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#there's a desperation there—he keeps going back trying to get his hands on whatever he can trying to get Rishi out of there
kingkaizen · 3 days
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𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples.
“I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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livelaughlovesubs · 3 days
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Incubus fyodor 1
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Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor
Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??
Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?
This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)
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Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~
The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.
Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.
The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.
Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.
“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?
Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??
Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.
“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.
“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.
“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.
The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.
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Part two
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ghouljams · 3 days
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A deal is struck between you and Soap. One round to get you out of his system and he'll leave you alone.
Cw: piv sex, mean dom Soap, fae magic, afab!reader, mild dubcon bordering on cnc at the end
Fae are often curious about you, but you have to admit Soap takes the cake. He follows you around like a dog on a short leash. It's maddening. You have no privacy and no recourse to send him on his way. After all the fae don't help without expecting something in return, and the police hardly seem bothered by the stalking. As always you have to take matters into your own hands.
You ask him what he wants, because you can't decipher the tangled web that seems to drift around him like a cloud and it takes him a moment. Fae get that question a lot you suppose, and they're so particular about language. It's why you're good at your job and get so few complaints, what you traded your eyes for.
"I want you," he says finally. You catch the spark of a want, lust that's sucked back into the mire of him. You can do that, though it's a little annoying.
"You just need to get me out of your system," you tell him, watching something crumble in his eyes. His brows draw together, his lips draw down, he does a good show of looking upset.
"I don't want you-"
"If I sleep with you, will that work?" You ask, no time for whatever nonsense he's going to try and weave. It perks him up, makes him nod like he can't do it quick enough. You hold up your hand to stop him, "you get one round, then you gotta leave me alone."
Soap mulls it over. You can see the way his lips purse, his tongue running over his teeth. He holds his hand out.
"Deal." He nearly drags you across the bar when you take his hand.
-
"You came, thats-" you sob out a moan, your eyes rolling as your back arches and your hips force themselves down onto Soap's cock, "-That's one."
"Oh no bonnie," Soap grins, grabbing your hips and pulling you down like a toy, fucking his thick cock up into you and hitting just the right spot each time, "the round's nae over until one of us taps oot."
You dig your nails into his shoulders, squeeze your eyes shut against the pleasure that he fucks into you. It feels electric, your stomach clenches, your pussy clenches, your body is desperate for more. The arch of your back forces you to lean closer to him, keeping the angle just right as you struggle against your traitorous body's desire for more. Soap takes the opportunity to lean up and drag his teeth over your nipple, catching the bud in his mouth and sucking hard. You gasp and feel your rhythm falter. Soap's hips still piston into you, but the gap in your hiccuped wailing makes him growl.
He pulls out, spins you around, forces your face down into the sheets and smacks his cock against your cunt. "No tappin' out hen," he tells you, sheathing himself inside you in a single hard thrust, "ya want this as much as I do." Your moan is high and tight. Your cunt aches, your insides battered and throbbing for more. Everything is tight, tight, tight. Your breath comes quick, gasps between moans, everything is wet and wonderfully painful, pleasureably painful. Too much and yet you still want more, more, more.
Soap smacks your ass, rubs his hand over the sting when you press into it. His hand slides to push your shoulders down, muttering for you to arch your back, but you can't, not when he makes you want to run with every perfect thrust. Soap's body blankets you, his thick thighs cage your own, his broad chest presses against your back, and he hooks his arm under your chin to pull your teeth from the blankets. You are well and truly pinned when his other hand sneaks between your legs to rub your clit in quick tight circles.
The come dripping out of you, forced from your cunt with each snap of Soap's hips, provides ample lubrication, and makes your cheeks burn. He flexes, chokes you between his bicep and forearm, toying with your clit while he fucks you. You may as well have handed him a manual on how to make you come. It should have happened by now, should have shuddered through you, but you rest just at the precipice of it, whining and whimpering when you aren't gasping and groaning. Soap kisses your temple, your eyes find his, that awful ice blue shining with something you can't put a name to. Pride, maybe.
"You don't come until I tell you to," he says it like a law, it feels like one. You whine, reach to push your hands weakly against his muscular, hairy, thighs, just for a second of reprieve.
"No-o," you whine, you're drooling, dripping from your cunt and your lips. Soap licks his tongue across your mouth, spreads your slick folds with his fingers and pinches your clit.
"Yes," he coos, "you want to don't ya?" You can feel the undercurrent of the question, the monkey's paw of dealing with the fae. But you do. You do. You're so tight and wet and wanting, you want to come, you want to fell apart for him, you want to be good and give him what he so desperately seems to need. And then you can wash your hands of him. One round to get it out of his system, that was the deal.
"Tell me you're mine," he murmurs, "tell me you're mine hen and you can come."
"Yours." Its out of you before you can even think the word, fucked out you, your body a cock-drunk traitor, "yours, yours." You sob it, scream it, tiny knots loosen inside your chest and the feeling floods you.
You stiffen, your voice and breath caught in your throat as something choked rips through you. Your muscles shake with it, you heart beating like a drum as pleasure crashes down into you. Soap fucks you through it, keeps you full of his cock while your cunt clenches and tries to suck him through another orgasm.
Soap groans, and you feel heat flood you a second time. Your eyes roll back, a shiver going up your spine as it burns against your aching cervix. He pulls back, his cock drags against your overworked, gummy, walls and it's bliss. The gentle stretch, the punctuated ripple of heat when he bumps against your g spot, it's a welcome reprieve. Until he thrusts back inside.
"Can't, no-" You don't think Soap heard you, too busy dragging his stubble against your neck, mouthing at your jaw. You're pushed over another cliff, your pussy squeezing so tight around Soap's cock you think you can feel ever vein on that beautiful thing. He groans, the sound low beside your ear and dangerously intoxicating.
"What did I say love?" He reminds you, "we go until you tap out."
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babygorewhore · 2 days
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I’m talking now.
You decide to push Rafe’s buttons. W. C less than 1k.
Warnings! Choking! Male masturbation! Spitting! Daddy kink! Brat taming! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx
My first blurb of Dolly and Morgy’s writing game! Please join us and tag us!
“Yeah, okay!” You roll your eyes and return to typing away on your phone as you drown out Rafe. You knew it was a dangerous game, being a brat to him like this but you truly wanted to make him break.
He had just got home after work, still in his suit and tie, he looked at you with a bewildered expression. “Are you okay?” You look up from your mobile.
“Yup! Super!” You bite at him and look down. Your heart starts racing as silence fills the air but then finally you hear his footsteps retreat. Damn, you’d have to push even harder especially considering he had been trying to work on his temper lately to be a better boyfriend.
Minutes went by and Rafe returned, wearing a t- shirt and gray sweatpants and he settled on the couch next to you but you still remained on your phone aimlessly scrolling. It was hard to ignore him but you contained the urge to peer up at him.
“So…how was your day, baby girl?” He asks and you sigh.
“Fine. You?” Your short reply made him bristle but he told you about his day but you turned away from him, nestling your body against the cushion.
“Okay. What the hell is going on? Did I do something?” Rafe demands and you scoff, folding your arms. Your back is still facing him on the couch. “No, Rafe. What would make you think that?” You felt your body turn, his hand on your shoulder and he moves you so you’re sitting up. Facing him.
“Listen. We don’t do this. We don’t ignore each other. If something happens, you tell me.” He raises his eyebrows to make sure you hear him but you sigh and look at your nails. “Hey. Look at me,” he cups your chin and tilts your head up. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” You salute and stand, nudging him off. “Yes, father! Anything you say! God, you’re so bossy! You think because you’re Mr. Rafe Cameron you can say and do whatever you want to whoever you want. And it’s annoying! Like I GET it, Rafe. I’m your girlfriend, not a dog you can bark at!”
Rafe looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “What in the fuck are you talking-“
But you plug your ears and interrupt. “Oh, god will you just stop being so dumb, Rafe? How many ways do I have to explain something to you?”
“STOP! STOP IT!” Rafe bellowed, causing your mouth to immediately close and your eyes to widen. Everything in your body froze as his face went red. “I’m talking now! And you do NOT speak to me like that.”
You had no idea what bravery or stupidity took over you but you gave him a slow and steady smile. “Or what?”
That was it. Rafe wrapped his hand around your throat, throwing you onto the couch and he mounted you. His fingers tightened as he leaned down, teeth gritted and his eyes burned. “You’re going to fucking regret this, sweetheart.” He promised as his other hand rips off your shorts, dragging off your panties along with it but instead of ripping them, he brings them to his mouth. “Not gonna cum in you. Only good girls get daddy’s cum in their desperate pussies.”
He licks the center of the lace, moaning at the taste coating his tongue as your hands try and bring him down but his strength overpowers you as he keeps you still. “Not so tough now, are you?” He mocks as you whimper around his grip as he moves to cover your mouth with his palm. Rafe licks another stripe up your underwear before he reaches down, shifting his sweatpants down and showing his hard on through his boxers. He wraps your panties around his hand, sticking them inside his underwear and takes his cock in his fist. He moves so your bare cunt is beneath.
“Daddy-“ You manage underneath his hand but he pushes down harder, stroking his dick faster and he moves your legs apart wider with his knee.
“Oh, no. You don’t get to beg now, pretty baby. You were a bad girl and bad girls get punished.” Rafe’s precum leaks and drips onto your pussy as you tremble watching him jerk himself off with your underwear, “such a fucking whore, huh? Needed my attention so bad you pissed me off?”
Rafe was close, jerking his hips into his hand as you whined underneath him and he let go of your mouth. Sliding his hand to your hair and he pulled your head back. “Open your fucking mouth, greedy little slut.” You do and he spits inside, “aw you do know how to listen.” He taps your cheek a few times before bursting into his palm and fingers.
He moans loudly and smashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss, a mash of teeth and tongue. Rafe slaps your cunt before shoving in his dripping cum inside your entrance before he yanks out his hand with your panties. Rafe shoves them back on your body, up your legs and you gasp at the wet sensation against your pussy.
“You’re gonna wear those as a reminder of what happens when you’re a brat.” Rafe pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of your cunt. “And this is gonna be my little porn when I’m gone. Do you understand?”
You nod with tears in your eyes. “Yes, daddy.”
Rafe smirks and climbs off. “Good. Maybe I’ll reward you later.”
Tagging some moots. @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @oceandriveab @rafescurtainbangz @slvt4jamesmarch @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @redhead1180
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hiraethwrote · 1 day
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no shot - satoru gojo (& suguru geto)
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✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (main), suguru geto x f!reader ✧ summary: captivated by a mystery girl at a party, satoru is adamant in pursuing you. turns out is not as easy as it seems, and it doesnt help that his friend is also interested, and might have the upper hand. ✧ cw: some cursing, alcohol consumption, intoxication, sexual tension, teasing, lowkey dual pov, just fun ngl ✧ word count: 4.5k
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“Who’s that?” Satoru asked, nudging his friend with his elbow, bringing his attention to the girl who was dancing on a table across the room.
“Hm? Oh, her. Shoko invited her,” Suguru answered, as Satoru couldn’t keep is eyes off this mystery girl.
“How come Shoko never told us she had friends like that?” He was in awe by this girl, as she was clearly the life of the party. Satoru took a quick glance at Suguru to see that he too was somewhat entranced by the girl, but tried his best not to make it too obvious.
“Think it’s just you. I’ve met her briefly before.” With that, Suguru captured Satoru’s full attention, a small, victorious smirk plastered on his face at the frustration he knew he was causing his friend.
“Unfair,” he whined. “How come Shoko introduced you?”
“Probably because I wouldn’t embarrass her,” Suguru snickered, which he quickly regretted. Just as he was about to take a swig from his drink, Satoru bumped into his elbow, causing him to spill down his shirt. “Asshole.”
“Ops,” Satoru said sweetly, Suguru staring daggers at him, desperately trying to wipe his shirt. As his chuckle trailed off, he turned his attention back to the girl.
She was still on top of the table, moving her body to the rhythm, a drink in her hand. There was something so captivating about her, and he wasn’t alone to think so. Around the table, she had an audience of admirers. Satoru found himself intrigued by how she was entirely in control, giving them just enough attention to keep them focused on her.
The next second, some random guy climbed up on the table and joined her, placing his hands on her hips. Turning around to face him, there was a mischievous grin on her lips. Slowly, she traced her fingers up his chest before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulled him down closer to whisper something in his ear. Whatever she said, it seemed to shatter his ego as his eager smile evaporated before he shamefully climbed down from the table.
“You know her name?” Satoru asked, leaning back against the wall.
“I might.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” A smile of disbelief on Satoru’s face.
“Why would I?” He could hear the smirk in Suguru’s voice. “You spilled my drink. Besides, you’re competition.”
Satoru instantly let out a taunting scoff. “That’s almost cute. We both know I’m the one going home with her.” It bothered him that Suguru seemed completely unfazed by his comment, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he took another swig of his drink.
“I feel tension,” Shoko cooed as she came stumbling over from the kitchen. “Are you guys bickering again?”
“It’s actually serious business,” Satoru said as he took a deep breath, straightening his posture. “Suguru actually thinks he stands a chance against me.” Shoko turns to look at Suguru in hopes of getting some context, only to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“And this is about?”
“A girl,” Suguru answered simply. Shoko’s eyebrows raised in surprise, looking between the two boys.
“I don’t see why it would matter. You two never go for the same girl.”
“That’s until your friend came into the picture,” Satoru continued to explain, turning his head towards the girl. She had now climbed down from the table, and he saw her down a shot before slamming the glass down on the table in front of her.
“My friend-“ Shoko trailed off in confusion and she followed his gaze to see who he was looking at. A loud cackle escaped her once she saw the girl they were all staring at. “Ain’t happening.”
“What did I say!” Satoru cheered, teasing Suguru who just rolled his eyes, pretending it wasn’t getting to him.
“No, no-“ she laughed. “I mean, neither of you stand a chance.” They both narrowed their eyebrows at her.
“That’s ridiculous, look at me.” A huge grin flashed over Satoru’s face, showing of his charm. Over Shoko’s shoulder, he saw Suguru keeping a close eye on the mystery girl, still trying to make it look casual.
“I’m surprised you’re into her, Suguru,” she said excitedly, turning towards the raven haired boy. A small, cheeky smile grew on his lips.
“Don’t encourage him!” Satoru interrupted. He looked like a child, nearly stomping his feet with frustration, most likely caused by the alcohol in his system.
She shakes her head, the excitement quickly disappearing as she brings her focus back to the conversation. “Besides the point. Just believe me when I say, neither of you are going to get with her.”
“Can you at least tell me her name?”
“Don’t tell him. It’s fun to watch him squirm,” Suguru interjected.
“You’re on your own, Satoru,” she said with a devilish grin. She hooked her arm with Suguru’s and pulled him after her towards the balcony, probably for a cigarette, leaving Satoru standing alone.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
It hadn’t taken Shoko a lot of convincing to get you to join her for the evening. You never shied away from a party, as it had a tendency to do wonders for your confidence. When drunk, you felt like you lost some of your inhabitants, just to the point where you were able to offer more of yourself than usual.
Not to mention, it wasn’t just the alcohol that got you drunk, but also the atmosphere. Tons of people just enjoying the music, talking to each other and letting the alcohol flow. As long as you didn’t take it too far, you had no reason to complain.
Now you found yourself on top of a table, dancing and singing along to the music blasting through the house. Around the table were some desperate fellas, trying to get your attention. Every once in a while you shot them a look and a smile, which kept them around to feed your ego a little longer.
It was just cheap enjoyment, as being perceived as attractive by sleazy men who’d sleep with anything that let them, wasn’t something to brag about. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t like having their eyes on you.
Your enjoyment was somewhat haltered when you felt a pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around. The man who met you was relatively handsome, you’d admit. His dark hair complimenting his sharp features. But as his eyes traveled your body, you saw a look in them that you didn’t appreciate.
Meeting his gaze again, you teased him with a smile and a quick glance at his lips. You trailed your fingers up his chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly, before grabbing his black t-shirt to pull him down. His ear was right by your lips, as you whispered “brave of you to come up here and join me, as if you have a chance.” When you pulled away, the lust in his look had evaporated and had been replaced by an expression of shear embarrassment.
He climbed down from the table, shrinking as he walked away with his pride wounded. And yet again, your confidence was boosted. Something about rejecting desperate guys, who might have stood a chance if they were just acting decent, filled you with some sorts of joy.
Pulling your attention back to the party, one of your other girl friends grabbed your hand and pulled you down from the table before shoving a full shot glass into your hand. She didn’t have to ask you twice, downing the shot in one go and slamming it down on the table, a loud cheer escaping the two of you as you did so.
Eagerly, you grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd to dance, planing to just spend the rest of the evening with your friends. However, that plan was quickly ruined when you crashed right into what seemed to be a firm chest and a pair of strong hands grabbed your arms to steady you. A small lump began to grow inside you when you saw you’re friend give a big-eyed stare at whoever was standing behind you, swallowing the lump she had in her own throat.
“I’ll leave you two,” she said with a drunk giggle and she was gone before you had the opportunity to keep her from leaving. With a sigh, you turned around, preparing yourself to meet whatever creep was trying to get with you next.
But when you turned around, you were met by a tall figure. Your eyes traveled up his body until you met his face. Whoever he was, he was devastatingly beautiful, wearing a flattering smile, his snow white hair styled simply to hang just slightly over his eyes. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him in the crowd during the evening. With his tall stature, he did kind of stick out in the crowd.
“Careful there,” he spoke, his voice playful with the facial expression to match it.
“Sorry,” you said loudly so he could hear you. “Didn’t see you.”
Smoothly he leaned forward towards your ear. “What’s your name?” He began to pull away so he could look at you, but you quickly grabbed his shoulder to keep him on your level so you wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. But in the corner of your eye, you saw a cheeky smirk creep on his face when your hand touched him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would actually,” he said before pulling away for real this time, his eyes staring directly into yours. It was so evident what his intentions were. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, thank you.” You’re smile was sweet as sugar, but it seemed he saw right through your act, licking his teeth at your response.
“I don’t doubt that.” Your eyes lingered on his face as he took a quick glance around the room. You were truly mesmerised by his beauty, but it seemed like his ego didn’t need your confirmation so you weren’t going to let him know. It seemed the universe was working against you, as someone bumped straight into you causing you to be pressed up against the stranger once again. You were suddenly thankful the lights were dimmed, so he wouldn’t be able to see how your cheeks were tinted light pink.
He suddenly grabbed your hand and started escorting you through the crowd, making the path easy for you. Eventually, you felt a sense of relief the moment you were reintroduced to some fresh air, making you realise how stuffed it was inside.
“Now, isn’t this better? Now we can actually talk.” He towered over you, skillfully playing into the impression he wanted to give of.
“Seeing you took me hostage out here,” you sighed as you jumped up on the porch banister.
“You’re feisty, aren’t you?” The smirk never left his face. You felt one make its way to the corner of your mouth as well, but it was one out of self satisfactory.
“You’d be surprised it really sieves out the worst of them.” It was true. From your experience, if you played too hard to get, to the point where the reward would never be worth the work, it seemed to keep the biggest sleazes away at least.
“I’m Gojo. Satoru Gojo.” He surprised you when he actually extended his hand for you to shake. You politely shook it, as the realisation of who he was dawned on you.
“Oh, you’re Shoko and Suguru’s friend.” He couldn’t help but get annoyed at your comment, as he imagined Suguru’s satisfied smile if he’d heard what you said.
He wasn’t going to let that get to him. “So you’ve heard of me,” confidence oozing from his voice.
“Your name might have come up at one point,” you shrugged simply. That was a lie. He’d been brought up in conversation on multiple occasions, but you were under no circumstances going to let him know that.
“Funny you say that, because Shoko has never mentioned you.” You couldn’t help roll your eyes at his lame attempt at teasing you.
“I think that might be more because of you rather than me.”
It surprised you to see how fragile his ego really was. Sure, he was beyond confident and he rarely let it waver. Nonetheless, his cocky front took a hit at every comment you threw at him, and he worked hard to keep up his appearance. It gave you a reason to believe that his ego was more an act than anything else. It was clear he was an extroverted individual who enjoyed the attention he received, but there was something deeper lurking just beneath the surface. And as much as you hated to admit it, that secret depth he was hiding made you want to crack through that exterior.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, glossing over your comment. He took one step closer to you, your eyes never breaking contact as he did.
“Y/n,” you spoke softly, letting your eyes flicker to his lips. He repeated your name back to you, smooth as silk, creating a reaction within you that you had no control over. It sounded so beautiful when he said it so passionately, like he already knew you. “Is this how you get the girls? All natural charm, pretending like you’re genuinely interested?”
He scoffed at you, the smirk still present. “Who says I’m pretending?” He continued to inch closer to you.
“What?” A somewhat patronising chuckle escaped you. “You telling me a guy like you puts in real efforts with strangers at parties?”
“A guy like me? Meaning what?”
“Cocky.” Your statement was only confirmed by his chuckle. It absolutely frustrated you that you actively had to fight against his charm that came so easy to him.
Whenever you attended parties, you never planned to go home with anyone. Quite the opposite, if you were honest. After a few one night stands here and there, you’d quickly become aware it wasn’t for you. The only part of that process you found entertaining was some sort of confirmation that you were desirable. The guys who usually tried to get with you had the same amount of charisma as a rock, so turning them away was a piece of cake.
But Gojo wasn’t like your run-of-the-mill guy hitting on you at a party. Where most guys gave up, he stood proud. His natural charm was slowly but surely chipping away at your cold front, and you hated it. You craved the control, but it seemed he might have the stronger hand.
“Well, I’d like to say I have something to cocky about.”
“Narcissism isn’t attractive.”
“So you say, but you’re still sitting here.” He got you there. In no way was he forcing himself on you or demanding anything from you. It was unspoken that you were allowed to leave at any point if you wanted to, but you couldn’t get yourself to jump down from the railing and leave him standing.
“Maybe I just enjoy the attention,” you simply shrugged.
“That I know.” You squinted your eyes at him, signalling for him to continue his statement. “When you were dancing, you loved having them look at you. You fed on it.”
All you did was smile, biting you bottom lip. You never flirted like this, and if your friends had seen you now, they would never let you hear the end of it. How you usually took pride in being unobtainable, but now you were suddenly folding for some random guy at a party. Not to mention, one of Shoko’s closest friends.
You’d been so hypnotised by him that you hadn’t noticed he had approached you to the point where he had gracefully positioned himself between your legs, his hands resting on each side of you. Your heart was pounding against your chest and he continued to lean in closer. Having him so close to you definitely made your mind run wild with ideas. The party-girl in you was so tempted to hook your arm around his neck to pull him closer and connect your lips, let him have his way with you. But you didn’t want him to win so easily.
Just as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and he winced in disappointment. You chuckled drunkenly as he straightened his posture, but remaining between your legs and now resting his hands on your thighs.
“You’re a tease.” He tried to act offended, but you had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed the chase as much as you did.
“I’m the tease? Do I have to remind you who is pursuing who here?” You felt his hands give you a soft squeeze, forcing you to focus on keeping your breath steady. His touch was so tender, like he ached for it, but careful not to hurt you.
“Still, you’re the one who begs for attention.” He tried to lean in closer again, ever the arrogant smile on his lips. Carefully, with just the lightest touch, you place your fingertips on his soft lips to stop him again.
“I never beg for it,” you said rather matter-of-factly. “It’s not my fault people give it so willingly.”
If it was even possible, he wanted you more now than he did earlier. At first, it was just your aura that had attracted him. Radiating assertiveness, something he’d always found intriguing. It wasn’t a secret he was spoiled in several arenas of his life, used to people just handing him stuff. So the second someone who didn’t fall at his feet came along, he knew he had to know more.
Then he’d gotten the opportunity to take a look at you up close, and that won him over completely. You were nothing less of stunning, he thought. Your eyes sparkled with a sense of adventure, and your smile was warm and kind. Not to mention the way you carried yourself, so sure of who you were.
“Have you ever been told you’re quite persistent?”
“Nah, not really. I never have to be.” You let out a snort that quickly turned into a small chuckle, your fingers now resting carefully on his chest. If you focused your attention to the touch, you swore you could feel his heart beating incredibly fast.
“You’re truly a character.” It might have sounded like an insult, but it wasn’t meant as one. Luckily, it didn’t seem he took offence.
His shoulders rose quickly in a small shrug. “I’m just used to getting what I want.”
“If what you want is a quick fuck, I’m a hundred percent sure there’s tons of girls inside willing to give it to you without all the hassle.” He just slowly shook his head ‘no’ as you spoke, his hand finding its way to your neck. Carefully, he placed his thumb under your jawline and slowly tilted your head backwards for better access.
Fucking hell, the things he was doing to you. Once again he was leaning in closer, ever so smug. But this time, you were doing nothing to stop him. Finally you were surrendering yourself to him, preparing to lose the battle that had gone unsaid.
You’d closed your eyes, your knees slightly clenching at his hips with anticipation. So ready for his lips to finally collide against yours, but you were startled when Gojo jerked away.
Opening your eyes, Gojo was no wearing an irritated face as a strong hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Is this man bothering you, miss?” A groan could be heard from Gojo at the presence of his best friend. Well— now former best friend.
Reluctantly Gojo took a respectable step back, but still staying close to you. Once he was no longer so dangerously close to you, you felt some tension leave your body with a deep breath you were unaware you had been holding.
“Suguru,” you beamed, jumping down from the railing and quickly embracing him in a genuine hug, before nonchalantly positioning yourself beside Gojo again. “It’s great to see you again.”
Your excitement didn’t go unchecked by Gojo, who was scowling at Suguru. The two boys shared a knowing look, and Satoru had a strong desire to wipe off that contempt smile Suguru was wearing. Both you and Suguru knew each other a lot better than you’d previously let on, which bothered him more than it should have. He had no idea to what degree you knew each other, if it was simply a friendly coffee or if you’d slept together. Either way, Suguru was having the time of his life torturing his friend.
“Same to you. You look as beautiful as always.”
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
“You two seem to be getting along nicely.” You turned your head to look at Gojo, who had turned a lot more tense than he was mere moments ago.
Your competitive side was more than pleased by Suguru’s arrival, saving you from the agonising future of waking up besides Gojo the next morning and admitting defeat. But it would be a complete and utter fabrication to say you weren’t disappointed.
“Pfft, ‘getting along’ might be taking it too far.” You had managed to regain some of the feisty personality, as Gojo had put it. You didn’t have to look at him to know he had turned his attention to you again, his stare drilling into you.
“You’re quite the liar,” Gojo chuckled, tossing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer. His movements were a lot more sharp and drastic, unlike before Suguru joined you. It dawned upon you, as you saw them look at each other, saying a whole lot without speaking a word.
You’re evening had somehow circled back to where it started, by having your confidence boosted. They were fighting over you, the looks between them saying everything. Maybe you should just be thankful Suguru joined after all. You had to press your lips together in a thin line to choke back the laughter bubbling up.
You rolled your eyes at Gojo’s comment, but in reality you were finding the whole interaction quite enjoyable. “Maybe just enough to bring him along to coffee next time,” you said, knowingly fuelling the fire. Gojo’s body tensed up even more against you. Suguru shifted his focus from his friend to you, making eye contact.
The intensity of his look told you he hadn’t come over just to piss off his friend, but also because he himself genuinely wanted to pursue you as well. You had to break the eye contact as your cheeks began to heat, taking a deep breath through your nose. Unlike Gojo, Suguru was calm and laidback. It made him attractive in a completely different way than Gojo, the kind of attractive that snuck up on you.
Gojo’s confidence was built on a fundament of knowing what people thought of him, aware that people found him attractive. Whereas Suguru’s was rooted in the fact that he didn’t care what people thought of him. And if he had been into you the period you’d known each other and respectfully not made a move, just made him more appealing to you.
“Coffee, huh?” The look Gojo gave his friend only seemed to amuse him more. “Briefly, my ass,” he whispered under his breath. only you being able to hear it.
How had you ended up here? You’d had a perfect plan of your evening. Dance, drink, flirt innocently, and generally have a good time. Then these two guys had come along and turned the evening upside down. They’d proven themselves to not be like the guys that usually pursued you, which had you losing you’re wit. You’d never imagined that happening at a house party like this.
“Just a suggestion,” you shrugged. As you did, Gojo’s arm left your shoulders and traveled down to the small of your back, leaving a trail of fire as he did. Suguru let his stoic attitude slip for a split second, his eyes flickering to Gojo’s arm as he moved it.
"We were kind of in the middle of something here." Finally Satoru had been pushed to the point where he wanted to shoo Suguru away, hoping his sudden appearance hadn't spoiled his chances entirely. He still felt as there was a chance, as he felt your body react to his genle touch against his back.
"Sorry about that. I just felt it would have been rude of me not to at least say hi to her while she was here." He's good, Satoru thought to himself. Suguru had such a comfortable charm and he was milking it to his advantage. He seemed so genuinely apologetic for interrupting. Satoru didn't buy it for a second.
"I'm so glad you did!" You jumped in, trying to distract yourself from Gojo's hand that was slowly rubbing circles on your back.
"What the hell is going on here?" A shrieking voice interrupted you, making all three of you flinch before finding the source of the voice. Shoko came stomping over towards you, making Gojo quickly retreat his hand. "You guys are unbelievable!"
"Shoko! Where have you been?" The tone in Gojo's voice was entirely different, and was now playful and childish. One couldn't imagine the scene that had taken place just minutes earlier listening to him now.
"Drop the act, Satoru!" Her anger did seem real, so you were just glad it wasn't directed at you. "Give her some room to breathe!" Forcefully she grabbed your arm and pulled you to stand beside her.
"Shoko-" Suguru tried to intervene.
"Shush, you're supposed to be the behaved one!" You were the only one having a good time, finding Shoko's protectiveness cute. The two guys, on the other hand, had both lost their confidence. She turns to look at you. "The girls were gathering for pictures when we couldn't do it without you."
You smiled sweetly at her before turning to the guys again. "Nice meeting you, Gojo." Your eyes gave him a flirtatious look, teasing him that he might have gotten lucky if you hadn't been interrupted. You turned to Suguru and gave him the same look. "And I'll see you around." You turned away from them, before you and Shoko entered the house again.
"Do not tell me that Satoru actually managed to make you fold?" She said through gritted teeth.
"No..." you said carefully, her head turning to fully look at you. "He might have been able to if Suguru hadn't interrupted."
"You're dissapointing me, y/n," she sighed dramatically. "So much for being unobtainable."
"I didn't do anything! My reputation is still intact!" You were desperately trying to defend yourself. "Don't tell any of the girls please!" She squinted at you, a smirk growing on her lips.
"Do a shot with me, and your secret's safe!"
"Deal!"
Back on the porch, Satoru and Suguru had been left in the dust, neither able to get lucky. "I swear to god, Suguru-" Satoru sighed.
Suguru simply shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. He tried to fight back a satisfied smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it wouldn't be a problem I came over. You seemed so sure she was going home with you." Satoru instantly flicked Suguru's forehead in petty frustration.
"Idiot."
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n: okay, i really struggled to find a way to end this, and it shows lol. I hate the ending, but for the most part i like it. but i wanted to try something different. even before this account, when ive written in my sparetime, its usually angst so wanted to challenge myself by something different. hope you like it <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated
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redjayson · 3 days
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oh boy, now that chapter 17 is posted I can talk about some of the extras that I want to write in full at some point! since that’s rather far off in the future (and probably a lot of work when second-hand alibis still has its own Incredible Amount of Work left), have some quick and dirty snippets/ideas of what they might look like.
first one is a "su xiyan lives" spin-off:
exactly what it says on the tin. shen yuan makes a deal with the system (which would have to be somewhat less strict in this scenario) or he gets his hands on a macguffin or something and manages to make it to the luo river in time to help su xiyan through luo binghe’s birth and save her life afterwards
that, then, leaves them both desperately injured with a (somewhat unhappy) baby in the middle of winter when huan hua is undoubtably searching for them and their only allies probably think shen yuan and su xiyan betrayed them
shen yuan has the bright idea to lead them down the river to the washerwoman who was luo binghe’s adopted mother in proud immortal demon way. she’s kind enough to take them in, softened immensely by the baby and by how injured and grief-stricken shen yuan and su xiyan are
shen yuan and su xiyan slap up every (subtle) barrier and disguise and warding talisman that they can possibly think of to help hide them from any huan hua searchers, before collapsing from the expenditure of energy. shen yuan possibly uses his altered-but-no-longer-untested body-stasis talisman on su xiyan, who is predictably Not Amused by the recklessness of shen yuan having used this on himself, but it gives them more time to handle the poison while also allowing su xiyan’s qi to replenish itself and hold off the effects of the poison trying to kill her while they find an actual cure for it (assuming shen yuan's macguffin/system deal wasn't enough)
they both heal. they help around the house as much as possible, and gift the washerwoman with as much money as she’ll take from them, which is far less than she deserves for all the kindness she’s showing them. eventually, they’re healed enough to begin moving again, and they judge that it’s likely too dangerous to stay this close to huan hua any longer. 
before they go, though, there’s the matter of tianlang-jun. they debate for days—is it too dangerous to try and check on him? do they think zhuzhi-lang was sealed as well? what happens if they’re captured by huan hua? what will happen to binghe? (yes, luo binghe ended up with the same name as canon. shen yuan only suggested the “binghe” portion of the name, but su xiyan came up with and ran with the “luo” portion of it, because it’s far too conspicuous for a child to be running around with her surname, isn’t it? shen yuan, twin brother of shen qingqiu, keeps his mouth shut.)
in the end, they decide that they’ll take their chances now, while there’s still enough chaos and confusion from the end of the battle + setting up how the guard on tianlang-jun is going to look long-term for them to get close. better yet, if they can find zhuzhi-lang, then they won’t even have to get all the way to bailu mountain. 
whatever happens, it ends up being a bit of a mess. zhuzhi-lang is not happy, but shen yuan has spent years being one of his favorite people, and both he and su xiyan are still moving pretty gingerly when they manage to find him. in the end, zhuzhi-lang believes what they tell him about the betrayals committed against them, too, and agrees to carry the news to tianlang-jun (and plead their case, should he prove unwilling to listen).
after that…su xiyan and shen yuan beat feet out of huan hua territory, taking binghe (and possibly the washerwoman!) with them to live a life as rogue cultivators. cue years of sneaking back into bailu forest to visit zhuzhi-lang and tianlang-jun and try to figure out the best way to help tianlang-jun escape. shen yuan helps zhuzhi-lang get ahold of some sun and moon dew mushrooms, but warns that unless they experiment wildly and are also exceedingly lucky, the mushroom body will fail pretty quickly with a demon inhabitant instead of a human one. 
I imagine that this au would either end up as a su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan throuple, or zhuzhi-lang might finally shoot his shot with shen yuan and actually get somewhere with it. I lean toward su xiyan/tianlang-jun/shen yuan, just because there’s only so many times you can pretend to be married with a child, spending literal years working toward a common goal and in close proximity and with shared fondness, before you fall into an actual relationship. tianlang-jun is on board with this when it’s explained to him—shen yuan is great! (the wife-beam strikes again, it just took a little bit longer with tianlang-jun because he was so focussed on su xiyan)
also it’s deeply funny to imagine shen yuan reuniting with shen jiu (+ yue qingyuan) and cang qiong mountain sect and boldly gesturing toward binghe and declaring, “this is my son.” yeah, this carbon copy of su xiyan, with eyes that are notably not hers or shen yuan’s? suuure. the other peak lords aren’t going to argue, though, because shen qingqiu looks way too willing to fight them (read: yell at them) about it, and that’s almost never worth it. plus, like, what do they care? 
shen qingqiu, notably, doesn’t believe that luo binghe is shen yuan’s biological son, but apparently he is shen yuan’s adopted son (son by marriage?), so it’s really all the same thing. he’s doing some math about the tianlang-jun situation (as is yue qingyuan) and not liking the answers that he’s come up with, but if shen yuan wants to keep the child, then let him. better to allow a half-demon on his mountain than to lose his brother again. 
shang qinghua is losing his shit in the background. you did what with my protagonist’s parents?! my cabbages plot!!!
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pin-k-ink · 1 day
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the sequel // suna rintarou
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tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, so much angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, yearning, happy ending
wc ⇢ 5k
a/n: i never cried so much while writing something
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Suna felt like he was watching a movie. A sad, tragic fucking movie that he couldn't tear his eyes away from no matter how much it hurt to keep looking.
Frame by frame, moment by excruciating moment, he watched you - his best friend, the love of his life - fall in and out of love with someone else. Again.
If his life really was a movie...what role would he play? The sidekick? The comic relief? No, he decided with a bitter twist of his lips. He wasn't even important enough for that. He was just an extra. A background character that no one noticed or cared about.
Someone who faded into the scenery while the bright, beautiful protagonist - that was you, always you - took center stage and shone.
Suna had known you his entire life. His earliest memories all featured you, front and center, with him orbiting around you like a satellite, like a moth drawn to a flame.
You'd taken your first wobbling steps together, hands clasped and eyes wide with wonder. Babbled your first words to each other in a language only you two could understand. Gotten into mischief and skinned your knees and learned about the world side by side.
For as long as he could remember, you'd been his constant, his touchstone. His north star. The axis his whole world turned on. Life without you was unfathomable. Unthinkable.
But somehow, as the years scrolled by like frames on a reel...Suna started to feel like he was watching from a distance. Like there was an invisible wall between you, thin as glass but strong as steel, that he could never quite break through.
No matter how close you were, how many secrets you traded and inside jokes you laughed over and half-spoken conversations you could hold with just a glance...you always felt just a little bit out of reach. Like a mirage that would dissolve into mist if he tried to touch. Something too good to be true, too precious for the likes of him to grasp.
And how could he even think of reaching out, of trying to hold onto you the way he desperately wanted to? How could a mere background character ever hope to stand alongside the radiant lead, the brightest spot in every scene?
No, Suna was content to stay in the shadows. To watch and support and be there in whatever way you needed him, even as it killed him by inches. As long as he could keep you in his life, as long as he got to stay by your side...that would be enough. It had to be.
But god, it was getting harder. Harder to paste on a carefree smile and listen to you gush about your latest boyfriend. Harder to swallow the jealousy and longing clogging his throat when he watched you with stars in your eyes, so incandescently happy in someone else's arms.
Harder to bite his tongue against the confessions that always wanted to spill out, to choke back the pleas and promises and declarations his treacherous heart whispered in the dark.
"I love you," he wanted to say, every minute of every day. "I've always loved you. You're my forever, my reason, my home. Pick me. Choose me. See me. I swear I'll spend my life making you happy, if you'll just let me try."
But he never said it. Never took that leap of faith, too terrified of shattering the fragile status quo. Too scared of losing you entirely.
So he stayed quiet, stayed still, even as he felt like he was cracking apart inside. He watched you fall in love again and again, watched each bright-eyed boy promise you forever. Watched your smile dim and your shoulders droop when they inevitably let you down, broke your big, beating heart so carelessly.
It was a particular kind of agony, holding you while you cried over someone else. Seeing the light go out of your eyes, powerless to do anything but wipe away your tears and murmur empty platitudes. Every hitched sob was a barb in his skin, every sniffle a dagger to his ribs.
He wanted to shake you sometimes, wanted to scream "Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Why can't you see how much I love you? How I would never, ever hurt you the way they do?"
But he never did. Just folded you close and stroked your hair and let you dampen his shirt with your grief. Let you give him tiny glimpses of the mosaic of cracks in your chest before you pasted on a wobbly smile and soldiered on, determined not to let the world see you bleed.
Those cracks scared him. Scared him in a bone-deep way few things ever had. Because he lived in dread of the day they splintered apart entirely. The day your seemingly endless capacity for love and joy and trust finally ran dry, bled out by a thousand careless cuts.
He couldn't bear the thought of your light going out forever. Of those glorious eyes going flat and dull, that incandescent smile withering on the vine. You were the sun and he was just a planet in your orbit - he genuinely didn't know if he could survive without your warmth. Without you, everything would wither.
So he would endure. He would be your rock, your safe harbor, your shelter from every storm. Even if it killed him, even if he shattered to pieces in the process, he would hold you together.
Because a world without your laughter, without your brilliant, untamable spirit...that was no world at all. And maybe his love could be enough to keep you shining. Maybe if he believed hard enough, if he poured enough of his own flickering light into you...you would be okay.
And just maybe, someday...you would turn that supernova smile on him. Maybe you would finally, finally see him. Not as a background character, not as a sidekick...but as a man who loved you with every fiber of his being.
As someone who had been there all along, just waiting for you to look a little closer. To see the shape of his devotion, the staggering depth of his feelings written in every line of his face, his heart in his eyes and your name carved into his bones.
But until that impossible day, he would watch. He would wait. He would bide his time until the credits rolled and the movie ended...and just pray that there would be a sequel. One where he finally got to step out of the background and into the spotlight of your eyes.
Where you were his co-star, his partner, his love. Where you wrote a new story together, one frame at a time, and the only tears were happy ones.
It was a beautiful dream, fragile and gossamer and so painfully far out of reach. But it was all he had, so he clung to it in the hidden depths of his heart and kept watching the scenes play out.
Kept hoping that someday, if he was patient enough, if he loved you hard enough...the dream would become reality.
And you would finally, finally be his.
As the years scrolled by, Suna watched you grow and change, always from a step behind. He watched you navigate the perilous waters of adolescence, cheering you on as you blossomed into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Watched you stumble and pick yourself back up, watched you learn and evolve and become more yourself with every passing day.
He was there for all of it, every milestone and heartbreak, every triumph and disappointment. When you got your first period and cried from embarrassment, he was the one who biked to the store for pads and chocolate, the one who held you and reassured you that it was all normal and okay.
When you got your heart broken for the first time at sixteen, he was the one who showed up at your window with ice cream and terrible movies, the one who let you sob into his chest and rail against the unfairness of it all.
When you got accepted into your dream college, he was the first person you called, screaming with joy down the line. He'd shut his eyes against the sting of tears, against the yawning ache in his chest at the thought of you leaving him behind...and told you how proud he was, how happy he was for you.
Always, always, he was your person. Your touchstone, your safe place. The one who knew you inside and out, backward and forward and every way in between. He was there in all the big moments...and all the little ones in between that made up a life.
Like the lazy summer afternoons spent lounging in the park, shoulders brushing as you read your respective books, content to just exist in the same space. The midnight walks under a canopy of stars, hands casually entwined, no words needed in the warm, honeyed dark.
The cups of coffee he'd bring you on drowsy mornings, made just the way you liked. The way you'd curl into his side during scary movies, face hidden trustingly in the curve of his neck, his arm a protective shield around you.
All those insignificant, in-between moments...they were everything to Suna. He hoarded them like a miser, turned them over and over in his mind like precious gems on nights when the ache in his chest got too big to breathe around.
Each one was a flicker of light, a tiny ember of hope that maybe, someday...you would see. You would understand just how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you. You would realize that he was right there, that he had been there all along, just waiting for you to really look at him.
But you never did. Your eyes always seemed to skim right over him, to look through him like he was made of glass, transparent and inconsequential. He was furniture to you, he sometimes thought despairingly. Part of the scenery of your life, always there but never really seen.
Never the one you wanted, the one you yearned for. He was the one you settled for, the one you came back to when the newest bright-eyed boy let you down. The one you cried on, the one you leaned on...but never the one you loved. At least, not the way he wanted you to.
God, how he wished you would love him. It was a physical ache, a bone-deep longing that never went away no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He felt hollowed out with it, scraped raw and empty.
Late at night, he let himself imagine it. Let himself paint a picture of a world where you wanted him back, where you looked at him with even a fraction of the desperate, clawing need he felt for you.
In his weakest moments, he let himself believe it could be real. That someday, you would wake up and realize that he was everything you'd ever wanted, that he could make you happy in a way no one else ever could.
That you would take his face in your hands, eyes wide and wondering like you were seeing him for the first time. That you would breathe his name like a prayer, like a revelation, and kiss him with a tenderness that set his soul alight.
That you would tell him you loved him, that you were sorry for taking so long to understand, but you wanted to make up for lost time. That you wanted to be his, wholly and completely, for the rest of your lives.
It was a beautiful dream, fragile and perfect as a soap bubble. But like a bubble, it always burst, leaving him blinking away stinging tears and feeling like a fool.
Because this wasn't a movie, no matter how much it felt like one sometimes. There was no guarantee of a happy ending, no artful resolution scripted in the stars.
In the real world, the guy pining in the background didn't always get the girl. Sometimes he just stayed in the background forever, watching her life happen without him, until the credits rolled and the lights came up on his lonely little corner of the world.
But oh, how he wanted to believe. He would never be the leading man, he knew that. He was too quiet, too steady, too content to let you shine while he basked in your reflected glow. You needed someone as brilliant and dazzling as you, someone who could match you spark for spark and set the world on fire.
Someone braver than him. Someone who would risk it all for a chance at your heart, instead of staying safe and silent on the sidelines.
He wasn't that guy. He never would be. But a tiny, desperate part of him still held out hope that maybe, someday...he could be enough for you, just as he was. That even if he wasn't the star of the show, he could still be an integral part of your story.
The one who was always there to catch you when you stumbled, to hold you up when you couldn't stand on your own. The one who knew your secrets and your scars, your hopes and your fears. The one who loved every messy, imperfect, beautiful inch of you, unconditionally and irrevocably.
Maybe he could be your co-star, your partner in crime and love and life. Maybe you could write a new story together, one where the quiet, steadfast best friend got his chance to step into the light and be seen, really seen, by the only eyes that had ever mattered.
It was a slim hope, gossamer-thin and liable to tear at the slightest touch. But it was all Suna had, so he held it close and carried it with him, a tiny flicker of light in the dark.
And he kept watching, kept waiting. Kept loving you with everything he had, even as it wore him down to the bone. He would play his role in your movie, would be whatever you needed him to be...until the day came when he could finally step out from the background and into your arms.
Until the day when "I love you" wasn't just a secret whispered in the dark, but a vow made in the light of your smile, your hands in his and your heart beating against his chest.
Until the day when the movie of his life finally got its happy ending...and you were right there beside him, radiant and real, as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled on a love story for the ages.
He just had to hold on until then. Just had to keep believing, keep loving, keep watching.
Because in the end, he knew it would all be worth it. You would always be worth it.
Even if it took a lifetime, even if it killed him...he would wait for you.
Always.
As the years went by and you both grew older, Suna watched you evolve and change in a thousand tiny ways. He watched you graduate college, watched you land your dream job and move into your first adult apartment. Watched you navigate the ups and downs of adult life with the same resilient grace he'd always admired, always loved.
Through it all, he was there. Your constant, your touchstone. The one you called when you got a promotion, voice bubbling with excitement. The one you leaned on when your grandma died, eyes swollen and voice thick with grief.
He was the one who helped you move, lugging boxes up endless flights of stairs and quietly assembling IKEA furniture while you flitted around like a hummingbird, arranging and rearranging. The one who showed up at your door with soup and medicine when you got the flu, who sat with you and watched terrible reality TV until you fell asleep on his shoulder.
He was woven into every part of your life, as essential and invisible as air. Always there, always just a phone call or a text away. Your best friend, your rock, your safe harbor in every storm.
But still, even as you grew closer than ever...there was a distance there. A wall that Suna could never quite breach, no matter how hard he tried. Because no matter how much of your life you shared with him, no matter how many secrets you whispered into the dark...there was always a part of you that held back.
A part that you kept locked away, hidden behind bright smiles and breezy deflections. The part that held your heart, your deepest hopes and dreams and fears. The part that Suna longed to know, to understand...but that you never quite let him see.
It hurt, that distance. It ate at him like acid, slow and corrosive. Because he wanted all of you, every messy, complicated, beautiful part. He wanted to crack you open and crawl inside, to burrow into the hidden depths of your soul and make a home there.
He wanted to be the one you turned to with your whole heart, the one you trusted with your most vulnerable self. He wanted to be your person in every sense of the word, not just the one you leaned on but the one you loved, the one you chose.
But you never did. No matter how much he longed for it, no matter how many nights he spent staring at the ceiling and wishing...you never saw him as anything more than a friend. A best friend, sure, but still just...a friend.
And god, it was getting harder to bear. Harder to swallow back the words that always wanted to spill out, the confessions and pleas and promises. Harder to bite his tongue and smile when you gushed about your latest boyfriend, to offer a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably let you down.
He felt like he was drowning, sometimes. Like he was being slowly crushed under the weight of all the unspoken things, all the pent-up love and longing and desperation. He felt like he was fading away, bit by bit, worn thin by the constant effort of holding himself together, of keeping his heart locked away behind a friendly smile and an easy laugh.
He wasn't sure how much longer he could do it. Wasn't sure how much more he could take before he shattered completely, before he just...broke.
But what choice did he have? He couldn't lose you. Couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it, even if being near you was slowly killing him. You were oxygen to him, necessary and vital. Cutting you out would be like cutting out his own heart.
So he endured. He swallowed the hurt and the jealousy and the desperate, clawing need, and he was there. Always, always there, waiting in the wings. Waiting for you to see him, to really see him.
Waiting for his chance to step out of the background and into the light of your love.
It was getting harder to hold onto hope, some days. Harder to believe that there would ever be a right time, a perfect moment. That he would ever find the courage to lay his heart at your feet and beg you to take it, to cherish it the way he'd always cherished you.
But he had to believe. It was all he had, this fragile flicker of faith. The tiniest spark of possibility, glowing in the dark.
So he fanned it carefully, tended it like the precious thing it was. He held it close on the nights when the loneliness got too much to bear, when the ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. Whispered it to himself like a mantra, a prayer:
Someday. Someday. Someday.
Someday, you would see. Someday, you would understand. Someday, he would be brave enough, strong enough, to reach out and grasp the future he wanted so desperately.
Someday, your movie would reach its climax. The music would swell, the camera would pan in...and he would finally, finally step into his destiny. Into the starring role he'd always been meant to play, the one he'd been rehearsing for his whole life.
He would take your hands in his, look into your eyes...and he would say it. The words that had been living in his throat for years, the ones that beat against his ribs like caged birds, desperate for freedom.
"I love you," he would say, simple and honest and achingly true. "I've always loved you. And I know I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for, I know I'm not exciting or flashy or whatever, but...I'm here. I've always been here. And I always will be, if you'll let me. Because you're it for me. You're everything."
And maybe, just maybe...you would hear him. Really hear him, the way you never had before. Maybe you would look at him with new eyes, with dawning realization and wonder and joy.
Maybe you would see all the love he'd been holding back, see the shape of his devotion in every line of his face. Maybe you would understand that he was your person, your forever...just like you were his.
"Oh," you would breathe, soft and reverent. "Oh, Suna. I...I never knew. I never saw..."
"I know," he would whisper, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."
And then...then you would kiss him. Soft and sweet and filled with promise, filled with all the love he'd always dreamed of. You would wind your arms around his neck and press close, and he would hold you like he'd always longed to, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.
Because you were. God, you were. And finally, finally...you were his.
His best friend. His soulmate. His happy ending, the one he'd always been chasing.
The credits would roll, the music would fade out...and a new story would begin.
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The evening had started like countless others - just you and Suna, a few too many drinks, and a forgotten movie playing in the background as you laughed and joked and reminisced. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy intimacy born from a lifetime of friendship.
But as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Suna found himself growing quiet, a melancholy settling over him like a fog. He watched you through increasingly blurry eyes, taking in the way the soft light played over your features, the way your laughter seemed to fill the room, bright and effervescent.
God, you were so beautiful. So vibrant, so full of life and joy and everything good in the world. And he loved you so much it hurt, a physical ache in his chest that never went away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
"You know what's really pathetic?" he found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could bite them back.
You turned to him, head cocked, a curious smile playing about your lips. "What's that?"
Suna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice. He knew he should step back, laugh it off, change the subject. But the alcohol had loosened his tongue, lowered his inhibitions, and suddenly...suddenly he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Me," he said, voice rough and scratchy with emotion. "I'm pathetic. Because I've been in love with you for so fucking long, and I've never had the balls to tell you."
Your eyes went wide, lips parting in shock, but Suna barreled on, the words pouring out of him like water from a burst dam.
"I've loved you since we were kids," he said, staring down at his hands, vision blurring with unshed tears. "Since the day you punched that kid for making fun of my haircut in third grade. Since the summer we were twelve and you broke your arm falling out of that tree, and you held my hand the whole way to the hospital even though you were the one in pain."
A smile flickered across his face, small and fond and aching. "I loved you when we were sixteen and you got your heart broken for the first time, and you cried on my shoulder for hours. I loved you when you accidentally burnt toast because you were singing in the kitchen. I loved you when we graduated high school, and you looked so beautiful in your cap and gown that it took my breath away."
He risked a glance up at you, finding you staring at him with a stricken expression, tears tracking silently down your cheeks. "I loved you through every boyfriend, every breakup, every lame movie night and inside joke and 2 AM phone call. I loved you on your best days and your worst days and every day in between."
Suna's voice broke then, a sob catching in his throat. "I love you now," he whispered, raw and ragged. "I love you so much it's like a physical thing, like a part of me. Like I can't breathe right when you're not around, can't think straight when you're near. You're in my veins, in my bones, in every beat of my fucking heart, and I...I can't keep pretending anymore."
The tears were flowing freely now, hot and fast down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "I know I'm not...I know I'm not what you want," he choked out, chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "I know I'm just your best friend, just the guy you call when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with. But god, I want to be more. I want to be everything to you, the way you are to me."
He reached out with shaking hands, cupping your face, thumbs swiping at the tears painting your cheeks. "I love you," he breathed, pouring every ounce of longing, every shred of desperate devotion into the words. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's like...it's like I don't know how to be anything else. And I just...I needed you to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if you don't feel the same...I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't keep lying to you, to myself."
Suna closed his eyes then, unable to bear the sight of your face, the pity or gentle rejection he knew must be written there. He felt flayed open, raw and exposed, heart lying shattered at your feet.
But then...then he felt your hands on his, warm and steady. Felt you lean in, forehead pressing against his own, the salt of your tears mingling with his.
"Suna, you idiot," you whispered, and he flinched, bracing for the blow. But your voice was soft, achingly tender, suffused with a warmth that made his eyes fly open in shock. "How could you not know? How could you not see that I...that I love you too? That I've always loved you, from the minute we met?"
He stared at you, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. But you were smiling through your tears, eyes shining with a light he'd never seen before. "You're not just my best friend," you said, hands sliding into his hair, cradling him like he was something precious. "You're my soulmate, my other half. The one person who knows me better than anyone, who's always been there, always loved me, even at my worst."
You pressed your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his trembling mouth. "I love you, Suna Rintarou," you murmured against his skin, each word a benediction. "I'm in love with you. And if you want me...I'm yours. Forever."
A broken sob tore from Suna's throat, disbelief and joy and overwhelming relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was messy and desperate and perfect, pouring every ounce of love, every year of longing into the press of his mouth on yours.
You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in his shirt, holding him close like you never wanted to let go. And god, he never wanted you to. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in you, in the love he'd craved for so long, the love he'd never dared to hope could be his.
When you finally broke apart, breathing hard, Suna couldn't stop touching you - hands skimming over your face, your hair, your shoulders, like he needed to convince himself this was real. That you were real, that this was happening.
"I love you," he rasped, resting his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so much."
You smiled, radiant and blinding, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always have, always will."
And as Suna gathered you into his arms, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed you in...he felt something slot into place in his chest. A piece he hadn't even known was missing, a hole he'd carried for so long, suddenly filled by your love, your presence, your promise of forever.
From those early days when you first stumbled into each other's orbits, he'd watched your lives play out together like adjacent movies running on parallel screens. Two stories inching closer with each passing year, edging tantalizingly near but never quite converging into one. He was the yearning protagonist, you the luminous star burning bright just out of reach.
But now, in this transcendent moment, the projectors had merged. The credits were rolling on that old, achingly familiar film that had been his constant lonesome companion. And when the lights came up, when the screen flickered to brilliant new life...it was a sequel. Your sequel together at last, 3D and eye-searing in its vividness.
No longer was he resigned to loving you from afar, playing the supporting role in your story. Now you were his co-star, his perfectly matched lead - twin suns burning brilliantly side-by-side in their own cosmic romance.
This was just the beginning. Your beginning, the sequel he'd waited his entire existence to see... and it was more extraordinary than anything he could have ever imagined.
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theinfinitedivides · 1 year
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Rishi bestest boi 🥺😔
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fmhobeus · 1 month
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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*
a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!
nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.
nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.
nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.
nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?
nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.
nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (
nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.
choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.
nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?
nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.
nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.
"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."
uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.
"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.
nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.
nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.
nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.
nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.
nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)
nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.
"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."
oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.
you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.
"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.
fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.
he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.
nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)
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ickadori · 5 months
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i think yuji has a thing for spoiled, bratty girls. the ones with borderline bad attitudes, who roll their eyes more than they smile, and scowl and huff when things don’t go their way.
sure, it can be annoying sometimes, but you’re never like that for long, not with him at least. you try, but all he has to do is wrap those steel arms around you and gush about how pretty you are, how he loves you so much, how much he missed seeing you and then you’re like putty in his hands.
you’re sweet, bashful, doting, clingy, glued to his side and rubbing yourself against him like some baby kitten. it’s cute, you’re cute, and he’s head over heels for you.
but like all things, that doesn’t last long either. your moods are fickle, changing at the drop of a hat, and your little outbursts can be explosive, sometimes offensive. yuji usually lets you get your frustrations out, lets you rant and rave while he sits and listens, and then when you’re all tuckered out he’s dragging you into his embrace and whispering comforting words into your skin followed by sweet kisses.
sukuna always tells him how soft he is when he does that - she’ll never respect you if you keep letting her off like that, he says. put her in her fucking place, he hisses. back in my era, the only time a woman opened her mouth around me was to suck my cock, he reminisces.
but yuji isn’t like sukuna, he doesn’t need to do those things to get you back how he likes you most, sweet and soft and eager for his love..but sometimes you really try his patience, so he figured he could do something, nothing close to the cruel things sukuna had suggested, but something to let you know that you couldn’t just do and say whatever you wanted all the time.
he figured he’d take something away from you, like you’d do with a misbehaving child, something that you loved and couldn’t get enough of, no matter how much he gave it to you.
his cock, obviously.
“yuji!” he’s had you like this for a while, your stomach flush against his bedroom wall as he forces you to stand while he squats behind you. you’re dressed in a little skirt and an equally as little top, no panties in sight. the skirt is hiked up around your hips, and he swallows past the lump in his throat as he thrusts the pink dildo into your drooling cunt once again, his ears twitching at the lewd squelch that sounds.
your thighs tremble, knees buckling, and he lets his free hand come down against your ass, his lips soothing the sting after when you let out a whimper. “m’sorry,” he mumbles against your skin, “but you have to stand up straight for me, baby.”
“mm-nn,” you shake your head, and yuji tsks, wrist pulling back to slide the dildo out until only the top remains, and then he’s quickly slamming back in, lips still peppering kisses along the curve of your ass. “ah! i want you, yuji. i wanna feel you..”
“you don’t get my cock until you start being nice to me.” he builds up a steady pace, his breathing ragged as he listens to the squelching coming from your cunt. needing to see it and not just hear it, he pulls his head back, marveling at the way your pussy grips onto the silicone, your slick coating the shaft along with his fingers. “such a pretty pussy for such a mean girl.”
“s-shut up!” he sees you clench, feels the resistance when he goes to push the silicone cock back into you, and he practically salivates as he watches a fresh wave of slick ooze down the shaft.
“see? so mean to me… i shouldn’t play with your pussy at all.” he slips the dildo out of you, jaw going slack as he watches your hole clench around nothing, your desperate protests and pleas falling on death ears. there’s a string of your arousal dripping down between your trembling thighs, and yuji swipes it up with his finger before pushing it into his mouth, lashes fluttering as he groans around the digit.
“please, yuji, m’sorry! i-i’ll be nice, i promise!” you plead and cry, and yuji knows you’re only thinking with your pussy right now, that overwhelming urge to come clouding your mind. you’ll be fussing at him by the end of the night if he gives in, he’s sure of it, but he’s not a mean man. how’s he supposed to tell you no when you beg for him like that? when your pussy weeps for him like this?
he can’t.
it only takes a second for him to free his own cock from his pants, replacing the dildo with the real thing, and he moans loud and guttural when he slips inside, your hot cunt wrapping around him like a vice. “fuck, baby.” his pelvis grinds into the fat of your ass, his hands pinning yours against the wall above your head as he thrusts in and out of you. “you feel so good.”
“yuji,” you keen, and he knows you and your body well enough to know that you’re milliseconds away from coming.
“you gonna come?” he breathes in your ear, low and raspy, and you weakly nod, his name leaving your lips like a chant, and the muscles in his thighs and calves flex as he bends at the knee to fuck you at a slightly different angle, tip of his cock pushing into that spot that always leaves you a babbling, sniffling mess. “go ahead and come, baby. make a mess.”
that’s all the encouragement you need before you’re creaming around his cock, pussy clenching and fluttering around him as declarations of love tumble free from your lips, and he wonders how long it’ll take for you to change your tune this time.
9K notes · View notes
sukunasteeth · 30 days
Text
When Sukuna kisses you, it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest.
You started out perched on his lap, but by now he's reduced you to a boneless, panting heap in his grasp. His arms supporting you are the only things keeping you from melting against him like liquid lust. You're desperate for a moment of solid ground to catch your breath, but Sukuna is adamant on continuously taking it away from you. His calloused hands inching their way up your shirt, brushing softly against your sides, over your rib cage, skimming the underside of your breasts, all in mesmerization at how soft your skin is.
"'Kuna..." You try to capture his attention, which has been taken by his fixation on how sensitive your ears were to the scrape of his teeth.
You're surprised when he answers with a distracted hum, "Yes, my little doe?"
"I -I need a second." You stutter, your heart is thumping wildly in your chest, despite how intoxicated and incapacitated you feel at his mercy. You were starting to forget how to breathe in his close proximity and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your head straight with his natural scent acting like a pheromone.
You feel his wicked grin against your neck before you hear it in his voice, "Poor thing. Am I working you too hard? I rarely see you so out of sorts..." 
Sukuna doesn't even try to disguise his amusement at your complete inebriation with his kisses. His tongue presses against the nape of your throat before he follows a line of sweat up to your ear, leaving behind a cold stripe of his saliva against your burning hot skin. He holds you fast when you violently shiver against him, "It's a good look on you."
“Please…” You beg with whatever breath you can conjure for him but it comes out as more of a desperate little whimper. That was Sukuna’s favorite tone of your voice, after all. 
And desperate you were. Sukuna had been devouring you for so long, sucking and nipping and licking at whatever part of your revealed skin interested him. You could feel your legs forgetting how to operate.
You just needed a moment. 
Without his permission, you push away from his chest and manage to get to your feet in front of him. Your legs buckle, but you're able to catch yourself before you fall face first back into him. Sukuna is looking up at you, as kiss drunk as you felt, blinking slowly with a satisfied smile. 
“Give me just one sec-” You’re about to turn away. And then you see it. 
Sukuna had you so entranced with him, had your mind so far away from your body, that you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you had cleanly soaked through your panties on his lap. And there, on that oh-so-comfortable part of his thigh, that had quickly become one of your happy places, was a dark spot on his jeans from your wetness. 
All you could do was stare down at it, mortified. 
Which only has Sukuna following your gaze in momentary curiosity. 
“I-I’M…” You try to catch his attention again with the sound of your voice before his eyes can settle on the new mark, but Sukuna sees it first.
His grin quickly fades and your heart careens into your throat. You feel embarrassment shoot through you like a shot of adrenaline, coloring your already pink face a bright and rosy red. 
The clear solution to the undoubtedly awkward situation is to run, right?
“I’ll be right back-” But you don’t even move an inch before his hand snaps forward and latches onto the front pocket of your (his) hoodie, stopping you in place. 
Your heartbeat thumps in your red-hot ears and you go against every fiber of your being to meet his eyes.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going with my dinner?" The playful lilt of his tone has completely vanished and reveals a deep, dark starvation in its place.
"I work hard for my meals, you know?” 
3K notes · View notes
bucketsofmonsters · 5 months
Text
A Diplomatic Error
cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
male orc x fem reader
Word count: 9k
You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say. 
Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him. 
The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town. 
So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing. 
It didn’t. It just felt lonely. 
As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth. 
When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.
You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape. 
You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright. 
Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.
You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step. 
It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now. 
His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.
“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter. 
He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.
“As you wish.”
Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere. 
You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on. 
You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder. 
Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face. 
You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand. 
In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here. 
Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest. 
As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.
As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue. 
And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.  
You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”
You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.
You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went. 
You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you. 
The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you. 
He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch. 
“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud. 
You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road. 
“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”
“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.   
Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”
“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”
He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”
You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”
You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily. 
You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center. 
He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty. 
When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something. 
He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when. 
Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face. 
As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken. 
Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier. 
But anger was good. At least anger felt productive. 
You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was. 
The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled. 
“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice. 
You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you. 
His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again. 
“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”
You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape. 
The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible. 
And then you were on the move. 
You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you. 
Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.
After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence. 
“You’re slow.”
“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts. 
“And who is to blame for that?”
You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”
“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt. 
“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”
He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out. 
It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did. 
Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. 
You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down. 
It seemed you were wrong. 
Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp. 
Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots. 
You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm. 
You did not listen. 
Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so. 
As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you. 
He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”
“What?”
“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”
“It’s a river.”
He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”
“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”
He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”
You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way. 
You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses. 
You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this. 
You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed. 
At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance. 
You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”
“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”
He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”
“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”
He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts. 
“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively. 
Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”
And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water. 
The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean. 
You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water. 
You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.
When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left. 
You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind? 
No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you. 
You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones. 
As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found. 
In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt. 
Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know. 
You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now. 
They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly. 
As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here. 
But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down. 
As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape. 
You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off. 
You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors. 
As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting. 
You were faster this way. That was what counted. 
You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.
“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”
A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest. 
Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now. 
You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again. 
Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet. 
It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke. 
“Do you have a name?”
“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers. 
“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.
He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return. 
His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying. 
When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance. 
The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off. 
Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you. 
He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”
“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”
He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”
“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”
“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”
So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat. 
He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”
Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far. 
He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn. 
You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.
If you were saved.  
You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls. 
Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke. 
As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”
You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first. 
“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”
You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now. 
“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears. 
You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you. 
The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”
“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”
The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”
“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.
“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”
“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”
With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent. 
After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat. 
That was it. There was no one coming. 
He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings. 
“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked. 
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”
“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”
“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?
Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”
Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”
“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”
You shrugged. “You could kill me.”
“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”
He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more. 
It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt. 
But even if you’d shut down, the world had not. 
And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent. 
He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore. 
You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them? 
As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?
You wanted answers. 
You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath. 
You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”
He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”
You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.
You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again. 
“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”
“I will not fight for you,” you spat.
“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”
He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor. 
You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.  
You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar. 
“What was that?”
“An attacker. A foolish little man.”
You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’
“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”
You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”
“Because I told them.”
You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”
“Your people didn’t seem to care.”
“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”
You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them. 
You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running. 
It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go. 
Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace. 
You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way. 
You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity. 
Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”
“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”
“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.
You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”
“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”
Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given. 
“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked. 
“It is not just. I will not kill you.”
“So what now?”
“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.  
“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”
“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”
Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”
“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”
You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”
“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”
“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”
He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”
“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”
“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”
“You know that’d not what I mean.”
“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”
You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”
He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”
You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”
It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave. 
This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run. 
As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent. 
You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did. 
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before. 
You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to. 
As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway. 
You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent. 
He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”
You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”
He froze, his shoulders tensing.
You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”
“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head. 
“How could you know?”
He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”
Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”
You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far. 
“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”
He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent. 
“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”
Oh. 
The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes
You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.” 
He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”
“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”
Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.” 
“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”
His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”
He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”
You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way. 
“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him. 
“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”
“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.
“About my intention to court you.” 
You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice. 
“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”
You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”
He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.
“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor. 
Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast. 
And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether. 
It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed. 
He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining. 
He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.
But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.
He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”
You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”
He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”
He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”
That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”
You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship. 
While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you. 
As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth. 
He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds. 
His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him. 
His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you. 
Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto. 
His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did. 
As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts. 
You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent. 
You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face. 
You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming. 
You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 
“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”
He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”
He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.
It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal. 
No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust. 
And then, as it went further and further, it became too much, 
You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm. 
He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you. 
You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you. 
You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did. 
He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”
You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily. 
So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared. 
“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him. 
He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.
His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone. 
As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight. 
He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come. 
His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him. 
He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest. 
You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you. 
He didn’t seem to care at all.
“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears. 
“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”
You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend. 
But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it. 
“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.
He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”
You snorted. 
“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him. 
“You reject that fool's advances.”
You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”
“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”
That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”
He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”
You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”
“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”
You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?” 
You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.
He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.
Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”
“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”
He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”
You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”
“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”
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sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months
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♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader. ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷
Expect a lot of objectification.
Manhandling, too.
And wolf whistling.
It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.
More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.
Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.
You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.
Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.
Dumbification Central.
“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."
They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.
He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.
They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’
They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.
The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.
They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).
Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.
More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.
“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”
Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.
Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.
He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.
He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.
He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.
“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”
Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).
He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.
“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”
He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.
“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”
Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.
And you’re no exception.
Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.
Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.
As do they all.
They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.
There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6’10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.
“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”
He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.
Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.
“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”
You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.
Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.
You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.
You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.
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jinkicake · 11 months
Text
Spring Is In The Air~
Something happens to them when the seasons change. 
Itto, Tighnari, Yae Miko, Zhongli x Reader
A/N: I wrote this like two months ago and never posted it... I’ve always wanted to try writing something like this so here is my pathetic attempt! It’s corny BUT, smutty!!! :-)
WC - 2,224
NSFWWWW // SMUTTYYY
~~~
ITTO
Itto is not subtle. Try as he might, the poor oni cannot learn the art of subtlety. His reactions always give him away to you within seconds. 
His struggle can currently be seen in the way he braces himself against the counter but still attempts to stand up straight to play it off. 
“Hey,” He sounds breathless, almost as if it is hard for him to breathe. You know he’s going to break any moment now, you can see it as his chest begins to rapidly rise and fall. His breathing quickens and all you can do is stare at his expanding chest. “I need you.”
Itto breaks every spring and putting him back together is your favorite part.
“Fuck me, fuck me!” Itto groans loudly and the sounds, one after another, fly off of the walls. He’s absolutely losing himself as you bounce on his lap, up and down while your thighs pound against his own. The pace is fast, quick, and your knees are not able to handle it alone. It’s entirely him, Itto uses the strength in his muscular arms to toss you around on his lap. His tongue hangs out of his mouth, eyes squeezed together shut all while both of your hands are wrapped around his throat. “Yes, yes, yes,” It’s almost pathetic, the way he is singing your praise and grinds down onto the mattress. He can’t get enough of the feeling, of it all. 
Itto is loud in everything that he does and he never shies away from expressing his desires. 
“I’m gonna cum so fucking hard,” He sounds entirely desperate, almost as if he is about to break into tears. You squeeze your thighs together and watch his every reaction as you clamp around him. His reaction is almost imminent. Itto’s hands on your waist squeeze you tightly as his bare nails dig into your skin as he cums with a drawn-out groan. The oni chases his high without stopping, still wildly thrusting up into you just as before. His pace then grows slower, impossibly slow as he slams into you a handful of times. There’s something final about this but, you know better. 
This is just the beginning. It takes hours to satisfy Itto, especially during the spring. 
You don’t even have the chance to catch your breath before you feel him twitching inside of you again, now hard as ever. His fast recovery is almost as quick as his reflexes. Itto pulls you off of him within a flash before mounting you from behind. 
“I’m sorry, just one more, one more, okay?” You can hear how his voice shakes in your ear but, you don’t have the chance to reply as he effortlessly slides back into you. In this position, you can hear everything, every puff of air that escapes his lips and every whimper that falls. Itto cries into your ear, tongue lapping at the surface as he moves his hips at a quick pace. “You’re fucking me so good,” 
You can almost feel him in your fucking stomach as you clamp around him but, his brutal strides feel so good. Each thrust against your bottom sends you flying and you end up face-first in the duvet. Itto keeps you still with a firm hand on your hip but, you can imagine how broken his expression must be as he groans above you. 
“One more time, one more time,”
((It’s never just one time with him.))
TIGHNARI
“(Y/N), please,” 
Hearing the forest ranger beg is something you are not used to. Tighnari never begs or yearns for your touch and attention. If he wants something, he takes it with little hesitation. 
Except when the seasons begin to change. 
When the air grows colder, something primal shifts in Tighnari. You can see it in the way his eyes soften into pools of need and how he becomes much more sensitive to the slightest touch. If you even think about touching his fingers, over his gloves, he will drop whatever is in his hands. 
Tighnari becomes reactive all over. 
“It’s happening again.” He murmurs into your ear as he presses up against your side. His tail wraps around your thigh, squeezing over and over again as he ruts into your leg. “I need you.” When Tighnari gets like this, you know it’s best to just let him take. 
“You poor thing,” Your voice is full of sympathy, perhaps a bit condescending, and it makes the forest ranger whimper. His ears flatten against the top of his head as his eyes squeeze shut in concentration. Your quiet sighs and hums only make him more delirious, Tighnari burrows his face into the crook of your neck and simply inhales. His breathing gets heavier as his messy thrusts become erratic. If he had not been holding onto you so tightly, you’re sure you would have fallen to the floor by now. 
He cums with a gasp, one that sucks the air from his lungs, and he tries to hide it by biting on your shoulder. Tighnari grits his teeth against your skin as little whimpers leave his lips, his tail rapidly thumping against your leg. His weight becomes too much and you both sink to the floor under his passion. 
That first orgasm meant nothing to him, it’s merely a warm-up. 
Tighnari can’t even bring himself to guide you to your shared bedroom, he takes you on the floor. 
He can’t help the way that he spreads your thighs and licks, running his tongue along your slit. The poor man devours it all, spitting and lapping up at whatever he can reach. His harsh sucks make you shiver and squirm but, you can’t move under the tight grip he has on your waist. 
“Ah,” Whatever Tighnari planned to say is muffled by your cunt as he shoves his tongue inside of you. He thrusts the muscle as far as he can go, ears flattened in concentration while his nose grinds against your clit. It’s as if he has become utterly consumed by you, everything about you because all he can focus on is getting his tongue in you as deep as possible. 
But then, he suddenly pulls himself off of you as if it hurts to touch you.
In the blink of an eye, Tighnari is above you, staring down while his legs get situated between your own. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but, I need it,” His breathing has become erratic, eyes almost feral as he begins to heavily salivate. With his primal urges brought to the surface, you know you won’t be able to leave this position and similar ones for a few days. “I have to- I have to fuck you.” 
YAE MIKO
With the amount of time you’ve spent beside Yae Miko, you know her exceptionally well. 
You know when something begins to shift within her, almost as if it is in the air. It’s seen in the way the other shrine maidens keep their distance and in the way Miko’s fingers dance along your skin as she grabs you at any possible opportunity. She makes sure that she’s touching your bare skin, her pink nails nearly breaking it as she stands behind you. 
“I require your assistance, pet,” Her breathy voice always confirms it for you and is the tell-tale sign of when her primal urges begin to show. She drags you by your wrist to a lone room, one decorated exceptionally well with everything you could need to last for weeks. Your lover’s touch grows lighter.
“You know what I need from you.” Yae Miko stares down at you as if she is truly looking down on you, her eyes hold little interest but you know better. You can see how her finger is nearly starting to tremble and how her lips have begun to part. “Come here,” She doesn’t even have to lift a finger for you to stand in front of her, within her grasp. 
Her lips are on you without another second to spare. Immediately, it’s all tongue. She parts your lips with tight squeezes of your sides before her hands move to paw at your breasts. While letting her tongue run over your own, shoving the muscle as far down your throat as she can, she towers above you. Her moans are low and entirely full of pleasure. 
You have a belief that her urges bring out something in you, something similar because you can’t help but want to be used by her every season. 
With heavy hands, Miko pushes you to the ground forcefully on your back. She slowly lowers to her knees, watching you carefully as you pathetically stare up at her. Your lips are still part and slightly swollen because of her previous ministrations. It makes her heart stop as desire stirs in the pit of her stomach. 
She spreads your legs with her slim hands and hooks one of your thighs over her own. Your underwear is discarded in seconds by her nails and her shorts are magically on another side of the room. 
Yae Miko’s lips turn slightly upwards, almost in a mischievous grin as she presses your leg to your chest and sits on top of you. She’s hot, the touch of her skin nearly makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. An immediate roll of her hips makes you moan loudly, the feeling of her sopping cunt against your own renders you speechless. 
“How funny,” She coos but, struggles to hide back her own shakey exhales. Desire takes the forefront of her brain and all she can think about is satisfying the demanding urge in the pit of her stomach. Over and over, she presses her clit against your own and rubs at the sensitive area while roughly thrusting her hips. This is only the beginning, you’re too aware of it. 
With the way Miko is squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipple, you can’t help but anticipate the rest of her plans with you. 
ZHONGLI
After spending lifetimes with Zhongli, you still end up winded when the seasons change. 
Your husband is a dutiful man and always gives you a fair warning, a notice before something ever happens with his body. However, sometimes a warning is not nearly enough. 
It’s been days since his insides have turned into a molten heat and Zhongli has not been shy about tackling this issue with you. You’re always so good to him, let him do whatever he desires just to satisfy the annoying urges. 
Day after day, he can’t help but grow stronger about his affections. He’s a selfish man and he desperately needs more. 
“Oh, you’re-” The words can’t even leave his lips as his head tilts back, a loud moan leaves his lips. Zhongli grits his teeth painfully, grinding them down as his hand tightens in your hair. He’s not being careful and neither are you. You continue to choke on him, around him, as your spit coats his entire cock. The cool sensation makes your husband’s thighs twitch as he grunts at the feeling spreading between his legs. 
You feel incredibly lucky that his primal form has yet to take over, perhaps it won’t even show this time around. It would be nearly impossible to satisfy him with another appendage hanging between his thighs. But, the thought still makes you moan wantingly. 
“My love-” Zhongli finds it hard to speak, his balls painfully tight and it only gets worse when he sees your hand hidden between your thighs. He focuses on your fingers moving against your clit and his eyes nearly turn into slits as he focuses on the image. The realization that this brings you as much pleasure as it does him causes a guttural groan to leave his chest. “Come here,”
His voice changes, it becomes much deeper, much more commanding. Zhongli doesn’t wait for you, he roughly pulls you up to your feet before pulling you into his lap. The way he manhandles you, forcing you to sit back on his face makes your entire being light up with need. 
“Morax!” You screech as your hands press into his abdomen, his tongue doesn’t waste a second now that you’re on him. The archon presses his tongue into your cunt, thrusting in and out before running the muscle over your clit. The stimulation makes it hard to focus but, you still reach for his heavy cock. 
You grip him tightly and lick at his slit, tongue digging into the area as you hum at the taste. Zhongli’s grip on your thighs becomes stronger and he fights back with his sharp nails digging into your skin. Had you been any more focused, you would have thought he had grown claws.
Your cunt pulses around his tongue and all Zhongli can do is continue to shove the muscle inside of you. He doesn’t shy away from rubbing against your walls, no, he has his own agenda. It’s almost sick how he coaxes you to gush around him, all so he can swallow it greedily to satisfy some gut-clenching demand. 
But, he can’t help it, he also can’t help how his skin begins to turn and scales spread across his arms. He can’t help but connect with his primal side when you satisfy the very deepest desires that he has. 
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werecreature-addicted · 9 months
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🥲 a werewolf mercilessly fucking someone while apologizing for being too rough, but not being able to stop. :( pussydrunk werewolves my beloveds…
pussy drunk werewolf. what will he do
Before he even gets you naked your werewolf can smell your yummy pussy from a mile away, he knows when you're wet almost before you do. Poor baby is left licking at your belt begging you to please let him eat you out he promises he'll do a good job :(
It’s only a second after you give your consent that your clothes are shredded with their massive claws. You might be allowed to keep your shirt on if he's feeling generous he only really wants access to your sweet cunt anyways.
His big claws dig into your thighs pushing your legs apart and giving him access to what he's after. It feels like he's trying to fuck you with his tongue the way he digs it into you, his nose bumping and rubbing against your clit in his desperate attempt to get his tongue deeper into your cunt.
100% the kinda man to eat pussy for his pleasure, not yours. He doesn't even notice when you cum the first time... or the second. he's just so obsessed with the way you taste, the way you squeeze around his fat tongue.
If he's smart- he'll shove a pillow between his legs to hump. but if he lets his instincts win he'll just pathetically buck his hips into the air while he eats you up.
Really the only way to get him to come up for air is to beg him to knot you. Tell him that you need to feel his cock where his mouth is.
"Are you sure you can take it? you were so tight around my tongue and my cock is much bigger..."
He's suddenly sadistic, he'd be happy to eat you out for hours, if you want more than that he's going to need convincing. He won't use his big fingers on you, you have to stretch yourself out for him. Prove how much you want his dick, beg for him to fuck you deep in the parts you can't reach with your pathetic human hands.
Whatever prep work you manage won't be enough. It hurts as he pushes into you, but the sting makes your mouth water. He wasn't planning on giving you time to adjust but you're literally so tight around his cock he can't move. It takes a surprising amount of strength to pull back from the vice-like grip of your cunt. Don't worry sweet thing he'll fuck you loose.
"s-slow down. I can't! it's too much!" you whimpered. But he can't stop now- the way your cunt spasms around him sucks him in, it's like his hips have a mind of their own as he fucks you. His clawed hands fall to your hips pinning you against the bed with his weight. He's so much bigger, so much stronger than you what choice do you have but to take it?
"Sorry, I know- I know it's a lot but-fuck baby you feel so good. I can't stop I'll just cum real quick then we can be done- I'll just knot this tight pussy then I'll feel good-"
His string of apologies soon becomes incoherent babbling and snarling. You feel so good around him that he can't help but give in to his instincts. And his instincts are telling him to pound you until you go colorblind.
He leans down and licks your face, drinking your tears of overstimulation before he buries his face in the crook of your neck and bites down on your shoulder- through the shirt he let you keep on back when he just wanted to eat your pussy.
"sorr- sorry- fuck I'm sorry baby-" he cries out in warning as his thrusts pick up speed and he forces his knot inside your already full cunt as his seed pours into you.
Even as his cock goes soft and his knot goes down he doesn't pull out, he keeps his hips flush against yours as he holds you close. your pussy just feels too good to leave. so warm and perfect for him.
He'll give you a little time to catch your breath- maybe he'll even let you fall asleep but if you do just know you'll wake up with his tongue deep in you once again.
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joelsmochi · 3 months
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every man gets his wish - joel miller
rating: E 18+ pairing: neighbor!joel x f!pornstar!reader summary: joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;) warnings: not proofread, no physical descriptions other than reader having an unidentified tattoo on her thigh and nice peach, unspecified age gap (ur choice pookie), [m] masturbation, objectively joel is a bit of a perv, some awkward dialogue, literal porn. literally, degradation (they get a lil rough), f + m oral, smacking/spanking, daddy kink (slight ddlg vibes too), pet names and plenty of dirty talk YUM wc: 3.2k a/n: happy valentine's day smut sluts :D!
He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, but he’d recognize that tattoo anywhere; his gaze followed the tattoo on the back of your thigh as you rode your cute little excuse for a toy.
Your soft moans and breaths echoing through the speakers on his laptop made his legs tremble against the old desk chair in his room while he fucked his fist.
He didn’t even think twice about the video he clicked on. He just knew he was horny and in need of quick release, so he typed his favorite keywords into Pornhub’s search engine and clicked the sixth video that only showed your ass. He realized he never noticed how juicy it was, and the oil or lotion or lube or whatever you fucking used to make it so goddamn shiny only emphasized how perfect it was.
Staring at the screen, he grasped the armrest in one hand and cock in the other, watching your puffy pussy cream all over the dildo. He matched the strokes of his hand with the rhythm of you bouncing. Slowing down, speeding up, only fucking the tip or grinding—he reenacted every movement of yours as best he could.
Even waiting until you were shaking and shouting the words, “I’m cumming—fuck yes! Just like that baby,” before cumming with you.
He watched the last few minutes of the video, watching you slap the dildo on your creamy cunt and play with it a little more along with standing up off of your bed and jiggling your ass in your hands. You giggled softly watching yourself. Then, much to his surprise, you sat down in front of the camera and smiled.
He wasn’t expecting you to reveal your face, so when the video ended he looked out of his bedroom window into yours. You were lying on the bed reading a book in the very spot where you recorded that filthy video.
You weren’t trying to tease him, he knew that, but it certainly felt that way.
Joel had successfully managed to evade you for a week feigning work has been keeping him too tired for company. He found himself a touch jealous that the world had seen you naked before him despite your relationship being completely platonic.
You owed him nothing, not even an explanation, but he still felt weirdly possessive over you. He had a slight crush on you when you first moved in, but you were so much younger than he was, and in his eyes you'd want nothing to do with such an old man like himself. Not to mention the 'crush' was mostly just a lingering desperation to fuck you.
The discovery led him to do a deep dive into your profile on the website. There he discovered what seemed like a plethora of your content along with your affinity for degradation whether it was to yourself or towards others.
However he felt like he could finally breathe when he saw it was all solo content. You didn't even seem to entertain the idea of fucking someone else and uploading it. He even felt a sliver of hope that he could be your first real fuck on camera, but if he already struggled with confronting his own feelings towards you then how could he ever open up the opportunity to doing a video with you?
Joel was finally over avoiding you. He was ready to admit his discovery to you and go from there. He just prayed you wouldn't freak out.
"Hi, Joel!" You greeted after opening your front door. "What's been goin' on cowboy, I've been a little lonely on this side of town."
He followed your actions and sat on your sofa; as instant as a heartbeat you noticed he was off. Nervous? Worry? Anger? You struggled to read him.
"Somethin' the matter?"
He pulled himself out of his daze and looked at you, mouth hanging open like he couldn't manage the words. They just sort of... Spilled out.
"I found your porn on PornHub the other day and I don't care that you sell porn. I really don't. You're a grown woman and it's your body and you can do whatever you want. I just felt wrong not tellin' you."
Poor Joel.
You wanted to laugh at him, tell him there was no guilt in finding it or even watching it (because let's face it, you know he did).
"Okay," you said.
"Okay..."
"...Did you like it?" You asked after feeling a little uneasy with the silence.
"Hell yeah," he responded without hesitation making you giggle.
"Really?" You tittered, "I feel like it gets old."
This was his golden opportunity. At the very least he could pass what he was about to say off as a joke.
"I could always help with that," he chuckled.
You were clearly taken aback by his statement but still smiling. "I'm don't like sharing my money, Joel," you scoffed.
"So don't pay me," he said just as he leaned in a little closer. "Just fuck me."
You couldn't fight the blush that rose to your cheeks and he cockily took notice of it.
"Are you fucking with me?" You bashfully asked.
This made him lean in closer, close enough for you to smell him, close enough to feel his breath cascading over your collarbones, close enough to know that the dark look in his eyes wasn't mischief. It was desire.
His hands cupped your jaw so that he could bring your nose to his. You felt beautifully trapped between his hands, gaze, and aura. Suddenly you were filled with the desire to let him take you in any way he wanted to imagine.
"You know what my favorite video is?" He whispered, breath hitting your lips. "You were on your side, getting ready to cum, and you kept saying I belong to you until you were screaming. Damn near crying. Your little fucktoy was soaked. You had cum everywhere. But the best part was when you did start to cum. You couldn't even look away from yourself, you looked too damn good and you fucking knew it."
"I'd look even better with you inside of me," you told him.
He sharply inhaled before placing his needy lips onto yours, pressing his face in as much as he could.
You moaned into his open mouth, reaching for his tongue with your own. His hands roamed down your body until they reached your hips; showing off his strength, he lifted you into his lap and stood up not wanting to waste another second.
He tried to be careful on the stairs but his eagarity caused him to misstep and almost drop you; he left no room for embarrassment and quickly returned to running up with you giggling at the mishap.
Joel placed you on the bed standing with his jean-covered erection eye level with you. "Where's your camera?"
"Really wanna record it, hmm?" You said softly, running your hand along his hard length and motioning your head to the dresser behind him.
He grabbed it, muttering, "Wanna show everyone you're mine now," whilst turning the camera on.
You cocked an eyebrow up as if to say oh really. "Is that so? I'm all yours now?"
Smiling, he pointed the now recording camera at you. He cupped your chin and dragged a finger over the bright smile you wore. "You're all mine now, darlin'."
You giggled coyly then kissed his clad erection slowly with eyes that remained on the lens.
"Quit teasin'," he demanded with a playful lilt.
You hummed and fake pouted, pulling your face away to toggle his jeans. "There are nicer ways to ask," you teased.
"I'm not askin'."
"Oh? My apologies, daddy."
Your hand began pumping his thick cock when you said that, making his cock jerk hard within your tight grip.
"Daddy, huh?" He entertained; you seductively nodded. "S'pretty right here..."
"Where I belong," you hummed.
Then, you lined your tongue up with the base of his cock, just barely teasing his balls, and licked a stripe up his girthy shaft before twirling your tongue around his red hot tip. You carefully watched as his face contorted, ensuring it was with pleasure and looking for any sensitive spots he may have.
He seemed to favor your tongue on his cockhead so that's what you prioritized for a minute. You tongue kissed it as if it were his mouth. Licking and sucking and pulling it into your mouth feverishly.
His cock tasted manly and the length was just as impressive as him. You finally pulled more of him into your mouth allowing him the privilege of feeling your gummy cheeks swell and close around his dick.
A strained groan left his throat and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.
Joel was enamoured to say the least. Your wide eyes locked with his letting him know you loved sucking his cock as much as he did. Spit hung from your chin prompting him to reangle the camera to get the side view of everything.
He placed a hand on the back of your head and gently fucked your throat. You moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in for more pain, more suffocation.
Your throat gagged over and over again, imitating the feeling of your swallowing his dick. You loved how he shamelessly moaned, filling your ears with the sexy sounds of his calloused whimpers and content praises.
"Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock like that," he groaned. "You like the taste, don't you? Such a good little slut." He smacked your jaw as encouragement to keep doing whatever magic you were fucking performing.
Once your throat began to get sore you pulled your mouth off of him, still opting to use your hands as he laid you down and rested on top of you, giving you the sloppiest kiss you'd ever received and assisting you with undressing.
He tasted his cock on your lips and chin and slurped up whatever precum and spit you had leftover. It felt nasty and passionate, with subtle moans spilling from both of you, and Joel couldn't get enough of it.
"Sit on my face," he breathed.
"Sit on your face?"
"Mmhm."
You set the camera up on the dresser looking at the screen to ensure it would capture everything before complying with his wish. He let out a muffled moan as soon as your wet pussy came in contact with his wet mouth.
On the camera, everything could be seen: your cunt glistened effortlessly and his tongue lapped up whatever your body poured for him. His scruff tickling your freshly shaved skin made you giggle and moan, little noises everywhere that sung like a melody in his ears.
Your clit tingled with a pressure that encouraged you to started riding his face. In response Joel's calloused hands came up to grip your ass and assisted your movements.
He squeezed one cheek almost too hard before spanking it a few times, your flesh easily bruising red and stinging deliciously.
"Joel, your mouth... Perfect," you blabbered. You were filled with bliss: your eyes were closed, fingers twirling playfully in his messy hair.
God, he licked you so fucking good. So messy but that's what made it effortlessly perfect.
"I—oh my God. Fuck! I love your fucking mouth," you moaned loudly.
"Mhm?"
You shuddered at the vibrations, hips stuttering into his licks and sucks even deeper.
"Yes, Joel!" You cried, "Fuck you're gonna make me cum... You're gonna make me cum!"
He spanked your ass even more at this, making both cheeks turn a bashful color and jiggle against his jawline.
With trembling thighs you managed all of your strength to hump him harder and faster. Doing whatever you fucking could to reach your climax.
"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" You happily cheered as your juices began to relentlessly pour out of your squelching cunt and down his chin.
A satisfied smile rose to your face as your clit throbbed through the orgasm Joel had just given you. You slowed down on your own time allowing him to savor every last drop he'd be tasting for now.
You carefully removed your weight from his face, feeling more out of breath than ever. Meanwhile Joel sat up and swiped up some of your come with his thumb just before forcing it into your mouth and using his other hand to pinch out some that managed to get inside of his nose.
You were a tad embarrassed by his action but his subtle grin let you know that there was nothing more sexy than getting you so wet that it literally almost suffocated him.
Your mouth latched into him, cherishing the scruff surrounding his face. He went to lay on top of you again, your head now hanging off of the foot of the bed; he held your legs to your chest and slid into you easily making you whine at the slight burn that came with being stretched out.
With furrowed brows and an agape mouth, he incandescently moaned into the thick air while his thick thumb found your sensitive clit. You flinched and exhaled harmoniously at the combination of pleasure, enriched in the ecstasy he gave.
"You're so fuckin' tight, babydoll. Agh—almost can't take it," he taunted. "M'gonna have to ruin ya."
He gently released the grip of your legs and put his weight onto you. His arms slithered beneath you, wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe. Then he kissed you, much more softly than before and rolled his hips back and forth. Your slick walls gripped him, trying to suck him in deeper.
His lips pulled off of you with a pop and he licked a thick line from your clavicle to behind your ear as if he magically knew it was your sweet spot.
You giggled and shivered at the ticklish feeling, enduring it until it started to feel more sensual. He felt you relax within his touch and took it as opportunity to nibble the spot, biting it just enough to hurt a little bit.
Between his movements and your sweaty bodies sticking together you felt almost useless; you were used to doing the work, giving instead of taking. But it felt too good to stop now.
When you clawed at his back he pushed himself up and started slamming into you. You gasped, digging your nails into his arms.
"Love those pretty little sounds you're makin' f'me," he hummed, pushing his hand into your exposed neck and gripping it. "You like that? Hm? Ohh, you fucking love it. Look it at you."
You raised a hand and smacked his cheek lightly—your way of saying fuck you considering his grasp of you. He reciprocated, landing a firm smack to your face and earning a smile in return.
"Fuckin' brat needs to be put in her place—"
You shook your head attempting to hum out a no.
The hand he had around your neck reached up to squish your cheeks so that he could come eye to eye with you. "God, fuck. I can't even punish you when you look at me with those pretty eyes," he said defeatedly. "Look at you, babydoll. You're so fuckin' tight. Best fuckin' pussy ever. So wet, just f'me."
"All yours, Joel. I'm all yours."
"Yeah?" He cooed. "You're all mine?"
"Fuck yes!"
"Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum on my cock," he pleaded, "get it nice and wet for me darlin', need you to cum for me."
Between his scruff voice and brutal thrusts you found yourself falling into another orgasm, everything around you ceased to exist.
The world went quiet aside from Joel's encouragements and praises; you could feel the blood pumping throughout your body, your heart punching against your chest, and your body molding to the twists and curves of Joel's body.
As you squeezed and scratched and begged him for more more more you felt the tension between your legs dissolve passionately into a sear so strong you felt it warm and burning the flesh along your belly.
Joel watched your chest rise and fall with your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He rode you out until the very end of your high before picking you up and sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling him.
Feeling even more horny and turned on than before you wasted no time and began bouncing on his painfully hard dick.
He was fighting his climax, needing to feel you wrapped around him as long as he could take.
"You feel so fucking good, daddy," you whined, "want your cum."
"You want me to cum inside you babydoll?" He pouted.
"Yes Joel. Want you to fill me up..."
"Gonna ruin that pretty pussy," he grunted, "gonna make you mine. This pussy belongs to me now, doesn't it?"
He listened to you whimper and weep and whine, coaxing you through it all while offering a few pops to your ass and thighs for encouragement.
You watched him lay down, arms folded behind his head to enjoy the little show you were putting on for him. Hair bouncing and flaying everywhere while you rode him with a bobbling head—the view from where he was looked pretty fucking perfect.
Your movements halted and you managed to turn around on his cock while keeping it inside; hearing a strained gurgly moan come from him as a result, you mercilessly began riding him again giving him the best view of your ass as it clapped against the peak of his belly.
"Good fuckin' slut," he slapped your tatted thigh and watched intently for a moment or two. "Good girl, mhmm. Doin' such a perfect job on daddy's cock."
Joel then sat up and reached for your clit, rubbing the sweetest little circles on it and using his free hand to turn your face to kiss him.
Reverse cowgirl had always been him favorite position, but he can't remember a time or even a moment where it felt this fucking good.
"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he whispered with his forehead leaning against yours. "Gonna make me fuckin' cum. Tha' what you want, baby? Want your daddy to fill this fuckin' pussy up?"
He gave your clit a mean smack but it only made you go faster.
"Need you to cum! Fucking—ohh! Cum for me, please daddy. Want you to f-fill me up!"
Joel began thrusting to meet you halfway, and his eyes stayed locked with yours as he muttered a string of profanities.
"Oh shit. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Fuck yes!"
He painted your pussy with his hot, sticky ropes of cum, moaning your name over and over with fluttering eyes and a tight grip on your hips. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and meeting you with a few more soft kisses as a thank you.
You felt his cum slowly pouring out of your swollen cunt, trailing down his softening cock and on the sheets. You two stayed like that for a while, savoring the moment and taking your time.
A while later while he was cleaning up between your legs he said, "You better upload that video."
"You weren't joking?" You scoffed, wearing a smile.
"I wasn't joking," he said contently.
That night once he had fallen asleep in your bed, you decided to upload the full video uncut with the perfect title...
My DILF Neighbor Comes Over For A Creampie ♡
346K Views | 93% | 16 Hours Ago | ♡ 532
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