Light 'bot, every bit as naïve and saccharine as her brother. In a lot of ways she seemed to represent what might have been if Rock hadn't had to become Mega Man. If anything, the lack of rivalry between her and Bass meant she could act on that kindness in ways that Rock couldn't. Secretly helping him with mods and repairs when Wily wasn't around, cheering him on when she maybe shouldn't have, offering support when even Blues'd officially Had Enough Of His Crap. She was also the only person to have the outright nerve to hug him, and he never quite had the heart to push her away, which meant she kept on doing it…
…Rock had come close, though. How many times Mega Man had approached with arms open, only to stop himself at the last second, knowing how much it would've pissed Bass off.
Lying there, thinking about the lack of romance in his world, a sudden and terrible realization struck him. Bass sat up like a shot and gave Blues and Tempo a frantic look.
"Guys. Um… does Roll… does she have a crush on me?"
"Oh, heck yeah."
"Duh."
"It's super obvious."
"You can see it from space."
Bass grimaced. Unable to help it, he thought about how Mega Man would've been just like his sister Roll if he'd never been upgraded.
"Does… does… Rock… have a crush on me?"
"Oh, heck yeah."
"Duh."
"It's super obvious."
"You can see it from—"
He hid his face in his hands. "Mother hacker— fricken' FORK BOMB! Why me!? Sonnuva glitch— ugh, why do I have a swear filter!? Nnnuuhhhh… What I am gonna do?"
The quiet clear night was pierced by Blues' evil laugh.
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sassmill · 2 years
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I haven’t worked on my German lessons in awhile but y’all the way that Rebecca is helping with my listening comprehension is insane. I know the story so that knowledge plus the expressiveness of the performers means that the more I listen to it, the more actual words I can figure out. It’s also helping with like. The auditory processing aspect because I can hear actual individual words even if I don’t know what they mean. I don’t know if that makes sense but if you’ve tried to learn another language you probably understand what I’m trying to sound. I hear more than mush.
Todays big update is that I actually understand most of the morning room scene, and I had come across very few of those words at the last level I was on with Duolingo. Also QUITE proud of myself for figuring out what Gesellschafterin means just from really focusing and noticing how often I heard it repeated (and in which scenes and by who).
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city0f-dreams · 4 months
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Tag Dump 2: Muse Stuff, Part 1
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yashikatourandtravel · 5 months
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dig1taldrift3r · 1 year
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Bully knot bully knot bully knot bully knot-
Jock bully werewolf who catches you standing outside in the rain, he laughs before offering you a ride... for a price of course.
Normally the price for a ride is good old-fashioned road head, but with the heavy rain and slick roads it's a little too risky for you to be leaning over distracting him with your mouth around his cock, so you'll have to make it up to him another way.
the second the car is in park Ceaser jerks his seat back and down and tugs you onto his lap. Don't be so shy, go on and ride him, he knows you want to, a slut like you is always desperate for some good dick and he assures you that with the downpour no one will see the two of you fucking and besides, you owe him for the ride.
you awkwardly strip and try your best to not hit the horn with your ass, before sitting in his lap again. You don't ride him as much as you hover above his lap and let Ceaser snap his hips up driving his big dick into you. just because you're the one on top doesn't mean you get to be in control or set the pace, He doesn't let his fucken fleshlight control the tempo either.
He digs one of his clawed hands into your hip, the other he uses to wrap around your throat squeezing hard enough to let you see stars then releasing again laughing as you gasp for air.
"Beg me to cum inside of you," he growls, the car rocking back and forth with each powerful thrust of his hips. He lets go of your neck making you a little dizzy with the sudden rush of blood back to your head.
"come on you stupid bitch use that air for something useful and beg for my cum," he spits, you can tell he's close to his orgasm, He'll probably cum soon either way but you obey him
"Please Ceaser- please give it to me,"
He snarls in pleasure as he pushes his knot into you and he cums, you whimper at the full feeling. your thighs trembling. he reaches between your legs stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb.
"shhh, you always whine like a bitch when I knot you, you should be used to it by now. my knot isn't that big is it?" he teases, slowly rocking his hips back and forth as he rubs your clit.
"I-It is big it hurts," you whine which only makes him snicker.
"Awe such poor baby. must be hard being a slut who can't even take a knot properly, I'm just going to have to keep fucking you and training that tight cunt." His harsh laugh is cut off and twisted into a moan when you cum, clenching around his already-spent cock.
"fuck pretty, warn me next time," he gasps. "I should beat your ass for cumming without permission."
"Please don't Ceaser," you plead, falling down against his chest, his swollen knot still stuck inside of you. He rolls his eyes and huffs annoyed. Still, he was feeling generous right this second. Maybe he'd let you keep his knot warm for a little while longer and he'd count that as your punishment.
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kentopedia · 7 months
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♰ his parliament's on fire — dazai osamu
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 1 - nightclub owner!dazai
every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they’d commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai’s.
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, port mafia boss!dazai, port mafia member!reader, bsd typical blood / violence, unprotected sex, established relationship, takes place before doa, dazai & reader are a lil unhinged bc they're in love, praise, soft dazai, riding dazai, sub reader, v slight breeding kink oops — 10.1k
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The music shook your chest as you watched people head to the front of the club for a dance, a combination of those that were regulars, and those who were just desperate to blow their money on an evening in one of the finest night clubs in the country.
It had grown hot in the club, even for an autumn evening in Yokohoma. There were more people filling the tables than usual, standing only to swing their partners around on the dancefloor. A woman sung sultrily to the crowd, a song that you hadn’t heard in ages. Even for a Saturday, it was crowded, the capacity met, and then surpassed, packed to the brim as a group of foreign billionaires weaseled their way in by paying twice the entry fee.
You swirled your glass, sitting alone at the bar with your legs crossed, the tight, red dress rising up on your thighs. Beside you, a man was puffing a cigar, blowing the smoke back in your face so frequently that it took all your effort not to cough. Still, he paid you little attention, too enraptured by a skinny young woman that giggled every time he touched her arm.
A few more individuals made their way to the dancefloor, tracking unaccompanied dancers like prey, hopeful that they could score a partner for the evening. It was amusing, really, how often you’d seen some of the same men come back. They’d throw stacks of money on the table in a desperation to acquaint themselves with beautiful, upper-class women, even if they’d go home unhappy and broke.
Ice clinked against the sides of your glass as the last drop disappeared down your throat, warming you up for the rest of the evening. Already, you had caught the glimpse of several men in the club. But those who knew who you were knew to keep their distance, and they never tried to sneak more than a subtle glance in your direction.
Those who didn’t usually noticed nothing but your striking beauty and the allure of darkness that seemed to follow you. They were drawn to you easily, smiling at you like they were entitled to gawk at your appearance, like it would be criminal for anyone so beautiful to shield herself away from the world.
Rarely did that ever end well for them.
You handed your empty glass off to the bartender—a dear friend that you’d convinced to work for you at the club—and made your way over to the dance floor. The crowd parted for you with quick glances and slackened jaws, stumbling on their own feet to get out of your way. Once you passed, the world seemed to resume itself. Everyone continued about their business, averted their gaze, even if they were careful not to get too close to you.
Something about that made you smile.
For a while, you danced on your own, grinning carelessly to yourself as you twisted your hips, unbound yourself to the music and the alcohol that ran through your veins. It was a different kind of freedom, and though you’d once been wary of the watchful eyes, they no longer bothered you. You loved losing yourself in the rhythm, loved feeling transported to another realm.
The setlist for the evening included a few of your favorites, and you carried on until there was sweat on your forehead, a single bead trickling down your temple, one that you hastily wiped off. Breaths came to you more stiflingly, heaving inhales and exhales that paired with your thirst.
Finally, the tempo of the music slowed, just enough to snap you back into the present, and the energy zapped out of you as your mood darkened. The time of the evening had passed when you realized that it was no longer fun to dance alone.
You sighed, and with a frown, let your gaze trail across the room to find the cool brown eyes that you loved more than the music you spun in circles to. But Dazai was already in a conversation with someone else, tapping slender fingers against his glass full of amber liquid. He listened intently to a conversation between two men twice his age.
Beside him, Chuuya stood at the edge of the table like a loyal bloodhound, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. You caught his eye instead and smiled to him, though not a single muscle in his face twitched. It seemed as though he was intent on keeping up the charade for the evening.
As much as you wanted to smile even more sweetly and taunt him mercilessly, you didn’t let yourself get too distracted. Instead, you refocused your sights on your other goal.
The stocky, tall man was right where Dazai said he’d be, sitting with a couple woman and a few empty glasses in front of him. He had a neatly trimmed, graying beard, sporting a watch that was, at least, a couple million yen.
You caught him watching you over the edge of the table, his smile slow as you bat your eyelashes at him, sauntering past him with a perfectly coy expression. Eyes lingered on the curves of your hips; the smooth skin of your legs revealed by the dress. The lust came in near waves off of him, thick and heavy as they reached you.
It made your job easier, the obvious attraction that they never tried to hide from you. You smiled to yourself, and felt a sense of satisfaction, despite his disgraceful leering.
The seats at the bar had been filled up when you returned, leaving no room for you and your new companion to retreat.
A younger regular, one with an overabundance of nerves and an awkward smile, spoke in hushed whispers to his friend, one that was dressed in a suit far too cheap to be in this club.
You tapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him in the way that had everyone bending over backwards for you. “Excuse me?”
He looked over, irritated for a fleeting second before realizing who it was that had approached him. Immediately, he was to his feet, stammering over a greeting while his friend gawked at him with incredulity.
“Sorry to bother you,” you said, softening your voice. “I was wondering if I could have those seats. I hate to—”
“No, no,” he said, practically shoving the other man away, pushing him out of the chair while he sputtered confused nonsense. “Take them! We’ll be out of your hair.”
You thanked them before placing yourself neatly back onto the stool you’d occupied before. It was far too easy.
The bartender sent you a knowing look, all too familiar with your games, before going back to mixing a drink.
Moments later, you felt the presence of another behind you, an overwhelming smell of tobacco and pine assaulting your senses. He was taller up close, taller than Dazai, at least, and older than you’d originally thought. Deep wrinkles weathered his skin, his eyes, and though there was still a hint of black in his dark hair, it was slowly being overtaken by the signs of a life that was twice as long as yours.
“Pretty dress.” That was the first thing he said to you, letting his eyes wander over your chest, lips curling into an ugly smirk. “It suits you nicely.”
You wouldn’t be won over so easily, so you merely smiled at him, nodding in thanks. Though, that had him coming on twice as strong, as if the simple eye contact that you’d made earlier had been a full invitation to fuck you. He took the seat next to you, signaling the bartender over.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, and though it was a kind proposition, it always made you laugh. You received a million free drinks from strangers here.
Still, you shrugged and let him, unsurprised that he knew what you’d been drinking earlier. It was a clear sign that he’d been watching you since before you even got up to dance.
“What’s your name?” 
“Should I give it away that easily?” Your voice was silky in your response, unimpressed, but luring him in, nonetheless.
He laughed, and offered you his own instead, Tanaka, as if you didn’t already know it. You’d been planning on springing him into this trap since the moment he’d arrived that evening. It was a target and a plan that had been set in motion for days.
His grin was uncomfortable, but he thought so highly of the way his lips curled, seemingly luring you in.
In reality, you weren’t sure how any woman could stand to get down on her knees for that.
Half an hour passed as you talked with him, preening under his endless string of compliments, wishing that you could string him on for a little bit longer. You enjoyed the words well enough, just another thing to stroke your ego, but the minute he moved closer, you inched away, placing distance between you before he could touch you.
It was obvious it frustrated him, but one look at the flash in his irises had you knowing that he enjoyed the chase.
He droned on, careless conversation about hobbies you didn’t want to understand, and though you smiled, pretending to be interested, your focus drifted to the table where Dazai sat.
His conversation had shifted to Chuuya, the two other men from earlier gone. It seemed strained between them, sharp words spoken as they glared at one another, visibly at odds about something.
Despite the clear dispute, anger cleared away from their expressions within seconds, Chuuya straightening like a board beside his boss once again.
Dazai looked up; it was less than a second that your eyes met, but your knees had weakened, heart stuttering in your chest as it skipped a pulse.
A soft exhale left you, and you longed for Dazai, craved the feeling of his strong palm on your skin, the kiss of his lips on your neck. You had half a mind to say fuck the mission and walk right over to the table and plant yourself on his lap.
It would certainly cause a scene, especially when there were so many new customers there who knew about Dazai but didn’t know about you.
Still, you knew Dazai wouldn’t object. He’d merely smile into your hair and curl his hand around your hip, continuing on with his conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.
You looked away. If you were to make it through the rest of the night, you couldn’t get distracted by the beautiful man just feet away from you. “Sorry,” you said, turning back to Tanaka. “What were you saying?”
His interest in conversation had already waned, and he faced Dazai, displeased by the uptick of fascination within your expression. “Found someone more interesting already?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you pressed your palms into your thighs. You may have longed for Dazai, been so desperate that you couldn’t spare him another glimpse, but you could still play this role well. There couldn’t be another slip, every move had to be precise.
“I’m just curious,” you said, puckering your lips in a pout. “He looks important.”
Tanaka took a sip of his drink as you spoke, nearly spitting it back out when your sentence concluded. His eyes were hard, narrowing at the sight of Dazai just meters away, surrounded by a security of sorts, “You don’t know him?” He coughed.
You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”
“That’s Dazai Osamu. He owns this place.”
There was room for a theatrical pause. You took that moment to pretend to think. “Oh, of course. What a silly question,” you said, humming, and set your chin down on your hand to glance back over at the table of Port Mafia personnel. “I hear he owns a lot of things.” You tilted your head, gauging the man with siren eyes. “Is that true?”
Tanaka huffed, but he didn’t deny it, looking down at his two-million-yen watch like it was nothing more than a trinket. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t worry about him.” He seemed irritated, though he didn’t let it show, his voice the only indicator that you had upset him. “But I can tell you it sure gets hard to run a business in Yokohama when the Port Mafia owns half the city.”
You widened your eyes, leaning forward. “You’re telling me the Port Mafia owns this place?”
Tanaka laughed, loud and haughty, looking at you like you were just a poor idiot from the countryside, even if the dress you wore cost just as much as his entire suit put together. “Oh, hon, if only you knew.”
The condescending tone sent a screech through your entire body, momentarily halting any proper responses in your current act. But he was unfazed, already moving onto the next topic of conversation, telling you all about the business dealings that you’d known about from the long list of jobs within his file.
There was, truly, nothing about him that you hadn’t already dug up. It was boring you immensely, but you smiled on, nodding enthusiastically as he spun the most lackluster story you’d ever heard.
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Dazai, across the room, stared at you as you conversed, clenching his jaw at the way the man eyed you, the gaze that scoured your body like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.
Oh, he would certainly enjoy tearing him apart later, even if he would be too easy of a case to break.  
“When are we leaving?”
Chuuya’s voice snapped him out of his onlooking, and Dazai leaned back in the chair, shedding the tension in his shoulders to resume a comfortable position.
“Not until they’re both in the car and I can confirm with Tachihara and Gin that she’s safe,” Dazai said, crossing his arms over the table. He couldn’t forget that there were others around him, those who would never say a word to him, but knew who he was, knew what he stood for. Even here, he couldn’t let his guard down.
“Safe?” Chuuya laughed, though it was without any humor. His irises flashed dangerously, steely grey darkening into a deep silver. “You trust that idiot not to lay a hand on her? He’s undressing her with his eyes.”
Chuuya seemed intent on irritating him that evening, as usual.
“I don’t trust anyone who comes here.” Dazai scowled. “Don’t be a fool.”
A moment of silence lapsed between them, and Dazai became sickened by the way the man was eyeing you. Though you took it all in stride, leaning just far enough away so his knee didn’t graze yours, and his palm didn’t brush against your own, it still lit a fire deep within him.
It was all the better, he supposed, to feel such deep hatred for his enemies. It made it easier to tear them apart without any guilt. 
“How long are you going to make her do this, huh?” Chuuya spoke up once more from beside him, his voice nothing more than a grumble as he whispered down to Dazai. “This charade you two are carrying on has lasted long enough. I mean, you’re whoring out your wife for fuck’s sake—”
Dazai reacted without a thought, despite not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a second. He gritted his teeth and turned on Chuuya, his hand gripping the gun in his pocket, finger tight on the trigger. Enough of a warning for him to know how sincerely the simple comment irritated him.
“Don’t ever insinuate that I don’t love my wife, Chuuya, or it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” Dazai spat the words out carefully, just under his breath, holding Chuuya’s piercing gaze without blinking. “You may be a valuable asset to the Port Mafia, but I will not listen to your opinions on matters that don’t concern you.”
Chuuya stared, setting his jaw before turning away once more. The two of them looked back to where you were smiling, leading the other man out of the room, though still not touching, placing a respectable distance between you.
“I’m just surprised, Dazai.” Chuuya leaned back, crossing his arms as he titled his head, watching your figure fade into the shadows. “You love her so fiercely, and yet, you watch as this carries on time and time again. I don’t understand.”
Dazai stood from the booth, tucking the gun back into his waistbad, under his coat. He straightened his shoulders, inhaling deeply. “I think you’re underestimating her if you truly believe she doesn’t have a handle on the situation.” His hands slipped into his pockets as Chuuya followed, grumbling from just a few feet away. “Besides, I’ve never forced her into anything. It was her idea in the first place.”
“Why?”
Dazai sighed, though it was almost wistful, the mere thought of you enough to turn him into a lovesick fool. “Perhaps it is because there are many men that seem to think they can crawl into her bed so easily, and she enjoys their humiliation when they realize that they are so far beneath her.” Dazai shrugged, and smiled lightheartedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps, she just wants to make everyone’s lives a little easier, including yours. You should thank her sometime.”
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Tanaka sat beside you in the car, his hand lingering in the leather seat between his thigh and your own. Night had fallen deep across the city, the sky a navy through the haze of streetlights. Though it was nearing one o’clock in the morning, there were crowds of people out and about, lines at all of the much more affordable clubs in the area.
It hadn’t taken much to get him to come with you. You’d batted your eyelashes, smiled at him from under them, and told him you had a car waiting out back.
That was enough. When you’d pulled yourself down from the barstool, he’d followed after you, eyes blown wide as you’d begun leading him out of the room.
All it took was a dress that hugged your curves and a small grin, and he was in the car with a man that worked for you, heading to a building that your husband owned.
“Do you live far?” Tanaka asked, itching to put his hands on you, even though you’d convinced him to hold off until you got back to your room.
You placed your chin on the inside of your palm, glancing out the window at your own reflection. “Not too far.” You turned back to him, offering him a shy smile. “Why? Are you getting impatient?”
He grinned wolfishly. Your stomach churned anxiously at the sight of it, even when he was no match for you, nor all the other, powerful individuals that surrounded you. “I don’t think I need to answer that.”
Through the rearview mirror, Tachihara met your eyes, and they softened, just barely, silently showing his support from the front of the vehicle.
It was, in a way, a relief. You relaxed, regained a sense of composure, and let your ruby red lips spread over your teeth, cocking your head as Tanaka indulged himself in whatever fantasy was milling about in his mind. His eyes were cruel, though the darkness in them was nothing compared to what you were used to.
Idly, he made comments in your ear of all the things he wanted to do to you, his unpleasant breath tickling the skin there as you tried your best not to recoil. The smell of him was growing heavy in the car, overwhelming and nauseating. You sat even more stiffly, pressing Tanaka away with a palm to his chest as you giggled to yourself, pretending to enjoy his vulgar words.
Tachihara pulled the car around to the back of the building, letting the two of you out as he put it into park.
Any fool should’ve known where they were, what the dark building in the middle of the city stood for, but Tanaka was all too focused on you, intoxicated and inattentive. The mafia headquarters loomed overhead, dark, and unassuming, a triad of buildings stacked perfectly against one another.
“Thank you,” you said to Tachihara, winking at him as Tanaka turned his back, too disoriented to take in anything but the sight of you right before him.
The car drove away, then, and you were left to guide your guest into the building, towards the room that you had already planned to meet Dazai in. When you reached the elevator, Gin was waiting for you, dressed in female attire, this time, charading as a worker instead of the trained assassin that she truly was.
“Impressive building,” Tanaka said, as if not noticing all the obvious signs of the mafia base. “You must come from quite a wealthy family.”
You smiled at him over your shoulder, curious as to why he didn’t assume you’d come into the riches on your own. “I suppose you could say that.”
Gin opened the elevator, then began typing a message to her boss, alerting him of your arrival. Tachihara had taken the longest route back, giving Dazai just enough time to arrive home before you.
“Are you a renter?” he asked, staring as the numbers on the elevator increased, climbed higher while you went towards a floor that was only two below the penthouse.
“We own it.”
Tanaka turned towards you, eyes wide with surprise, perplexed even further by the alcohol running through his veins. “You didn’t say—”
Abruptly, he cut himself off. Whatever comment he was about to make was overshadowed by the fact that he’d met you at the Port Mafia’s night club. That was certainly no place for anyone that didn’t have a million yen to spare in their pockets.
Finally, the elevator dinged, and you relaxed at the sight of the familiar hall, the carpet that had recently been replaced, the paintings that you’d personally added, ones that had been purchased at an auction. There were traces of you everywhere, and though it belonged to many members of the mafia, it was, inherently, your home.
You grabbed Tanaka’s hand, realizing just how cold it was, wrinkled with calluses and dirtied nails. It took everything in you not to grimace as you pulled him towards the fourth door on the right, the one that had been used for every interrogation over the past two years.
It had become something of a holding cell for the mafia’s enemies, and most didn’t remain here long. You doubted that this man would be of any exception.
Tugging him along, you increased your speed, an invisible string guiding you right back to Dazai. He was your fiery beacon, and though you were still separated by walls, your heart thumped at being so near to him.
“Eager, are we?” Tanaka asked, and when he grinned in the lights, you realized how slimy it was, a hunger dripping off the edges of his yellowed teeth.
You smiled right back, but it was forceful, painful as it etched its way onto your cheeks. An itch started in the cracks of your palm, willing you to snatch it out of Tanaka’s hand and scrub it clean. Still, you held on, remembering that this was for the Port Mafia, this was for Dazai and everything you’d worked for over the years.Your determination increased tenfold. “It’s just around the corner.”
Finally, you reached the room where you knew Dazai would be waiting, and just like every other time you’d done this, every time you’d brought another willing victim into a den of wolves, you could finally relax.
You entered the room, not bothering to flip on any of the light switches. There was furniture, but it was dusty, bloody, and it would make it far too obvious that you were not leading Tanaka back to your bedroom. You didn’t want him turning tail too quickly, running when he discovered you had no intention of rolling around in the sheets with him.
He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, advancing on you like a hunter. It would’ve been threatening, intimidating perhaps, if you had not been able to sense Dazai on the other side of the wall. You knew that whatever control Tanaka thought he had on the situation had quickly evaporated, and it was only a false blanket of security that he’d wrapped himself up in.
“Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?” you asked, stopping Tanaka with a flat palm to his chest, not allowing him to come any closer. “The alcohol in me is starting to wear off.”
He ignored your wishes entirely, upon you once more. One larger hand ripped yours from his chest, pulling you just another inch closer. “I’ve had enough tonight,” Tanaka said, teeth flashing in the dim starlight. “I’m dying to fuck you.”
You frowned, eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, I’d like a drink first.”
“I’m not in the mood.” He yanked on your hand again, and this time, you knew he’d kiss you, knew he’d plant the cracking pale lips of his own on yours. The thought of it made you ill.
Without thinking, you slung a fist across his face, a crunch sounding from his nose at the force of your hit. Blood trickled from one nostril, flowing in a fast stream over his lips, into his teeth.
He bent over, and you stood, straighter, staring over him as he cursed. The punch had been much more forceful than you’d intended.
“What the fuck.” He was angrier than before, and though his pain was immense, it did little to dissuade him. You kept your face hard, inching backwards as he stood tall, so much bigger than you’d remembered. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift you, throw you onto any surface he wanted.
You’d use your ability if you had to, kill the man if it was necessary, but that would mean the entire plan had gone to waste.
“You bitch—”
Without letting any fear cloud your face, you took a step back and bumped into something solid and warm. A cologne more familiar than Tanaka’s enveloped you in a safety net. 
The older man made it one step further, aggressively, before every ounce of determination waned from his eyes. He staggered, tripping over himself and stared back at the man that had slowly come up behind you. The one that was brushing soft fingertips between your shoulder blades, his steady breath tickling the crown of your head.
Dazai smiled, in a way that was so menacing that your heart thumped twice in its chest before resuming its natural melody. Tanaka took a step back, scrambling away, nearly tripping over himself in the process, eyes dilated in fear.
“You,” he breathed. “Dazai—” Tanaka didn’t finish his sentence, too stunned as he stared between the two of you. “What’s going on?”
Dazai stepped forward, letting his hands fall away from you as he cornered the newest addition to his long list of enemies. Already, you missed the warmth of Dazai’s touch, the security that came with his proximity.
Tanaka cowered before him, suddenly so small, weak under the breadth of Dazai’s power. A sense of twisted satisfaction curled within you, lightning up every pore under your cold skin.
“I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Dazai said, and his tone was even, hard, not a hint of amusement laced within the words. Tanaka’s eyes darted to you, where you stood with your arms loose at your sides, eyes softer, every inch of you more delicate now that Dazai was in the room. 
“Wife—” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it, hesitant. “You said you didn’t know him. You asked me questions about him.”
You slid the ring back onto your finger, the one that you’d kept tucked away in the pocket of your bag. It glimmered in the beams of the moon, the diamond and rubies sparkling. “I can lie just as easily as a man can.” Crossing your arms, you sighed, and stared at Dazai’s taut back, the strained muscles in his shoulders as he stood over Tanaka. “You’re all so stupid sometimes. It only takes a simple question, and you never ask it. Anyone in that club could’ve told you who I am.”
He balked, considering his own ignorance, and followed your eyes back to Dazai, who had gone just a few steps behind you, to the small storage of top-shelf alcohol that you kept locked up in the room. “What is this about?” he asked, shaking his head to clear away his distress. “You’ve obviously brought me here for a reason. What is it?”
“I find it funny that you think you’re the one in control of the situation,” Dazai said, turning his back to fix himself a drink. He didn’t doubt that you would watch Tanaka for him with careful eyes. Even the smallest twitch of his eyebrows would be telling. “You don’t get to ask questions.”
“I haven’t done anything,” he said, and though his voice was hard, there was underlying panic. “I’ve stayed well out of the Mafia’s business, as promised—”
“Perhaps.” Dazai interrupted smoothly, coolly. “Our agreement wasn’t broken, per se. I just happen to think that working with outsiders is an act of much higher treason.”
Tanaka blinked, faltering. His jaw went slack, a mere second ticking before he replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t try to lie to me.” Dazai glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about Dostoevsky. The rats that are trying to take over my city.” He tsked, rolling the glass around on the counter, clinking it against the granite. Then, he popped a crystal bottle open, letting it fill a quarter of the glass.  “Such a shame. You’ve built quite a name for yourself in Yokohama. Is this really worth losing all that?”
Tanaka stuck both hands in his pocket, shaking his head vigorously. His fingers flexed against his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who that is, I’ve never crossed anyone by that name.”
Seeing an opportunity while Dazai’s back was turned, Tanaka began to pull out a pistol from his coat; one you had, stupidly, forgotten to check for. It seemed he doubted that you were a threat, and if he could just kill Dazai, you’d be an easy target.
You moved without thinking, making the single-step distance between you and Dazai. There was a gun relaxed at his waistband, and you stole it, knowing exactly where he kept it hidden. Before Tanaka could point his own at the head of your lover, you’d acted first, aiming Dazai’s gun, your jaw tense and back straight. “Put it down.”
Tanaka, caught off guard, locked his jaw, and his fingers twisted tighter around the handle of the gun, inching towards the trigger. For a moment, he contemplated, but even without knowing the thoughts in his mind, you could read his actions.
You wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do as he wanted. Instead, you fired your own gun, digging the bullet into his fingers, shattering them, blood spattering as Tanaka dropped the pistol to the floor in a ghoulish scream.
For a second more, he writhed in pain at your own hand, once again. You held your arm taut, before letting the gun drop to your side as Dazai hummed behind you. Tanaka had fallen to his knees, tears welling up, his vision glossy as he dropped the maimed hand to his thighs.
Dazai came up beside you, smiling at you, and brushed his fingers down your arm. Slowly, he took the gun, placing it back into his waistband, his touch electric on every centimeter of your skin. “You’ve handled it beautifully, my love.” Dazai squeezed your hand, tilting his head so dark hair cleared away from his eyes. “I can take it from here.”
You nodded, and though Dazai was, by no means, pushing you out of the room, he could see how exhausted you’d become by the whole ordeal. If you wanted to leave—and you did—he wouldn’t object.
“Will you be long?” you asked, just a whisper over Tanaka’s heavy breaths of pain.
Dazai laughed easily, his breath ghosting the bridge of your nose. “Akutagawa will be here soon.” A touch lingered on your hands for a minute longer before he pulled away completely. “Then, I’m yours for the rest of the night.”
It was already late, but you’d take whatever time you could get with Dazai, even if you were drained. You nodded, and he turned away, going back towards his enemy, pulling Tanaka up roughly by his collar. Dazai’s expression changed into a man you almost didn’t recognize, if it hadn’t been for the moments that you’d had to see him shift into the underworld’s fearsome demon.
You left the room, yawning, Dazai’s voice the last thing you heard before you shut the door silently.
“Now that you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps you’ll be more willing to tell me everything you know,” he said.
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Despite Dazai promising to leave once Akutagawa arrived, he’d been gone for nearly two hours, with no indication that he’d be returning anytime soon.
You waited for him in the penthouse of the Port Mafia headquarters, the home you’d come to know well in the past few years. A glass of imported wine was beside you on the nightstand, resting between a book you’d been too tired to read before bed.
You sat up, unable to fall asleep, and chewed your lip thoughtfully. It seemed ridiculous, really, for you to already miss a man that you woke up next to and fell asleep beside every night.
Still, you couldn’t help the desperation in your chest, the need to see him, to brush the mask of the Port Mafia boss away so Osamu could take his place.  
You finished the wine, then headed towards the door. The room felt cold and lonely, and if Dazai wasn’t going to return soon, you’d just find someone else to bother on the lower levels of the building.
Though, just as you were about to slip on a pair of shoes, the door unlocked, swung on its hinges, and Dazai stepped through the threshold, a vision of gore and violence and every ounce the man you adored.
“Osamu,” you said, and even when you’d said his name a thousand times before, it still left your lips like a prayer. A smile formed, and you dropped your shoes, eyes sparkling, as you regarded the mess that he was in.
Dazai took one look at you and relaxed, shoulders falling as you closed the distance between the two of you. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he said, craning his taller frame down to kiss you.
You gripped the lapels of his coat, holding on tight as you pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Dazai’s bloody fingers cupped your cheeks, smearing red along your jaw, ruining your clean skin. Though, as you exhaled a sigh deep into his mouth, you couldn’t have cared less.
“I thought you said Akutagawa was going to take care of it?” you asked as Dazai released you, offering you a small, almost defeated smile.
He walked past you, towards the bathroom, feet dragging as he shrugged off his dark coat. Under the crisp top, his muscles were stiff, strained from all the stress. He wiped another hand over his face, doing little to clean up the mess of red that remained on his cheeks.
You followed him, trailing a few feet behind, feeling silly for wanting to cling to him so tightly. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of him, and you watched as Dazai remained silent, pausing in front of the mirror to regard his own appearance. He made a face in the glass as he gazed back into his own expression, sticking his hands under the faucet. The water ran in a steady stream, staining the sink a rose color as he scrubbed the blood from his fingers, his nails. There were parts of his bandages that had been soiled, and he ripped them right off, exposing pale wrists that hadn’t seen the sun in ages.
You mimicked his action, washing your hands in the second sink before scrubbing the blood from your face, clearing away the smear of maroon that he’d put there. The water shut off, briefly, and Dazai regarded you, frowning as you rid the evidence of his crime from yourself.
“I sent Akutagawa home.” Dazai finally answered your previous question and sighed, frustration evident. He stretched his hands over his head, the bones popping in one fell swoop. “Tanaka cracked right open; he really didn’t know anything.” He blinked at himself in the mirror once more, tidied his hair, then scowled. “He’s just a low man on the totem pole, and he paid for it with his life.”
Dazai seemed at odds with himself, and he drummed his nails against the countertop before patting his hands dry. The blood had been cleaned from his skin, and even though his hair was still unkempt, it was the only evidence that any wrongdoing had happened at all. Nothing but a speck of blood remained on his collar, the rest garnishing his coat instead.
You shifted, leaning against the counter. “Did you get anything out of him?”
“Names, a location.” Dazai clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. “He wasn’t lying, but who knows if they’re real or not. He could’ve been given fake locations. I’ve asked Ango to check on it.”
Dazai, once again, left you standing, contemplative, in the bathroom. You could hear him shuffle around in the other room; he released a small sound of relief as he stretched out his sore muscles.
When he’d finished moving around, you returned to the other room, and he was settled in the red armchair, legs spread out in front of him. Dazai rested his head against the back cushion, his eyes closed in serenity, a deep exhale expelling the tightness in his body.
It was almost a sight too serene to spoil.
“Do you want some space?” you asked, and though you’d always respect his wishes, that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You wanted to consume him completely, to press yourself against every crevice of his being and swallow him whole.
Dazai opened his eyes and blinked at you. Instead of replying, he smiled, slowly, and gestured to his thighs, sparing a glance at his knees.
Your heart pounded, launching its way up your throat, and you scrambled over yourself to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, the muscle strong beneath you.
Gently, he smiled at you, and brushed your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, and slowly, you removed the bandage from his eye, hating whenever he tried to hide any part of himself from you.
You waited for him to protest, but he relented, and let you kiss his forehead, the very darkest parts of himself on display for you alone. It was hard not to collapse under the weight of your love for him.
You discarded the bandages, tossing them onto the table as Dazai tapped a pattern in the crevices of your skin.
For a moment, neither of you said a word. You noted every feature of his that you loved so dearly, and Dazai just watched you study him, tried hard not to smile against your lips when you kissed him.
If only he could see how beautiful he was, surely, he would understand that he deserved a life so much better than the one he’d been dealt. That someone with a smile brighter than a dying star shouldn’t have it taken away by years of endless anguish.
Finally, Dazai spoke, whispering your name in a tone he never used on any word but that one. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”
“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head, so distracted by the endless galaxy within his eyes.
Dazai huffed, placing a possessive hand on your hip. His thumb grazed the bone and you shivered, smiling at him in confusion.
“Sweetheart, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re obligated to do something just because you’re my wife.” He looked past you, an uncertainty beneath his words that he was ashamed of. “If you don’t want to take on any more assignments—"
“I told you already, Osamu,” you began, brushing the hair at the back of his neck that was hidden beneath the collar. “I don’t mind.”
“I know, but—” Dazai hesitated, his gaze steady on the doors behind you, the ones that led to your bedroom. Somehow, he seemed to think all the answers would be there, a script written out for him to recite to you. “Chuuya brought it up to me earlier. He said that I’m…” Dazai swallowed the words, shaking his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to promise me that you know if you want to stop, you can stop. Even if you wanted to quit the Port Mafia altogether, I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
You smiled, kissing the wrinkle between his eyebrows in the hope that it would ease the anxiety in his expression. The tension was such an unusual thing for anyone but you to see, as Dazai had such trouble revealing his vulnerabilities to the world.
“I promise.” You swept your thumb over his lip, watching as it bounced right back into place, so soft and lovely. “I just don’t want to quit.” You leaned back on his lap, so you were able to see the entirety of his face.  
Dazai’s eyebrows drew together once more, putting that worry right back on his appearance, and a part of you hated that of all the things he had to be stressed about, it was something as silly as you not wanting to quit your job.
“Why?” Dazai asked, tilting his chin, searching the depths of your soul for an answer that would appease him. “I don’t understand. You hate them; you tell me you hate them every time they try and lay a finger on you.”
He wasn’t wrong, certainly not about something like that. You loathed that men looked at you like you were something that they could just steal away, like they were entitled to the subtle way that they brushed your hip in passing, caressed your back when they walked behind you.
You just didn’t hate everything about the work you’d been doing. After all, it was your idea.
“I just don’t want to,” you said, looking over his shoulder to the open curtains, the bright expanse of Yokohama laid out before you. Twinkling star lights from skyscrapers and the port in the distance. “It doesn’t matter.”
It was your home, your city, and it always would be. You wouldn’t let Dazai die, wouldn’t let anyone take him from you—including himself. You’d continue to do whatever it took to protect that. Whether or not you used your appearance to achieve those ends didn’t matter. When it was all said and done, Dazai’s enemies would be dead, and you’d still have him to come home to.
“It matters to me.”
You shook your head, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. There were a million different ways you could’ve explained it, but none that were intelligent. “It’s embarrassing, ‘samu.”
Dazai laughed, a genuine noise, and kissed your shoulder as you sighed, relaxing into him once more. “I can’t think of anything about you that could possibly be embarrassing.”
You held his gaze, wishing for him to relent, to just give up and let you have this one. Instead, he just smiled back patiently, hoping you’d reveal another part of yourself to him as he slowly traced your hard collarbone.
Those pools behind his eyes were too distracting, the thumb on your neck dangerously close to your throbbing pulse. You swallowed, letting him feel every movement as your throat bobbed up and down.
“I guess,” you said shyly, “I like it. I like leading on your enemies, letting them think that they could possibly have a chance with someone like me. I like the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been made a fool of, that the girl who they wanted so badly belongs so completely to the boss of the Port Mafia.”
Dazai studied you for a moment as you shrugged the revelation off, his deep brown eyes darting over every crevice of your face. “You want to make them jealous of me?”
“Maybe.” Your cheeks heated, and though you’d been together for years, loved him for even longer, you still shied under the weight of your own desire for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want them all to know that I’m as much the boss of the Port Mafia as you.” You wound your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him, the only person you’d ever need in the dangerous world. “They’re blind to their desire, and they refuse to see that I have complete control over them.” You smiled, lazily, fondly. “Don’t they know that this is my city, too?”
Dazai’s strength made an appearance then, and he gripped your cheeks, holding you with a spiraled mix of possession and affection. “It is,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own, “and I’d burn it all down before I let anyone take it from you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his deepened tone, the seriousness that drew on his normally playful inflection. You grew hot, and a twist of desire started deep within you, spreading down easily, slowly turning your thoughts into a muddled mess.
“I know,” you said, trying to keep your words steady as Dazai drew lazy circles up and down your sides. “Everyone knows.” You met his eyes, soft, yet dark, clouded with a longing you weren’t unfamiliar to. “The woman who brought them to their knees is still nothing more than a simple fool for Osamu Dazai.” You inhaled drawing your fingers to his open collar, the crisp bandages around his chest. “What could they ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?”
Dazai waited, watched your smaller hand run across his neck, his smirk slowly growing on his lips. “I’m a lucky man, indeed,” he said, drawing the words out slow and lazily. He tipped your chin down to him, his smile displaying the almost sharpened points of his canines. Slender fingers caressed your hipbone, pressing you farther down onto his thigh.
You let out a small sound, not taking your eyes off of his as his expression grew wily, and the slip you wore slowly began to rise up your thighs, exposing the softer skin of your leg.
“I admit, I can’t stand that everyone in this city wants you so fucking bad.” Dazai sunk his lips to your neck, kissing the space between your shoulder and jaw. “But I can’t blame them. My beautiful angel.” He smiled under your jaw, gripping your hips harder, forcing you to drag against his thigh. A puff of air left your throat as Dazai grinned, spiking your arousal. “It’s for the best, isn’t it? I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”
Your eyes flashed; Dazai bounched his leg, just once, his eyes shining, every move calculated. He’d always known exactly how to touch you, and he’d never forget, never stop enjoying the way you jerked so easily under his palm, the way you were already trying to rub yourself against him.
“Osamu,” you began, desperate for just a moment of friction, to feel his rigid muscle drag against your cunt. You wanted him so badly that your heart stumbled over itself, all the love you held, locked up there and looking for a way out.
He made a sound of disapproval, holding you still with a tight grip on your hips. His fingers dug into the bone, but it did little to ease your aching need for him.
“See?” Dazai’s kisses were light as he whispered against the shell of your ear, the sound nothing more than a breath of air. “I barely have to touch you and you’re a whimpering mess.”
You swallowed, tugging at the hair at the base of his scalp, trying to remain steady, if only for him to give you what you wanted.
Dazai seemed to be in a generous mood, worn from the previous mission, and he was grinning lazily, two fingers slipping under your dress.
His grip loosened, and you shifted, letting him pull on the strap of your panties, drag them down your thighs, over your knees, to discard beside the chair. Already, there was evidence of your desire, a spot of wetness obvious against the red satin.
He let the garment hang between his fingers before he looked back at you, watching as it softly fell to the floor. “If only they knew how easy it was to get you wet,” he said, shrewdly, “they’d want you twice as much as they did before.”
You let out a soft whimper, trying to direct his beautiful hands back between your thighs. Though, Dazai kept his fingers away, and in an act of desperation, you pressed your forehead to his, conveying every ounce of your affection for him.
“Osamu,” you breathed, blinking into his warm irises, a shade of brown that had easily become your favorite. “I’m so crazy about you.” You kissed his cheeks, smearing your lip gloss all over the skin he’d just wiped clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Everyone in Yokohama watches me, but I ache for you.”
His eyes flashed, pleased, and he relented, nudging his thumb to the inner most part of your thigh. The smile was still mocking, but he gave you at least some relief; Dazai let you sink back down on his thigh, the pressure just enough to have you clawing your nails into his chest.
He kissed your nose, but kept you where you were, perched on the middle of his leg and much too far from his cock. “What would you ever do if I wasn’t here to take care of you, hm, darling?"
You softened; even if his gaze was taunting, there was utter devotion between his dilated pupils.
All those men who fell for your act may have been complete fools, but Dazai was even worse off than them: he was a fool in love.
“It’s so hard not to crawl into your arms every time you’re around,” you admitted, grabbing the buckle of his belt to undo it with a clank. The mere sound, the feel of the leather between your fingers, nearly had you salivating. “I’m stronger than a lot of men in Yokohama.” Your features contorted then, eyes vulnerable as you looked up at him through delicate lashes, no longer a vision of authority, but of someone who desperately wanted to be taken care of. “Not you, though.”
Dazai’s grip on you relaxed, and something in his eyes shifted, lips parting as an exhale left them. He said nothing as you removed the belt, and instead, let himself sink deeper into the cushion, bearing your weight.
Hastily, you pulled down the zipper of his slacks. The weight of his heavy cock in your hands was so familiar. You stroked him gently, watching for any reaction, and while his face remained steady, you could sense the change in his heartbeat.
“I don’t need you to be strong around me,” Dazai said. His voice had deepened, your name leaving his lips, raspy by the end of his sentence. “You can fall apart if you want to, my love.” His erection grew slowly in your palm, and he brought you closer, your bare, soaked cunt dragging against his thigh. “I’ll always be here to put you back together.”
You smiled, flushing as he hardened, his breath growing uneven. When you had him leaking within your palm, you shifted forward on your knees, grinning at his reddened cheeks. Dazai’s eyes drifted towards your chest, just inches from his face.  
Uncertain, you hesitated, even though you wanted him, needed him with every fiber of your being. It was an unfamiliar position. He could take control of the situation at any moment, but you weren’t usually the one looming over him.
“Osamu—”
“What?” he released with a sigh, and in one swift motion, lifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. “You walk around my nightclub in those dresses I buy you, force those pretty tits into other men’s faces, but now you’re too shy to fuck your husband?”
You made a face, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and if only to prove a point, you sunk down on him, your folds slick. Dazai slid into you easily, a sinful noise breaking the silence between you as he grinned. “I’ll f-fuck you,” you stuttered, swallowing under the heat of his watchful eyes. “It’s just…” Your words failed again as his cock went deeper in you, your focus entirely on your own pleasure.
“Just what?” He stopped you for a moment, planting you on his thighs, his cock still straining, filling you. Glaring, vibrating with need, you opened your eyes, lips parting as he whispered against your mouth “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”  
“It’s not my fault, Osamu,” you said, on the edge of a whine, squirming within his hold. “I can’t help that they stare.”
He laughed, then, and it was just a brush against your swollen mouth, the one he kept coming back to. “They can stare all they want,” Dazai said, tilting your chin up. “As long as they know who you belong to.”
Finally, he let you go, his hands tracing the edges of your knees, and you started a slow, steady pace, gasping as you held onto his neck tightly. He bowed his head into your collarbone, and kissed you once, before leaning back lazily, watching you take and take and take.
“Doing so good, angel,” he said, watching you with such a passion that it was distracting, as he let his palms rest simply on your thighs. “You always look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?”
“Feels so good,” you muttered.
“I know.” Dazai seemed too devilish with his dark hair fanned out against the red chair, grinning in a way that twisted up your insides, sweat beading down your forehead as you tried to reach your orgasm.
You were hot with his piercing gaze upon you, but he didn’t bother to move his hands, did nothing to even pretend like he was fazed. You sunk down faster, heart racing, as the muscles of your hips strained, burned. Already, you were growing tired, sleepy from a full evening, but still so desperate to come around him.
You leaned forward, trying to angle your body, gain some relief from the position. Though it did little, and instead you were left sighing in frustration, wishing that he would do anything, instead of just look at you with a lust blown smile.
With every moment, the pain began to grow, the ache in your legs far too much to give way to pleasure. You started back at Dazai, frustrated, eyes glossy with need.
Dazai laughed at you then; it wasn’t quite mocking, but it wasn’t kind either. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”
Frustrated and impatient as you dripped down your own thighs, you grabbed his throat, thrusting his head into the back of the chair.
Dazai, eyes wide with surprise, stopped smiling as you curled your hand around his neck, his fingers digging into your thighs.
“Are you just going to sit there, Osamu?” you said, your words high-pitched and desperate. “Or are you going to—”
The end of your sentence was cut off by him gripping the back of your hair, smashing your lips into his own. The hand on his neck fell away, drifting to the lapels of his bloodstained collar, as he brought you down hard on his cock, hitting a place deep inside you that you hadn’t been able to reach with your own strength.
Dazai’s fingertips left bruises on your skin as he devoured the inside of your mouth, bringing you down over and over, stretching your walls with each movement.
“So pretty and desperate for me,” Dazai laughed, but he was breathless, his own tenacity crumbling from adoration. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you, baby?” His kisses were sloppy as he dragged them across your neck, tongue grazing the sharp vein under your ear.
“No, but you said—” you were losing your breath and your words. “You said you’d take care of me. I don’t want to cum all on my own, ‘samu.”
Dazai groaned, his gaze drifting down to the space between your bodies, where you were sucking him back in, your own body aligned with your heart, never wanting to let him go.
“Fuck,” he said, slamming you back down on his thighs, his eyes hazy with love. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” One hand guided your hips as the other curled around your jaw, setting the pace with half his strength. “You’re my whole world.” His words stuttered, aching cock twitching inside you. “I’m nothing without you, understand?”
You nodded, but you weren’t quite thinking straight, the words a jumbled mess when they entered your mind. “I love you,” you said, gasping the end of his name. “I love you, Osamu, need more.”
Dazai breathed, just as heavily, softening as he regarded you. He’d always loved the look on your face as you came apart. “You take it so well,” he said eyelids fluttering over hazy eyes, and he kissed your forehead. You dragged your hands all over his chest, just wanting to touch any part of him. “Wish you could see yourself. You’re so beautiful.”
You groaned, pulling him closer, until there was nowhere left to go, surrounded completely by Dazai; the smell of him, the taste of him. “Say it back,” you muttered, “say you love me too.”
He choked on a laugh, and the lewd sounds of your wet arousal were loud as he came in and out of you. “I love you, angel, you know how much I love you.” Dazai kissed you, then, and your heart sped at how hoarse his voice had become, how easily it was for you to make the most powerful man in Yokohama fall apart at the seams. “You’ve got a pretty ring to prove it, don’t you? I don’t want anyone but you. I never will.”
“Come inside me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as his cock reached impossibly deep within you, stretching you, your legs shaking as you tried to ignore the dull ache within your tense muscles. Tears sprang to your eyes, coating your lashes; it was almost devastating how much you loved him. “Please. Feel so full, ‘samu.”
“Yeah?” He reached between you to play with your clit, and you were so close, crying out a broken moan as he touched you. “Need to remind everyone that you’re my girl, hm?” He knew just how you liked to be touched, how easy it was to get you to come when he fucked you like you needed. “Want me to put a baby in you next, sweetheart? Shit.” He curled his fingers, bruising your mouth as he stole the oxygen from your chest. “Everyone would know then, wouldn’t they? How could they doubt you’re mine when you’re carrying my child.”
You cried out, then, breaking, spasming around his cock as you fell onto his chest. Dazai said your name, kissed the top of your head, but you were too full of love for him. You breathed heavily as he brought you down once more, twitching against him from the ache in your sensitive cunt.
A moment later, Dazai jerked, then came inside you, spilling his warm cum against your folds, the white ropes dripping down your thighs, staining his dark, wrinkled slacks. Slowly, he pulled out of you, letting you rest on his chest as you breathed, your legs sore. A gentle touch ran up and down your spine as Dazai wrapped his arms tight around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.
“God, you’re perfect,” Dazai said, and his voice sounded almost broken, devastatingly emotional. “You can’t ever leave me, okay, angel? I need you right here by my side.” Lips grazed your temple, so sweetly, gently. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t share it with you?”
You smiled, resting your head in the crook of his neck, eyes full of tears as you kissed him. “I’m not going anywhere, Osamu. I promise.”
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OCTOBER MASTERLIST - leave a comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the tag list
tag list: @satohruu (hannah i planned this one bc of your tags on my last pm dazai fic HDSFHSFH) @cha0thicpisces
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Text
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons
I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.
Warnings: SMUT
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- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.
- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.
- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.
- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.
- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.
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screampied · 3 months
Note
Could you please PLEEASEEE do Sukuna with a overstimulation kink😭🩷
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₊˚﹕. how sukuna acts with an overstim kink.
warnings. fem! reader, overstim, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, cunnilingus, p*ssy spanking.
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sukuna wasn’t even aware he had a kink of overstim.
however, he realized the moment he easily stole multiple orgasms out of you, again, and again and again. all to a point where you’re an entire mess, stammering over your words. your back's pressed against his chest and he hums. “how’s it feel, princess?”
you moaned, feeling him stuff you full of inches. alas by this part, you weren't even riding him anymore. time stood still….and yet, so did your hips. he brings a soft kiss towards the very back of your neck and you’re just trembling, mind in an entire loop. “good, r-really really good...”
“ya want another kiss?” he snickers, beads of sweat racing down his thin eyebrows.
immensely, you nod, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes backwards.
“pleaseee,” you’d whimper, and he lightly grabs you by the neck to pull you into a deep, passionate yet sloppy kiss. he tastes sweet, you shudder once you feel a rough hand of his slides down your back, toying with your skimpy bra strap. “sukuna,” you’d whine between kisses. a coy simper goes across the curse’s face as your cute frame jittered and trembled over him, still stuffed full. “again…make me cum again, please.”
“sensitive little girl. dunno if ya can handle much more,” he dumbs you down with just his tone. sukuna’s voice pitches into a low hence of mockery, causing you to soak ten times quicker and he chuckles. “but hm…okay, since you asked so nicely.”
you laid against his chest, and he’s got a soft gentle grip around your throat with another hand reaching between your legs.
“aw, such a whiney little thing,” he purrs.
he’s so incredibly hefty, the base of his fat cock, the hilt buried right inside of your cunt. it fit perfectly and you were so dizzy. “those weak legs of yours are gonna give out soon, careful princess.”
“k-kuna, please…” you’d babble, and he sits up before chuckling lowly against your ear. he’s so mean, prying your legs apart just a bit to bring a soft spank towards your pussy.
“what…? how do ya expect me to make you cum if you can barely ride me anymore?” he whispers, and he gently skims his fingers against your cunt. your body twitched and you felt everything rush against you at once. “hmpf. need need my help, huh?”
you sniffle out a, “y-yes.” and he smiles, sliding a hand down your waist to help guide your shaky hip movements. your legs could barely keep up, yet that’s when sukuna gets an idea.
“then get on your tummy, baby.”
shakily, you comply. repositioning yourself, you wonder what he was gonna do when you let off a soft squeak once he pulls your hips towards him before leaning down, licking a long stripe against your already throbbing pussy.
“y-you’re gonna eat me out—?” you’d mewl with a pout, definitely not expecting him to change so soon. you could barely get your staggering words out, and as he used two hands to spread your ass apart, he started up a slow tempo with his licks.
“you wanted another orgasm… ‘n this is the quickest way i know,” he murmurs, and you moan against the bed sheets once his nose prods against your slick folds. “is someone complainin'?”
you shudder, facing the opposite way before whining out a, “n-no.”
“good girl, ‘s what i thought. now relax ‘n let me eat.”
his voice was a pitched low and heavily raspy as he spoke against your pussy. your toes clenched in pleasure and your lips were just dumbly parted open. whenever sukuna eats…he’s so sloppy.
no remorse whatsoever. he’s lapping up his tongue against your slit that’s already starting to drench down his chin. he’s practically being smothering — your sheeny slick races down his chin and he has to take a few moments to swipe a tongue against his lips to savor the taste. you hear the salacious wet squelches escape from his lips and it only makes you throb ten times more.
“my sensitive baby,” he teases, flicking his tongue against your nub to hear you whimper out—you find your back slightly arching before you cling tightly onto the white silk bedsheets that was currently bawled up into your hands. “gonna give me one more, yeah? just one more princess.”
“k—kuna, ‘m gonna—”
“girl that ain’t a answer.” he grumbles, bringing another light spank towards your pussy before kissing it and you moaned. it felt so good, the way your legs trembled and your ears chimed and rang from the sweetened stimulation.
you whimper out a, “y-yes, yes.”
“there we go,” he praises, and you feel his tongue slide against your inner labia. you’re really sensitive there, and it’s like he knows just the right spots to run his tongue to make you squirm in rapture. “can your dumb pussy even give me another though? might be a problem, princess.”
“sukuna,” you whined, and he was toying with you, most likely to hear you whine and whine for it more. “i can—i can, please.”
his tongue licks around in soft circles and your eyes roamed everywhere, going back and rolling into the depths of your skull.
“if you say so,” he chortles, raising a brow. the bundle of nerves that stored inside your pussy had you spasming, it felt so good—you felt yourself starting to lose it. sukuna’s tongue was longly lengthy too, eagerly sucking and nibbling on the right spots just to feel you pulse. “mhm,” he’d groan, entirely face deep. “best meal i’ve had in a long while.”
once he drags out another orgasm from you, you’re unable to speak.
a whine leaves your throat and your eyebrows furrow in ecstasy. “f-fuckkk,” you’d spat, your entire body going limp.
he was so nasty, taking a brief second to spit on your clit before lapping it up with his tongue, the very tip and flat of his tongue to make sure you feel everything. “thank you, t-thank you.”
“what for?” he snickers, playfully taking a second to slurp all against your pussy, his fangs softly nibbling against your folds and you moan.
“don’t tell me you’re already tapping out, little one. think you could give me at least one more, huh?” and he playfully gives your pussy a caress before gently spanking it. “i trained my girl’s pussy well.”
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baynetta · 10 months
Note
riding miguel would literally be a sport omg the way he’d have to lift you up off his lap because your body is too exhausted
riding miguel! (nsfw)
they should considere it to put it up to a olympic sport atp cause it’s something that just takes a lot of time and work. i definitely feel they’re some days that he would come home and he’ll be more than pleased to give you a hand. but not today. he’ll come so tired of all the late work that he had to indure. you didn’t know how much he crave for it, to have you all by himself. and why not to try something new, now that you had some practice before why not ride him all by yourself. this time, no guidance and definitely not help. at first you’ll be a little bit intimidate by it, having him staring at you, full in display, on your own bed, him observing every minute detail of your performance. it felt like your first time all over again (who btw was with miguel ofc🤭). he’ll grab you by the wrist to get close to his throbbing cock, he’s been painfully hard the whole day, thrilled just for this moment, so he’s now very impatient. “c’mon just sit on it baby” “don’t be acting like a prude right now”-. he muttered as you start to accommodate his tip already glassed in pre-cum on your entrance, you had it grabbed by his base giving it slow strokes, as your going in you feel how it slowly rasps making his way into your cavities, you yelp at the feeling, mostly bcs you didn’t had any prep. he usually will take his time before fucking you, he’ll eat you out and stick his fingers on your tight cunt till it’s fully mixed with both of y’all juices before he can burried his length into you. but not today. he wanted to feel how you strech yourself with his hardness, how good it i’ll start to dilatate and contract while his tip reach for the cervix.
as you were making it fit, you were whimper and sobbing mess and miguel could feel how tensed you were, how he was ripping his way up. “honey. escúpele” he demanded as you’re half way in. you spit on the palm of your hand and start glazing and rubbing his shaft with the mix of your sticky saliva and arousal. you watched miguel throw his head back off, shutting his eyes. fuck he’s been fantasizing about it for so long. and mind you, you haven’t reached to the base yet. abruptly you feel miguel’s hand groping your mushy hips and dragging you all the way down. it felt so violent the way you took him in one sitting, that you cry loudly at being now fulled by him. “fuck that’s it” he spit, you cry as you clench tightly on him, and fuck he’s having way too much fun, “ahora de nuevo”—he hissed while looking proudly at how well your taking him, such a good girl. you go all the way up again, with one hand on his base trying to keep the control of it, and drop slowly until your inner thighs are crashing with his pelvis, fuck it stings badly, you feel how hard his cock is stretching your walls as well your thighs are starting to cramp and burn as it’s holds your entire body weight. you tried to support your hands on miguels defined abs but he just slapped them away, “don’t fucking try it, put em behind”—you wanted to protest be he’s already giving you that “say it o you’ll regret it” look. you put them behind as you start going up again, and get down giving little semi circular movements, hissing as it starts to hit the right spot. “fuck.. que apretadita estás”- you cry as he’s hitting it, over and over again, your legs burning, the way your hips are loosing the tempo making all the movements messy and desperate for a guidence.
the room has been a mixing sounds of grunts, whimpers and sobbing messes, the filthy noises of the headboard slamming and the loud sounds of skin slapping as your crushing down hard and squirming all over him. miguel throwing his head back groaning and mutting the dirtiest praises “fuckk..such. a dirty. slut” “stop crying or i’ll be worse”. he’ll constantly switch his grip between your hips or your bouncing tits, he’ll twisted and squeez it. he fucking enjoying it watching your tired body starting to collapse. your pretty eyes closed, trying to endure all the pain and pleasure coming from all the parts that his hands and cock are abusing. the minutes you been on and on it’s almost miracle that you didn’t faint, as he sees you getting all flustered and sweaty he’ll grab you by the face, “don’t. fucking. stop”—.you can feel now his thumb digging dip in your jaw, making you gasp. you feel your full body start trembling, you try to inhale and exhale but your lower back and thighs went on shock. the exhaustion in your face as you implored and begged for miguel's help. until you just can't help it anymore and drop your weakened body on top of him. miguel inmidiatly will embrace you in warm and intimate hug, lift you up off his lap, stand up while he’s still inside you. he'll leave a trace of kisses from your collarbone up to your face whispering how good you were and now he's gonna take care of you.
pd: the stamina of this guy GOD he’s probably goes on an on all night 🤭
trad:
-spit on it
-now again
-you’re so tight
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voyeurmunson · 5 months
Text
Porn: Eddie Munson Blurb
⚠️18+ minors DNI⚠️
Just like every Friday you were in Eddie’s bed. Fooling around, smoking and watching a movie which always led to the two of you tangled up. He was just a friend… a really good friend.
The sex stuff was… okay. Neither of you were super experienced given that both of you had been outcasts in school. After you graduated, it just kinda happened. The friends with benefits situation. You hadn’t went all the way but the things you had done had felt pretty good but it was never what you expected it to be like. You didn’t really get the hype. But you loved Eddie and you still had fun doing dumb shit together and exploring each other’s bodies.
But this time was different. Eddie was different. His lips, his hands, his words. Every new movement making your eyes double but also soaking you down below.
“Oh fuck!! W-wait Eddie, don’t move!” you almost scream at him as his long fingers stroke across that sweet spot inside of you.
“Yeah? Right there, baby?” he hums, his brown eyes burning into yours.
“Yes. Fuck.. right there.” you whine. “Where did you- ohhh…”
“Porn.. been watching a lot of porn.” he chuckles, bringing his soft lips to wrap around your clit, tugging gently.
“Watch it more often.” you laugh breathlessly, pressing his head down deeper as you close your eyes, your body completely lost in this new sensation.
“Fucking hell, Eds. I- I think you’re gonna get me.” you stutter. “Your fingers, faster.. Eddie f-faster.”
He picks up his speed, curling his thick fingers, as he swipes across your soft spot with a perfect rhythm.
“Yes! J-Just like that. Ohh my god, baby. Don’t fucking stop, Munson.” you cry, your fingers tangled in his wild curls.
He moans into you, his lips remaining locked onto your clit, his brown eyes observing you carefully.
“Feels so good. You feel so good.” you praise him.
Your thighs begin to tremble around his head as you squeeze him tight. Your body feels almost light as your back begins to arch. Your mind is dizzy with pleasure as he starts to roll the tip of his tongue along your clit while he sucks harshly.
“Eddie… I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, baby.” you whimper as he increases his suction on your sensitive bud. His fingers haven’t stopped, working your g spot at the same fast tempo.
Your head presses hard into his springy mattress as you feel a wave of pleasure crash over your entire body. Your hips buck up against his face, his stubble tickling the insides of your thighs as you rock against his hand, riding out your high.
“H-holy shit. Holy shit, Eddie.”
“Mmm…” he hums happily as he pops off your clit, tugging it gently before licking a long stripe along your soaked pussy, tasting your sweet release.
“Porn?” you exhale breathlessly and he nods with a big grin. His face now covered in your slick.
“Wanna watch it together? We could try some new-”
“Yes.” you cut him off with a little bite of your lip and his grin doubles in size.
“Fuck yeah.”
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fillinforlater · 4 months
Text
Maknae Royale
Male Reader x Jang Wonyoung, Wang Yiren, Lee Gahyeon, Park Sujin (Swan), Jeon Somi, Shin Yuna, Kim Yerim (Yeri), Im Yeojin (9some)
Length: 10.000 words
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Tags: live action porn, porn game, fucking for points, Team Battle Royale, squirting kink, edging kink, bimbofication, brat taming, doggy, fingering, face riding, blue balling, jerking you off, titfuck, standing sex, step-bro I'm stuck, anal, creampie, anal creampie, eating out, blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, rough sex, missionary, full nelson, against the wall, piledriver, mating press, overstimulation, porn_star!you / porn_rookies!idols
TW: even after editing, this is messy and chaotic and pure sex lol
Inspiration: the idea of a Maknae focused fic is not new, but I just went all in. This is also based on this vote I send out a while ago lol. I think I can name drop @writerpeach cuz I remember him saying sth like that.
Credit: @erospandemos for the cover art! Thabk you very much!
(A/N: One year after C.Ollection, I'm trying my best to celebrate and repeat that craziness, have fun! The beginning is a reference to Labyrinth of the Six. This is the same universe but not a sequel!)
-
"I was looking for copper and I found gold!"
You turn off the purring engine of your car. It is clearly not as nice as the purring of the girl you were in balls deep mere minutes ago, but let's be honest, those purrs should not be compared; one is mechanical, the other borderline maniacal. You let out a sigh as you kill the annoying lights in your car to focus on the call you just accepted.
"Hi, is this really how you're greeting me?" you respond, letting your fingers glide over the steering wheel as you watch a single car pass by in the middle of this warm, humid night.
"Oh, man, stop complaining!" the director says and laughs. You can hear him type something on an old keyboard, each tap of his fingers obnoxiously loud. "I'm going to give you the opportunity of a lifetime—something this great, it needs no greeting."
You rub your nose, then the inside of your eyes filled with tiredness and exhaustion. She was needy tonight, you gave her two rounds, 140 minutes of a hard pounding until the clock struck a merciless 3am. Yes, you were counting the minutes, it was necessary. Otherwise Jiwon’s cunt would have drained you early, which is unbecoming of a porn actor of your caliber.
"Look," you halt the director's enthusiasm with a groan. "I'm doing good right now. Money—I got enough; my love-life is good too. Maybe I'll take a break for a couple of months until my next—"
"No, listen!" he shouts in absolute excitement, like he has been enlightened by the truth. "This script, it's so fucking good! It lit a fire in me, I can already see the setting, the actresses, you—it's perfect. This can even top your Labyrinth performance—you remember, the six hotties—"
"Of course I do!" There you go. Your heart beat is picking up in tempo. How could you forget the pleasure, the absolute thrill of having sex with six gorgeous women at the same time? Don’t kid yourself, this already felt like one in a million—to flat out reject another offer that could be of this magnitude would be absolutely foolish. “Fuck it. Send me the script, I’ll get back to you.”
“Oh, you will,” the director says, absolutely certain that you will accept in a heartbeat after reading this ominous script. “I’ll start looking for actresses.”
#
The script is complex, wild, otherworldly—implementing it took weeks of preparation. Luckily, your part in this clusterfuck is rather simple: be hard, go hard and stay hard. The first two are deeply rooted within you. Seeing the girls’ incredible faces and even greater bodies has you ready to get a raging erection at any time, while some of their slutty mannerisms and lewd words dripping from their tongues like venomous drool urge you to go as hard and rough as you can. Hell, they’ll basically beg for you—why would you hold back?
The only issue is that there are too many of them. No matter how hot they are or how horny you are, at some point there is nothing left. You will be drained and there is no shame in admitting defeat to them. So once again, you’ll have to resort to some performance enhancers to stay hard like a diamond while drilling into cave after cave. It’s a pink pill this time, tiny, you barely notice it, both in the palm of your hand and in your throat. Take a deep breath and feel it surely doing its job already. 
You open your eyes in the midst of a studio room that looks like a submarine. Dim light, large, black holes around you, each with a large porthole-like door in the middle; it feels gloomy, mysterious, unsettling. A single camera is pointed at you, live streaming each droplet of sweat running down your face. Feel the artificial warmth of a nearby heater creep up your thin clothes, giving you chills. It cannot match the heat within you.
The red light atop the camera turns off. Sixty seconds from now, one of the portholes will open. The glass in them is blurry, obscuring any view of the chaos happening behind them. You of course know the script inside out, but the girls’ are still somewhat unknown. You’ve never seen them face to face, only in zoom calls, their bodies looked fantastic and because they are rookies, they should also be tight, but you don’t know how they will handle the pressure, all the eyes on them, the revealing outfits, the unbridled sex—
Around thirty seconds now. You grab your trousers and feel blood rushing out of your legs. Feet tingle, the tips of your fingers as well. This pill, it has your heart racing somewhere, racing from something, to anything. Eyes tremble, vision blurrier than the glass before you, behind you, around you. 
You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time.
With a loud hiss, the porthole to your left swings open, wide open, flooding your entirely empty room with copious amounts of fog and the smell of fresh fruits. The vibrant color scheme of pastel pink, magenta, light purple and white fills your view as you step into what looks like Princess Peach’s private castle, its kitchen, living room and bedroom. It’s like one explosion of cuteness and innocence, quite charming, very fake.
“Oh, he’s already here. Look, Barbie!”
“That’s not my name, Yiren. Hello, handsome stranger!”
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The two girls fit the concept of the room perfectly. Such bright smiles, happiness pouring from their cute little faces; you knew they would nail this performance the moment you saw their pictures and heard their voices. Wonyoung, the tall girl with her incredibly long legs truly looks like a Barbie doll: tiny ribbons adorn her endless chocolate hair while the pink crop top and straight denim skirt make you want to play with her all night, undress her everywhere.
Yiren on the other hand blends in with the room to such a degree, you’d assume they cannot be sold separately. The chinese girl boasts hair the color of peaches, her tight white dress sparkles because of small, silver details spread across it, while her face leaves no doubt that she is, in fact, a princess. 
The two get closer to you, before Wonyoung starts to speak up again, her voice in a sassy, yet genuinely adorable pitch.
“Aw, are you shy? No need to be, we’re all here to have fun. Isn’t that right, Yiren?”
“You’re right, Barbie. Let’s play some games and make it a night we won’t forget,” Yiren adds, quieter and calmer than Wonyoung, with a smile that warms the heart.
“S-sure,” you respond to the two girls bouncing up and down in front of you like hyped up kangaroos. “B-but what are we going to play?”
“You see,” Wonyoung starts. “Yiren and I are a team and we have a mission to fulfill. Can you help us?”
“I’d love to, but what is the mission?”
Yiren turns towards Wonyoung, who’s already grinning at her. They share a nod and Yiren suddenly wraps herself around one of your arms, while Wonyoung occupies the other. Feel their slender bodies rub on your limbs, their natural heat and rapid heartbeats working towards your own, increasing it with every step they guide you towards a bed in the corner of the room. It’s at least double queensized, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.
“Let me explain it to you,” Wonyoung says and climbs atop the purple sheets. “Our mission is to make this bed as wet as possible.”
“Well that sounds easy,” you respond. “Just get some tap water and dump it on here.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Yiren whispers in your ear and suddenly places her hands all over your back and chest. 
“No tap water, only natural juices are allowed,” Wonyoung hums and her hands casually open her skirt. It falls on the bed and she is quick to kick it away. She looks even more tempting and ruinable in her tiny tight panties with a wet teddy bear on the front. “We need your help to get these juices out of us, pretty please?”
“Yes, pretty please?” Yiren adds and cups the bulge in your pants. “It will be so much fun, I promise. Doesn’t Barbie look tight? Don’t you want to fuck her until she bursts?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Splendid,” Wonyoung laughs and throws away her crop top as well. Meanwhile Yiren finds the hem of your pants and tugs them down oh-so easily, the only resistance is your hard member, which Yiren promptly points at her team partner who has her legs spread invitingly. 
She’s so hot.
As if she read your mind, Yiren tempts you into finally going hard:
“She looks so hot. Go fuck her.”
Like a tiger desperate for food, you crawl onto the bed and tackle your prey into a mountain of teddy bears. Your fingers find the very specific teddy bear on Wonyoung’s panties, you push it to the side to find a pink slit. A final look at her glistening eyes before you press your cock onto her equally glistening slit and after some adjustments, you enter her. 
Wonyoung shrieks cutely, her thin fingers wrap around your biceps’ and she holds onto them as you start to slowly pump into her. The two of you need time to realize where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re doing it. All acting for the camera is gone in this bliss, at least for a couple of seconds. Then it all comes back with Yiren, eagerly who jumps on the bed as well.
“You need to hurry up, we don’t have forever.”
You slip a hand under Yiren’s dress to quickly shut her up. No panties.
“How about you start helping, princess,” you fight back. “Go rub Wonyoung’s clit while you ride my fingers. Oh, and Wonyoung.”
“Ye-yes?” the young girl moans.
“Open your mouth wide. I need you to drool on these.”
Both Yiren’s pussy lips and Wonyoung’s normal lips—though their lusciousness and thickness is far from mere ‘normal’—part as soon as your fingers graze them. The latter is quick to slobber all over them while you recklessly pump them into her; Yiren still has reservations and instead opts to look at you with adorable glassy eyes.
“I-I feel so full,” she moans, shivers throughout her entire body. You softly smile at her and start to curl your fingers, purposefully dragging them alongside her walls while your palm reaches her clit. “Ah, i-it feels—”
Holy shit. Whatever chemical they put into this pill, it has a tendency to just kill your patience. In what can only be described as a loss of all control, your body only moves towards fulfilling the mission. Your fingers start to violently pump into Yiren’s pussy and Wonyoung’s mouth, both quickly spilling liquids out of them. Especially Wonyoung, the Barbie girl below you, becomes a dispenser of juices when you violently fuck into her tight pussy.
“Too fast, ah!” Yiren screams, her hands wrapped around your wrist, unable to prevent the surge of lust in your body. 
“Fuck, sorry. I can’t stop me.” You groan, not really sorry about the stuff happening to you, to them and—oh God! Wonyoung’s tiny frame, those cute hard abs, get bulged by your massive erection. A bit of skin and muscles, pushed up by your relentless thrusts, and she is also seeing it. Is she panicking, losing her mind to how you violate almost her entire body?
Her pussy is quick to give you an answer: like a broken, public fountain, she shoots water at you, suddenly soaking your body in her warm pussy juices. With their strong, lewd smell they are the perfect liquid to stain the sheets, more than your balls or her drool can produce. Much to your dismay, most of the nectar gets stuck on you. 
“Fuck, turn around,” you command the thin fuckdoll and because she is too enamored by her heavy orgasm—her tiny thighs and long legs trembling up high in the air—you grab her hips and spin her around. Now in Doggy, you keep her upright by pulling her chestnut colored hair and plunge back into her still twitching cunt.
Wonyoung is completely overwhelmed. Instead of the cute, girlie moans you’d expect from her pretty lips, she grunts uncontrollably, her voice still hoarse from your fingers that played with her mouth. The grunts, however, are nothing compared to the wet sounds coming from her pussy as you thrust into the warm cavern, desperate to get more out of it. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” both you and Wonyoung groan. The tips of her fingers dig deep into a soft stuffed toy while yours knead her soft butt. The sight of it is amazing; not a big dumpy, like you’ve seen on countless actresses, but so flawlessly smooth with an impossibly tiny asshole you one day need to get your tongue into.
“Pl-please, me-me too.”
Yiren crawls closer to you, her skirt pulled up, her cunt a leaking mess that needs something inside it. The live action fucking in front of her has her on the edge, ready to do her part to fulfill the mission, but you are too mesmerized by Wonyoung. 
“Wony, lick her pussy. Get your tongue into her, fuck!” you shout, lost in your frenzy.
The barely thinking, barely functioning Barbie gets her hands onto Yiren’s thighs, at first only breathing, hissing, moaning into the princess’ crotch. It’s enough for Yiren to finally take the lead, forcing Wonyoung’s face straight onto her puffy lips, and the younger surrenders. She kisses and licks all over Yiren’s delicious cunt, the bundle of nerves atop it never left out. Yiren shudders.
“Oh God, oh Go~d, fuck!”
Yiren is louder than a fucking bomb when she explodes onto Wonyoung’s face and more importantly, the bed. Her nectar splashes all over the sheets, their color darkening beneath her knees. Finally, the three of you have made significant progress, and you are eager to make more. Especially Wonyoung seems to be more turned on than before; her pussy is even tighter, her walls ripple as she continues to eat Yiren out. 
“You like that, huh? Your face deep in her pussy?” you ask her and give her cute ass a firm spank. “Such a dirty princess!” 
“Yesh!” Wonyoung shouts, pressing her behind into your pistoning cock. 
“You like my cock fucking you senseless, getting into your insides? You want it all, deeper?”
“Yesh, pleash!”
“Try to push me out, Wonyoung, squeeze me with your stupid little pussy!”
“Ah, shit, fuck! I’m—”
Yiren shuts her team partner up by grinding on her face. It’s enough to send Wonyoung into an orgasmic frenzy—again—and the moment you pull out, she squirts—again—everywhere. It was amazing, absolute bliss for you, but you are not there yet. You need to cum, inside a hot, clenching hole and so you disrupt the two princess’ love making.
Yiren fits perfectly into your hand. She is almost as light as Wonyoung, so you pick her up and place her on the head of the bed. The young woman is still frozen in surprise, her eyes uncertain, then shocked when you spread her legs wide and align your cock with her pussy.
“Oh God, it’s t-too big,” she whines even before you’re inside her.
“You can take it, Yiren, you’re such a good and pretty princess,” you mindlessly groan as you stare at her, then her nipple peeking out above her increasingly bunched up dress. “Now cum all over me.”
Yiren is too easy. Only a few strokes of your cock alongside her velvety walls and her entire body ripples. It starts with her cunt, soon goes to her torso and limbs, before she squirts like a broken garden hose. If the bed was a garden, countless flowers would bloom in it—and Wonyoung wants to make sure you stay to help them. 
“You have to stay,” she whines. “Stay inside her and make her cum again.” She pushes you, forces you to almost slip inside Yiren again. From the corner of your eye however you see a red light, the indicator that you have to switch scenes right now.
“I think I did enough.” You pull away Wonyoung’s slender arms and Yiren’s feet trying to get you back inside her. “Get some toys or use your fingers. I’m not playing for your team, you need to play together.”
Yeah, sure, something like that was in the script. Luckily, even these two remember that the show must go on. At least Wonyoung does. The Barbie gets handsy, waving you goodbye while plunging her beautiful, long fingers into Yiren's cunt. What a waste that you won’t cum on those digits tonight.
"Have fun~" Wonyoung cheers as you disappear from her view, towards the next porthole which is already open.
Before you can take in the next setting fully, a nude, masked woman greets you by pulling your face down into her sizable cleavage.
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"Quick, get him in here," another voice, feminine yet deep, straightforward yet mysterious, calls and you feel hands all over your body, as they drag you into the room. You only catch glimpses of its interior, a dark, unsettling dungeon with iron bars and cold, smooth walls, akin to the setting of certain Japanese videos you—a friend of yours—used to watch—for scientific reasons.
"Here, pin him down."
That voice just now is truly incredible, if only you could see who it belongs to. Unluckily, you only get to see the ceiling as four hands throw you onto a table. Those two are strong, you think, because your back hurts at the impact.
Suddenly, your view gets replaced by a smooth pussy and jiggly thighs trapping your head on the wooden surface. You take deep breaths, the strong smell of arousal quickly filling your nose. A finger boldly flicks your cockhead.
"Oh, you're really turning him on, Gah," the other woman says, your pulsating cock in her fist. "Ride his face, and I think we’ll get our first points soon."
"Wh-who are you?" you barely squeeze out, words drowned out by drowning in Gahyeon's pussy juice.
"I'm Swan, but we don't have time for that. We need to win this game, which is why you have to suffer.
"Sorry, by the way."
Before you can respond, Swan's fist goes up and down your length with the violence and speed of a raging tiger, ready to fucking destroy you. Tears spawn in your eyes, precum at your tip. She drives you to the edge and keeps you there with rhythmic pumps while you imagine her face in horny delight.
"Is he there yet?" Gahyeon asks, her voice raspy and cruel.
"Why don't you ask him?" Swan responds and twirls her tongue around your balls. You twitch.
Gahyeon lifts a leg and her deadly eyes stare through a terrifying mask right at you. "Tell me when you're about to explode,” she snarks and to put emphasis on her following words, she presses a long finger nail into your abdomen. “If not, I'll kill you.
“And start licking, for fucks sake.”
She plants herself back down before you can answer. She can live with your eager tongue on her thick folds as an analogical agreement. Through Gahyeon’s almost soundproof thighs you hear her passionate groans and Swan’s continuous spitting in her hands and on your cock to get you wet and ready for more of her soft hands. 
You can’t deny that they are excellent. Yiren and Wonyoung both had tight, cozy holes, but something about Swan grabbing your dick and mercilessly pumping and twisting it makes your spine tingle. She quickly gets you to arch your back and moan into Gahyeon’s pussy, which has started to glide back and forth over your visage.
“Such a nice cock,” Swan moans. “Look at it, Gah! The head is already burning, I can feel that he’s close.”
Swan puts her second hand on your base and presses her lubed up palm on your underside while she starts to destroy your tip with violent pumps. She is a vicious succubus, trying to get your seed out efficiently without care for your sensitivity. With Gahyeon using your face like a saddle, your mind is left on hold when you loudly tap the table to signal your imminent arrival.
“Swan, now!”
The moment Gahyeon shouts, Swan is gone. No more delicate fingers to hold you, no more fists to jerk you, nothing to stimulate you. You thrust your hips up into air, unable to cum, unable to get your well-deserved release. Those fleeting seconds where you want only one thing are absolutely ruined by not getting this one thing—and then it’s over. You come back down with a devastated sigh. 
“That’s one,” Gahyeon says and looks down at you in between her legs. “But we need more.”
“I agree,” Swan says, adjusting her position in between your shivering legs. “Get him to cooperate, I’ll do the rest.”
Gahyeon once again is faster than your attempts at remonstration. She puts her small hand on your throat and carefully increases the amount of weight on it. You gasp in dread before Swan places your still hard cock in the valley of her enormous tits. The valley then turns to a compressed trap where only your glans peeks out. 
'Oh fuck', you want to, need to scream but it's futile with Gahyeon's enthusiasm to rub her labia on your lips. Swan shows a very similar need to torture you, her hands eagerly digging into the flesh of her melons and moving them up and down—both at the same time, then at different times, faster, then slower but with more pressure—is she trying to get you killed? 
Death by titfuck. That will be an eyecatching epitaph. 
"Do it faster," Gahyeon orders her teammate emphatically. "We need to get the score up."
"I know," Swan says, her voice a bit strained. "It's just unfair, you know? Getting him ready again and all that. But I think, fuck, we’re getting there. Look at his tip, isn't it cute?"
Swan licks the slit on your cockhead, cleaning the precum from it and you have to tap out again. You are so close once more, but a terrible gut feeling lets you doubt that you will cover Swan's tits with your cream. You’ve never felt so sick about being right, when she pops you free from the heavens between her large breasts.
They are right there, God dammit.
"That's number two!" Swan gleefully shouts and looks at your pole, pointing at the sky, sensitive and ready to explode, but your balls turn blue again. This can't be healthy, with how frustrated it makes you.
"Use your mouth this time, Swan—"
"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something for once?"
"Huh? We agreed on this earlier! I'm doing my part! Look, he can't even say a word."
"Pl-please," you interrupt the girls' discussion. "Let me, please, let me cum already!"
"Sorry, pal." Swan's voice is soft, and her tongue on your dick is even softer. "But we need to ruin you even more. That's how we're going to win."
"Th-then ruin your own orgasms," you plead with numbness in your mouth, caused by Swan's mouth on your barely numb manhood. "Th-this is cruel."
"He's got a point," Gahyeon thinks out loud. "Ah, fuck this game. If you can get me close, boy, I'll let you escape."
This might be your only chance to get out of this vicious cycle of ruined orgasm and painful edging. So you actually channel all your focus of your lips, tongue and teeth—whatever Gahyeon likes—on her clit. It's surprisingly easy to make her thighs around your ears squirm; Gahyeon's pussy is now wetter than Swan's mouth wrapped around your cockhead.
Suddenly, Swan gives you everything. She forces you to bottom out in her mouth, grow to full hardness once more while she violently gags. She might have been in absolute control over you for the last couple of minutes, but she is perfectly able to make her mouth a slutty hole for your cock. A soft, dominant deepthroat queen with massive tits—she is going to be a super star.
In a surge of ecstasy, fueled by Gahyeon's sweet juice, you buckle your hips upwards and force Swan to choke a little longer on your length. The young woman is not irritated however. After a single breathe she is back to going up and down you cock, sucking along it until your fucking dead. 
You know she's going to ruin it again and the only way to pay them back is by ruining Gahyeon's orgasm as well. You finger the pussy above you and quickly flick the blood-filled lips and nub, until she cries out. Then you stop, then Swan stops. She is the only one satisfied—another two points for her team.
You blink a couple of times. Gahyeon, groaning like an enraged bull, has the busty Swan pinned to the metal bars of this dungeon and with all her hatred, slaps the younger's wet cunt.
"Now it's your turn, bitch!"
"Ouch, stop!"
"No. I want to win and you want to win too, so you better ruin yourself on my fingers. Now!"
This is your cue to leave. The dungeon fills with Swan's deep grunts and groans as she finally gets to witness what she put you through again and again and again. You'd love to help Gahyeon; there will be no need for it though. The masked girl is willing to do whatever is necessary to win.
Across from the dungeon, the second to last door is already open. The room mimics a dimly lit laundromat with a dozen or so washing machines. You step inside, cock in your carefully stroking hand. After all, you’ll have to be hard for the next scene, which will be the complete opposite of the last. 
“Hello? Can somebody help me?” someone cries (let’s be honest, it’s much closer to a desperate moan) from behind a pile of freshly dried laundry atop a clothes rack. There is a sincere lack of intelligence in that cry, like said person is unable to help themselves. Makes you feel chivalrous. 
“Hey, how can I—help you?”
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The sight you find behind the pile has your speech a bit halted, interrupted by how, in a room made for washing clothes, someone is severely lacking them: A gorgeous, busty blonde, in nothing but modest, white underwear, though you notice that the bra is at least a size too small and unable to fully carry the weight of her tits.
"Oh, please help me," she moans again. "I think I've picked the wrong bra for me. Can you help me cover so no one can see my boobies while I look for the next?"
What the fuck? This is so fucking stupid on so many levels. How could she—and why would she suggest—what is even happening? The cliche about blondes must be true, because this one is not only dumb as fuck, but also hotness at it's peak. From bust to bottom, no, even to her toes, her body is amazing and tempting.
"Uhm, sure, why not. Can I know your name first?" you politely ask while not so politely getting behind her and cupping her breasts.
"I'm Somi. Thank God your hands are so big, no one can see my boobies now, hihi."
Is it innate for her to sound this silly? If not for this setting, you’d be worried; no human can ever be this stupid, only a buffoon would act in such a way. But maybe Somi’s IQ is just a bit lower than the average person—or maybe she knows no boundaries? The rules of public decency and inappropriate, sexual exposure might be foreign to her? You don’t know. You just know that her boobs are soft and bouncy, two handfuls of pillows to rest your head upon, of stress balls to knead when you are, you know, stressed.
You seem to know a lot more than her, especially because she still tries to find a bra able to hold up her breasts in the midst of clothes which all have two things in common: they are colorful and they are skimpy. It’s like the laundry of a whorehouse with how many short and skin tight skirts, dresses, fishnet stockings you find, let alone the short tops or all the lingerie. Speaking of which, Somi has finally found a bikini top that might be able to do the deed your hands are gleefully doing. 
“Do you think this one is good?” she asks, holding up a new, purple bra while you slightly press at the bottom of her tits to watch them wobble on your finger tips. 
“Try it out, because I’m not so sure with your massive boobs.”
Somi giggles and tries to put on the bra. You leave enough room, really, you do, for her to tie up the thin strands, but Somi is unable to. She mewls a couple of times before you go in and securely tie up the strands yourself. You are promptly rewarded, because the blonde decides to bend down and press her ass back against your crotch, your exposed cock, rapidly hard again at the touch of her cotton panties. 
“Thank you, again,” Somi says and pushes her chest up for all to see. “What do you think, is this good?”
“Somi, is it possible that you are fucking stupid?” Oh, that sounded a lot harsher than it should have. The tension is quickly palpable. You hear someone gasp from the other end of the room.
“W-why?” Somi’s question is abashed, a bit shocked; even in this state of complete bimboness, she still looks so good. 
“Because these bottoms don’t fit your top,” you say and pull at the side of her panties until they snap off of her hips. “You should change them. White and purple don’t fit together all too well.”
Somi looks down at her cleavage, the purple lace engulfing her tits, then to her thighs which have been parted by your cock. The tip peaks from in between her legs and you softly groan out the pleasure her perfect gap gives you into her ear. There is no mere hint of slickness from her heat, there are ridiculous amounts of evidence of it, proof spreading all over. It’s a clear case of horniness, you better resolve the issue immediately. 
“You’re right,” Somi mumbles, thighs swaying. “I should look for the right bottoms. They should be in here.” Things couldn’t get any better, because now Somi is bending over, hands in the pile of clothes, while your hands are in the plentifulness of her ass. You hold her steady, align your cock with a hole that looks so ready to get fucked and then push forward. Somi almost stumbles forward, but you save her from making an even greater mess of this place by continuing to make a mess out of her. 
“Oh God,” she moans, a pink crop top in hands. “I-I can’t find it.”
“Continue, continue searching,” you groan back and slam your hips forward, then backwards, your cock entering and exiting her cunt at will—your will is strong, overpowering every small exhaustion in chase of that first true release of this messy pornographic shoot, a shoot where teams fight to win, yet this “team” does not even have a target goal.
Somi’s goal is to be stupid, oblivious to your cock gaping her pussy open time and time again, and for this being her first time on cam, she is excellent. Of course, her dumb moans can’t be deactivated, you doubt even a ball gag can fully do that, but a benevolent interpretation of this scene allows for these moans to be of desperation. Somi just really wants to find these purple bikini bottoms—your cock spreading her pussy and the camera lens on it is just a side product. 
“Da-damnit, fuck,” Somi seems to give up, defeatedly grabbing the edge of the table while you hold onto her shoulders to get faster, deeper inside of her. “They are not h-here.”
“Maybe you need to take a step back and look at it from afar,” you tell her and all it takes is a pull at her shoulders and Somi stands straight up. From now on, your thrusts go upwards and Somi can casually bounce along while her dizzy eyes try to process the color purple amidst a pile so colorful, every pride parade would become envious. 
Your arms instinctively wrap around Somi’s small waist. You need to keep her here, can’t let her get away, not when you are this close to finally cumming. Your balls are aching, your tip is stimulated and you know that it will be glorious. Somi’s body, from a face that could make news just for its beauty, paired with a pair of perky, large boobs, amplified by a tight, muscular midriff, killer hips and strong, full thighs, she has to be everyone’s type. 
People will click on her videos millions of times, yet you are about to be the first to cream her, you can call dibs on that pussy, no male rival co-star stands a chance. Your cock is ready, your legs able to give more power into the final thrusts when suddenly—
“Oh, I found it!”
—Somi leans forward, hand stretched out, ready to grab what has always been on top of this entire pile, in your view forever, in everyone’s view forever, only Somi took forever to find it: purple panties. No, they can’t ruin your perfect orgasm. You heartlessly push Somi against the table, head first into the laundry. Her scream now muffled by a dozen of clothes in her face, you manically fuck your load into her doggy until cum floods her cavern and clothes flood the laundromat floor.
Every part of you is twitching, so is Somi and her pussy. A bit more, a bit more, she squeezes out of you, but she is full. In the midst of all this chaos, this silly, flushed bitch was able to grab the panties. You give her tits a harsh slap to awaken her from the cock induced slumber. 
“Put them on, quick, before we make a bigger mess.”
Somi obliges, though shaky. You help her by holding onto her hips, her tits, all those things you could grab forever. When your shaft falls out of her pussy and you watch her catch most of your load with the tight panties, you want to push them to the side and just fuck her full pussy again. That’s when you notice someone down the aisle of washing machines—is it Somi’s teammate?
“Who the fuck is th—”
“Help, I’m stuck!”
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This one is a classic. A trope so beyond stereotypical, everyone knows it. Just like the dumb blonde, this one can be found on every porn site ever. The only thing missing is that she calls you stepbro. That would be a bit too much though. Her ass sticking out of one of the washing machines while she absolutely tries to get back out of it is already cliche enough to you.
Oh yeah, she’s also completely naked.
“Oh no, Yuna is stuck!” Somi states the exposition for the viewer, who is utterly uninvolved in the engaging plot they stopped paying attention to since this video's thumbnail. “We need to help her!”
Somi waddles towards her partner. You see trails of cum running down her legs,  unceremoniously dropping to the floor and making a lewd, sticky mess of it. She seems unbothered, just like you, and the camera absolutely loves it. The view then switches from this to a new, exposed and impressively large ass.
“Help, help,” Yuna shouts again, metallic reverberation unable to dampen the stupidness in her voice. You had filmed a scene like this one already, but there are no complaints whatsoever. As long as you can get your hands on Yuna’s ass, pull those cheeks apart and get the first view of those two smooth, clean holes, why would you complain?
“How did this happen, Yuna?” Somi asks worriedly, arms alongside Yuna’s frame, definitely ‘pulling’ on her teammate's waist, while your mind imagines all the ways you could rim Yuna for hours.
“I wanted to pull my underwear out of here,” she responds with a whine. “But now I am stuck!”
Go figure, she is brainless as well. Both of them are, but nature has instead given them the envy of millions of women: divine bodies that are effortlessly sexy and beautiful. Smooth skin, toned legs, curves to die for—in your admiration you notice that your energy is returning quicker than ever before. 
It might not fit the story, the narrative, the game, but in this moment of bliss, you couldn’t care less. Knees bend, cock guided by your thumb, you press your tip against Yuna’s ring and find the entry into her asshole to be a lot easier than expected. Her moan bounces through the washing machine just like her boobs bounce in surprise. 
Confusion has Somi frozen, her body only reacting when you put force in your thrusts, enough power to make Yuna hit her dumb head against the back of the washing drum. A profuse whimper made metallic, not that you care, but Somi seems to get back into the real world where she is still as moronic as before. 
“H-how is this supposed to help Yuna?” 
It’s not. Tell her that. Tell her and Somi will continue complaining like this without getting any pleasure from you. Serves her right, won’t make the scene any better though, thus you find her neck with your hand and find her eyes with yours. They sparkle knowingly. 
“You really are the dumbest thing alive.”
A pull and Yuna is out of the drum. Blonde hair flows down her back, hides her frail shoulders and in the reflection of the metal drum you see her lips in a light, glistening pink. They are full and made for sucking. In the sea of her endless, golden hair, your hand twists and twists until Yuna voluntarily raises herself from the ground and arches her back towards you. Your goal is not to kiss her lips (though that would be one hell of an experience) but to drown her in Somi’s cleavage.
“What are you—Yuna! No, don’t pull it down, I-I just found it.”
Sweat evaporates from your temple when you see those lips wrap around one of Somi’s nipples and begin to lewdly suck on it. The thrill is engaging, Yuna’s ass invites you back in and it’s with ease that you fuck her puckered hole. You poke the depths of this suffocating cavern and Yuna begins to poke all over Somi’s body. The dumber blonde hesitates briefly, hands first on her thighs, then Yuna’s until she ends up below her friend. 
“Now you are trapped,” Yuna giggles and drool leaves her mouth in purposefully large amounts, able to transform the valley between Somi’s tits into a canal. 
“You two are so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck your hot bodies.”
You are starting to lose it, for every word they utter, your intelligence gets insulted but your arousal heightened. You spank Yuna’s ass and she tightens to the point where you need to give it your all to fuck her faster. What an odd time to notice that they haven’t told you their task yet. How can you help them get points? Shit, what was in the script again? Are you really that much smarter if you can’t remember?
“Yuna, Yuna, that feels so good,” Somi moans out and sways on the floor from side to side until you press Yuna right on top of her. With their incredible bodies entangled and you nonstop fucking into the tight ass, their sensitive spots have to rub each other, nipples on nipples, clits on clits, and Somi is the first to collapse. “Oh my God, I-I’m about to wet my panties, oh no, Yuna!”
“Me too, my butt, I’m going to cum from my butt!” Yuna’s silly fucked body, and her silly face and her silly feminine voice have you on the verge to become silly as well. Both blonde’s indulge in their wet, heavy orgasms and you push your tip back into Yuna so many times that you flood her with a pent up load that momentarily shuts down your brain.
So this is how they feel all the time—brainless but blissful. At least stupid bitches fuck good.
“Oh, Somi, there, there is so much in my ass~”
“Really? Can I feel it?”
Somi puts two fingers against Yuna’s puckered hole, but before she can get a scoop of your load that is still hidden in the tightly clenching butt, Yuna stands up. “No, Somi, ew,” Yuna shouts, moans, something in between, again. “You have to eat it straight from the butt, like this.”
You are back in the hub room, all the rooms finally open. Before you make your way to the last room, you decide to take a quick look into each scene you’ve already participated in that only users that buy the premium pass (which is off 69%, only today on k-jizzers.cum) can still watch: 
In the first room, Wonyoung and Yiren sit on the edge of the bed, fingering each other's pussies until they violently squirt all over the mattress. Both of them look sweaty and exhausted, but they continue to drink water and share saliva to go for another round. Stay hydrated, everyone.
“Let’s do this, Barbie, I know your tiny body can cum again!”
“O-okay, b-but only if you kiss me.”
In the second room, Swan is fully naked, her backside turned to you. She is tied to the metal bars with handcuffs on both of her wrists. Below her is Gahyeon, thrusting a dildo up into that tiny tight cunt, while her own hole is stuffed with a loud bullet vibrator. They are really committed to this game.
“I swear, Swan, if you cum again, I’ll kick your ass, literally!”
“S-sorry, Mommy, I try, try, try—I’m so close!”
In the third room, well, those blondes finally found a way to snowball your cum, not from mouth to mouth, but ass to mouth. Yuna sits on Somi’s face, head thrown back, unable to not moan as your white spunk oozes out of her. Bon Appetit. 
“Oh God, don’t put your tongue in!”
“But he tastes so good, let me be greedy this one time.”
The final room is a classroom, unmistakably. It has an old blackboard, a long desk for the teacher, smaller desks and chairs for the pupils. No matter when or where you’ve been to school, this will surely evoke memories of forgotten homework, endless lessons and bratty students.
 “Ew, is that the new guy?” you hear someone complain from across the room, disgust in her voice, fingernails rapidly typing on her phone. 
“Oh yeah, but what did you expect? At least he gives some big dick energy,” a response follows promptly, though this time they both look up from their phones and stare at you. You quickly find coverage behind the teachers desk to hide your manhood. A miserable attempt that has one of the girls outraged. 
“Ayo, what the fuck? Do you think you’re some kind of teacher now?”
“Maybe he is here to teach us a lesson, lol.”
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Did the girl on the left, in her messed up blouse and way-too-short checkered skirt, the waistband of a light brown thong on display, just like her midriff and navel—did she just say ‘lol’ out loud? Well, at this point the viewer will neither cringe or notice, too good is this material, too hot their bodies. 
“Maybe he is here to teach you a lesson for breaking the dress code,” the girl adds as she approaches the desk. 
“Yeri, you—you’re worse than me! Everyone can see your bra, what the fuck,” the other girl shouts and goes in for a slap on Yeri’s butt. The impact has you peeking out as a small melee breaks out.
“At least I tried, Yeojin, unlike you. Where is your skirt, your blouse? I can almost see your tits.” Yeri reaches for Yeojin’s chest, which is covered by this tiny, one piece swimsuit, so tiny in fact, even Yeojin’s small body seems to spill out of it. When there is so much shortness, of course Yeojin’s shorts are no different. Her shorts are actually shorter than Yeri’s skirt, which is already quite short—
“You tried?” Yeojin shrieks and tugs at Yeri’s blouse, accidentally undressing her. Who could have known, the bra below is actually a bikini top. “It’s falling off of your body.”
“Ts,
“Hey, you fucker! Get out already, we got some beef to settle.”
Yeri kicks the desk and you hear pencils roll down from it. They surely have not forgotten about you and your assumed big dick energy, so it was no use to continue hiding. You crawl out and straighten your posture, clearly taller than the two young women who don’t waste time looking up and gawking at the height difference. Both sets of hands go straight to your abdomen, your crotch, your cock. Yeojin is the first to pump, rubbing her fishnet sleeves carelessly over your sensitive tip.
“Watch it,” you hiss and get fistfuls of their hair, which to your surprise does not faze them at all. “You two are running your mouth, spewing bullshit. This is no way how you should treat people older and taller than you.”
Yeri frees herself easily from your grasp and you gasp when her knuckles dig into your stomach. It wasn’t really a punch, but somehow, she has you stunned. A smirk appears on her feisty features. “Watch it, asshole. This is our classroom, you’re the one below us. If you want some respect, don’t flex with your height. Flex with something else. Proof your worth.”
“O-oh yeah? And how should I do this?”
“Fuck us,” Yeojin casually says and pulls back the skin on your cock to the point it hurts and all the surging blood forces you to peak stiffness. “You get points for every position, the more creative, the better. Show us that this thing is more ‘do-er’ than ‘show-er’.”
Their eyes are the epitome of ‘fuck-me’ eyes, hell, they imagined fucked you the moment you entered, and in your mind, you’ve fucked them in every conceivable way possible. With all this imaginary fuckery, it’s about due time for the real fucking to start, though it’s definitely bugging you that these small, bratty girls get to start it off and lead the way. 
Guess your positions have to be rough.
“Fine,” you sigh and get ready to push Yeojin down to her knees, but there is no need. She takes the short fall and her lips aggressively wrap around your tip before you can overthink your decision. 
“No need to agree, it wasn’t up to you anyway,” Yeri laughs and you feel her fingers roam your upper body, everything from butt, back, nape to stomach and chest. She lingers there for a long time, cupping your pecs while you imagine cupping her surprisingly big tits—then Yeri dives in and starts to suck one of your nipples, while Yeojin bops her head back and forth. 
“You tiny bitches.” They make it hard to breathe, their sluttiness and sloppiness is excellent, their enthusiasm matches that of Wonyoung. “You greedy, evil little things. You’ll regret that.”
“We’ll see about that,” Yeojin moans when your cock pops from her luscious lips and you’re back to receiving harsh, painful pumps from her fishnet clad hands. “What’s stopping you, huh?”
Nothing, really, so you don’t keep them waiting any longer. You reach into the back of Yeri’s bikini bottoms while simultaneously finding a good grip on Yeojin’s ponytail. A bit of adjusting on both ends, suddenly there is nothing but sounds of horniness, of rampant, uncensored sex. Well, there is of course a lot more than that, but who could think of anything else—
—but Yeojin’s cock-sucking lips sucking cock. They are the only thick thing on this miniscule rookie pornstar. You jerk your hips forward and her nose meets your base. You keep it that way as her tight throat struggles with your size and saliva spills from her lips. 
Yeojin’s gags seem to turn on Yeri, her wet pussy dripping on your fingers as you rub it, never too fast, to keep her on the edge to—yeah, teach her a lesson. Look at that needy face, that heaving bosom, she is so desperate for more stimulation, but could never admit to it. Yeri’s pride keeps her from begging for your fingers to twirl inside her cunt.
“Is that really how you want to do it?” That’s as close to a beg as you will get from Yeri, nonetheless, you’ll give her more rubs. All this struggle is unbeknownst to the viewer, who can only see Yeri’ ecstatic face and wide open mouth as you finally insert two digits in her cunt. “That’s better, fuck.”
“Ride my fingers, Yeri. Impress me, and I’ll fuck you on the desk.”
“You, you will either way,” she chirps back, voice about to break when you thrust knuckles deep and curl, all while making Yeojin your sex doll. 
Those gags of hers have become too dangerous though, so you take a step back and intensely watch as Yeojin coughs up lots and lots of saliva, letting it run down her pretty little face, her throat that was just stuffed like some obscene christmas chicken. In disbelief you watch her wipe her tears away and grin on, as if she wasn't just fighting for her life. Nothing can get Yeojin down, her brattiness is unreal.
Yeri does not seem amused at the lack of attention you give her. She pulls your hand out of her pussy and waddles towards the desk. In a burst of creativity, you grab her and slam her on the desk, on her back. Yeri winces in pain, but you already have her entrance exposed and filled before she can complain. And complain, she shall never again.
“Fuck, so big, be ca-care-ful!”
“Now that’s—oh God, you’re tight—now that’s not what I expected from you,” you groan manically, as you pin Yeri down with both your eyes and hands. “Shut up and take it. I want to see your tits bounce.”
Out of nowhere, Yeojin’s thin hand creeps under the thin string of Yeri’s bikini top and pulls it off. Finally, you can see those modest breasts swing freely while you do what you’re best at: plunging your fat cock into a wet cunt. Yeri moans, in a deep craze, deep pleasure, her hips grind in circles so you have to pin her down harder, hands in the soft flesh above those hips—just fuck faster and lose your mind.
“Yeri, your pussy looks so full,” Yeojin giggles and brushes stray hair out of her friend’s ecstatic face. “Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum?”
“No-no, never—”
“Oh great, cuz I won’t let you,” you promptly say and pull out of that stretched hole, gaped and absolutely desperate for an orgasm that was right around the corner. A few more pumps and Yeri would have been gone, her first on cam climax was so close.
But now it’s Yeojin’s turn. After all you want those points—or is it their points? You don’t care, you just hook your arms underneath her thighs and pick her up. She’s as light as she looks and her pink cavern is as snug as you anticipate. Yeojin holds onto your neck for stability, while you split her open further and further and when she leans into you, you feel your cock bulge her.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s the spot.” Use Yeojin like a fleshlight, an upgrade to her sex doll mouth, and she surrenders to the pleasure. Wasn’t this supposed to be Team Bratty or something? This is more—
“Team Cockhungry, absolute sluts,” you shout at her but Yeojin is just mindless and her lips quiver anxiously whenever you’re not guiding her small body up and down your cock. “Yeri, get on the wall. Present your ass to me, if you want this cock again.”
Yeri nods, only focused on you. She needs a second to find orientation again, while you make Yeojin lose all orientation as you spin her around and fuck her full nelson. An insane idea by the producers, stand and carry sex for the finale, but with a girl this small, it’s actually possible. You are still the unrestrained engine that pistons and pistons until Yeojin is ready to burst.
“Not yet, not yet,” you coo as you ruin yet another orgasm. A wet pop when you remove yourself from what could be a perfect hole for cockwarming, breeding and many other lewd adventures. The industry will empty their pockets to get a video with this pocket pussy girl. But for now, she is all yours and quite dismayed.
“You, you dick, better make it up later,” Yeojin says, voice deeply judgemental. It has to be ignored, because first, you have to make it up for a certain someone who wasn’t satisfied with your fingers or a short missionary fuck. Yeri needs you again, deep and hard, while her fragile legs try to keep her upright.
You watch the side of her face, the lip bite, the palms flaking off the wallpaper, the thighs trapping you and your cock is already on her labia. Yeri rubs her love juice all over your rod and you follow her plea and take the lead with a thrust that can be heard around the world.
“Fuck, it’s deep, your cock is deep in my pussy.” The disbelief in her voice sounds genuine, just like the attempt to crawl up the wall to drop back down on your cock. Yeri wants you to hit her cervix, finally cumming all over you but you need to savor this position more.
“Deeper than anything else.” A hand in her hair, you press everything of her against the wall. “I know you like it deep, your best spots are there. You’re a slut for large cocks, you only want them while standing up.”
“No, I need them to pick me up! Lift me up and fuck me, break me open deeeeep!”
Yeri must have been so envious of Yeojin. You might have picked the wrong girl to lift on high and fill from below. You can still make it up though; Yeri’s tits are repurposed as handles to pull her back onto your chest, feet suddenly flying. You might be blinded by strands of her hair all over your face, but you can still feel the weight of Yeri down on your cock, while you’re still drilling into her. She is getting higher, not only physically, but mentally. She loves nothing more than to be watched while a huge shaft fucks her. The stimulation sends her into a sea of bliss, a deep ocean, like the puddle of girl cum beneath your feet. 
“I’m going to cum on your cock,” Yeri screams and tries to choke out a load from your balls, yet all she is choking you with is her hair on your face. “I love it, y-you can finish with me—”
The last time the camera captured someone cum so hard was about thirty minutes ago, either Wonyoung or Yiren, but unlike Team Princess next door, Yeri does it involuntarily. You pound the squirt out of her sloppy cunt until your legs become a slippery lubed mess and you almost slip on the cheap classroom floor. Yeri shouts and whines, the inside of her pussy still rippling when you pull out of it.
When you place Yeri back against the wall and feel the somewhat cold studio air brush past your erection, you realize that Yeri was close to getting you off too early. You are throbbing, surfing on the edge, almost getting blue balled. The only thing that can save you is Yeojin and the only thing you see is her ass, as she props herself up on all fours in between the chairs of—
Who counts chairs and who fucking cares? Just slam your cock into her ass and hear her screech in shock at the sudden fullness of her back entrance. There will be no ruined orgasm for you this time, Yeojin’s ass is your guarantee and you doubt her brattiness will return. Not when she moans so submissively. A question remains as you bury yourself repeatedly in Yeojin’s rectum: how can she be shocked when it's all lubed up and relaxed and eager to take you back inside like the pussy of a veteran porn star?
Yeojin really was born for this job. Her petite frame will be perfect for various porn sites related to kinks: size difference, stand and carry, small tits. The videos of her getting bulged will become legendary amongst the horniest or Reddit and Tumblr communities. Guys will have their way with her, her head will be spinning after some huge guys have her unconventionally spitroasted in the air or one of those tall, muscular women takes her for a ride on a strap-on. 
They won’t have to worry about anal from her, because Yeojin takes it legendarily, narrowing at just the right time to go beyond the audio-visual perfection that is her penetrated ass—in simpler words, it feels as good as it looks. She can rival Yuna or maybe form some butt slut dream team, that’s how fucking amazing fucking her ass is.
“Yeri get back here, I’m close,” you promptly announce whilst scoring again by forcing Yeojin into a prone position and marking her shoulders with tender bites. Yeri struggles to find footing, only able to push forward because of all the tables and chairs. When she finally reaches you, you give Yeojin your final pumps as her entire frame is struck by an orgasmic earthquake. 
In this day and age, everything has to be fast, even porn has to fit the 15 second shorts, reels, tiktok culture, so you start to cum in Yeojin and push Yeri to the ground at the same time. Then you reach for Yeri’s butt while holding back as many spurts as you can, to get her in this sweet piledriver and then paint both the outside and inside off her petite yet bubbly ass. It’s perfect for a short clip, that little teaser that plays when you’re about to click on the next JAV thumbnail on that shady site.
The HD or 4K settings across all screens can never do the real sight of a blissfully filled Yeri justice, as she eagerly spreads her own cheeks and everyone gets the awesome view of cum that seeps out of a gaped ass. The upside down (pretty, little, risky) baddie cleans off that hard-working cockwith her formerly bratty mouth. Deep exhales through her nose send a nice, warm stream of air around your base, which finally loses stiffness, the tension, it comes crashing down in the well-known post-nut clarity.
In this clarity however, you find Yeri’s final defiance; her lips will not let go of your cock and her tongue on your sensitive slit makes you curl your toes and whine out the agony which shoots up to your head like electric shocks. To top it all off, you feel Yeojin grin behind you when she wraps her slender arms around your midriff. This wasn’t in the script!
“The shooting might be over,” the tiny girl whispers. “But we are not done with you.”
“There are still a lot of points to be collected. 
“And you will collect all of them.”
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rafesmuse · 1 year
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Like a really rough sex tape oh and after care ofc and ima sucker for dom rafe.
thanks babes love youu 💋💋
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: smut, sex on camera, vaginal sex, degrading
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“Don’t be shy, baby. Show the camera how much of a fucking slut you are” Rafe groaned as he slammed into you at an unrelenting tempo, your tits bouncing with each thrust and your legs resting on his shoulders. You felt your cheeks heat up at the reminder that there was a camera pointed at you, your face shyly turning away from it. He quickly grabbed your face, making you pout, and looked sternly into your eyes.
“What did I fucking tell you?” he released his grip on you and pulled out, causing you to whine at the sudden empty feeling. “Make yourself useful for once and get on your knees, alright?” he demanded, your heart pounding out of your chest from a combination of nervousness and anticipation. “And face the camera. Show them your pretty fucked-out face” you complied and he immediately pushed back in, causing you to moan loudly at the sudden feeling. He slapped your ass roughly, causing you to jolt forward when you felt his hand sting on your ass. When he did it again, and again, you were certain it was going to leave a visible red imprint.
“My perfect little slut” Rafe gripped a handful of your hair and held your head up so that you were looking directly into the lens of the camera, your mouth agape. Rafe’s other hand travelled from your boobs down to your core, tracing quick circles on your swollen clit. Your vision began to blur at this point as your eyes rolled to the back of your head— you could feel your release nearing. Rafe moved his head closer to yours, feeling his hot breath on your skin as he whispered, “Gonna cum so deep inside of you. You want that, baby? Yeah?” You nodded with your eyes closed, unable to form any words.
“Thought so” he chuckled cockily as he increased his pace, repeatedly hitting your g-spot before pushing you over the edge. Your legs began to shake and you almost fell over if it wasn’t for his tight grip on your hair. He came right after you, spilling himself deep inside of you as you felt the familiar pool of warmness while he groaned. He slowed his movements, riding the both of you out of your highs before he pulled out carefully.
He reached over you to turn off the camera and immediately shifted his attention back to you, cupping your face with his strong hands and placing countless small kisses all over your face. His entire demeanour shifted the moment he turned the camera off, revealing his sweet and caring side. “You alright, baby? Was that too much?” he asked worriedly, but you shook your head right away. “No… no, that was amazing, Rafe” a relieved smile appeared on his face as he embraced you tightly and kissed the top of your head. “You did so well. Gonna run a bath for you and take good care of you, my pretty pretty girl”
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comments and reblogs are very very much appreciated!!
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yandere-daydreams · 5 months
Text
tw - non/con, gn!reader, somnophilia, oral sex, victim blaming, implied stalking, and obsessive behavior.
Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing.
He knows he's not the best guy out there, but if he's given a choice between saving a cat from a tree and pushing a stroller into oncoming traffic, there's a good chance he'll choose the cat. His students might give him a hard time, but he knows better than to take it to heart when Megumi says the only useful thing about his dutiful guardian in his platinum card or Maki claims he could be replaced with a low-level curse and they'd struggle to tell the difference. He's not a saint, sure, but he doesn't entirely miss the mark.
That's why you felt so comfortable tag-along with him on a mission that took you to the other side of the country, why you didn't panic when you found out the higher-ups expected you to share a single (admittedly, still bigger than he'd like for it to be) bed, why you didn't think twice before stripping down to a tank-top and sleeping shorts and passing out - too exhausted to care about sorcerer decorum. Because Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing. Gojo can normally, generally, almost always be trusted to do the right thing.
It's just that he can't be trusted to do the right thing right now.
It's not his fault, Gojo reasons as he stares unblinkingly at the mold-stained ceiling, doing his best not to let his eyes drift. He's a hot-blooded man in the prime of his life, and you're... well, you're you - beautiful, smart, oblivious you. It's not his fault that you looked so pretty in the dim light filtering in through cheap curtains, that the stuffy motel room was too hot to justify using the paper-thin bedsheets, that all your tossing and turning meant your shorts were starting to ride up your legs in a way that wanted to make him dig his teeth into your thighs and--
And look at you. With a shaky breath, he sits up and rakes his fingers through his hair. Looking never hurt anyone. That's what he tells himself, at least, as he shifts onto his knees and lets his eyes rake over the length of your body. You'd rolled onto your side since the last time he could bring himself to check - your knees pulled up and your head tucked downward. He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest for a moment, than another, before letting his attention fall lower - to where the waistband of your shorts had drifted below your hip, leaving a strip of supple flesh just a touch lower than what even the lowest-set of your jeans revealed. Both straps of your tank-top had managed to fall off of your shoulders sometime during the night, and careful not to touch you and cross a line he'd only half-heartedly set for himself, Gojo catches the flimsy fabric of your top between two fingers and tugs it downward, just enough to expose the swell of your chest and draw the material taut. Your nipples are already hard, he notes with just a little too much satisfaction. You wouldn't have been happy if you knew what he was doing, but your body might've been.
He feels his cock twitch, and he's palming it before he can stop himself. Touching himself wouldn't hurt you, either, and he wouldn't leave a mess, not if he could help it, not if he could summon that much self-restraint. Cursing under his breath, he shrugs his sweatpants down to his thighs and spits into his palm before wrapping his fist around his shaft. He's already stiff - had been from the second you started to undress, as hard as he'd tried not to acknowledge it. Biting down on his bottom lip, he pumps his hand over his cock to the tempo over your breathing, letting his mind wander to the space between your thighs. He couldn't, not without waking you up. He couldn't, but..
His attention drifts back to your lips, wet and ever so slightly parted. It wouldn't compare, but it'd have to do.
He positions himself carefully, his knees sinking into the mattress next to your head. Arousal beads at his tip, dripping down his shaft and filling the cramped room with a soft 'click, click, click' as he brings the head of his cock to your mouth, resting it gingerly on the crook of your lips. He does what little he can to swallow down his voice and smother the movement in his hips as your warm breath fans over his cock, as his fist tightens in a weak attempt to imitate how tight your throat would be, if he ever got the chance to fuck it properly.
He's thinking about how hot it would be inside of you, how adoringly your body would welcome him when his self-control snaps, when his hips buck forward and the head of his cock collides with the back of your throat. You gag sharply, your eyes snapping open and find his in an instant, expression a mix of shock and confusion and horror, pure and unadulterated. He wants to draw back. He wants to apologize. He wants to do the right thing.
Instead, he cums. His free hand falls to your head, and he holds you in place while he fucks shallowly into your mouth and rides through his orgasm. Your reaction is a pitiful thing - all choking and betrayal, but he can't seem to stop himself from grinning.
When he really thought about it, this was all your fault. You have no one to blame but yourself.
After all, Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing.
This time, you just didn't give him another choice.
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