my all-time favorite enhypen fics from my favorite ao3 authors <3
── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩
[disclaimer: all of these fics are mxm AND contain 18+ content! mdni!]
── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩
author - malamyszk
fav works: oh, is it love? (heejake), but no one’s supposed to, they just want to (heejake), what the water gave us (heejake), all i want for christmas (is you, tree farm guy) (heejake), a haunting (and now you’re mine) (heejake), july flame (can i call you mine) (heejake)
author - pinkfire
fav works: mixed up (heejake), have to pay (heejake), like the boys (heejake), like a prayer (heejake), this kind of love is getting expensive (heesun)
author - devianthee
fav works: at the alter of desire (heejayke), he my best friend, yeah we not a couple (jayke), 1-800-want u (jakehoon)
author - darlingriki
fav works: anything but mine (sunsun), you were never mine (but do you remember?) (sunsun)
author - ponyohoon
fav works: that’s how the light gets in (heejake), sink or swim (jakehoon), i’ll be like one of your girls (or your homies) (heejake)
── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩 ── ᡣ𐭩
i hope all of these links are correct & work for you guys!! let me know if you want a post dedicated to my fav enha fics by anonymous authors since i didn’t include them in this one :) make sure you view the tags before reading the fic as some may contain triggering content!
𝜗𝜚 bullying Choso until he cums- but you’re only following the instructions on his shirt!
more like this
ೃ࿔*:･
You’d seen the shirt online, your screen far too bright for how late it was, coloured pixels burning into your pupils as you scrolled in the darkness waiting for your boyfriend to get home. You were only really looking through the clothes website as something to fill the time, minutes dragging on like molasses. Thumbing in boredom past the designs with obscure city names and sports teams you've never heard of, you saw it.
You’d snorted in laughter, thumb hovering over the picture the website provided as you clicked to enhance the size of the image. At first, it was funny on its own- the stupidity of the big, unapologetically blocky font, the even stupider saying emblazoned across the chest.
Don’t bully me, I’ll cum!
But then, your mind drifts to your sweet, unsuspecting boyfriend. Choso is probably on his way home now, you think- and although he’d never admit it out loud (he would if you asked nicely enough) he did enjoy you being mean to him just a little more than the average person probably should.
Okay, maybe more than a little; the moment you’re on top of him and your palm lands open across his cheek in a slap he’s been begging for, he’s liable to cum immediately. A whine always rips from his throat when you degrade him, watching the way he likes going stupid under your slick hand as you wrap it around his cock and whisper how dumb he looks.
Choso doesn’t really advertise this side of him, preferring to stay quiet about it, but to anybody watching it’s painfully obvious. The way he stares at you when you speak, the way he flushes furiously when you ‘accidentally’ trip and sink your nails into his bare arm for balance.
Yeah, he likes when you bully him.
You smirk, clicking on the size range, and the shirt is ordered within minutes.
“Hey, baby.” Choso announces when he walks through the door, immediately wrapping his arms around you, “what’re you doing? I missed you.”
You lazily scratch his nape with your nails, letting him rest his bodyweight on you in its heavy entirety. “Just... some shopping. I think you'll like it.”
He perks up. “Show me when it arrives?”
You both know what he’s insinuating, a blush already tinting his face; whenever you buy new clothes, ranging from lacy lingerie straight out of his fantasies to simple jeans, Choso adores watching you try them on for him. He sits there patiently at the end of the bed, like a well trained puppy, and waits for you to come out of the bathroom and twirl around.
More often than not, it results in him whimpering between your thighs- not that either of you are complaining about that particular part of your impromptu fashion shows.
Choso's imagining it already, you can tell. If you aren't telling him outright, it must be something good- not to say he doesn't think you look good in everything (or nothing, he loves that even more) but the way you're smirking down at him makes drool water up in his mouth. Maybe it'll be lingerie you already own in a different colour, he muses, or perhaps it'll be a different style.
You smile, a slight tint of evil mixed into the mirth that Choso’s pretty eyes don’t quite pick up on. “Yeah, of course I'll show you, baby.”
He hums happily and buries his face into your skin again.
The shirt arrives three days later (express shipping does wonders, apparently) and you almost squeal with excitement as you cut the parcel open on the kitchen table, scissors in hand. “Choso! My package arrived-!”
He practically teleports around the corner, eager to see what it is you’ve been hiding from him for the last few days. You can’t conceal the grin on your face as you unfold the black fabric, holding back a giggle as you see his brow scrunch in confusion- surely that’s too much fabric for your size, right? Or maybe you just wanted a new sleep shirt, but why would you when he gives you all of his-?
“For you!”
Choso’s eyes land on the text as you hold the shirt up to his eyeline. “For me…?”
Oh. Ohhh.
He goes pink almost immediately as he reads the words printed onto the fabric. “I am not wearing that.”
“But it’s trueee, Cho!” You whine, “you know it’s true.”
“It isn’t.” He says adamantly, sulking at the shirt like it personally offended him. “I won’t cum if you bully me.” Although, his eyes are already darting away from the words as though he isn't ready to think about it too deeply yet.
You raise a brow, dropping the fabric onto the counter. “Is that a challenge?”
He swallows thickly, “n-no, I’m just saying-“
“Wear the shirt, Choso.”
“I don’t want-“
“Wear. It.”
Something about the tone of your voice, the way your eyes narrow darkly as you glare at him, makes something in Choso instantly obey as he reaches out for the shirt. He doesn’t break his annoyed eye contact as he yanks his own clothing over his head, and you try not to let your eyes drift too far down to the wisps of hair dipping below his belt and the muscle of his abdomen.
When it’s on, fabric new and slightly scratchy against his skin, you smile. “Good boy.”
Choso’s cock twitches in his jeans, but he’s determined this time- he will not let you condescend him into an orgasm, no way.
But he will if you have anything to do with it.
“You’re such a fucking slut, Cho.” You pant above him, thighs firmly planted either side of his lean hips. What better way to test his resolve than to bully him until he cums? You’re just making sure the shoe- or, in this case, the shirt- fits!
He moans wantonly, big eyes swimming with tears as he gazes up at you while you bounce on his cock. “B-baby-“
You don’t hesitate, gripping his jaw with one clammy hand and glaring down at him. meanly. “Shut up.”
He gasps, hips bucking as the whites of his eyes make their debut. He’s still wearing the shirt- you insisted on it- and the fabric is heated below your fingers. It’s almost hilarious, on some strange and perverted plane of humour you like to operate on when it comes to your boyfriend.
Choso is trapped below you, around you, inside you as you use him to prove your point. He’d like to say he isn’t struggling to keep his side of the argument alive, but his mind is quickly getting fuzzier as his cock twitches inside your cunt.
“You’re just sooo pathetic for me, aren’t you?” You breathe out, grasping his face into position. You can feel the physical shake that trembles through his body, his hips lurching up to meet the swift glides of your pussy along his sticky length.
Choso groans, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “I-“
Slap!
He inhales sharply, cock splurging out a few more rivulets of pre when your palm lands on his cheek. You roll your hips harder, “I didn’t tell you that you were allowed to speak, Cho.”
He gives in, nodding dazedly into your touch as you thumb over the stinging mark your hand left behind.
“Look at yourself.” You spit out at him- literally, a thin string dripping glassily down to his mouth. Choso’s lips are already parted, heaving in gasping little breaths between whines, so it isn’t hard for him to readily take the saliva messily smearing across his lips and lick it up like a dog.
You’d feel terrible for bullying your boyfriend if he didn’t look so pretty as you did so. One cheek redder than the other from your slap, hair completely messy against the pillows, eyes totally glossed over and filling with tears as you bully him to an orgasm.
“Cho…” you coo, voice sickeningly sweet, deliberately slowing your movements to hear the way he groans in protest, “do you wanna cum?”
He nods slowly, movements sluggish. You notice the way he isn’t speaking- clearly, your slap did its job and he’s waiting for permission. “You can speak.”
“Please-“ he begs almost immediately, hands encircling your thighs, hips, waist- any skin he can get to, “please, just let me cum, need it so bad-“
You pretend to ponder on this longer than necessary, until the wait dips over into cruelness and Choso is left throbbing and whimpering against the lack of friction. “I’ll let you cum, if-“
“Anything.” He breathes, trembling as you start to pick up the pace again, “please, anything, just let me-“
“You can’t cum until after I do.”
Choso freezes, expression akin to that of a deer in headlights. You know his favourite thing is cumming at the same time as you, how could you be so cruel? “But-“
“You heard me. Wait.”
And he does, because he has no choice; he has to wait and torture himself with the feeling of your warm body pressed up against his, your heat bleeding into the shirt until Choso feels dizzy.
When you feel your orgasm creep up on you, building slowly, you press your mouth against his for the first time since you started and Choso moans into the kiss like he’s been starved.
“M’so close, Cho-“ you keen against his lips, nipping at the skin only to soothe it with your tongue. The feeling of your cunt pulsing so perfectly around his cock makes Choso cry, a few stray tears slipping saltily down his face.
“Please-“ he heaves, “c’mon, let me cum-“
You relent, nodding once, and the effect is instantaneous. His spine arches up off of the mattress, cock jumping inside you as he spills over in milky strands that streak the skin of your thighs and his pelvis, smearing shinily.
Choso trembles through the aftershock, the shirt clinging stupidly to his chest when you roll off him. You giggle as the text comes into focus again along with the rest of your blurred vision. “I told you the shirt was right.”
He groans exhaustedly, throwing an arm across his still-teary eyes. “Stop.”
“You like me bullying you.” You giggle, voice singsongy in a way that should be irritating but really just makes Choso’s heart melt. “I told youuuu.”
Two arms wrap around you without warning, cramming your face against the shirt. He sighs defeatedly, pressing his mouth to your forehead in a gentle kiss to get you to stop squirming out of his grip and lie still. “You’re mean.”
There’s a few moments of silence, and Choso briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep on his chest, but then-
“If I’m nice to you, will you cum too?”
ೃ࿔*:･
masterlist
a/n: okay so funny story I actually DID see a shirt with this on a while ago and thought about Choso, so maybe this is a manifestation
✮ SEX EDUCATION: where your hot professor teaches you how to cum!
⋆ LESSON 1: GUIDANCE ON HOW TO TOUCH YOURSELF
you're on his lap, your back is pressed against his chest, your legs draped over his. "wider, baby." you spread, your skirt is bunched around your waist. your soaked panties are already on his desk. he made you take them off the moment you walked in, holding them up to the light and tsking at the wet spot.
"there," he says, satisfied. "now i can see everything." his hands grip the soft skin behind your knees and push your legs even further apart. you're completely open, completely exposed, your bare pussy on full display, glistening in the lamplight. you can feel the wetness pooling beneath you, soaking into his trousers, into his chair. "fuck, look at you. you're already dripping, good girl." you whimper and try to close your legs, but his grip tightens. "ah-ah. keep them open. this is a lesson, remember? you need to watch. you need to learn."
you force yourself to stay still, your pussy throbbing under his gaze. "touch yourself." you hesitate. your hand hovers over your own body, trembling. "i said touch yourself, baby. two fingers. start with your folds. feel how wet my good girl is." your hand moves. your fingers slide through your wetness, and the sensation makes you gasp. you're so wet that your fingers glide effortlessly, your own arousal coating them. "that's it. feel how wet you are? you've been thinking about it, haven't you, baby?" "yes," you whisper. "every night?" "yes, professor." "tell me what you did." "i—" your fingers are moving in slow circles around your clit now, and it's hard to think. "i touched myself. in bed. thinking about you." "good girl. show me how."
your middle finger sliding down to circle your entrance, then back up to your clit. "mmnh..." your hips buck against your own hand. "faster, baby."
you speed up. the wet sounds fill the room, your head falls back against his shoulder, and you feel his breath against your ear. "now two fingers inside, good girl. fill that pretty pussy for me." you slide them in, and the stretch makes you gasp. your walls clench around your own fingers, but it's not enough. it's never enough. you can feel how tight you are, how desperate. "that's it. fuck yourself on your fingers. imagine it's my cock, baby. imagine it's me splitting you open." "ah— ah— hnnggh! professor—" "look at you," he murmurs. "so desperate. such a good student, fucking herself on her own fingers. you'd take my cock just like that, wouldn't you? all desperate and whimpering." "yes! yes!" you're fucking yourself faster now, your hips lifting to meet your own hand. "that's my good girl, play with your clit now. use your thumb. circle it." your thumb finds your clit, and the it makes you cry out. you're so sensitive, so swollen, every touch sending sparks through your body.
"ah—hah! professor! i'm— i'm close—" "good. cum for me, baby. cum on your fingers like the good pretty girl you are." but something stops you, you're right there, teetering on the edge. your fingers pump desperately, your thumb rubs frantically, but you just can't. "i— i can't— nnghhh! " your voice breaks. "i can't without you, professor. please. please, i need your fingers. i need you."
his grip on your legs tightens so hard it might bruise. you can feel how hard he is against your lower back, his cock pressing into your spine. "if i touch you, baby, it's no longer for education. do you understand that? if i put my fingers inside this tight little pussy, it's because i want to. not because i'm teaching you. do you really want that?" "yes," you sob. "yes, i want that. i don't care. please! i don't care about the lesson... hah! i just want you—"
"say it again." "i want you to touch me. i want your fingers inside me. please, professor, please— i need you—" "that's all i needed to hear, babygirl." his fingers slide into you over yours. two of them — thick, massive. he pushes past your fingers, deeper, and the stretch is blinding. you scream, but his other hand clamps over your mouth, muffling it.
"shh, shh," he breathes in your ear, but he doesn't stop. his fingers move inside you with yours, fucking you open. "take it. take it all, baby." "mmmnnnghh! hir— nnnghh!" "that's it. feel how thick i am? feel how your pussy stretches around me? this is what you've been begging for, good girl." his fingers are so much bigger than yours. they fill you completely, pressing against your walls, curling exactly where you need them. and then his thumb finds your clit, presses down, circles. "fuck— ah!.. haaah— professor!"
your legs kick, but he holds them wide, keeps you open, keeps you taking it. you're sobbing against his hand, drool running down your chin, completely destroyed. "that's it. that's my good girl. you're going to cum on my fingers now. you're going to soak my hand, baby. say thank you." "th— thank you—" "louder." "thank you, sir!—"
your orgasm rips through you, your back arches, your head falls back against his shoulder, and you cum hard, your walls clenching around his fingers, your own fingers, everything. your vision whites out. a long, guttural moan tears from your throat as he works you through it, his thumb still circling your clit, his fingers still pumping, never stopping.
"fuck," he mutters, watching you fall apart. "that's it. that's it. good fucking girl. look at you cumming all over my hand. such a pretty sight." when you finally come down, you're shaking. your hand falls away, when he slowly withdraws his fingers, shiny with your cum, and brings them to his mouth. he sucks them clean, one by one, eyes never leaving yours. the sight makes your pussy clench again. "you're a fast learner, babygirl."
⋆ LESSON 2: LET HIM DROWN IN YOU!
his desk is cold against your bare ass. he's cleared it — pushed aside stacks of papers, a laptop, a mug of pens, some students' project folders — and lifted you onto it like you weigh nothing. your legs are spread wide, your heels resting on the edge, your pussy fully exposed and dripping, the papers beneath you are getting wet, but neither of you gives a single fuck.
"you asked me how this would help you learn," he says, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you even wider. "the truth is, baby, it doesn't." you blink. "what?" "i just want to eat this pretty pussy. i've been thinking about it since the first time you sat on my lap. that sweet little cunt grinding on my thigh. i need to taste it."
"then—" "you need to know what a good eating out feels like. so you know what to expect." he grins against your inner thigh. "but mostly because i can't stop thinking about your taste." and then his mouth is on you. he doesn't start slow. he dives in, tongue flat against your entire pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit in one long, wet stroke. you cry out, your hands flying to his hair. "ah! fuckfuckk! professor!"
"mmmnh— fuck—" he hums against you, and the vibration makes your hips buck. his tongue circles your clit, flicks it, sucks it into his mouth. he pulls back just enough to spit on your pussy — a wet, obscene glob that slides down your folds — and then he's back, spreading it with his tongue, mixing his spit with your wetness.
"that's it. taste so fucking good, baby. sweet, wet and perfect. this is what a good pussy tastes like. remember that." "nnngh!— ah— hnnggh—hiro—" his fingers spread your folds open, and he dives deeper, his tongue pushing inside you. you feel it fucking you, curling, tasting your walls, and you're already so close, your thighs trembling around his head. "cum for me, baby," he says against your clit. "first one. give it to me." "i— i—" "cum. now."
his tongue flicks your clit fast, hard, and you cum with a scream, your back arching off the desk. he doesn't stop. he licks through it, groaning against your sensitive pussy drinking everything you give him. "mmmngh— yes. there we go, good girl. that's one."
your legs are shaking, you think it's over. well, it's not. he goes back in, sucking your clit between his lips, rubbing it with the flat of his tongue. his fingers slide inside you, curling, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "i can't! — another one— it's too haah! much—" "you can, pretty girl and you will. look at this pussy. she's not done yet."
his mouth descends again, and this time he's rougher. he presses his face hard into your pussy, his nose grinding against your clit, his tongue fucking you deep. he talks to it, low and breathless, his lips brushing against your folds. "such a pretty pussy. so wet for me, baby. you love this, don't you? having your professor on his knees eating you out in his office while others' works get ruined under your wet ass. you love it."
"yes! i love it! oh my go—i love it! professor—" "tell my pussy you love it." "i love it! i love my pussy— i love your mouth on it—" "then cum again, good girl." he pinches your clit between his teeth — just enough pressure, and the second orgasm rips through you. your legs clamp around his head, but he doesn't move. he stays buried in your cunt, lapping at you, groaning against you. "mmmngh. mmnh—" until you're twitching and oversensitive, sobbing from the intensity.
when you finally go limp, he looks up at you. his face is destroyed — wet, shiny, your cum dripping from his chin, his lips, his nose, his eyebrows. he doesn't wipe it off. "one more, baby."
⋆ LESSON 3: GET ABSOLUTELY POUNDED BY HIS BIG COCK
he points to his desk — the lower one, where his teaching assistant usually sits, covered in student papers. "on all fours." you don't hesitate. your palms hit the wood, your spine arches, your ass pushes back toward him, grinding in the air. you're wearing a dress tonight — short, thin, no panties, and you know he can see everything. your pussy is already dripping, your arousal slicking your thighs.
"look at you," he breathes. "soaking wet and i haven't even touched you yet." "please," you whimper. "please, professor, i can't wait anymore! i need you—" "you'll wait until i say you're ready, good girl." he drops to his knees behind you. his hands spread your cheeks apart, and you feel his breath on your cunt, hot and damp. "i've already made you cum twice tonight, remember? on my tongue, on my fingers. so this won't hurt, baby. i made sure you're ready."
"yes— yes—" but his mouth isn't finished. he leans in, licks a long stripe up your slit, and you moan, your arms nearly buckling. "for luck." "professor— i can't! mmnh! i've already—" "shut up and take it." his tongue slides inside you just to try it again. "good girl," he says, standing up. "now you're ready."
he unbuckles his belt, the sound of the metal jingling makes your pussy clench. his trousers drop just enough to free his cock — thick, hard, leaking, the head glistening with pre-cum. he strokes himself, and you watch him over your shoulder, drooling, your mouth open.
"tell me what you want, baby." "i want your cock, professor. please. inside me." "how badly, pretty girl?" "so badly i can't think. i can't breathe. please— i've been so good— i've learned everything— please just fuck me—" he steps forward. the head of his cock presses against your entrance, and you push back, trying to take him, but he holds your hips still.
"slow, baby or it'll hurt. i'm big and you're tight. breathe." "nnnngh... please—" he pushes in, just the head. you scream, but it's late, the building is empty, no one can hear you. he's so big — bigger than you imagined, bigger than his fingers, and the stretch is blinding, burning, perfect.
"breathe, baby. breathe for me." you gasp and he pushes deeper. "ah! mmnghh!!— fuck! professor!" "that's it. taking it. taking all of this cock. such a good fucking girl." he slides in to the hilt, and you feel like you're being ripped apart. his balls press against your clit, and he's so deep inside you that your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to his size.
"look at you," he groans. "taking my whole cock. this tight little pussy was made for me, babygirl." "move— please— move—" and he does. at first he's gentle — slow, deep thrusts that let you feel every inch. his hands grip your hips, guiding you, teaching you. you can feel every ridge of his cock, every vein.
"rock back into me, baby. meet my thrusts. that's it. feel how good it is when you move together." "harder, please! haah! harder!" "yeah? you want me to fuck this sweet pussy proper?" "yes, please!" he slams into you. hard. the desk screeches against the floor. papers scatter. a lamp wobbles and falls. "fuckkkfuck! hiromi!" "that's it— that's my good little slut— take this cock."
his hips pound into you, his balls slapping against your clit. he reaches around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles. your legs give out, but he holds you up, one arm around your waist, still fucking you, never stopping. "i'm gonna! gonna cum nngh! wanna—" "not yet."
he pulls you up against his chest. his cock stays buried in you, and now he's fucking you from behind, upright, one hand on your hip, one hand on your throat, squeezing just slightly. "you feel that? that's what a real cock feels like, baby. that's what you've been begging for all these weeks." "yes yes! mmmhnah! thank you, thank you professor!" "thank me by cumming. cum on my cock. soak it."
he slams into you, and his fingers work your clit, your head falls back against his shoulder, making you cum with a scream that echoes through the empty building — "ahhh— fuckkk, yesyes, so good! "fuccck, yes— cum for me— cum on my cock." your walls clench around him, and he groans. "nnnnggh— fuckkk— baby mmmnhh— gonna cum, where do you want it?"
"i'm on the pill," you gasp. "cum inside me, professor. please. please, i want to feel it." "yeah? you want me to fill this tight little pussy? you want to walk around campus tomorrow feeling my cum dripping out of you, baby?" "yes! haahhh! pleasepleaseplease!" "gonna! i'm gonna— fuck—"
he slams into you one last time. his cock pulses, and you feel it — hot, thick, flooding you. he groans your name and you feel him twitch inside you as he fills you, his cum spilling deep into your cunt. "fucckkk that's my baby, mmhnh... sweetest pussy, all mine." when he's done, he doesn't pull out. he stays inside you, his forehead resting on your shoulder, both of you breathing hard, sweat-slicked and shaking. lessons completed.
more? ──── art cr. @ yunonoai on x sparkle cr: @kthice
Toji’s got you bouncing on his cock in his car. No tinted windows. No privacy. Just raw-dogging it.
He’s been fucking into you for about almost an hour now, his stupid fat cock rubbing against your insides, making you see stars.
"T-toji, I'm feeling weird," you stutter out.
“Hm?” Is all Toji says before he takes your clit between his fingers and starts rubbing it.
You let out something between a sob and a moan as he does so.
“Toji! I really can’t—something weird's happening, please—" Your body tenses up and you start rapidly shaking.
Toji continues to fuck you once more until you spray your juices all over him.
Toji moans at the sight. “Fuck.” Is all he says before pulling you into a messy kiss. Toji does one more mean thrust into you before spilling his hot, warm seed inside you.
After a while he pulls out of you. A second later he realizes that you completely soaked his seats.
satoru gojo eats you out until he falls asleep / 0.3k
cw: 18+ mdni gojo is pussy-drunk, oral (f!reader receiving), no use of y/n, fluff
m.list
he’s nestled between your legs, his head slightly resting on your thigh, tongue swirling over your swollen clit. he’s been at this for god knows how long already—licking and suckling on your clit like it was his lifeline.
you were exhausted from the many orgasms he managed to pull from you.
“just one more, baby,” he pleaded, voice low and a little wrecked, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs. “can you do that for me?"
you nodded, and his lips closed around your clit. you moaned breathlessly, back arching slightly off his bed. you dared a glance down at him and your cunt clenched around nothing.
the sight of him alone almost sent you barreling over the edge. his cheeks were glistening with your slick, white hair completely tousled and messy from how hard you’d been pulling on it, those brilliant blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded, lashes fluttering like he was fighting sleep just to keep tasting you.
“satoru,” you whine, reaching down to grab his hand. he takes hold of it immediately, giving you a gentle squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
his eyes slip shut as he loses himself in the taste of you. lips still working against your clit, slow and indulgent.
slower. slower. slower.
he’s barely tracing the tip of his tongue through your folds now, movements lazy and dreamy, those long white lashes resting against his flushed cheeks. his breathing has gone deep and even, warm puffs of air against your over-sensitive skin.
you were having an even harder time keeping your own eyes open, but you couldn’t fight it off any longer. you fell asleep with satoru sound asleep against the plush of your thighs, his tongue still pressed soft and warm to your clit, his hand still entwined with yours.
sukuna had you in a mean mating press , he was forcing himself deeper in you. “fuck girl— your cunt is hugging me tight.’
“ryo move i have to pee.’ you squealed , feeling that weird sensation in your stomach. you tried to push at sukuna’s lower stomach but his third hand grabbed yours and pinned it to the side. ‘sukuna please.’ you begged , you didn’t want to pee all over him.
sukuna shook his head , speeding up his thrust. “fuck that. take my cock you slut.’ your mind went blank and your vision was blurry. the feeling you knew all too well was approaching and sukuna was chasing it.
‘kuna please. i need to pee.’ you cried. that pressure inching closer and closer. but sukuna didn’t stop , his fourth hand reached over to rub your swollen clit. sending shock waves throughout your already overwhelmed body.
you couldn’t hold it anymore with the amazing pleasure sukuna was giving you ; your body couldn’t hold it in. ‘shit— ryo i’m cumming.’ you moaned out , your free hand scratching at sukuna’s chest.
you legs started shaking rapidly , before your juices sprayed out onto sukuna. your mouth gaped open filling the room with a strings of moans and squeals. ‘shitttt- ahhghggghh kunaaaa fuckkkk—.’
sukuna came as he watched you unravel. your juices spayed all over his chest and cock , making the bed a mess. it was a beautiful sight. his thrust slowed , as he came deep in you.
‘that’s a good girl.’ sukuna praised as he rubbed your clit once more , your body jerking with overstimulation. you pushed his hand away as your body recovered from that crazy sensation.
sukuna pulled you into a sloppy , wet kiss. he moaned in your mouth before slowly pulling away. a string of yours and his salvia dripped onto your chin and chest. sukuna licked it up slowly before spiting it back in your mouth.
‘you need to squirt more often brat.’ sukuna teased. ‘you made a big mess tho.’
‘shut up ryomen.’ you rolled your eyes.
time invest in a waterproof mattress cover. because sukuna wasn’t stopping there.
⡴ utterly whipped gojo forcing you to praise him during sex [kinda a pt 2 to this ? ] ⡴ didn’t even touch word count
he’s balls deep in you, and yet of course he’s still spouting stupid bullshit.
“i’m doing good, right baby?” he moans (moreso whimpers), still thrusting in that half-romantic half-what it’s actually supposed to be—a hookup—rhythm. his normally porcelain cheeks are completely flushed, his cool white hair falls in his face, some strands sticking to his forehead glistening in sweat.
“i—what?” you manage to say, still out of breath from how he’s fucking into you with his unfairly big cock. every perfect ridge and vein of it is dragging against your walls as he thrusts in and out of your sopping cunt—though you’ll deny how wet you are because of how large gojo’s ego will be if he knows he actually arouses you.
“say it.” he pouts above you, gripping harder on your shoulders he’s deemed a perfect leverage point in you to help with his strokes. “say i’m doing good… please?” his blue eyes pleading to you like a puppy dog.
“gojo, i’m not fucking doing th—” he shoves all the way back in and stops his thrusts. you moan without even meaning to from the sheer amount of girth being stuffed in you. he juts his lower lip out further, clearly upset by your answer.
“c’mon,” he looks physically pained as he restrains himself from continuing his thrusts. “just say it and i’ll keep fucking you.” he whines out, sounding a lot more weak and less intimidating than he thought he would.
you breathe out. you know he’ll hold on to this for the rest of the foreseeable future but you’re close anyway. you’ll come then kick him out like always and if next time he keeps mentioning it, you’ll just stuff his face with your pussy.
“you’re doing so good, gojo.” you moan out in a shaky voice.
he moans, loudly, near pornographic, and he gets back to thrusting immediately, except he seems more motivated. his strokes are fasting and more like he’s trying to impress you. his sounds are more desperate and huffy than before.
he reaches around your waist to hug you closer and shove his face deep in your neck, right below your ear.
“haaah, fuck, baby—say i’m the best you’ve ever had, please.”
“mm, god, gojo you’re the best i’ll ever fucking have.” he cries out. cries out and actually cries. tears start streaming down his pale face and cupping along your neck and collar bone where he’s found solace. he’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon.
unwantedly but admittedly, you say this next one yourself. it’s almost like you’re starting to… like him. ew.
“such a g’boy for me, satoru.” he nuts. immediately thick cum oozes into your pussy, spilling out from how overstuffed it already is with his girthy, oversized, genetic lottery winning cock. his whole body shakes and shivers while he releases, still trying to thrust so you could finish like the good boy he is.
unfortunately he forgets he’s not god and ends up overstimulating the hell out of himself by the time he gets you to cream by his thumb pressing along your clit.
he brings his head up, covered in sweat as he’s still shaking from the feeling of nutting the hardest he ever has.
he looks nearly completely out of it before his lips curl into a smirk. “you finally called me satoru!” and then he’s attacking your lips and shoving his tongue so far down you’re throat like he’s wasn’t just near seizing from cumming.
jay is annoying with his expensive outfits, large crowds that follow him wherever he goes and that stupid perfect smile that always paints his face. little did you know that he's completely at your mercy and is willing to do absolutely everything to please you, especially when he's under you.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: richkid!jay x fem!reader
SMUT, he's down bad, service bottom / switch jay , he's bratty, reader is kind of a switch/but more dom leaning in this, blowjob, lots of teasing, swearing, begging, "pretty boy", "good boy", unprotected sex (don't unless you're sterile and tested!), cowgirl, little bit of tiddie sucking, birthday sex, lowkey degration (he's into it), slight hate fucking from readers side, university au!, not proofread (4.1k words)
park jongseong is fucking infuriating.
as much as you don't wish to admit it, he gets under your skin. the picture perfect boy, living in the big mansion that his oh so perfect family owns. apparently they even have a massive hand painted family portrait in the entry hall.
wherever he goes, the crowd follows. girl and boys, no matter who it is, they all cling to him as if he hung the fucking moon. you don't understand it, the parties he throws seem to be ordinary, he's not particularly interesting besides his parents money. yet he still lingers in the back of your mind, deeply hidden from the rest of the world, but still there.
you sit a few rows above him, boring lecture only acting as background noise. in disbelief you watch the swarm of people staring at the proclaimed golden boy, who is only taking notes.
"wow jay your handwriting is so nice!" one girl exclaims.
"shhh, you're distracting him!" shoots back another.
you scoff in disbelief. everyone has gotten fucking insane.
thankfully, as if your professor knew of your suffering, he briefly concludes the last few slides and released you into freedom. while the loyal jay solar system stays close to their sun, you squeeze past them, feeling the freedom of the end of classes.
moving through the masses you pick up some fellow students exited mutters. "yea it's gonna be insane tomorrow. he hasn't been announced anything!"
you almost stop paying attention when another drops the news.
"i mean it's jays fucking birthday, it's bound to be something."
oh god. hell awaits you tomorrow.
if people have been annoying any other day, they will be fucking insufferable tomorrow.
for a second you think of simply not showing up, but then again, you refuse to let this random man affect your studies. this has to fucking stop.
in the end, you should've just stayed at home. the halls were filled with people carrying homemade cakes, birthday cards signed by the entire university being handed around so that not a single person will be left out.
"y/n! come sign real quick." a girl you've never met in your life practically screams and shoves the card into your face.
carefully, you push the card towards her again. "no thanks, him and i don't know each other."
"come onnnn", she whines. "it's jay, everybody knows jay."
that earns her a scoff from you. "well i doubt he'll miss my signature then. he'll be just fine." and with that you move past her. it's honestly baffling to you how people still act like this in university. one would think you'd all be past the idolisation of random people at this age.
a mere 24 hours later tough, despite all the odds, you find yourself within the holy walls of residence of the golden boy.
you had been curious, you can't lie. the invitation had mysteriously found its way into your bag, a fucking qr code staring back at you.
please scan to confirm your attendance.
what did you have to lose? confirm that he's just like the other rich kids and settle this once and far all?
you hadn't put much attention to your outfit, you didn't want to give him even the slightest suspicion of going for his sake.
the place was vibrating with energy and the bass of music. the entire university must be here, what was the need for confirmed attendance?
the plan had been to lay low, observe, confirm your suspicions and disappear again. but jay's eyes had been fucking everywhere. you couldn't even make your way through the first floor without his eyes meeting yours all across the, way too big, room.
next thing you knew, you were locked into his bedroom with him. truly, you don't even remember it happen. there had been a tug on your hand up the stairs, him guiding you through the masses of students, jealous eyes staring at you in disbelief.
something inside of you had snapped the moment you heard the door click, you couldn't believe him.
"the fuck do you think you're doing?" you almost screamed at him and you yourself were surprised at your rage.
jay was fiddling with his hands in front of his chest, broad shoulders shaking with his uneven breath. his mouth opened and closed. opened. closed.
"speak!"
he sighed, eyes darting around the room and you don't miss how his eyes lingered in the corner. you turned your head. the bed. the motherfucker was staring at the fucking bed,
you scoff, grabbing his arm and dragging him across the room. his knees hit the expensive wooden frame, causing him to fall back against the abundance of pillows.
"someone fucking fluffed those up for you before your guest came, didn't they?" you mutter as you straddle him.
as if he wasn't flustered enough, your words flicked a switch in his brain and he only managed a weak nod in response.
"you're so fucking spoiled." you practically spat at him.
and in response he whines. he fucking whines underneath you.
"y/n you're so mean to me." he pouts and it's the most pathetic thing you've ever seen.
"why, because i don't fucking fawn over you when you simply breathe?"
his hands twitch, aching to touch you but he knows you'll just slap them away.
"you never even looked at me. you never went to any of my parties. i've been trying to get your attention since the beginning." he breathes, eyes low lidded and hazy.
you coo, "awww, poor baby. couldn't buy my attention, how mean of me." a fake pout forming on your face.
jay trashes around, hair messily splayed over the pillow. desperate whines keep bubbling out of him, you make him so fucking insane.
"please." he mumbles, head lulled to the side, soft pillow muffling his voice.
"hm?" you question. "please what?"
he scoffs, "let me touch you, feel you. my god anything please, please just let me be inside of you."
and there it finally was.
for a moment you only stared at him, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but your face.
he didn't know what he expected for an answer. a witty comeback, a teasing question maybe. but what he didn't expect, was you just full on laughing at him.
"you think", you manage to get out between giggles "you think that's all it takes for you to get what you want? say pretty please and i jump at you command?"
all jay can do is look at you with wide eyes, but it's not out of hurt. no. he's so fucking horny right now.
"please." he chokes out, rapidly blinking up at you. "please y/n i promise i'll make you feel good."
"hmmmm, what to do what to do..." you say with a roll of your hips against his. he hisses, sensitive cock throbbing underneath his tailored slacks.
"fuck, don't tease me i'll fucking cum in my pants."
the moment those words leave his mouth, he immediately starts to regret them. especially when he noticed the sparkle in your eyes.
"oh how awful." you pout down at him, index finger slowly slipping underneath his shirt and trailing down his torso.
you felt each and every abdomen muscle flex under your touch as his breathing starts getting heavier and heavier. but what really gets you is the sight of him when your eyes dart back to his face.
his jaw slack, eyes fixated on your fingertip: the man was utterly at your mercy.
a small chuckle leave you and you lean in to hover over his face, fingertips still ghosting over his skin.
"so responsive, hm?" you whisper in his ear and he shudders at your closeness.
with dreadful slowness your fingers travel down his abdomen, tracing every rig of his toned body.
jays eyes travel down and you grab his face. "nu-uh." you tut, index finger softly caressing the line of his jaw. "eyes on me, pretty boy."
you don't quite know where this part of you is coming from. before today, you would've imagined yourself to be in his position, not the opposite. but you refuse to give him power over you right now, not after him acting like a spoiled brat, despite the fact he showed off only for you to notice him.
after excruciating seconds, your hand started playing with the waistband of his boxers, careful fingers slipping beneath it. his hips buck involuntarily and he sighs out of frustration of his erection being exposed to the cool air.
ever so slowly you move your along the elastic band, other hand pulling his slacks down and inching closer to his throbbing cock. the sound of his frantic breathing music in to ears. but you refuse to give in this easily and make the band suddenly snap back against his skin.
a strangled moan escapes him and his eyes close shut, brows furrows. "fuck, please y/n."
"who knew you could beg this sweetly?"
"could've shown you ages ago baby, you never fucking looked at me though."
you smile at his witty remarks, despite his already fucked out state.
"can't have the birthday boy wait much longer then can't i?".
he frantically starts nodding; god he's absolutely pathetic and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.
your lips replace your fingers along his waistband, teeth nipping at his skin. he twitches in response and you press his hips back to the mattress. "stay. or i'll stop."
his hands fist the sheets and he throws his head backs in frustration.
you start placing open mouthed kisses all over his boxers, careful to avoid where he wants you most. though that doesn't stop you from "accidentally" nudging his cock with your nose through.
"oopsie." you giggle, placing a kiss on the spot and he hisses.
"please, i need your mouth on me so fucking bad." his voice is raspy, filled with need and desperation.
you're not letting him get his wishes that easily though.
with one smooth motion, you lick his length from base to top, teeth grazing the fabric. you feel his legs flex, but he refrains from moving much.
"hmmm, good boy." you praise, pressing another kiss to his clothed tip.
he jerks again at the petname and you notice the faint red staining his cheeks.
"awwww, pretty boy blushes at the slightest form of praise."
your words only intensify his embarrassment, one hand covering his face, one that you instantly remove.
"absolutely not. you've been acting like an attention whore all along, you don't get to hide now."
he scoffs, little high pitched noise bubbling out of his throat. if he wants to play brat you just have to put him back into his place.
not giving him time to fix his attitude your teeth are on him, but not nipping at his skin. no, your teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of his, still clothed, tip.
tortured moans fill the room, his hands flying down to swat your head away.
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, please- ngh, i'll be nice now i promise."
you take his hand into his, intertwining his long fingers with yours.
"mhm, you better." you murmur back, as you free his cock from his precum stained boxers. the cool air made him hiss, head thrown back in both pleasure and pain.
slowly, you wrap your free hand around the base of his length, gliding it up at down at an almost cruelly slow place.
the moans that spill out of him were almost pornographic, low guttural ones mixing with high pitched whines.
deciding that he's suffered enough you start kitty licking around his tip, swirling your tongue around it.
his hips buck and he immediately whines. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry you just make me feel so fucking good."
you place him fully in your mouth, humming softly at his pleas. he tugs at your still intertwined hand and you squeeze back, reminding him that you're the only in control.
it doesn't take much for jay to get close, a few bobs of your head, not even having to take him down your throat and he's panting like a dog.
"fuck, fuck y/n please, can i cum? please i want to come so fucking bad." you couldn't help a giggle escape you, the vibrations only making him moan back at you even louder.
you pick up the pace, hand squeezing the base of his cock your mouth hasn't reached yet.
his moans turn into full on squeaks, head moving from left to right, legs twitched besides you.
"i'm gonna cum, fuck." he breathes, as his torso curved forwards, eyes forced shut and mouth wide open. he squeezed your intertwined hands so tightly you were sure all circulation was cut off for a second.
warm liquid filled your mouth and he slumped back onto the mattress, taking deep breaths to recover from his high.
"you're fucking insane, you want me to fucking die." he murmurs, eyes locking with yours.
sitting upright again, making sure he sees you swallow all of his release as you fix your hair. "someone's got to put you in your place eventually." you smile back at him sweetly.
"don't stop now then."
you cock your head at his words.
"touch me again, i'll do whatever you want from me." he rasps, not a single trace of uncertainty on his face.
"you have a crowd of people downstairs, desperate for your attention. meanwhile you're begging for a simple touch, don't you think that's a little pathetic of you?"
"i don't fucking care about them." he spats out. "i'll send them home for all i care. heck, i'd let you do this in front of them all. let them see you're all i want."
your heart stutters a little at that confession. until now this was teasing, pushing some boundaries, but you're starting to truly believe he was serious.
" 's that so? what a sweetheart you are, park."
"you fucking ruined me." he continues. "you're on my mind all the time, i can't focus on anything. nothing matters as much as being around you."
you scoff. "what happened to just talking to me. we've never exchanged a single word until today."
"i was scared, okay?" his eyes dart away from yours. "i'm not used go people not wanting to be in my vicinity. i thought you hated me."
a wave of emotion hit you, one that you couldn't quite place. sure, you avoided him because you were annoyed at this golden boy status, but you did assume things before actually having had a proper conversation with him.
"i never hated you." you whisper back.
he scoffs, "well you weren't quite fond of me."
"true, but i was more annoyed and irritated than anything else."
to that he only hums. his hands fidget and you hesitate for a moment before taking them into yours. you don't say anything and simply put them on your hips.
"if i'd hate you that much would i get you a birthday present?"
"huh?" jay looks at you, utterly confused and before he knew it he witnessed you removing your top.
"never seen tits before?" you chuckle at him — he looked like he'd just seen a unicorn walk into the room.
"no, i mean yes...uh, not yours tho." as soon as his words left him he cringed at himself. "gosh i sound pathetic."
not in your wildest dreams would you've imagined having your tits be this intriguing, let alone to jay.
"mhm, maybe a little. its cute though."
his head shot up at that and you laugh.
"you're so eager for praise, don't u get enough as is?" you tease.
"this is my first time getting it from you," he mumbled, "cut me some slack."
your hands travel up his torso, tracing little shapes and roaming mindlessly. " gonna let me have some fun with you? what'ya think about that?"
jay only manages a nod and you don't fail to notice the now faster moving rise and fall of his chest.
"well, get naked then park."
in record time jay tugs off his shirt, carelessly throwing it around the room. there flies a random 400 dollar shirt.
"you don't take care of your stuff well do you?"
he props himself up by his elbows, "not when i have to take care of you first."
you raise your brow at that, eyes slightly squinting down at the man looking up at you as if you were on ocean in the sahara and he's been wandering for weeks to find it.
"you sure you're not all talk, park?"
a sly smile spreads on his face. "feel free to punish me if you're not satisfied" he shoots back.
game on.
jay's eyes never left yours when you removed the rest of your clothes and you don't miss the swallow after he saw the pretty white panties you wore, eyes following it flying towards his previously discarded slacks.
"real price is here." you mutter, taking his chin into your hand to make him look at you again.
jay didn't know where to look first. having you completely bare on top of him seemed to have fried the last remaining braincells he had. up and down his eyes flickered, from face to tits to pussy.
"jesus christ you're gorgeous." he says, voice so breathless it almost sounded comical.
you hum, positioning your hips right above his.
with excruciating slowness you lower yourself, carefully watching how he switches from low lidded, lust filled to screwed shut eyes and sharp hisses.
"fuck, fuck more please." he chokes out and you pause, only halfway down his length. giving him what he wants easily was not on your list.
you reach your hand down, fingers wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing. and my god; the sounds that spilled out of him were heavenly.
"please, oh my god don't tease me i'll be so good i promise," he rasps, looking up with you with glassy eyes. cute.
hand moving away from his cock, you place it against his stomach, spreading yourself as you continue to glide down on him.
"jesus you're so wet, you're so fucking perfect oh my god."
you chuckle. you don't even need to speak and he's babbling.
"pussy got you talking sweet to me, huh?" you tease and he whines.
"just don't want you to stop, please don't stop."
deciding you won't torture him much longer you drop your hips with one quick motion and you both gasp. you underestimated just how deep he'll be inside you now.
you had to take a few deep breaths, writhing jay underneath you absolutely losing his mind at the feeling of being hugged by your gummy walls.
"holy shit, move," he pleads, "please, please move i'm gonna go insane."
you slowly start rolling your hips. god did he feel good inside of you. you've heard people praise this man into the ground but surprisingly never heard much of his sex life and his performance. even if, you doubt that they could've prepared you just how feel he fits inside of you.
"come on", he chokes out between gritted teeth, "make yourself feel good on me, use me."
you throw your head back, hand gripping onto his shoulders. his hips buck up to meet the circling of your hips and you gasp, walls clenching around him.
"fuck, you're so fucking pretty angel. can't believe you're letting me see you like this."
one would think jay has met god in person and to him it feels like it. you're his god now, he's willing to devote his entire life to worshipping you.
" 'm never letting anyone have you again. say you're mine now."
you laugh breathlessly. "is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, park?"
"if you rather me asking when i'm not balls deep inside you i'll take you on the best date of your fucking life tomorrow, pretty" he shoots back.
"gonna show you that these fucking losers you've been giving chances could never love and spoil you like i did." sharp pain interrupts on your hips as he digs his fingertips into the plush flesh.
"i got so fucking annoyed at that girl who played you. fucking loser, just like that guy who forgot the right time of your first fucking date."
he remembered. he remembered them all; and you didn't quite know how to feel. your heart swells as your walls clench around him again.
"should've just fucking talked to me then," you manage to moan out. "could've been yours since the moment you wanted."
at your words he pulled your hips down even closer against his, his cock hitting your sweet spot just right and you gasp, falling forwards. encouraged at your reaction, he pushes you back upright again, hips snapping upwards at a relentless pace.
high pitched, almost squeaky moans spill out of you, hands gripping onto anything that could offer some stability. but jay hasn't had enough, he needs you as desperate for him as he is for you. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tiny calculated circles on it.
"fuck, jay holy shit oh my god, don't fucking stop."
"not so cocky anymore, huh princess?"
you laugh, "fuck you. you're not any better."
"gotta get an answer out of you don't i?"
"yes", you whine "yes i'll be yours, fuck, oh my god you're so big."
his ego boosted and he sits up slightly, lips wrapping around you nipple, giving it a few sucks. you moan in response, back arching forwards as he kitten licks around it before moving to the other.
" 'm so close." your voice barely even noticeable.
he hums, mouth still on your breast before releasing it with a small pop. "let yourself go pretty, hm? make a mess on my cock, come on."
your hips now match his frantic movement, the pressure of his finger against your clit, cock drilling into you, almost making you see stars.
jay is as much of a mess as you are, hair stuck to his forehead, pupils blown wide and fixated on your pussy.
"jay-"
"i know, pretty, me too."
without thinking you fall forwards, lips crashing into his. he gasps, hands moving from your hips to your waist to pull you closer. it was barely considered kissing or making out, the two of you were practically devouring each other alive. tongues clashed in fight for dominance, both of you too stubborn to back down and admit defeat.
two more thrusts and you feel the warmth in your stomach drop, thighs clenching and pussy swallowing his cock. white coats your vision and you go limb as you feel jay stiffen up underneath you, a mix of groans and whines filling your ears.
you feel his heart beating through his chest, messy rhythm matching yours. two large hands find your waist as he starts dragging his fingertip up and down your sides, involuntarily tickling you.
"you're so fucking cute." he mumbles sleepily as you try and doge his touch.
your eyes meet his, heart stuttering at his fixated gaze on you.
"you're not too bad yourself i guess," and he laughs, hips bucking up, cock still burrowed deep inside you, nudging your sweet spot for a second.
involuntary you squeak in surprise, slapping his chest lightly and squeezing his cock with your walls in response. he moans back, wide smile spreading on his face.
"feisty girl you are." he beams, connecting your lips with his. this time it's not as fiery, no clashing of teeth and messy tongues. no, it was gentle and deliberate.
lips still connected, you rolled you on your side, cock slipping out of you and you gasp at the emptiness. you gasp instantly swallowed by him he deepened the kiss, one hand leaving your waist to softly cup your cheek.
"you still standing with the answer you gave earlier?" he whispers against your lips and you hum.
"nu-uh," he pulls back and you whine, "use your words."
you squint at him, "don't you use my words against me, park."
at that he only laughs, pressing a few kisses on your cheeks. "forgive me, but i can't have you thinking i'll let you be in control all the time."
"oh please," you scoff, "you were literally begging for me a few minutes ago."
"and i'll do it again, but next i'll have you begging baby."
he smiles and for a moment you forgot how you hadn't been charmed by him the moment you saw him.
"let's see if you're not all talk then, birthday boy. make a wish."
ʟɪɴꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: happy birthday daddy, you getting fucked tonight 👅
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @saeivra @shawnyle @kookiesnkim @itsnotawrongnumber @shaiimuraaa @yelihusband @chaebbys (comment or send me an ask if you want to be tagged or removed <33)
ʜᴏɴᴏʀᴀʀʏ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: @jaylaxies true royalty in this tag section im shaking in my boots typing this
cedric diggory and all the ways he quietly loves you... (a habits list, and probably not the last one i’ll make)
hi! omg this is my first headcanon (blurb?? one-shot??) whatever it is I've had so much fun writing it!!! it’s been a busy few days and I promise that I’m still working on the next chapter but i wanted to get this out because it made me so soft 🥹 thank you so much to the sweet soul who requested this, it genuinely filled my heart up putting it together. here are some of the little things cedric diggory does when he’s in love with you. habits, quirks, tiny rituals. the kind of stuff that piles up over time and makes you realize just how much someone sees you. feel free to imagine them as canon in the insatiable universe (because honestly, they are)
★ he always waits outside your classes — and outside the entrance of your common room in the mornings!! even if you’re running late, even if he’s drenched from practice. he’ll lean against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes flicking to the door every few seconds, and the moment you appear? he lights up like you’re the only person who exists.
☆ he compliments you so genuinely it makes your chest ache — not just your looks, though he tells you you’re beautiful constantly, like he’s never gotten over the sight of you. one afternoon, you’re mid-ramble about something completely ridiculous (a dream you had, a weird bug you saw, whatever) and he’s just staring, all soft-eyed and smitten. then, without even thinking, he says, “i swear, i could listen to you forever. doesn’t even matter what you’re on about. your voice is my favorite sound.” it’s so simple, so achingly sincere, you forget how to breathe for a second.
★ he kisses your forehead twice — always twice. even if he’s in a rush, even if your friends are around and it’ll definitely earn you a round of teasing. one kiss for hello, one just because. it’s instinct at this point, something he does without thinking. soft and automatic, like he’s pressing a little promise into your skin. two smooches, always.
☆ he tidies up for you when you’re not looking — he doesn’t say anything, just stacks the piles books you left out in the library, folds your laundry into neat little piles, quills tucked back into their case. he never mentions it. just blushes when you catch him in the act. “you always do it for me,” he mumbles, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
★ he keeps little pieces of you tucked away like they’re lucky charms — a hair tie, a scribbled note, your lip balm, the lighter you left in his pocket. once, it was a folded napkin with your lipstick mark on it. you don’t even know half the things he’s saved. he just likes having bits of you close, like tiny proofs that you’re real and his.
☆ he whispers that he loves you when he’s half asleep — you’re beside him reading, trying not to wake him, but his hand finds your waist and his eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep. “i love you,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with drowsiness, before pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to your shoulder. then he’s out again, like he just needed to say it, like it couldn’t wait.
★ he’s quietly obsessed with touching you — not in a flashy or obnoxious way, just enough that everyone knows you’re his. sometimes, when he sees you after a long day, or just when he’s overwhelmed with how much he’s missed you, he lifts you up in a tight hug the same way he did the first time he saw you at the yule ball, like the rest of the world falls away and it’s just you. he wraps his arms around you so tight it knocks the breath from your lungs, sways you a little like he can’t believe you’re real. in the hallways, he threads his fingers through yours like it’s second nature. under tables, it’s his hand on your thigh, thumb tracing slow circles it’s never excessive. never overdone. it’s just cedric — quietly, constantly marking the fact that you’re his favorite person in any room.
☆ he talks about you like you’re already his family — he’ll say “we” when making plans. tells his mum about your favorite meals so she can make them whenever you visit. he’s already talking about bringing you to christmas next year. and when he’s home visiting, his parents hear about you constantly. stories about what you did that made him laugh, how you did on your last assignment, just proudly gushing about you. back at school, you slip into most conversations with his friends even when he doesn’t realize it. “(Y/N) said that yesterday,” he’ll murmur, or “she actually read that book, said it was brilliant.” he thinks he’s being casual, but he’s so transparent. the boys tease him constantly, but he just grins and shrugs because he can’t help it. you’re always on his mind. always the first thing he wants to talk about. it’s like loving you changed his whole vocabulary.
★ he pays attention to everything — how you take your tea, the way you hum when you’re deep in thought, how you always tap your quill twice before writing. he catalogs you like he’s afraid of forgetting all the little things, the soft details, the throwaway comments. he picks things up for you without you asking. if you mention needing more ink, he’s already got your favorite shade tucked into his bag. if you say you liked the apple tarts at breakfast, he starts sneaking one into his pocket every morning. he reads whatever you’re reading, too. your favorite books, old essays, reading assignments. he reads it all just so he can talk to you about them. it’s not performative. it’s not a show. he’s just genuinely curious. about you, your thoughts, your world. he wants to know everything you know.
☆ he’s always calling you sweet nicknames — darling, dove, love, baby, sweetheart, flower, angel. he cycles through them like he’s trying to find the one that suits you best. once, you teased him for it and he just shrugged, grinning. “you’re too many lovely things to choose just one.”
★ he seeks you out at parties — if you’re not arriving together, you can bet he’s scanning the room the second he walks in. it doesn’t matter who he’s talking to, or what kind of crowd he’s in the middle of. the moment he spots you, he’s weaving through the noise like nothing else matters. “there you are,” he always says, smiling like the night couldn’t properly begin until he found you. sometimes he’ll kiss your cheek without thinking, or slip his hand into yours so casually it makes your heart skip a beat. it’s like his whole body sighs in relief just from being near you again.
☆ he stares when he thinks you’re not looking — you’ve caught him across the room, in the mirror, from your periphery, just watching you with this enamored look in his eyes. and then you both just… laugh. quiet, giddy little giggles like neither of you can help it. it’s your thing now, that shared glance that says we’ve done this before. because you have. that first night at the feast, evenings at the library when you were strangers across the room, something magnetic pulling your eyes back to each other again and again. like you already knew. like you were remembering, not meeting.
★ he listens so intently it makes you nervous — like he’s absorbing every word, every shift in your tone, every pause you take to catch your breath. his grey eyes soften when you speak, stormy but warm, like they’re made to reflect you. when you tell stories, he watches your mouth more than he should, totally entranced, smiling a little when you get excited and trip over your words. when you cry, he doesn’t rush to fix it. he just holds your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, and listens. not because he’s waiting to respond, because he wants to understand. because whatever hurts you, he wants to carry some of it too.
☆ he mouths “i love you” when he’s too far to say it — from the field during a match, where his hair’s a mess and his cheeks are flushed and he finds you in the crowd like it’s second nature. across the great hall, when he’s seated too far to reach you but can’t stop looking anyway. through the library shelves, when you catch each other in passing and he just stops, smiles, and mouths it, soft and sure, like it’s a secret just for you. it’s quiet. subtle. not meant for anyone else. but he says it like a promise, every single time. and you always say it back, even if it’s just in your smile.
★ he tucks your hair behind your ear when you're nervous — gently, like he's grounding you with the smallest touch. he knows you get anxious sometimes, knows the signs without needing to be told: the way your fingers fidget, your breathing shifts, how you stare a little too hard at nothing. so he leans in close and murmurs, “you’re okay. you’ve got this. i’ve got you.” his voice is soft, steady, certain. like a lifeline. even if you don’t believe it yet, he always does. and he’ll keep saying it until you do.
☆ he still gets flustered when you call him handsome — every single time. you’ll say it offhandedly, in the hallway, at breakfast, when he’s stretching before a match, and without fail, he ducks his head with a shy little smile, ears going pink. “you’re just saying that,” he’ll mumble, but he can’t quite stop the way his mouth curves or how he reaches for your hand after. sometimes he tries to play it cool, but he always ends up grinning like you’ve made his whole day. and the truth is, you have.
★ he gets visibly sulky when you’re upset — he wears your emotions like weather. if someone’s rude to you, if your insecurities start creeping in, if you just look a little too quiet for too long… he notices. he goes broody and still, tight-jawed, barely blinking as he mutters, “who do I have to kill?” and even if you laugh, he means it just enough to make your heart flutter and your anger soften. later, when things calm down, he pulls you in without a word, tucks you against him like he can shield you from the world. “you shouldn’t ever have to feel like this,” he murmurs into your hair. and you believe him, because somehow, with him, it feels true.
☆ he touches you absentmindedly when he’s studying — parchment spread out, ink smudged on his fingers, brow furrowed in focus. but even then, his body finds yours. his thumb draws slow circles on your thigh. your pinkies are hooked beneath the table like a quiet promise. his foot nudges yours every so often, like he’s checking to make sure you haven’t drifted too far. he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it half the time, but you do. and it always makes your chest feel full. like even when he’s buried in notes and diagrams, you’re still the grounding point. always his center of gravity.
♱ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ♱
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is an intentional romantic. ced doesn’t date casually—if he asks you out, it means he’s genuinely interested in you
always asks if you’re comfortable. he knows everyone has boundaries, and he's super respectful about it!!!
waits outside your classroom just to walk you to your next one
compliments with genuine thought
"there’s this look you get when you talk about [interest]… it’s really lovely. you should smile like that more :)"
likes seeing your name next to his; it's all over the margins of his textbooks
he's sappy.
seeks you out first after a match, win or lose
pulls you into the kind of hug that lifts you off the ground a little the moment he gets off his broom
asks how you thought he did first
BUT not in a fishing-for-praise way—he just cares what you think!
is very, VERY big on pda
constant hand-holding! but always gentle, like he’s asking permission with each brush of his fingers
kisses your forehead with so much love
braids flowers into your hair.. clumsily
but he's focused, with his tongue poking out in concentration and everything!
+ the eyes never lie chico
always carries extra gloves or a scarf for you during winter
whispers ‘i love you’ when he thinks you’re asleep
which he does it so soft and honestly, his voice barely above a breath, like a secret just for you
takes you out to dates that are never loud or overdone, but always sweet and personal!
..such as charming lanterns for a picnic near the black lake or stargazing with you after a hogsmeade trip <3
remembers EVERY. SINGLE. THING.
anniversaries, inside jokes, how you like your tea, the exact amount of jam you like to put on your bread, details from the stories about your vacation, you name it
..or the way you looked at him the first time he knew he was falling for you <3
writes you little notes and folds them into origami figures
overall isn’t loud about love—but is always present. he doesn't need everyone to know you’re his—he just needs you to know it 🫶🏼
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˖°࿐ cedric as your tall, pretty boyfriend who constantly blushes around you and loves to keep his arms around your waist, his chin propped on your shoulder as you talk to your friends or do a menial task…
ugh guys, he’s so cute and pretty and kind and sweet to you. he constantly mushes up your cheeks to make you smile or because you’re too cute he can’t help himself. he loves when you put your hands under his clothes because you’re cold and you want to warm them up, he just wraps you up in his arms and lets you get all the heat you need. he’s sooooo endeared by you and is putty in your hands. ceo of #ilovemygf
summary: On the verge of failing Potions thanks to your idiotic lab partner and Quidditch rival Draco Malfoy, the two of you are forced to sneak into the greenhouse at night for a final ingredient, only to stumble into some strange plants along the way.
tags: 18+ MDNI, [sex pollen] [enemies to lovers] [quidditch rivals] [eighth-year at hogwarts] [mutual masturbation] [dubcon but only because it's sex pollen lol ] [oral sex] [malfoy whimpers] [hate sex] [switchy] [penetrative sex] [multiple orgasms]
author's note: It felt weird not writing Draco & Snitch from Lessons in Losing, but i hope you like Nineteen :) Title is inspired by the song Fatal Attraction by Reed Wonder. 9k words
“This is a terrible idea,” you hiss, rounding the corner toward the side exit of the castle.
Draco scoffs. “Like you have a better one.”
While he draws his wand from his robes, you cast another wary glance over your shoulder. The hallway is empty behind you, lit with dim floating candles. The castle sleeps, blissfully unaware of the plans you and your Quidditch rival have in store tonight.
Sadly, you don't. Have a better plan, that is. That's why you're out after curfew, dodging prefects and paintings like it's your full-time job.
"There's just got to be another way," you sigh, checking behind you again.
"There's not. Unless you count failing an option. You want to fail tomorrow, Nineteen?”
Draco Malfoy has never called you by your real name—only your Quidditch number. Because that’s all you are to him. Not a person. Just an obstacle on the pitch. But you know the truth: you’re the only Seeker in the entire school who gives him a run for his money.
“No—but I think it’s important for you to remember how it’s your fault we’re in this predicament in the first place!”
“I beg to differ,” Draco says, opening the door with a flick of his wand and stepping out into the night. “I’m quite good at potions.”
You rush to slip after him before the door swings shut behind you with a heavy thud.
Prick.
You’re not sure why Draco really even gives a shit about this assignment. All he cares about is winning Quidditch matches and getting the hell out of this school.
And why should he care?
It’s not like anything bad will happen to him if he gets one bad grade. You, on the other hand, have a bit more to lose. As a trainee healer, you need to score well on the NEWTs this year to secure your spot in the coveted apprentice slots. Needless to say, failing your Potions final just simply isn’t an option.
The air outside is muggy and warm—an unusually humid night for early April. The sky is clear, though, boasting a bright full moon. A perfect night for harvesting a nocturnal plant. An owl hoots somewhere in the Forbidden Forest beyond, and the tall grass tickles your ankles as you make your way to the cluster of greenhouses on the grounds.
You yank on Draco's sleeve as he walks straight past the entrance to Greenhouse Three.
He shrugs off your hand and gestures impatiently to the latticed door. “Hurry up and open it.”
“One of us should stay on the lookout,” you huff. Your fingers brush your wand in your pocket. “I’ll go and grab the sample, and you signal me if there’s any—”
“Wait.” He stops you. “Why do you get to go inside?”
You stare at him, jaw slack. “Because I’m the healer?”
“Not yet, you’re not.”
Sometimes, you take comfort in your fantasies about Draco Malfoy.
You’re up to ten different ways you might be able to knock him off his broom. Make him suffer in a way he never saw coming. And thanks to that comment, you’re now trying to come up with the eleventh.
“Why don’t you be the lookout, and I retrieve the sample?” He asks pointedly.
You sigh, irritated. “Because, Malfoy, I don’t trust you to get an accurate sample, okay? You couldn’t even keep our original sprig alive long enough for us to use it tomorrow!”
“You know, that’s a good point.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Perhaps I don’t trust you, either. You know, we never did specify which of us was supposed to give the plant the appropriate amount of moonlight…”
You squint up at him. “Oh? We didn’t? That’s right. Maybe that’s because when we got assigned this potion, I stole the Snitch from under your nose at finals, and you didn’t speak to me for a week!”
Normally, you wouldn't complain about that. Being Quidditch rivals was one thing. Mouthing off to each other on the Pitch? That was a given. Outside of that, you didn't talk. It was a hard line.
That week just happened to be the one week you actually needed him to speak to you.
Because while he was busy trying to salvage his pride and keep his ego somewhat intact, you were actually doing all the heavy lifting for the assignment in Potions. The one Snape assigned to the both of you.
He huffs, irritated. He’s obviously annoyed you keep bringing that loss of his up, but you won’t stop anytime soon.
“We both go in, or I’m out," he says, his jaw set in determination.
You weigh your options. You could probably get the sample on your own, but you’re not willing to risk getting caught by yourself. If you get caught with him, you can do the obvious.
Blame him.
Turns out, it’s not much of a decision after all.
“Fine,” you mutter through grit teeth. “Let’s just get this over with.”
You unlock the door with a few precise spins of your wand and whisper the password low enough that Malfoy can’t hear it. The door unlatches with a hiss, and a warm, earthy smell hits you in the face. It’s familiar to you, and soothing in a way.
Malfoy shifts on his feet, eager to enter, but right before he pushes the door open, you bar his chest with your arm, wand at the ready.
You level his gaze. “Whatever you do—don’t touch anything.”
He scoffs, slipping past you and through the door with a flick of his robes. “Scared of a few plants, Nineteen?” He looks over his shoulder. “Bit concerning for a future healer and all. You might not make the cut.”
He shrugs with false sympathy before disappearing into the darkness beyond.
Nevermind. Gone are the thoughts of making his death a swift and easy one. Now, you’re envisioning something longer, slower, your hands around his neck—
You wonder if he begs half as prettily as he flies.
You’ve never really understood it.
The strange utopia that is Greenhouse Three. It’s always felt more like a portal to another dimension, rather than a plant nursery. But seeing it under the night sky is an otherworldly experience.
The tall domed ceiling stretches high above you, and dimmer disks fly from their assigned pots to line the narrow walkway upon your arrival.
There’s a silence about the place, but beneath it all, something living without breathing. As you walk among the taller plants lining the path, it feels like walking through a graveyard. But instead of the bones turning to dust under the earth—they’re watching.
The Nightbell Stalk lives all the way at the back of the greenhouse, in a secret locker called the Lumen Garden. You’ve never seen this garden, given the fact that it magically appears only when the moon is at its peak, and disappears again before the sun rises. Even despite the blatant breaking of curfew, you’ve been warned never to enter, given the dangerous nature of the plants one might encounter.
But, as they say, dangerous times call for desperate measures. Or, desperate times call for dangerous measures. Something like that.
All you know is it’s as desperate as it is dangerous, or you would never be so reckless.
Soon enough, the Lumen Garden door looms over you. It’s tall and black, and it sparkles in the light of the skimmer dimmers, like it’s made of crushed black diamond.
You turn to Malfoy. “Do you have it?”
He pulls an aged piece of parchment from his pocket. You reach for it but he snatches it back just in time.
“I didn’t risk my life in the Restricted Section, so you could show off your poor Mermish,” he says.
“‘Risking your life,’” you roll your eyes, unimpressed. “As if you don’t practically live there. Get on with it, then.”
He clears his throat. You try not to watch the way his fingers carefully unfold the paper, holding it like it’s something valuable. He’s always been like that when it comes to ancient scripts.
“Vaelith mora selune,” he whispers.
By moonlight reveal.
Your pulse leaps as the scrape of stone on stone reverberates throughout the silent room, bouncing off the glass panes above you.
As the stone door rolls back, it reveals a room so beautiful it nearly takes your breath away.
Opal stones guide you forward, leading to a circular pool in the center. The water lies perfectly still, glassy and undisturbed, yet the plants rooted beneath its surface sway gently in some unseen current.
Overhead, moonlight spills through the curved glass dome, and the panes are cloudy on purpose, filtering and diffusing the moonlight into something stronger and more even.
You tiptoe onto the landing, barely noting the black mossy walls surrounding you before the stone rolls shut behind you. Malfoy’s polished shoes click decisively down the opal stones, not the least bit fased.
You swallow and follow after him. Mist rises up from the pond, and when you lean closer, curiosity pulling you in, you catch sight of movement. Thin, glowing threads streak by under the glassy surface. Jilly bugs. They help the plants thrive in the lowlight conditions.
“Keep up, will you?” Draco hisses, drawing your attention to him.
He’s standing over a garden bed beyond the pond, half swallowed by the shadowed wall behind him.
These nocturnal plants only bloom at night, and they die without it. Because of this, these plants have different colors than normal ones. Most of them are varying shades of black, purple, or blue, evolved to camouflage with the night or their natural habitats.
As you step closer, the vines come into view. There are tons of them, growing along a nearly imperceptible trellis that spans the full length of the back wall, their long stems twirling and looping, spilling out across the floor and crawling up the dome above.
You’re just reaching his side when something moves out of the corner of your eye. Your head whips towards the wall, eyes narrowing through the gray haze.
But there’s nothing. Just vines, their leaves sitting so still they could almost pass as wax.
“Where’s the bloody vial…?” Draco mutters to himself, patting down the pockets of his robes.
His features catch the light as he looks down. Your eyes drift over the edge of his nose, the slope of his brow, that strong jaw. You look away when his chin tips up.
Reaching into your pocket, you retrieve the small glass bottle, holding it out for him to see.
Draco frowns. “Thief.”
You shrug, glancing down at the Nightbell Stalk in front of you.
It’s a deep violet, with small, downward-facing flowers. Inside each one, the stems glow a faint gold. You can smell the nectar from where you stand--sweet, like honey, but heavier. Thicker.
When Malfoy reaches for the vial, you snap it back in the last second.
“I’m doing it,” you say.
“Like hell you are.” He scoffs. “Just because you’re a healer doesn’t give you the right to fuck this up. It’s my project too, you know.”
Anger sparks in your gut and you turn on him. “You haven’t given a shit about this potion the entire semester, and I’m supposed to believe you actually care now? Besides, you don’t have the experience required—”
“Oh, I have the experience. Stand aside.” He reaches for the sample vial. “I can handle something as simple as—”
You snatch it back again. “Oh, so you know that the bells ring when disturbed, so you only touch the stem. Did you know that Malfoy?”
“I—yes! I know more than—”
“So, obviously, you’d be cautious around the petals, since they’re so sticky they can leave a residue on your hands for a week.” Your lips set in a taunting line and narrow your eyes at him. “But you knew that, huh?”
Draco glares down at you. “I’m well aware of the difficulties with this plant. And by the way, I suggested this plan. So, I’ll do it.”
Your argument continues, words overlapping, while your voices ring eerily loud in the silence of the greenhouse.
Push, pull, counter, strike.
You fight the same way you fly on the pitch, chasing the same goal. Competitive to a fault.
The exact fault being that while the two of you are too busy arguing over who gets to hold the stem—and where the vial goes exactly—you don’t realize one vine unfurling from the wall behind you, growing curious in the moonlight.
“My hands are steadier,” Draco says from his place over your shoulder.
You bite your lip, ignoring the way his breath ghosts across your ear, focusing your energy on getting the ingredient.
You accidentally graze the edge of the downward-turned petal with the rim of the glass and the flowers on the Nightbell Stalk ring softly.
“Shit,” you mutter.
“You know it’s true,” he continues, voice low. “How many times have you lost the Snitch because of your poor grip, hmm? I haven’t. Not once.”
With one sharp movement of your fingers, you scoop up the drop of nectar from the stems inside. It slides down the glass, glowing a deep orange. Satisfaction curls warm under your ribs like your feline familiar back in your dorm room.
You grin. “Got it.”
Reveling in your win, you turn, ready to shove your success in his face, but the movement only presses your back further into his chest.
“Move, would you?” You bite, trying to slide around him, but the tight space doesn’t allow for much wiggle room.
He shifts to let you through, but the narrow corridor between the wall and the garden bed seems to get tighter with his body pressed against yours. Somewhere, your feet get tangled and he stumbles, sprawling back against the garden bed, which pushes you flat against the ivy wall, glaring up at him.
His head blocks the moonlight, his silhouette falling over you like a living shadow. His lips part like he might say something, and you find yourself leaning forward, waiting breathlessly, when something brushes your ankle.
You leap forward. Draco’s arm wraps around you out of instinct. The two of you stare at each other before he seems to remember who you are and drop his arm like you’ve burned him.
“Throwing yourself at me, are you?” He drawls, breaking the silent tension.
“No!” You look down at the ground, but there’s nothing there. Just mossy stone under your feet, the shadow of the vine wall at your heels. “Something just…grabbed me.”
Draco shakes his head and shoves past you. “It’s always drama with you, isn’t it?”
“I’m serious!” you snap. “It almost tripped me!”
“Ah, yes. Do me a favor and twist that pretty little ankle would you? Just secure me a win next match, thanks.”
His words make you pause, forgetting all about the mysterious touch. A smile steals across your face before you can stop it. “So, you admit I need to be taken out for you to have a shot at the Cup, then?”
He spins on the spot, a shadow etched between his brows as he scowls at you under the moonlight. “You’re twisting my words.”
“I am not! Merlin, Malfoy, do you ever just shut up—” Something brushes your shoulder. You freeze. “What was that?”
To your surprise, Draco actually shuts his mouth to listen. There’s nothing. No frogs, no crickets, no owl, no water dripping, no jilly bugs splashing in the pond.
It’s…silent.
Suddenly, something moves above you. Both your gazes jerk up at the same time. A leafy vine—so green it’s almost black—drops down from the wall and brushes Draco’s hair.
He flinches, and as the light catches on the small, glass-like beads growing between the leaves, your stomach drops.
You know exactly what that is.
The Veleroux Vine. Some call it Sirenlace. But it’s best known for another name.
Sex pollen.
You recognize it from your studies. The pollen pods contain a powerful aphrodisiac, said to heighten biological desire to mate in extreme ways. The more you resist, the worse the fever gets, making you wild with lust.
“Draco—don’t touch—” You throw a hand out to stop him.
But it’s too late.
Malfoy rears back and slaps the invading greenery away like he’s swatting a fly.
Shit.
“Dammit, Malfoy, what did I say about not touching anything?” You shriek, surging forward and shoving at his chest. “Get away from th—”
The first bead snaps open in a plume of dust. Fear rushes through your limbs and you try to jerk the both of you away, but you’re not quick enough.
One after another, the pollen pods pop in sequence, traveling down the vine, dusting your hair, your robes, and filling the air.
You jerk back, furiously rubbing at your skin, but it’s no use. It settles on you like a thin glitter, small enough to even to slip into your pores.
“Oh, shit. Fucking—fuck. Fuck!” you holler, but you shouldn’t have opened your mouth. Now the back of your throat feels like when you stuck your head in the sugar jar as a kid.
Draco sends you a withering look, brushing down his robes. “Calm down, will you? Bloody hell—just a little plant dust.”
“Just a plant—” You scoff, throwing your hands up in the air. “Merlin help me, you can’t just fucking listen for one second. I know what I’m talking about! Hurry! We have to get out of here before it—”
The vine slips around your shoulder at the very same moment Draco glances down to find another one winding around his ankle.
“—grabs us,” you finish weakly.
You try to scramble away, but the leaves thread around your arm in a silky vice.
Draco curses loudly at the thing, hopping on one foot, losing his robes in the process of trying to extricate himself.
“You have the wrong…pair,” you tell the inky leaves while you fumble for your wand. “We aren’t—we can’t…do what you want.”
“It wants something?” Draco casts a disbelieving look at the vine now wrapped around his dark slacks, settling around his knee. “Merlin—what?”
“It wants us to have sex,” you say, matter-of-factly.
He looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. Then his gaze darkens, snagging on the way your hard nipples strain against your shirt.
Already? This shit works fast. You finally free your wand and cross your arms over your chest.
“Sex?” he sneers.
“Yes. It’s an aphrodisiac plant, native to rare jungles. Its job is to encourage mating between compatible species.”
“Compatible.” He scoffs. “You and me? Farthest thing from it.”
“It doesn’t know that..." You gasp as your wand is whisked out of your hands by a particularly strong leaf.
“Talk to it again. Tell it!” Draco shouts. He looks down and shakes his leg violently. The vine doesn’t budge. “Shit—just get it off me!”
Whispers of leaves dragging against stone make you turn to face the corner of the room behind you. A cluster of vines has begun to twist together, the husky hush of plants twining and looping filling the air. Vines slide across the floor, retracting into the dark corner, while more gather from the ceiling, shifting the beams of moonlight through the dusty air.
You inhale sharply. “Oh no.”
Draco curses somewhere behind you. “What now?”
“It’s building its nest,” you reply, eyes on the plant.
“It’s…what?”
You turn to see Draco fighting tooth and nail. He’s got his wand out now. Streaks of light bounce across the room, flames erupt in the air but they bounce off the leaves like they’re nothing but a few stray sparks. Across the room, past the pool, some of the other plants wither and shrink away from the light.
Adrenaline surges through you as your mind scrambles for a solution. You’re already beginning to feel it, a tugging deep in your core.
That familiar tight ache that blooms in the dark, alone, in your bed. But unlike then, right now, you can’t give into it. You try not think about how the longer you resist, the worse it will get. From your brief research, sex pollen isn’t fatal, but it certainly isn’t pleasant.
Unless you give in.
Then, of course, it’s rumored to be the best sex of your entire life.
You don’t have the luxury of finding that out.
There is an antidote, of course, but it is completely and totally, one-hundred percent, without a doubt—out of the question.
Sex with Malfoy? Not happening.
There’s only one answer. You have to escape.
Your gaze swings to the stone door, framed in elegant iron bars that allow climbers to reach moonlight.
Maybe if you could get out of the vine’s reach, it wouldn’t be able to chase you.
It only takes a second to form a plan.
Tipping back, you let your weight fall backwards into the vine, hoping to catch it off guard and force it to loosen its hold. Instead, you trip over a stray pot and go tumbling to the ground.
But before you hit the stone, the Veleroux is there.
Your breath catches, heart pounding, suspended in the air. Then the vine pushes gently into your lower back, guiding you forward util your feet find solid ground again. You stare, openmouthed, as the leaves brush along your leg, almost as if checking for injury, before nudging you toward the corner of the room.
“Oh, Merlin. Yes, I see your nest,” you say weakly, watching as the vine curls in on itself to form a sort of ball—more of a fist, really—and uses it to push softly against the heels of your shoes, urging you forward. It uncurls when you take a step, leaves fluttering as if pleased. Then it spins in the air, gesturing as if to say, look, I made this for you. A cozy, safe place to mate. “Very nice. Lovely, really. But you see, we can’t—”
“Blimey! Get back!” Draco’s voice interrupts your one-sided conversation.
You look over your shoulder, wobbling a bit as the plant continues to nudge you towards the silky hammock in the corner. He’s covered in vines, now. His wand has fallen somewhere off to the side, out of both your reach. He’s still flailing, hair mussed, trying and—failing— to break free.
You look down. The vine’s not even holding onto you anymore. Is it because you’re not fighting as hard?
You take a step towards the door. Nothing happens. You take another, and the vine edges closer. On the third, it finds your ankle again. But it doesn’t squeeze you or cinch tight enough to sting. It just curls softly around your leg, firm enough to stop you from running, but gentle enough that you start to suspect it doesn’t want you damaged.
Malfoy, on the other hand, looks almost black and blue.
“Stop!” You call. “The harder you fight, the tighter it tries to hold you. Just—watch. Walk towards me.”
“You’re insane. You know that?” he spits. But his eyes catch on your vineless body anyway.
“Trust me, Malfoy.”
That’s a phrase you never imagined yourself saying to him.
“It doesn’t want to hurt us,” you whisper. “I don’t think.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not good enough for me.”
Despite his words, Draco takes one step towards you. The vine’s hold loosens. Another step and it slips from his chest entirely.
“See?” you say, encouraged. “It’s biological nature is to keep its prey alive and well. It can’t force us to mate. It just…heavily suggests it.”
“Of course it doesn’t force it,” Draco sneers. “A plant can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.” But even as the words leave his lips, his eyes drop to the edge of your skirt. The hem suddenly feels six inches shorter, though you know it hasn’t shrunk.
Draco moves closer and the vines start to retreat, but he keeps a wary eye on them until they disappear into the Nest.
He glares at it, then at you. “What is that?”
“It’s a hammock,” you answer, eyes darting around for another escape route. “The vine thinks it will make us more comfortable. Since it’s not all over us anymore, I say we try to appease it. Just a little.”
“Appease it?” He gasps. “You want to—I can’t believe this. That—” he gestures towards the jumble of vines. “Could be a swan down comforter with silk sheets. I don’t care, I’m not going near it.”
You roll your eyes. “Merlin, you don’t listen. I’m not saying we go in the Nest. I’m saying we just…pretend. Then we can make a run for it.”
He doesn’t look convinced, so you turn to face him. “This plant spreads pollen to encourage mating, right? But how does it know when it’s worked? It’s not aware like we are.”
His eyes narrow. “Your point?”
“My point is…it’s pheromones, right? With our heightened hormones right now, we might be able to trick it into thinking we're on board, and it will let it's guard down.” Your stomach swoops with the words about to leave your tongue. “So maybe if you—if we—”
Draco’s eyes snap to yours. “If we what?”
His tongue swipes over his lower lip, leaving it glistening in the moonlight.
Stupid fucking pollen.
You swallow hard. “I think we should kiss.”
A beat of silence passes, the only sound your heartbeat kicking up, drumming in your ears.
“Fine,” he agrees.
That surprises you. You thought he’d gag at the very idea.
It must be the pollen, overriding his blatant hate for you and digging into his more urgent needs.
A shiver rolls down your spine at what those needs of his might be. You’re feeling it too, of course. The effect of being so close to him.
It’s only biological. To be drawn to a specimen of the opposite sex.
And why not Draco? He’s tall, healthy, miles of lean muscle. He smells good, and he’s not bad to look at. Especially when his eyes do that—flashing over at you thing, while his mouth quirks into a crooked smirk…
No other reason. Right?
You don’t have time to debate this, however, because Draco’s moving.
You’re vaguely aware of the vine brushing your ankle, keeping you steady as he crowds your space, and then—
Your lips meet his.
Your breath catches at the warmth you weren’t expecting. And that warmth…blooms. Your lashes fall shut as your whole body seems to sigh at the touch, like he’s the cure to the dull ache in your limbs, the antidote to the burning in your core. Just a gentle caress turns the sharp heat into a molten lava that invades your bloodstream.
He groans softly into your mouth, and the sound alone makes you gasp. Next thing you know, you’re pressed against his chest. Whether by his arms around you, or your own feet carrying you, or the stupid fucking vine playing matchmaker, all you know is he smells like green apples and teakwood. Cold luxury, but with a hint of…home.
At the first taste of his tongue, your stomach swoops dangerously. As he slants his mouth further, exploring, kissing you deeper, your heart feels like it’s beating as fast as a Snitch’s wings.
Your hands find his hair. It’s soft as silk between your fingers. A whimper escapes him and he breaks the kiss, head dropping back instinctively.
You watch through half-lidded eyes, taking in the way his wet lips gleam in the moonlight, blond lashes fluttering.
Merlin, he’s gorgeous.
His throat bobs on a swallow, and before you know it, your mouth is on his neck. He lets out a choked sound, something between a gasp and a groan, before jerking suddenly in your hold.
You stumble away, already missing the heat of his hands, lips buzzing like you’ve just downed a shot of fire-whiskey.
It’s him, you realize. He’s your drug. And when he lurches backward, breathing hard, you feel as if he’s just taken your last fix.
His eyes stay pinned on you as he retreats. The vine stops him with a gentle pressure at his back, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He lets it guide him toward the nest, stopping just beside it, his back hitting the wall.
You scramble back until your heels knock into the stone wall opposite him. The Nest sits between you, off to the right, tucked in the dark corner of the room.
“Brilliant plan,” he grits out. “Bloody brilliant.”
And you’re back to square one.
“Ah!” Draco shouts, pointing at his wand lying on the ground between you. “You crossed the boundary.”
“I did not!” you snap at him, eyes flashing. “I was just adjusting. My foot kicked it accidentally—shit—would you just shut up? Your voice makes it worse.”
Over the last several minutes, you and Draco have tried everything under the sun to escape. The farthest you ever made it was all of ten feet. You did manage to retrieve Draco’s wand, though. Which then started the slew of fire spells, sharp object summoning charms, and so on. An earthquake hex was threatened, but that could’ve brought the whole school down, so you couldn’t risk that.
Although it was considered for one brief—and selfish—moment.
But none of it did a thing.
Turns out, this plant has some sort of magical resistance. It’s so bad that he couldn’t even make a force field or proper line divider between you, so he placed his wand there instead.
You’ve slowly slid down into a heap on the floor, attempting to make yourself smaller, as if that might ease the ache building deep in your core. It’s relentless, hot and gnawing, and you know it’s only going to get worse if you don’t come up with another plan soon.
Draco’s sitting now too, half draped in shadow. His arms crossed over his crisp white button-down, and he’s still glaring at you as if this is all your fault. The one knee strategically placed in front of his groan is the only sign you’ve gotten that the pollen is effecting him at all.
Bastard.
His tie is loose though, and his hair is tousled. Like it always is after a match. There’s no wind in here though, just the whisper of leaves and the steady drip of water.
No. Your hands are the only thing to blame for that.
Shit.
Now all you can think about is how soft his hair felt, how easily your fingers sank into it, and all the ways you could drag him closer by it, yanking his hot, wet mouth to your—
“What did I tell you about thinking those things?” Draco says. You peek up to see his head hit the wall, eyes sliding shut.
“I’m not thinking anything—”
“Stop lying, Nineteen.” His nostrils flare, and his eyes snap open. Somehow, his pupils have grown even larger. “You're so wet I can practically taste it from here.”
Merlin. Your thighs press together instinctively.
“I’m not thinking anything that has to do with you,” you snap. “Except how much I hate you. How much I despise your face, how much I want to steal that Snitch from you every damn day, and how if I had to be here, I would rather it be anyone else other than you!”
Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. But the way he looks at you makes your pulse spike all over again.
“Is that right?”
His cheeks are flushed, the same way they are when he’s hot on the Snitch’s trail. Your slick walls flutter at the sight. You’ve always thought he looked good like that. All sweaty and warm, hair stuck to his forehead, eyes bright with a fire that matches yours.
Not that you would ever tell him, of course.
“Who would you want instead?” he rasps. “Montague? Flint? I see the way you look at them on the pitch.” He looks away for a second and drags his knuckles across his lips before his gaze snaps back to yours. “Lucky for you, you’re trapped here with someone who can show a little restraint.”
You bark out a laugh. “You think you’re the only one here with restraint? Take one step toward me, Malfoy, and I swear I’ll hex you.”
He grunts. “You don’t have a wand.”
Your head tips back with a quiet groan, your clit aching to be touched. You make another weak attempt to get away, but the vine catches you.
It doesn’t snap, claw, or hold you against your will. Rather it settles around your shoulders, brushing a waxy leaf along your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear before retreating again, as if to say, Stop fighting. Just look at him. Don’t you want to?
And somehow, that’s worse.
Because you do.
Badly.
You find yourself looking at his hands. Your gaze drifts over the curve of his palms, the long lines of his fingers, the tension there, the veins, the control he’s barely holding onto and—you’re salivating.
Snap out of it.
“It’s so hot in here, f-fuck,” you whine, pawing at the collar of your shirt.
Draco eyes lock on you fingers. “Take that off and I swear—don’t.”
But your tie feels like it’s choking you, and your pulse booms in your ears. Your fingers keep loosening it. Draco curses.
You whimper. “That’s not fair, you took yours off!”
“Stop talking. Merlin, just—” he cuts himself off with a rough breath, his large palm grinding down into his erection beneath his slacks. “Shut up.”
You try to stay quiet. You really do.
But every shift of your body sends heat spiraling lower, making it harder to think. Every brush of your thighs squeezes your swollen clit, and has you gasping into the wall behind you.
Draco’s breathing is uneven now, too, echoing faintly off the stone. He hasn’t been able to keep his hand off his dick, still hidden under his clothes.
Not that you’ve been watching.
“I think—‘ you swallow. “I think I have a plan.”
Draco moans. “Fine. Enlighten me.”
“Remember what I said about the pheromones?” You manage. “It’s clear kissing wa—shit—wasn’t enough. Maybe…” Your eyes drop to his erection.
“No.”
“Draco, we’re going to have to touch ourselves. It’s the only way.”
You expect him to be glaring at you, but when you look up, his eyes are on your legs—that bare skin between your shoe and your skirt.
“Fine.” His throat bobs on a swallow. “You first.”
You barely have time to debate the ramifications of your actions. Your body burns, thick pressure building low and sharp.
You slip your hand under your skirt, straight under your panties. You inhale shakily, trying to steady yourself, but when your fingers meet a slickness like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the breath leaves your lungs.
The sound of of your wetness fills the silence between you and Draco makes a low, strained sound.
You glance over at him and immediately wish you hadn’t.
He’s taken his cock out, and he’s stroking it from base to tip. It’s long. Thick enough to fill up his palm, and veiny. The tip is darker than the rest, and you just know, if you were to take him in your mouth and suck—you’d feel his heartbeat against your tongue.
His jaw is tight, eyes half-lidded, like he tried to close them but his body won’t let him. When he sighs and bucks his hips into his own fist your mouth runs dry.
Whatever cavern of distance used to exist between you is crumbling now. It’s being burned away. There’s no space for it in this heat, this constant pull towards each other. Your skirt rides higher up on your thighs, and the cool air brushes your wet inner thighs.
After a minute, the relief starts to fade. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus. But your body won’t cooperate. Your hips jerk back from your own touch, your clit bordering on overstimulation. You frown, plunging two fingers inside yourself to rub the ache away. But they feel like cold pencils in your pulsing channel.
The heat drags through your veins like hot cotton, begging for a deep release. But every brush of your arms against the cold stone behind you makes your elbows start to itch, and your very skin start to feel like a husk.
You need water. No—not water.
You need him.
It’s almost as if your body is punishing you for doing it to yourself.
“It’s not w-working,” you whimper, helpless.
Draco groans, his frustration evident in the bulging vein in his neck. His cock looks so angry in the dim light. He bites his lip in determination, and you watch his fist grip tighter. He only gets to three more strokes before he’s hissing with discomfort.
“There’s got to be another way,” he rasps, his hand dropping away.
You huff, so needy you’re almost on the verge of tears. “I’m thinking!”
“Well, think harder.”
You glare at him, dimly aware of how on display you are right now. Legs open and spread towards him, skirt barely concealing the way your fingers move against yourself. “Maybe I could if you could just shut your mouth for one damn second!”
His voice is not helping. All low and deep, with a hint of a rasp curling around his accent, making your belly tighten.
In fact, none of this is helping. Silence fills the space between you, only broken by uneven breathing and the quiet rustle of the Nest.
When his eyes drop to your dripping cunt and you don’t even have the decency to close your legs, it’s like the pollen has overridden your higher thinking. Your knees widen instinctively, begging for him to look. To touch…
Your composure slips further. And when he licks his lips, your lips actually part in preparation to ask for him.
Merlin, if this keeps up much longer, you’re not above begging if that what it takes. And begging Draco Malfoy for anything is beyond the lowest you’d ever thought you’d go.
You work yourself harder, but your fingertips feel like sandpaper against your soft folds, even as your arousal continues to leak steadily from you, your pussy desperate to be filled.
But that feels impossible.
A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you’re helpless to stop it. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your face away from him, still chasing any kind of relief, begging for it to feel like something worth grabbing onto.
Somewhere, distantly, you think Draco might be saying something, but you’re not sure what. Your body’s honed in on the vibrations of his voice, the way he smells—
“Nineteen.”
Hearing your nickname snaps you back to reality.
You open your mouth to answer him, but no words come out. Little gasps punch out of your parted lips, hips twisting and writhing, searching for friction. For heat. For him.
“Tell me,” he says firmly.
You turn your head. You can barely see him, your eyes refusing to open more than a sliver. He’s leaning forward now, one knee planted on the ground.
“W-what?” you rasp.
“Your plan—the pheromones—shit.” Then, quieter, he adds. “Tell me how to make it stop hurting you.”
Your eyes snap to his. He’s watching you with that sharp focus you’ve always admired about him. The look that says nothing is getting in the way of what he wants.
You’re not sure exactly what makes him give in.
Maybe it’s the way your breaths come in soft pants that make the rise and fall of your breasts visible beneath your loosened tie. Maybe it’s the way your eyes drop to his lips, his neck, your tongue running over your teeth like you’re imagining how he tastes. It might be the ways your hips slant forward, knees falling open, your body begging even if you don’t have the words to.
But he must see it.
Because, he just says, “Fuck.”
His shoulders catch the moonlight as he shrugs out of his shirt in one smooth motion. Lines of lean muscle come into view, and you feel as if you’ve been presented with a feast after almost starving to death.
Malfoy’s always had a very determined walk. A powerful stride, one that commands attention. You’ve seen in in the halls, backed by his loyal little following. You’ve watched him stride towards the Quidditch cup, shoulders back, chest high.
But right now—he’s not walking.
He’s crawling.
Towards you.
“Close your eyes. If it helps,” he says before his hand meets your ankle and he’s bowing in front of you.
Something deep in your mind catches on those words, but he’s yanking your panties the rest of the way down your legs, and the heat of his mouth against your core whisks your thoughts away.
The second his tongue finds your clit you can’t help but cry out. Your head tips back against the stone, the relief so immediate it’s almost staggering. Draco attacks you with warm, lascivious licks that aren’t meant to soothe, despite his words. They’re meant to claim.
Your hands dig into the mossy floor beneath you, arching your hips up for him. His strong, hot tongue parts your folds like it’s his life’s work. The view of his back muscles shifting and stretching in the moonlight as he makes out with your pussy is so seductive to you it’s nearly frightening.
In fact, it is.
Frightening.
“I hate you,” you grit out, not even entirely sure where it came from. Just a need to set things back in order, even as he’s unraveling you.
He groans against your clit, the vibration licking up your spine.
“Say it again.”
You gasp, caught between resisting and wanting more, even as your pelvis shoves forward and you grind into him like you’re in heat. His tongue dives lower and when his nose nudges your clit, you nearly scream. Your orgasm rises like something sharp. It’s so powerful of a burn, of an ache, you find yourself scrambling backwards in an attempt to get away from the promise of such delirious pleasure.
Merlin, you need it. More than you’ve ever needed anything in your entire fucking life—
It scares you how much.
But Draco just hums against the pulls on his hair and follows you anyway, scuffling forward on the stone ground, gripping your hips and spearing his tongue deep inside you.
“Malfoy, I’m gonna—oh, fuckkk—”
“That’s it,” he says, and the sound of him quietly speaking against your slick folds nearly does you in. “Scream my name, Nineteen. N-need—fuck—wanna hear you say it like that.”
The soft rasp of his voice, and the two long fingers being pushed inside you send you straight over the edge.
The release pulls you under in waves. Dark, pulsing tidal waves that drive deep through your pelvis, erasing through your body until the pleasure nearly blinds you. You feel yourself going rigid in his hands, thighs trembling against his soft hair, but he just hauls you through it, like a lighthouse in a storm. Strong, steady, and never stopping until you’re jolting and gasping, crying out in relief.
But the second your orgasm fades, the heat rushes in again. The fever. It’s back, and with vengeance this time.
Sweat beads your forehead and your vision swims, but you look up just in time to see Malfoy scramble backwards like you burned him.
You frown. “Dra—what?”
He throws a hand out, pressing himself against the opposite wall. “Don’t come closer.”
A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. The heat is different now. Instead of feeling like a thread about to snap, your body has narrowed down to one singular need.
Breed.
Your fingers fly to your shirt without you telling them to, unbuttoning your shirt with ease. You feel the way your breasts move with your harsh breaths, but your gaze is locked on him. And when you drop down to all fours and slink forward, Draco looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.
“Merlin—I can’t.” he chokes out. “I can’t even think about it.”
Your gut feels like it’s been punched. Is he so disgusted by the thought that he can’t even look at you?
Does he truly not want you? Was that some sort of…pity—
You can’t even finish that thought.
You slink backwards until you’re half in shadow. He must see the look on your face because his head falls back against the wall on a groan. You can smell his sweat in the air and it’s making you downright feral even though you can barely look at him from embarrasement.
“I can’t think about it, because if I do, then I’ll do it,” he says. “And if I do it…I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
Control. That’s always been Malfoy’s vice, hasn’t it?
This situation is probably his worst nightmare.
Not for the first time, something plucks on your heart strings deep under your ribs. He’s scared of losing it? You can give it back to him.
Slowly, and with deliberate care, you cross the boundary. The wand clatters somewhere to the side. Draco watches as you crawl to him, his eyes raking over you, a mixture of pain and hunger in his eyes.
You can only imagine what you look like.
Hair mussed, left in just a lace bra and soaked panties, your skirt hanging loose on your hips.
“Then don’t,” you murmur.
Your voice is so quiet in the stillness, but it spears through him all the same. Your gazes click together like magnets.
He shakes his head, chest heaving. “You don’t mean that. It’s just the fucking plant dust—”
He stops short when your hands settle on his knees, gently forcing them apart to make room for yourself. Your breath catches when you drop your gaze to see his cock sitting heavy and hard against his lower stomach. It twitches under your watchful gaze and your mouth waters.
Carefully, you settle into his lap.
He exhales sharply, and his hands find your soft skin, undoing your bra before you can even blink. Testament to a lot of practice, you’re sure.
You don’t have the strength to be self-conscious. You just need him. Now. Even so, somewhere through the lust-filled haze, you remember his words.
“The plant just lowers—” your breath hitches as his teeth find the soft skin of your neck. “—your inhibitions. It can’t make you fuck someone you don’t…w-want.”
“How do you know so much about this?” he groans into your hair. “Why are you so—”
“What? So smart?”
“You wish.”
The words barely brush your ear before you lean back to get a better look at him. You’ve barely straightened by the time his mouth is on your tits.
You cry out as he swirls his hot, greedy tongue around your nipples, sucking on the hard buds until you’re panting. Your clit swells and you bite your lip, threading your fingers through his hair. The first rock of your hips has you both groaning.
You grind down on him again and you nearly black out at the feeling of his bare length sliding through your slick folds. You reach between you to tug his slacks down further. His balls are heavy in your hand, and he grunts, shoving himself up into you.
“Merlin—I can’t—” he chokes out, mouth leaving your tits as his palms fly up and dig into his eye sockets.
Without thinking, you lean forward and kiss his fingers one by one. His bare chest stutters against yours at the softness of it, and when you slip his thumb into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it eagerly, he drops his hands.
You look down to find him staring up at you with a familiar expression. You make that face. When you're seconds away from catching the Snitch.
You swear you can feel every vein in his dick, so hot and hard against you as you grind your slick cunt against him. It’s instinct to drop your head and search for his mouth with yours, but you pull back at the last second. That last thread of lucidity coming back to haunt you.
This is your rival.
For a second you just breathe each other in, mouths parted, groaning and writhing into the other, but when the blunt head of his cock catches on your entrance, your hips react on their own—circling, pelvis arching, body begging in a primal, secret language you don’t fully understand.
And he moves with you—meeting you there with the deep urges of his own.
His hips don’t snap into you, brutal and deep. Instead, they slide. Back and forth. His hands clamp onto your hips, holding you still in his lap as he eases the tip in and out, letting your slick coat him until you’re ready to take the whole thing.
The way his body moves speaks to something primal and powerful in you. How his sweaty muscles bunch and tense, and his hands dig into your skin at your hips, your thighs, your waist— it’s better than anything you could’ve imagined.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” he growls into your ear.
You nod frantically, clenching around him.
In one long thrust, Draco fills you up. The stretch is breathtaking. Literally. He’s so long that his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, sending you mewing and clawing at his hair, his shoulders, just to stay afloat through the pleasure.
He’s not fairing much better.
He’s growling and moaning, his cock jerking desperately in your slick walls as he pulls back just far enough to yank your hips back down to meet his.
Sounds spill out of you. They might be words, you’re not sure. But the next thing you know, cold stone meets your back, and Draco’s warm body is spread out over you. His thrusts grow heavier and deeper. You can feel the way your body tries to hold onto him, clenching and fluttering desperately, even as your arousal makes it easy for him to slide so deep.
You’ve never been this wet in your life. And now, you’re wondering, if it’s from the pollen, or if it’s just from him. Because you’ve never had sex this good, and that’s saying something.
Your bodies just…move together. Like they’re one of a kind puzzle pieces meant to fit. The give and take is so instinctual it’s almost unbearable how good it is.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” Draco pants, a lock of hair falling over his sweaty brow. “Knew you would.”
You throw your head back, your ankle finding solace in his lower back, sealing him to you and begging for more. Your body gives into the heat, the pleasure cresting and pulling you into something dangerously strong. So strong you’re worried your body might not survive it.
“So pretty on the pitch,” he groans, seemingly unable to stop from talking. “Merlin, I just—I lose the bloody Snitch every time you look at me.”
That does it.
Your orgasm rushes through your body like lightning. Your spine snaps straight, muscles clenching down with a pulse you feel everywhere. A moan leaves your chest, so loud you’ve probably woken the whole damn castle, but you’re too gone to care.
Draco makes a rough sound against the skin of your neck. “Holy—fuck, I’m gonna—where should I—”
“Inside,” you gasp. “Please. Please, Draco. I need it. P-please—”
“Ah, fuck—” His mouth seals against your throat, nose brushing the pulse point below your ear. “Need you.”
He jerks hard, once, twice, and then he’s spilling inside you. Your body seems to understand, back arching, pulling him deeper with your ankle as he stills and lets out a groan that curls low in your belly, and will certainly live on in every wet dream you have from here on out.
The fever fades like a receding tide. You blink, slowly coming back to yourself. Your clit is throbbing, and your pulse is still hammering, but strangely you feel...lighter somehow.
Like maybe the last few years of tension between you and your rival finally needed to snap.
You turn to him. He’s on his knees, breathing hard, buttoning up his pants. He looks up at you, and something in his eyes softens.
“What did you mean?” You find yourself asking. “When you told me to close my eyes earlier?”
He shrugs, reaching for his shirt.
“Well, you said you’d rather be here with anyone else. I just—” he looks away, suddenly seeming very interested in the way the Nest is unraveling like it did its job, and the stray vine that’s currently retrieving his wand for him.
You don’t let him finish.
You lurch forward and grab his face, pulling his lips to yours.
This time, he doesn’t hesitate a second before meeting your mouth. He kisses you back, long and hard, digging his fingers through your hair to pull you closer. You exhale into it, something long unsaid passing between you. But it’s not enough. You still need to say the words.
So, you break the kiss first. He blinks down at you, eyes dark, hair mussed.
“I only think about you, Malfoy,” you whisper in the shared air between you. “On or off the pitch, it’s only you.”
He leans down and brushes his lips across yours. “I still hate you, Nineteen.”
You reward him by deepening the kiss. He answers it, slower this time, but no less intense. When he finally pulls back, you’re already smiling.
your popular ex-boyfriend begs you to get back w/him
the doorbell rung - sharp, tinkling melody breaking through your hazy thoughts. sighing, you got up from your seat at the dining table and walked over to the door. your house was dark, the only light in the room emanating from your glaring laptop screen.
removing the chain from the latch, you swung the door open, and in doing so, felt a heavy weight drop to the pit of your stomach at the sight in front.
him.
he stood in front of you, hand grasping a bouquet of dusty pink roses, beads of sweat on his anxious face mirroring the dewdrops-laden petals. he was biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed.
a plethora of questions rose in you, but you pushed them down. swallowing, you asked in the firmest voice you could manage, "what do you want?"
"i want to apologise", his strained voice came back, delicate eyes searching your face like you were fresh water placed in front of a parched man.
"i told you, i don't want to hear it."
he flinched at your words, fingers wrapped around the bouquet becoming tighter. a flash of annoyance passed through you.
"didn't i make it obvious when i left your stupid paragraphs on read?", you asked him with narrowed eyes.
"i know my place, baby. it's with you," he whispered immediately, as if reciting a script. his eyes bore into yours, almost pleading.
"don't call me baby," you snarled.
a beat of silence passed. his chest rose up and down, panting. he never broke eye contact for a minute.
"i'm not above begging."
"i know, you're pathetic."
before you could finish, his knees had hit the ground.
Frat , Inexperienced , Broken Nose , Smut , College ˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀
Synopsis: When Nolan allows Mark to do college, he gets into a frat , and gets into some trouble ! Mark Grayson head-canons
Word Count: 934
Note: This is nott proof read.. but dawg.. MARK GRAYSON GOT ME FEELIN SOME TYPE OF WAY TONIGHT EVEN THO I GOT THE FLU RN. anyway thank you to whoever reads ! might be making a oneshot soon after i make the first chapter of my ticci toby fanfic ꪆৎ
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
He is one of the finest men in the frat. At the parties, it was like he was another person. In classes, though, he was more focused—I mean, he tried his best, but he was very dedicated to getting his education. This was, in fact, his only chance; his dad begrudgingly let him attend, just as long as he was able to balance that life with his hero's life. And so, he did.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
He made friends due to his charms. This also got him lucky enough to get pushed into joining a fraternity by the start of the semester. There were, of course, some fuck-ups. Sometimes he was late, and he couldn't keep his face from being mangled.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
What really sealed the deal was how fun he was. He didn’t attend the parties a lot, due to fighting villains or staying in his room with the door locked to heal, but when he came, he partied hard and never got tired. Combined with his good looks and how he partied, of course, people looking for romance flocked to him, and so… he went on dates. Maybe a lot of dates.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
who had trouble turning down people's feelings, so he went on those dates. But unfortunately, his carefree attitude went out the window when it was just one-on-one with him. He was awkward.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
who you meet in class. You guys have done a couple of group projects together; sweet as could be and handsome too. Sometimes he gets behind on assignments, and you sit next to him, so he asks you for help.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
Who became friends with you, and you guys were innocently hanging out in your dorm to study and help each other out with projects? He was starting to crush on you.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
And when you finally begin to have a crush on him… His name began to be thrown around the campus for the wrong reasons. Even your friend told you to stay away from Mark Grayson, and you didn’t believe it at all. I mean… that nerdy guy?
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
Who learned from William, it’s known that ‘Mark Grayson likes to go on many dates with different girls,' a rumor that he’s a player even though it was completely false. Awkward… shy Mark Grayson, who can’t hold a conversation with a person he finds mildly attractive, is a player?
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
He goes to you quickly, telling you that it’s all a lie. He’d be damned if some rumor ruins his love life. Trust and believe he had his Japanese cheesecake on standby to sweeten the confession.
“Please! Everything they said about me is a lie!” Mark pleaded with you before he continued.
“I-I want to go out with you; I want to be with you. I want to treat you well… if you’d let me.”
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
You guys have recently gotten into a relationship now, and he’s the sweetest… he just disappears a lot. You know he has gatherings for his club to go to and probably something else you weren’t aware of.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
Maybe you got a little angry at him, and then it turned into him pulling down your panties and riding his face into the mattress…
"I'm sorry… s-so sorry.” He breathlessly stuttered out under your sopping cunt, the pink muscle swiping away. Mark was doing everything in his power to give you pleasure after making you upset with his absence. Drowning in the hot juices of your hole, while trying not to completely hurt you with his enhanced strength.
He traced his free hand up your body, playing with your pebbled nipples, emerging ragged breathing from you; he found it so hot. "P-please forgive me, angel.” Every time he talked, his voice sent euphoric vibrations throughout your body. God it was otherworldly. You needed this reliever.
“Y-You can’t just expect me to forgive you easily, M-Mark Grayson,” betraying your own words as you were fucking yourself roughly on his mouth. He came in his pants at the sight. You barely needed to do anything.
“Don’t you l-love me?” He asked, pleading for an answer even though he was nestled underneath your thighs, his face shiny red and puffy with a filthy mixture of your slick and his own spit.
"Mark," you scold, gaining a small whimper out of him.
He kissed your slit delicately, before finally latched onto your pearl, giving it full attention and sucking it like he was hungry. As if your pussy was a spile leaking out sweet nectar, and he was a thirsty man wanting that thick syrup. “Cum in my mouth, please.” Trying to send commands to your clit as if it were a voice-controlled robot.
This was going to be a long night.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
Who got so pussy-whipped that he begs to eat it anywhere. Shit, even at the frat house he had half a mind just to eat it on the kitchen counter. Fuck it, even on the floor. Maybe he secretly loved the praise and the way you’d moan loudly—like a scream—when he learned how to use his tongue and fingers.
Sometimes even when his nose is broken, he wants you to still sit on it.
“Sit on my nose; it won’t hurt.” He muttered to you, his face half beaten from God knows what. And the only thing he’s concerned about is giving you pleasure for being late today.
Frat boy Mark Grayson!
Who worships the ground you walk on and loves you? He feels safe with you, and nobody else could grant him such happiness.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Shoko x Reader, Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, hybrids AU, rúts, heats, bonding bites, coIIars (for Ino and Nanami), use of ‘good boy’, chokíng, making you cry, rough s, cervíx smooching, NEEDY men, stopping you from running, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, lil’ surprise for Higuruma, DP, pIot, SHOKOOO cameo, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, p talking p sIapping, Gojo’s FÉRAL, bIindfolds, law professor!Higuruma, marathons, overstím, making him WHlMPER, needy JJK men, squírting, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. HAPPY (belated?) LESBlAN VISlBlLITY WEEK!! Mwahahah yk I had to write ab my favorite girl too…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - WOLF!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus
Toji’s prolonged canines sink into the side of your neck.
Your mouth drops open in a soundless scream, and your thighs are quiverin’ where his were pressed against them. From behind, the wolf hybrid was practically pinning you down using his weight - using even the heft of his abdomen.
The firm sculpture of his v-line pushed against your behind. The entire length of him pistoning inside at a dizzying pace.
Abs against your back. Pecs near your shoulders.
Head dipped into the crook of your neck- panting between every clench of your walls. It seems that the harder he was driving his hips, the more n’ more animalistic his noises were becoming—until those intimidating teeth of his made an appearance to mark you as his.
Truly his.
When you entered the local Hybrid Companionship Program, you’d never have guessed you’d end up like this. Though you certainly weren’t complaining.
But Toji had always known you were his mate.
It’d started on a Friday night; your boss had insisted on yet another drinking party, and you’d been strong-armed into joining a few awkward co-workers in pouring drinks and pretending that you cared so much more about what Abe from finance had to say about the state of the economy and how it related to lax dress codes at work.
Particularly your dress code.
Ugh.
You’re throwing the drunken man inside the taxi with more force than necessary—and handing over a large tip to the driver in front.
You might hate the guy, but leaving him on the pavement like this might just get your pay docked…
As a few more of your co-workers pile into the taxi, they ask you whether you’re joining.
Your eyes flicker from the tangled body of Abe inside…to the clear night out…back to Abe inside. It’s with something akin to relief that you’re saying you’d rather walk—it wasn’t too far of a trek anyways. It’s just then that Abe babbles something about it being unsafe and he’d oh-so-gladly make some room for you…
You’re closing the taxi door and not caring whether you catch Abe’s toes.
It was during this night walk - which in and of itself was rather uneventful - that you passed by the Tokyo Hybrid Center. The hub for all things hybrid-related: from informational seminars, to campaigning, to employment opportunities, and even a shelter for hybrids that were on the run from illegal fighting rings, etc.
And it was outside this massive building that you saw the sign.
Hot hybrids 5 minutes away want to meet you!
HYBRID COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM:
Are you searching for a new roommate? Are you looking to broaden your friend group beyond simple human backgrounds?
Join our Hybrid Companionship Program to get suited with hybrids that wish to make new human friends. Deepen relations between humans and hybrids!
Contact +69 XXX XXX XXXX for more information (or just walk in!)
You’d walked in.
It’d taken about a week to plough through the columns of forms and meetings with officials of the program. And after you finally managed to complete them, you waited…and waited…and waited…
Months later, you’d been entertaining the thought that perhaps they just found you unsuitable for every hybrid that walked through those doors. Which stung a little, you admit, for Abe had been particularly irritating at that stuffy office lately- and you’d been itching for a new friend. But you could get through, surely—
That’s when you got a call from the program, informing you that you’d been matched with a grey wolf hybrid.
That’s how you became friends with Toji Fushiguro.
An unsure, bumbling friendship.
One that meant - a few months later - you found yourself like this—
Nails attempting to claw into the mattress - it’s drawing a few jagged lines down the silken sheets that you swear you’d just washed—though that wasn’t anything Toji cared about. He couldn’t even think.
He couldn’t feel anything other than the soft, suctioning sensation of your pussy- the way it was dragging his inches back in even as he pulled out. The cutest squelches leave you every time he’s pushing in, in, in—
And Toji himself pulls his face out from the crook of your neck.
He’s leaving a garish bite mark behind- and the wolf hybrid laps at it a few times. Proud of his work. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been wanting to do this since the moment he met you.
And then he’s catching sight of your lecherous reactions- the way you’re squirmin’ away from him and whimpering at the stinging feeling. Oh…how it makes him snicker.
Before you can register it, his right hand reaches in front of you and tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, “How cute…” How sweet. How loving. “But don’t you think you can run away from me, doll.” In a single split-second, Toji has both of your hands pulled behind your back- and your pretty face collapsing onto the pillows.
Spit smears out of your mouth and on the pillowcases, and you’re keening as he bends your hands behind your back.
Holding onto them-
“I’d never—ngh, run away…” You scoff.
“Good.” He’s exposing your freshly-made bite mark to his hot pants. “Because m’not stopping anytime soon.”
Then in the next few strokes, Toji’s straightening himself up as he keeps drilling into you from behind - maintaining a strong hold on your wrists. Pulling them behind you. Leaving you completely at the mercy of his rugged, pummeling cock. Just pushing and pushing—
He glues his muscular thighs to the backs of yours- and keeps his inky-black happy trail scruffing at your ass cheeks. The way you were arched in this new position meant that he was hittin’ spots you didn’t even know existed. And most of all, his bulbous tip was shoved just a few inches deeper to make a firm indent at your cervix.
You’re whining as you feel the intrusion. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—yes. More. I can take it.”
“More?” He asks questioningly.
Nodding and nodding.
“Careful what you wish for, honey.”
Though, despite Toji’s warning tone, his fluffy tail swishes behind him in delight. How he loved losing his senses in your pussy.
Your warm, welcoming pussy.
You’re squeezing his thick cock in surprise once you feel something settle atop your head- and it takes you longer than it should to realize that Toji Fushiguro had just reached his right leg in front of him and stepped down on your crown.
Your jaw drops at the utter audacity.
“H-holy shit…”
And then he’s increasing his pace, he’s exercising his immense strength even further.
He’s fucking you like he was furious with you - like he was making up for however many months he couldn’t get his hands on his precious mate. Something deeeeep, and carnal, inside him yips with glee at the fact that he had you like this—choking on his cock and begging for more. More and more.
Toji’s rational brain was overcome with…something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.
Some strange part of him that needed to stuff himself so deep inside you that you remember him even once he’s pulled out. Some strange part of him that wanted his essence to be so combined with yours that everyone else that encounters you knows you’re his mate- and vice versa. He wanted you badly—always has. And even the slightest bounces of yours hips - whenever you were fucking back into him - made a part of him crack- he couldn’t stand to break contact with you for a single fucking second.
Toji tugs you by the arms - so far back that your ass cheeks were glued to his toned pelvis. And you have nowhere to run but the stirring motions of his cock.
In the hazy noise of your bodies meeting, the bed frame begins to crack!
“What’s the matter?” He croons. And after a few more vicious strokes render you near-speechless, he chuckles to himself. “Dick got your tongue?”
“You’re s-sooo—” But it was so hard to speak with the way his flared tip swabbed into your sweetest spots. He pinpointed even the ones your gooey channel kept hidden, and then ran the veiny underside of his length down those glossed walls- probing against your g-spot with such raw fervour. “Ngh.”
You were being pushed back n’ forth.
Manhandled back n’ forth.
And he doesn’t want you moving away from him for a single second.
The sheer force of his hips was enough that your sweaty scalp nearly bangs! against the wooden headboard. Toji notices the near-contact, and he’s lugging back both your bodies without a single word. “Hey hey- c’mere—where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“S’not my fault…” Big tears run down your cheeks.
“Yeah yeah- now shush n’ take it”
Sweaty and tangled up as one.
And if that wasn’t enough- Toji runs his thickened cock out of your cunt. Slapping it against your puffy pussylips and probin’ at your clit for a few thrusts- before pushing his solid inches back in and pumping away until you were utterly stupid. Utterly babbling.
His ballsack ends up plastered against your folds and plap-plap-plapping.
You’re feeling the exact moment that they’re then clenching- an explosion of creamy white cum that drips into your glossy channel.
Wad after wad.
Ribbon after ribbon.
Your walls expand with the addition. “Oh p-pleeeease- fuck! So much…” Your mouth waters, “How can you even…so much.”
Webbing up your poor insides, drenching them pure white. His bawlin’ divot was also just the perfect shape to probe those droplets of cum into your tender orifices, smearing them with his length thereafter. Again and again. Toji needs merely a few thrusts of him fuckin’ his warm seed into you - before you’re hurtling into your own orgasm, too. And it’s so strong that it makes lights flash behind your eyes—
Through the white-hot pleasure, you feel a set of canines sink into your neck. Again.
This time, on the other side.
“Heh…now they’re gonna know for sure.”
.
.
.
It was inevitable that you’d be the talk of the office.
The moment you stepped through those swivelling doors: all eyes were on you.
From the bored receptionist that looked away from his computer, to the wizened doorman whose brows raised, to that damn Abe who’d been drinking at the water fountain at that precise moment you walked into the lobby. The interns openly gaped, of course.
But it was nothing against the way that Abe physically spat out the water he’d been holding in his mouth- right onto some unfortunate intern who looked as though he was very serious about quitting this job.
With a few hasty apologies, the bane of your office life was walking towards you.
Then perhaps he’d noticed just how large the canines that’d made that mating mark seemed to be. Perhaps he’d seen all those accompanying nips and nail marks wherever your skin was visible. Or perhaps he was seeing Toji—standing right behind you and glowering at the man.
You looked as though you’d been thrown to the wolves, and you’d brought one right to work.
“Toji, I told you—” You coo at him. “You don’t need to accompany me all the way here.”
“Oh, I think I do.” He murmurs.
In front of him, Abe starts backing up.
Looking straight at him, he says. “Have a great day at work…”
Grinning a grin that showcases every dangerous tooth.
“-my mate.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - White-collar man!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“F-forgive me if I’m a little…unsure about this, my love.” You’ve never heard your perfect husband tremble in such a tone—something unsure, something so unlike the eloquent nature you’ve grown so used to.
He was stuttering.
Why? Perhaps because of the way you were sneakin’ your luscious cunt down his length. Perhaps because of the way you’re feeling his prominent vein sneak down your walls- squeezing him where he was girthiest. Or perhaps because of the collar you’d put ‘round him.
It was a throw-away comment, really.
You’d been seated beside your husband late at night; talking into the early hours of the morning—everything from your favorite dates to the best restaurants in Tokyo to…kinks that the two of you have never tried before. And your husband being a dog hybrid - a German Shepherd type, to be specific - you admit that you may have thought of something…to do…with making your husband don a collar.
And Nanami Kento being the perfect gentleman, was always happy to entertain your wildest ideas. At least once.
Though by the way he was affected by the thick faux-leather around his neck- you’re guessing that this might not be the last time…
“What’s the matter?” You watch as he brings up one finger and tugs on the tightened restraint. Underneath, Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs—“Too tight for you, Kento?”
“Not at all.” He fervently shakes his head. “It’s just…”
“Just what, baby?” Giving him yet another stir of your hips. Pap-papping! down his swollen inches.
In response, the large hybrid bucks his pelvis up into yours- letting the skin of his thighs stick against your own, letting the bulbous edge of his cock veer in even deeper. So much of his length; it felt never-ending.
Nanami has to use up every single shred of will within him to keep his head from tipping backwards, “It’s just that- hck! that it feels so good that…” Jaw clenching at the way your walls kept clenching harder n’ harder around his length—he wanted to whine. But with that damn collar on him, his airway kept getting restricted. “-that i-it almost feels unfair.”
Alternating between a sensual, soft slide down his cock- and then speeding up when it felt like he was getting too clear-headed.
“What do you mean, Kento?” Genuine confusion.
“It just means that I’m over here feeling all good because of this collar and your- ngh—” Gesturing vaguely at your cunt - though that didn’t seem to be enough, and the blond man can’t stop himself from pushing aside your legs to let his hand between them. Running his thumb eagerly over your clit - thorough, steady strokes—just the way you liked it. “-your pussy. But am I making you feel good enough, my love?”
Your brows furrow, “Of course you are, Kento-”
“No, but…good enough.” He insists. And then his handsome face draws nearer, and Nanami’s lips are catching onto yours. “M’the type of man that needs my wife to feel better than me, darlin’.”
“Kento—o-oh.” Entire body wracking with carnal shivers at the feeling of his thumb pressin’ down even harder. Like some cute heart-shaped button, he’s pouring out all his love with stroke after stroke after stroke.
And he continues, “I need you to feel so good that you almost can’t take it.” He growls- and for a split-second you’re seeing a flash of those intimidating canines that made you weak in the knees. Nanami’s ears perk up in alertness as his hips start rammin’ equally as fast to meet your pace, “I need you to feel dizzy with pleasure- hear me?”
“Fuck-”
“I need you to feel better than me.”
“Oh…” Head lolling behind- you’re not getting too far before he’s craning his neck and catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss.
Golden brows furrowing, “Mmm—hear me? I need you to be aching, I need you to be fucked stupid- I need you to be mindless with pleasure…” And then his fingers are briefly letting go of your sensitive nub to pinch. “Because that’s what good husbands do.”
Stimulating your unsuspecting clit.
Running his crowned tip into every spot he knew you liked.
Nanami had his body practically plastered to yours as if he lived for this - he wanted to fuck you numb with pleasure, and it didn’t matter if he had to run his vein-covered shaft fucking raw on your walls to do it. Desperate. Dominant. Purely for your service. It didn’t matter if his collar was getting tighter between all the pants—if he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter if his limbs were getting tired. It didn’t matter if his hybrid tail was wagging his emotions all on display.
It takes a few more vulgar, sloppy strokes of him pushin’ away his translucent precum into your deepest depths before Nanami speaks again. This time, he jerks his head ever-so-slightly up into the air and sniffs. “And this good husband can also smell that you’re close.”
You’re breathless, “Close?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his honed hybrid senses but-
Fuck.
And then it’s hitting you.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Without you even realizing it - it’d been building up without you even noticing - you’re wracking your way into your orgasm.
Like shards of glass scattering; bolts of pleasure build up at your pussy n’ then course through your veins. Sending deep pangs of euphoria up to your brain- your mind’s just a little fried when you’re elongating your high with primal bucks and bounces down Nanami’s ruthless cock. Up and up. Down until the scruff of his tawny-brown happy trail scratches against your outer folds.
Your head finally lunges back, your body’s arching into him.
And the only thing you can think to do is reach out and hold onto Nanami’s collar—
It’s like your lifeline. And your husband’s brows slightly raise as you clasp onto it, cutting off his breathing ever-so-slightly at the crescendo of your orgasm: you were choking him and he was liking it far more than he expected.
It’s all Nanami can do to gnaw down on the flap of his lower lip and continue, “This…fuck.”
“This is my pleasure, Kento.” Babbling out - you don’t know whether to blame the fogginess that your high brought upon you or not. “I really like it when you- hah, do your best to make me feel good. I really like that you—”
Pressing your lips to his.
“-make me feel so- fuck, loved.”
You can feel Nanami smiling into the kiss. His throat tremors with the signal that he was about to say something more- but you’re quickly cutting him off with a tug at his collar.
Finishing off, “And I really fucking love when you wear this collar f’me.”
Between your pussylips, his bulging cock twitches in arousal.
The most wicked grin spreads across Nanami’s handsome features, and he’s bringing his hand up to the collar- for a second there, you think he’s about to remove it. And you’re getting ready for the sensual entrapment to fall off—but instead, he takes his index and taps on the little loop that the collar had.
One for the leash.
“Then why don’t we take it a step further, darling?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Here, pussy pussy…
Hybrid type: Felis catus
Everyone knew that Geto Suguru was a cat hybrid.
One of those Abyssinian breeds that were rare and revered: he often prowled down the hallways of his temple, as silent as death itself, his tall figure casting shadows in every corner. Two upturned ears and a tail behind his chiseled frame. Because as beautiful as Geto Suguru was—he was just as dangerous.
And perhaps you knew better than anyone.
After all, as his right-hand member of the Association, you followed Geto wherever he went. To every dojo he visited to make sure that the other Association members were in top form for a battle; of course, it’d end up with him defeating them all and piling on the fatigued bodies as a lesson. To every home he had to visit, a mere smile of his being enough to intimidate even the most rebellious of ex-members (there were rarely any left breathing) into staying quiet. Perhaps even joining their circle once more.
To every meeting he ordered, seating before rows upon rows of men and women and everyone in-between—bowed at the waist reverently between who they saw as a deity himself.
Because in many ways, he was.
And here you were as a mere human before him: on your knees, mouth gaped as he trickled out more ropey splashes of cum.
Such sheer volumes of it flooding the cavern of your mouth, ending up dribbling down the sides of your lips in satiny ribbons. After he finishes tuggin’ his swollen cock a few more times to milk out his final beads of cum, Geto taps his blushing tip straight on your lips, your tongue, your cheek - just to watch your expression threaten to contort in surprise.
And then he’s setting his length free and bringing down a hand to cup your chin.
The roughened fatness of his thumb wipin’ away a glittering bead of syrup. “There, there…” Geto hums, “Think that pussy’s sorry enough now, gorgeous?”
You attempt to speak, but your mouth’s too full. “Mmm—mmpf.”
“That’s what I thought.” He snickers meanly to himself. And before you know it, that thumb of his that’d been nicely roverin’ down the edges of your stained lips starts pushing inwards- starts pushing his digit deep inside your sloppy mouth and reaching for the very back of your throat. It makes some predatory part of him sing with glee to watch your eyes tear up, and your nose crinkle at the intrusion. “But I don’t know…I still don’t think she’s sorry enough.”
Your eyes shoot open, lashes heavy with tears.
Still not sorry enough?
Still not sorry enough?
Where did this even begin—all because you’d had the audacity to fake it.
It’d been another night cooped up in Geto Suguru’s grand quarters, which had quickly become your favorite area of his hideout, and he’d been fucking you long and hard aaaaaall night. He’d been keeping his ravenous tip lodged nearly where your throat was, and driven you crazily over the edge more times than you could count.
And as a result of that, maybe you’d gotten a little…sloppy.
Before you knew it, Geto was tappin’ away at your clit with his thumb- intending to send you both hurtling into your highs. But being so overstimulated, you couldn’t help but put on a little show faking it- hell, you weren’t even sure whether you could catch on at this point.
Yet you should’ve known that the incredible senses of a cat hybrid would always know.
Always.
And so here you were: with your mouth stuffed till the brim, time and time again, in punishment for attempting to con the leader. Whilst your cunt throbbed away animalistically between your legs-
“I can smell that ungrateful pussy of yours growing wetter.” The hybrid’s keen nose twitches- sweeter. The room seemed to get so much sweeter - like a candy factory - whenever you grew more aroused.
“I- hck! can’t help it…” With monumental effort, you’re speaking through the fingers he had probing between your kiss-swollen lips.
“Yes, you can.” He spits. “Does that ungrateful pussy think she deserves my cock?”
You can’t stop yourself—you’re nodding and nodding. Resting on the heels of your feet and grindin’ back against those mounds - it’s the only sort of friction you’re able to get right now. And by the way that Geto’s dexterous tail was swishing from side-to-side, then it seems that he didn’t quite appreciate that, either…
And so with such a mean snarl upon his handsome face- he pulls out the thumb that’d been massaging your tongue. Getting sucked. And without a single warning, Geto grabs the back of your scalp and rams your mouth down his cock- all the way till the base. Until the tufts of his jet-black hair was scraping your nose, and you’re moaning needily around him. You needed him so badly.
“Tch- seems she really does want my cock.” With raised brows, Geto looks down at where you were pushing n’ pressing yourself against your feet. How it covered every single spot your pussy touched with a glistenin’ layer of slick. “Fine…”
Your eyes shoot open. Looking up at him pleadingly—
“Fine, that silly pussy can have my cock…” Geto’s grip on you grows even tighter - searing. “She can have my loooong, thick cock.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, “But she better know that I am very angry at her.”
And then you’re being pulled off his hard erection with a pwah!
Soon enough, you’re finding yourself laid flatly against the leader’s futon.
His powerful hips pinning yours down, his long hair loosening around the two of you like a curtain- his muscular tail keeping one of your legs pinned to the side as he presses your thighs open n’ shovels you with his ravenous inches.
From the glistening crown of his shaft—down, down, down until those familiar curls surrounding his hilt.
Geto fucks you like he’s furious at you-
Like he’s aiming to leave a few purple bruises on that cervix of yours, like he’s stretching out your walls so they remember his exact size. He wants you to feel him between your legs even after he’s pulled out - maybe that’d be enough of a reminder to keep your damn pussy in line. And even as he thinks about it, the cat hybrid’s hastening his hips.
Piston after piston after piston.
His fingers dart upwards to grab at your clit- and you’re genuinely sobbing as he squeezes it. Somewhere in the muddled rationale of your brain, you’re sure that he’s fucking you just to make you cry.
With his other hand, Geto brings that spit-coated thumb up to his mouth n’ licks it clean. Then his lip curls, “Disgusting. This fuckin’ pussy doesn’t even deserve what m’giving her.” Pinching your throbbing nub once more, “Does she?”
“I-I—” You bawl. “I don’t-”
“What’s that?” Another pinch. “Say it louder so that she’s hearing too-”
“I don’t!”
“Damn right.” Geto twitches his nose once your cunt simply grows even wetter, “Hear that?”
Whatever noises he’s wrenching from between your legs as he fucks you- it seems to be enough of a answer to him. And then he’s hitting your sodden womb with a smack!
“Shouldn’t even be fucking her- tch, not after she went against her leader.” Geto muses to himself, “She should be thanking the- hah, universe that I’m just in rut.”
Cold water pours down your body - or perhaps that was just Geto’s sticky precum dribbling out in puddles. “You’re in rut?” You gasp.
“Problem—?”
“N-not at all.” In fact, you’re spreading your thighs apart and bucking into his battering thrusts. Even more. Such greed; despite how well Geto was fucking you…you’re still yearning for more of him. Lashes fluttering with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been more honest in your entire life as you plead—“I want you to f-fuck me until you’re shooting blanks—” Reaching around his toned waist and tuggin’ on his tail. “-Suguru.”
His breath hitches.
And then he purrs.
“Fine, you’re forgiven…” Before elation can hit you, he twists his fingers on your sodden clit. Hard.
“O-oh-”
“-if you squirt f’me.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - RUT RUT RUT.
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
He couldn’t help himself.
He honestly couldn’t.
Choso Kamo has no idea what’s gotten into him.
One morning, he’s waking up with the most painful boner of his entire life—and it seems that you’d gone out to the store bright n’ early. So that’s no big deal. Shit happens. He could handle it all by himself: he’d flounced out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom for a cold shower - having his own hand wrapped around his cock wouldn’t feel nearly as good as having yours.
And so that problem had been taken care of.
Or so Choso had thought.
The next little (not-so-little) issue had popped up almost immediately after he’d exited the shower.
All freshened-up, Choso was drying his shoulder-length hair with a towel as he walked into the bedroom. And then he’d seen it.
Then he’d mindlessly cast his gaze around the room and ended up dropping it onto…the bucket of laundry that he was meant to fold today. And other than the nagging guilt of putting it off, he’d been fixated on one thing: the lacy black panties that you’d left on top of the pile.
Without thinking twice, Choso’s hybrid tail was wagging. Without thinking even once, Choso’s hand had cast out and grabbed it.
And brought it to his face to sniff—
Then lo and behold, he was sporting an utterly painful boner that made the hybrid rush straight back into the bathroom. Except…this time, it was one that couldn’t be willed away no matter how many cold buckets of water he poured over his head, no matter how many times he thought about unsexy practices like taxes or…basically anything that wasn’t related to you, or anything you wore, or anything you said.
He’d been forced to wrap a guilty hand around his cock and jerk himself to ecstasy before he could leave the bathroom again.
This time, as long as he avoided looking at your panties on the laundry pile, he was able to leave the room without popping a boner.
Kidding.
Choso Kamo made two steps before he was feeling something akin to withdrawals—and soon enough, he was finding himself elbow-deep in the laundry bucket, shuffling around to hunt each and every pair of panties he could find. And then—and then he was speed-walking to the laundry room itself, grabbing every single scrap of overpriced lace he could find: washed and unwashed.
Dropping it all down on the bed before tearing his shorts down and pulling his cock raw. Tail wagging. Palm red. Mouth gaping open.
What was happening to him?
What was happening to his body?
Why was he feeling so…
But no matter how many times he was cummin’ all over your scattered panties on the bed - it still wasn’t enough for him.
And that’s the state you found your poor, poor boyfriend in when you came home.
.
.
.
Squelch!
“J-just a little more…” Choso’s voice comes out botched. Hot breaths sticking to the column of your neck, making the skin ‘round that area feel sticky.
Everything about this was such a mess.
Such a mess.
The bedsheets sticking to your back. The cum flowing between your quivering legs. Even Choso’s movements- the smallest, sloppiest semi-thrusts that were all he could manage. Anything more and he was on the verge of cumming blanks—so now he merely had his ruby-red tip stuffed between your pussylips n’ delicately shifting your sweet spots aside.
Large tears start up at his waterline and end up flowing down his cheeks. “Just a little more and I think m’gonna stop, baby.”
“No need to rush, Cho.” You coo reassuringly from beneath him. Reaching one hand up, you wipe away some of Choso’s tears. “Take as long as you need.”
His hybrid tail wags behind him as he takes in your words. You always did treat him so tenderly.
“Yes, but I p-promise…” He whimpers. Such a sweet, sweet noise hatching at the back of his throat as he bucks his hips backwards- n’ draws a gluey vertical line down the expanse of your cervix. “Just one more and m’gonna- hck! stop.”
“Of course.” Pushing back on the dark brown bangs that stuck to his forehead, “But remember that you’re in rut, baby. I don’t know if it’ll- haaah, end so easily.”
“But I’ve gotta.”
Voice cracking.
Desperate—just so desperate.
His hips are stuttering forwards at an incredible pace, lashing out into every hidden ridge n’ crevice deep inside you. Even more powerful because of his hybrid status. The toned edges of his pelvis are practically gluing to you—feeling sleek all over with a layer of sheen that escapes from the top of his ruddied tip. Even though Choso wasn’t exactly cumming at the moment, he was bawling out such volumes of precum that made it feel as though he was. And he thumbs it inside you with a whimper.
“I n-need to. This has to be the last one.” Almost breathing. Almost speaking to himself rather than you. He continues between punctured thrusts, “You wanna know why? Otherwise m’just gonna keep cumming, baby…”
Your eyes widen. “What do you mean, Choso?”
Hiccups crackle at the back of his throat. His ears start to droop.
And with a trembling expression, Choso thumbs in the last of his translucent sap. Then he’s holding onto the base of his cock and funneling you with it- you think he might be holdin’ onto himself to better guide his probing tip into your sweet spots…but no.
No, you’re quickly coming to realize that Choso was grasping onto himself solely because he needed to stop himself from cumming so much. Needed to.
There’s a twitch between his eyebrows, and he bites down on his lower lip as he waves off yet another high. “I-I just can’t seem to stop.” And it wasn’t just that pussydrunken tone of his - Choso sounded absolutely gone, ruined, wrecked by this point. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me—but I just wanna fuck you all full until I physically can’t cum anymore…”
“Oh—” Your moans are long and hollowed.
“I just wanna start shooting blanks- maybe that’d get me to stop fucking you finally.” Between the slurps and squelches of your cunt gulping him up, he manages to echo his words. “It’s just so addictive, baby…” Pulling out the raw, sap-glossed edge of his shaft- he draws a few hearts on top of your pussy before funneling back in. “I just wanna fuck you like a damn dog-”
“Oh!” Because at that very moment, Choso leans forwards and bites a good marking at the crook of your neck. “Easy there, boy.”
Hips only speeding up. Hips only milking himself even more…“I just wanna watch my girl’s pussy get covered in my cum. Flood with it.” He sniffles, “I just wanna ngh- fuck you and fuck you—” Attacking your mouth with a sloppy, passionate kiss. “-again and again and again- I can’t fucking stop myself.”
And Choso had long since been pussydrunken- his rut just made him extra-sensitive to those lecherous sensations.
But now you were almost as cockdrunk.
Jaw dropping. Heels hooking around his waist. Pupils shaping into hearts—Choso takes one single look at that expression, and his entire body’s wracking in visceral shivers.
That animalistic side to him taking over as he fucks you long and hard- “Baby, I think m’gonna cum again soon…” He whispers in your ear. “And after I cum again- ngh, m’gonna need you to put me back in my senses before I go another round. And then another—and another. Because soon enough m’gonna be fucking you for daaaaaays.”
“I don’t mind.” You mutter, more to yourself.
“What was that?” He asks.
And you’re shaking your head: you knew that Choso thought you couldn’t take it with your human stamina. He wanted to go for days. You wanted to go for days…“Nothing at all.” Hooking your arms around his neck, “Cum inside me, baby.”
It takes only a few more vulgar strokes before he’s finishing off—so overstimulated by this point that it’s just a few pearly-white beads of sap. Just a few trickles of hot cum. Before nothing more can escape out of him- and Choso’s merely bucking into you for pleasure, riding out the dry waves of his orgasm. Cumming dry.
Peak after peak.
Rollin’ his dried-up cock into your gooey depths.
He shakes as his bliss overcomes him. The prettiest tears dripping down his cheeks and hanging off of his pointed chin.
Soon enough, he’s fucked himself limp on your perfect pussy.
And all it takes is a mere nudge to flip your positions; with Choso seats back against the pillows, and you straddling his reddened hips. Bouncin’ your cunt down his thick cock.
His eyes damn-near bulge out of his skull. Though you can see his long tail wagging happily- “But baby, can you—”
“I can take it.” You smirk. “So be a good puppyboy f’me and beg.”
“W-woof…”
A rut could last a week.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy, Tiger…
Hybrid type: Panthera tigris
Now, it was no secret that your boyfriend is a tiger hybrid.
Endangered. Enormous. The rarest amongst even the rare hybrids; his striped tail and broad figure drew stares wherever the two of you went. Often, onlookers were torn between admiration and intimidation as they gazed upon the great hybrid- the great hybrid that caught their stares, crumpled them up, and flung them right back at them at 308 mph with a single glare…
Needless to say, Ryomen Sukuna’s temper was one befitting of a tiger hybrid.
And most people knew not to mess with your boyfriend. Most people knew not to so much as nudge his patience.
Except for you, that is.
“Meow for me, Kuna.” You didn’t care if you got on his nerves.
“Fuck off.”
“Pleeeeease—?”
“What sort of fuckin’ tiger hybrid meows?”
You’re seated on Sukuna’s lap while he tries to work on some ol’ project; knees straddling his waist, back facing his laptop, and your fingers dug into his coral-pink hair. It was just so soft and bouncy underneath your touch, and soon enough your hands found themselves edging into the sinuous area of his ears.
Tiger ears.
“H-hah…” He shivers. “Watch your hands, woman.” Comes Sukuna’s low snarl. His breath tickles the column of your neck, and in your peripheral vision you see his long canines point. “Y’know damn well that I’m sensitive there.”
“Oh, are you?” With a dramatic gasp, you’re turning to face him. And laughter bubbles to your throat as you notice the irritated tick in his jaw already. “Sensitive? And here I thought you were some big, bad tiger hybrid.”
Sukuna looks at you incredulously, “Damn right I am.”
“Oh yeah?” And then your fingers are gliding up the mountains of his ears. Right from the base, and then up to the very tip-
“H-hey—fuck.” A carnal shiver wracks through him, and Sukuna’s striped tail sways from side-to-side behind him. “That doesn’t prove anything?”
And then right back down again—and then…fuck, and then you’re finding that good spot behind his ears that makes him shutter his eyes and lean into your touch. Like some damn housecat, Sukuna’s letting out a slow, satisfied purr as your fingers continue their fatal ministrations. He’d slap himself if it didn’t feel so good.
Through the slight gaps in his vision, he spots a victorious grin spread across your pretty lips. “Meow f’me, Kuna.”
Leaning deeper into your touch. His lips purse, “M-me…” And then Sukuna’s eyes shoot open as he realizes just what he was about to do.
Just what you were close to making him do.
A fucking tiger hybrid and he’s meowing for you?!
Now that can’t be.
Before you know it, one of Sukuna’s large, bulky hands reaches up and smushes your cheeks together- how cute. Those honed nails of his prickle over your skin - just light enough to send goosebumps scattering - and then he’s running it down to grab you by your throat.
“You exceed your limits, brat.”
You smirk n’ lean down to kiss him on the nose. “Easy, tiger.”
And the thing is…Sukuna’s heart jumps to his throat - and his cock - the moment he reads that expression on your face. The type of smugness that told him- you wanted to be fucked back into your place.
He huffs. Silly little human—
Just a few minutes later, the massive hybrid has you stood and shoved against the edge of his work desk. Polished oak pushing against your body, Sukuna’s front pressing into you from behind; even the slightest squirms mean you can feel his erect cock. Those important documents his assistant, Uraume, told him were confidential go flying everywhere the minute he’s clawin’ aside your sodden panties- ripping them.
Giving his rock-hard erection a good squeeze before shoving down his grey sweatpants and shovelling himself raw.
Not the barest bit of stretchin’ out your elastic hole. Before you feel himself fitting in until the very hilt-
“Oh-ohhhh—” Your hands are shooting out in front of you, dragging faint nail marks into the wood. Mouth dropping agonizingly as the delicious curve of his length starts smearing down your goopy walls.
Just a single semi-thrust. Just a lurch of his globular tip- swipin’ down every sweet cranny and orifice without even trying. Your back arches into him, “Kuna, that feels so- mmpf!”
Before you know it, one of his large hands comes up to cover your mouth. “Shut it, girlie. M’trying to make you meow for me.”
Lashes fluttering, “M-me?”
Yet another rugged slam! The luscious tip of his shaft opens up every crevice and seeps hot precum into your every pore. Sukuna always managed to fuck you so agonizingly well—and even now, he was rendering your body weak and tremblin’ with just a few hits to the back of your pussy. Back and forth. Back and forth.
One of his roughened hands glides down your back until it rests on the base of your spine. Arching you even more.
The sensual end of his shaft curved up juuuuuust a little upwards and dragged his drivelling tip down the roof of your cunt. And you can’t help but moan out-
“Now now.” A slam of his left hand down on your stuffed pussy. Sukuna cranes his head to the side and watches those bloated lips of yours quiver- adorable. “What did I say about you stayin’ quiet?”
“I-I didn’t realize you were seriou- mmm.” He’s pressing his right palm further against your face.
He whispers, “Or m’slapping this ungrateful cunt once for every word.”
Pushing against you. Pinning you beneath him. Keeping your restless hips in place - no matter how much you’re bucking and begging for more, Sukuna’s the one in control of how his solid, veiny inches were dragging in and out of your pussy. Again and again.
And as he’s pummeling into you as if he was furious—Sukuna spits out mercilessly, “Don’t tell me I’ve gotta fuck you stupid to make you shut up?” His tone was low and dangerous- one of his knees shoves between your legs n’ spreads them even wider for easier access. “Are you this pussy?” When you don’t answer, he’s letting his hips run even deeper and massage your ass cheeks with his scruff of pink happy trail. “Huh?”
Confusion and lust befogging your brain- “N-no…?”
He’s puncturing each syllable with thrusts- honing in deep at the back of your gooey pussy. You’re openin’ up so readily for him. “Are you the one I want meowing?”
Ribbons of spit fall from your lips and soil his palm. “No.”
“And so are you supposed to speak?”
“No-”
“Then why the fuck are you speaking now?”
Even now.
That little—
Your jaw drops as you realize that you’d just been baited into wasting your breath, your words- and your head swivels ‘round to look at him.
And oh, what a sight…
You’re only met with Sukuna’s cocky smile and your stinging pussy being punished with three more consecutive slap-slap-slaps that send shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your veins. The entire expanse of your body seems to be set alight. The tips of your toes are curling inwards-
And as if your body couldn’t have been any more unstable; Sukuna’s powerful tail hooks around your right calf and maneuvers it as if you were nothing but a pretty lil’ doll beneath him. Just the cutest little mewls dripping out of you once his hybrid appendage drags your leg up onto the table and keeps it there—so pliable for him. This sudden change in angle makes his thick, vein-covered cock rover even deeper.
With the burgeoning end of his tip, he’s pinpointing every single nook and bundle of nerves.
“I don’t wanna hear another peep out of you, m’here to listen to this pretty pussy. And I don’t care if I have to fuck you stupid to listen to this kitty…” Sukuna warns. And as your chest heaves, he’s removing his hand from your mouth- you can moan n’ mewl as much as you wanted.
But rest assured that he’s still keeping his claws ‘round your throat and making you whimper as those pointed tips graze your tender skin. Marking you. “I…mmm.”
It’s almost too much for him to handle: watching you chew on the inside of your cheek as you held your words back.
And with a gleeful smile, the tiger hybrid leans back n’ coos at your pussy - folds glistening with the excess of his precum clinging onto you, the outer edges of your cunt bloated from how many times he’s slamming and slamming against them. Until the area of his pelvis burns red. “Heeeeere kitty kitty~” You’ve never heard him speak to you like that…“This girl here’s jealous because m’giving you special treatment. Why don’tcha show her who owns this cock?”
“Kun- oh.” Pressing your lips together as the fire starts sizzling at the pit of your stomach.
“Because you do own this cock- me, don’t you?” Giving you yet another spank! “I’d meow for you.”
“Pussydrunk…” You mutter- only to be hit with another barrage of slap-slaps that were just pushing you closer towards the edge.
“Why dont’cha make a scene? Make some noise f’me?” And then his left hand dips between your legs and ends up grazing between your pussylips. Finding that button of your clit. “Why don’tcha meow—?”
And all it takes is one squeeze- one.
Before light explodes behind your closed eyelids - when did you even shut them - and you’re suddenly being propelled into your high. Your orgasm thunders between your legs n’ shoots hot dopamine through every vein, vessel, and atom.
It takes over your body in a wave- harsh and fast.
And as the torrents of it take over you, Sukuna’s keeping a firm hand latched onto your pussy and rolling over your throbbing clit. Meanwhile his cock accelerates in and out to bash you through every incredible peak.
“Yeah- yeah.” Sukuna hisses into your ear, breath scorching enough that it causes your surrounding skin to perspire. The space between you two was non-existent and sizzling. “Yeahhhh, feels pretty good, huh?”
His tiger tail pushes down on your restless leg- keeping you hiked up. And Sukuna’s ruthless hits only get more and more accurate by the second: your g-spot was likely reddened n’ stinging from the inside.
“Feels nice to meow? S’this what you wanted so bad—” Those sweet, sweet noises of you getting even wetter as he fucked you through your orgasm…like music to his ears. “And awwww, look at that- heh…” Sukuna’s thumb taps down on your pulsating clit, “She’s even purring f’me.”
The two most prominent veins down his shaft make you mewl as he’s bouncing off every good spot. And you claw down his table as you keen—“Y-you’re going to- oh. M’gonna get you back for this, gonna milk you dry just wait and watch.”
Without a second of hesitation, you reach up and graze your fingertips across his twitching ears.
And at that very moment, you feel his bulging cock swell even impossibly bigger inside of you.
He purrs, hybrid tail pulling you both closer together. “Easy, tiger.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - LET THE DOGS OUT!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re wrong-”
“I’m wrong.”
“You’re right-” Ino blinks. “No, wait—”
But you’re jumping on it just as quickly. “Awww, thank you for telling me what I already know, Taku.” You’re running your hands through his tawny golden hair, scratching behind the hybrid’s golden retriever ears- dammit, you knew he was weak for this. How evil….
And he can only manage out a half-hearted growl.
To which you’re raising your brows, and it’s enough to make Ino nuzzle the crook of your neck. Hiding the pretty pout that was surely taking over his lips by now.
“Down, boy.” You smirk, “So you agree with me that cat hybrids are better, huh?”
“No!”
Before you can get out anything more, he’s clawin’ onto your oversized t-shirts. Pawing you. Placating those traitorous words of yours by pressing his heated body even closer.
Ino mutters, “And I can prove it, too.” So determined.
If there was anything that Ino hated more than those damn cat hybrids with their feline sneakiness and obsessive preening; then it was your admiration for it. Your attention. And though he knew that part of you was teasing - quite successfully, at that - you didn’t expect a golden retriever hybrid to act normal about it, did you?
Chuckling, “And how’s that?”
Oh, you knew you were in for it.
Because no matter how cute cat hybrids could be, nothing could ever compare to how possessive puppyboys were.
.
.
.
“See? See—?” Ino’s tone was utterly botched; husky and cracking embarrassingly towards the very end. Unstable. There was a carnal nature to it that just made the hairs on your body raise- and no matter how desperately you’ve heard him speak before, nothing could compare to this.
As he’s holding- practically gluing your hips down onto his.
Skin against skin. Hot sweat gliding between the two of you.
Letting the blushing, bulging tip of his cock swab inside his eighth orgasm of the night. The miry ribbons of his sap layerin’ around his inches and getting pushed in even deeper—or at least attempting to.
Ino had cum so many times tonight that he was having a hard time keeping it all in.
In and in—again and again. A few beads of his cream-white cum foams between your legs and makes the hybrid’s nose crinkle- he’s reaching his left hand up and pushing the excess inside with his thumb. “See? Feel me filling you up with so much cum? All the way until…” Reachin’ up just a little and pushing down on your stomach, he watches as it makes the wads of cum stuffed inside you empty out. “-you’re just bloated with me.”
Making an even bigger mess for him to pretend to have to ‘clean up’ or something or the other.
And you’re feeling so good- Ino’s curvaceous tip was smoochin’ around your sweetest inside. Your most sensitive parts. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck- I can feel you so deep inside.”
“Right from these pussylips…and right up to your womb.” Ino sputters out. And it’s a sheer wonder that he could even string together coherent sentences at this point—just that pussydrunk. “I’ve m-made my mark eeeeeverywhere on this pussy, sweetness.”
“M-made your mark?” You giggle- he was just speaking nonsense. But it was just so cute how earnestly Ino meant it.
His long, doe-like lashes fluttering. His beautiful brown eyes tearing up. His lips quivering the slightest bit every time your walls were clenchin’ and milking him; draaaaagging sloppily from the girthy end of his base and up to his slender tip. “Mhm-” Nodding and nodding- the clapping noises of his hips meeting yours just speeds up. “So that even when m’cleaned out of you, you’re gonna feel me- gonna feel empty without me.”
“Oh…” Your maw drops.
And he’s immediately lurching his dazed head upwards and planting a direct thwack! of spittle between your gorgeous lips. “Even these lips. You’re gonna miss me- ngh, s-stuffing these pretty walls full. You’re gonna miss the feeling of me here—”
Mazin’ between your clingy walls, entering his swollen head into your womb.
“-begging for pups.”
“Baby, you’re pussydrunk-”
Though the words don’t seem to reach his buzzing ears.
“And any other fuckin’ cat hybrid-” He spits out those last two words like venom. Teeth just a little bared. “-are gonna know. They’re gonna smell me on you.” Hybrids, in general, always did have more heightened senses than humans. “They’re gonna sense me. They’re gonna know that Ino Takuma has been here—that he’s made this pussy his before any of them could.”
Lovingly, Ino’s patting your bloated pussy- plap-plap!
You’re so wet that beads of sap n’ cum end up smeared across his fingertips. And he’s skating them down your crevice to pinch at your throbbing clit.
His hybrid tail wags beneath him; you could sense the sheets shifting as a result. “And they’re gonna know…” Ino’s mouth waters just at the notion. “-that I’ve been a good boy for you.”
Your breath hitches at the feeling of something building, and building, and building deep within you.
It’s accumulating with every single ruthless slam! that he was honing out. Hitting every tender area- your g-spot was aaaaaching for touch every single time Ino pulled back to reel in again, just addicted to him already.
And soon enough, you’re finding yourself meeting his every thrust with a needy bounce.
Making your hybrid boyfriend beneath you get pushed up and down the creaking bed- his ears twist in ecstasy when you accelerate. “Now, I wouldn’t say that…” You murmur, and without a single warning—you’re reaching up and tugging on one of fluffy ears. “-you’ve been a real bad boy, Taku.”
“B-but I am better than any cat hybrid… And then his voice is breaking- and Ino Takuma is shattering into his ninth high of the night.
Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like his ninth high.
It feels like five at once. Harsh bouts of pleasure thrum through his body; making it feel as though every single droplet of blood he possessed was rushing out of his limbs and collecting at the very tip-top crown of his shaft. That blushin’ rouge tip just pouring out sticky wads of cum into your deepest depths, sliding them along his heavy inches and into your squeezing walls-
Ino babbles away stupidly as he cums- “I thought I was a good boy.” He hiccups, his lower lip quivering delicately. “Thought I was—ngh, better than…oh.”
And then he’s planting both feet on the navy-blue sheets and arching even deeply up into you.
Desperately.
He was practically wrenching your next orgasm out of you.
You’re letting out a brief whimper at the sudden shockwaves of bliss overtaking you - rendering your vision a little bleary, and your toes curled in pleasure.
And through the fogginess that curls around your brain, you’re able to witness how his long lashes start to dapple in tears. Huffing, “So mean t’me, pretty…”
You snicker, “Only because I love you, Taku.” Leaning down to kiss him tenderly- “You know I can stop the joking around if you want?”
“No…” He shakes his head. “When you’re mean to me it makes me hard.”
Oh.
And what else were you supposed to do; but hum thoughtfully to yourself as you reached out and shuffled in the bedside cabinet? Bringing out that bright-red collar that he loved so much? Snagging it around Ino’s pretty throat and watching as his Adam’s apple bobs-
“Then why don’t you act like a good boy f’me, hm?”
Ino gulps. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - #PUSSYPOWER!
Hybrid type: Panthera uncia
Two words: Snow Leopard.
If there ever were a breed of cat hybrids that drew more attention than a Snow Leopard, then Gojo Satoru would find them and throttle them himself.
Kidding…of course.
But that’s to be said: there were reasons that he was the most talked-about man on campus, among both humans and hybrids alike. He was the frat president of Curses Epsilon, he was tall (6’4 on a bad day, according to the man himself), he was beefy, he was accomplished in a plethora of sports and physics academics of which medals and certificates lined his fraternity bedroom. Did he mention he was president of Curses Epsilon?
Even those dog hybrids that seemed to have a perpetual grudge against the feline type had to admit that there was something eye-catching about him.
Blue hair. Impish smile. White hair—the sole reason that white hair started trending- and even those proud grey wolf hybrids started dying their hair to match him.
At least according to him, that’s the reason.
All in all, the point was that when Gojo Satoru had asked you out - after an entire semester of crushing on you during Professor Yaga’s lectures, sitting in the row behind you - you said no. And he’d damn-near had a heart attack—so did just about everyone in the vicinity that heard you. You just rejected Gojo Satoru himself.
Were pigs about to fly?! They shifted awkwardly in the distance.
And looking at the crestfallen expression on his face, you couldn’t help but explain…you’d never dated a cat hybrid before. You didn’t know if you’d mesh well.
But he’d promised.
He’d promised that it’d be no different. Whatever other hybrids you’d dated in the past - whatever snakes and eugh…dog hybrids - he’d be even better than them.
He’d treat you so much better. He’d fuck you so much bett—
You’d slapped a hand over his mouth and stopped him right then n’ there. And sweeping a look at the people around you two - you find that they were pretending to be far more interested in the surrounding flooring or their textbooks in order to overhear your conversation - you promised that you’d go out with him. Just one date, you’d said.
Glee shone in his eyes—so bright that you almost had to look away.
That one date at some rundown campus coffee shop had turned into two. Two dates had turned into three. Three dates had turned into four-
Then lo and behold, you found yourself dating the most talked-about man on campus. Which seemed like a null title considering it was university, but then again this was Gojo Satoru.
And a relationship with him had been just as electric as you expected.
Especially when it was around a month in- and Gojo had come to your apartment after a four-hour long lecture. Ready to rant about his day. Ready to fall into your bed and sleep Gakuganji’s no-good assignments off.
But a single step inside and…and he’d raised his nose into the air.
He’d taken a deep sniff.
Pupils becoming pinpoints. Fluffy tail swishing from side-to-side.
Beneath the usual lemon-scented spray that you’d use to clean your glasses, there was something…more. Something…different. It was something carnal and alluring—and it was coming from right between your legs as you walked out to greet him. Your pussy smelled strangely, irresistibly sweet to the hybrid.
Gojo Satoru looked at you and a jolt ran through your body at the expression on his face. Primal.
.
.
.
“Heeeeere, kitty kitty~”
You yelp—
And before you know it, your hands are clawing at the twisted-up blankets as you’re dragged back. Fucking dragged back into the hybrid’s mounted body, his hot breath plastering against the side of your neck- where you’d been bitten n’ marked raw. “Wh-where do you think you’re going?”
Your jaw drops.
Gojo’s tone was hitched. Gojo’s tone was on the verge of ruins.
It was unsteady at the ends of his words- and there was a sort of crazed tinge to it—just like the rest of his body, Gojo’s voice was trembling. Wound tight and on the verge of breaking. For the most uncountable time tonight, he shovels his ravaged cock between the cute crevice of your pussylips- and finds himself letting out an agonized whimper.
“Fuh-fuck.” The frat president is letting out. Tail curling ‘round your right calf to prevent you from running any further, tears breaking out across his cheeks. That muscular body of his was often the target of both admiration and envy: broad shoulders, slutty waist. There was so much power held in it as one of the apex hybrids on campus—and yet, right now it was clamoring up onto yours and damn-near collapsing. “Fuck- fuck- fuck.”
Every profanity was punctuated with a torturous drag of his cock inside you. Beneath him, you’re supported only with a single arm of his hooked underneath your stomach- getting thrown ‘round by the sheer force of his thrusts.
It’s been like this for hours since he’d gotten back.
And by now, Gojo was completely and utterly overstimulated.
But there was no way he was stopping any time soon. Not when you were…
“In heat.”
“Satoru, I told you I’m human—oh.” The way his round, ruby-red tip was entering your walls…there was just no way to describe it. There was nothing to compare to how he’d thrust apart your gluey channel and poke that one spot he knew you loved so much. And with a wretched mewl, you’re bucking back into his body. “H-humans don’t have heats, silly.”
His sharpened canines drag across the expanse of shoulder once he dips his head, cat-like ears twitching. “Then what’s that sweetness I smell?”
As if to emphasize his point, Gojo takes a looooong heave.
Nostrils flaring. Eyes growing wilder the more he’s taking in the saturated air- to him, it was an addicting combination of sex, sweat, and something sweet.
Something he couldn’t describe.
Something that befogged his mind and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. A carnal shiver wracks through him.
And it’s not long before his bludgeoning tip empties out a few more ribbons of precum- it’s enough to make warmth seep into your belly. Arousal pangs through your body, and it’s just then that Gojo lurches his head up and looks at you with primal eyes. “See- there. There.” Yet another ravenous push to the back of your pussy. His ears listen for the sloppy songs your pussy was givin’ off. “Your heat just got stronger. Do that again, sweetheart—I’m begging you, do that again for your Toru.”
“I-I don’t even know what you mean- fuck, that feels good.” You yelp.
“Do it again—do I have to get on my knees…?” And after a few more thrusts, he’s emanating out a low chuckle - he really is Gojo, after all. “Well, I guess I already am on my knees.” Knees that were currently being chafed with the constant back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
“You need to shut up and- oh, believe me when I say I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Though you certainly weren’t complaining about the utterly feral way he was fucking you. “I think you’re just in rut- mmpf.”
He’s plastering one of his sweaty palms over your mouth.
And then the two of you are falling backwards; Gojo’s sitting back on his haunches, upright, and taking you with him. He pounds away up into you as he remains seated kneeling—the erect length of his cock splittin’ your pussy apart so deliciously.
Underneath his hand, your maw drops into a lecherous ‘oh’ that makes Gojo remove his palm. And then he wastes no time spittin’ into it.
Watching as his gentle wad reaches deep into your gullet.
The snow leopard hybrid purrs as you babble in response- his deep vibrations thrumming through your body. With the accelerating pace of his hips, you’re merely growing even wetter - sloppily so - and Gojo’s practically drowning in his ecstasy as the scented air intensifies. As it takes over his entire body—practically speaks to him at a lesser, more base level. “These past few days…oh, these past few days I’ve been sensing it building up.”
The past few days? “Sh-shiiiiit.” You’re keening as his clawed hand slides down to press on your stomach- where his thickened cock was spearheading constantly.
“I’ve been smelling it on me- I’ve been jerking myself off to it thinking that it was one of your new perfumes.” And you’re unsure whether it was because of how pussydrunk he was, or purely because this was Gojo Satoru, but he doesn’t show even the slightest speck of abashment when admitting this. “And come to think of it…it’s just your heat, my girl.”
Pushing down even harder- massaging where his bulbous tip edged along your g-spot.
“This pussy’s just been yearning f’me - I can practically hear her yowling for my cock.”
“I’m c-close—” You babble out.
Gojo’s large, fluffy tail wraps around your waist to hold you better to him.
“Oh, what a coincidence. That’s what- hah, she’s sayin’ too.” And with a few more vicious probes into your sweetest spots, you’re propelled into your high n’ Gojo’s fucking you through it maddeningly. He isn’t thrown off by the way you’re splashin’ down his thick thighs.
Squirting.
In great, torrential waves of your orgasm.
It’s coming out in a glittery sheen- down between your legs and plastering across his own skin. Those areas of slammin’ contact between your two bodies are even louder now—plap-plap-plapping as Gojo fucks you through your high.
Every peak and stride. Eeeeveery single height of bliss that sends dopamine pouring into your veins. Somehow, he’s managing to maze his cock into eeeevery single sweet spot you loved- and that’s elongating your orgasm until you’re in tears. “Please- fuh-fuuuuck, just like that. Just like that, just like that- oh, ngh—”
“Make a mess- make a fucking mess, sweetheart.”
“It’s too much- oh.” Back arching. Toes curling. Your heartbeat pounds in your eardrums- and you’re so far gone that you almost don’t notice the way that Gojo himself is cumming.
Though if you’re soaking him, he’s cumming dry - the tip of his irritated shaft twitches like he’s pumping out wads of seed. But what really comes out is…nothing.
Though Gojo really does feel the waves of pleasure that overtake him, even though he’s cumming dry. He’s clenching his pretty eyes shut, he’s letting his mouth quiver- just the cutest whimpers of your name escaping him as your boyfriend keeps rammin’ away his orgasm into you.
So overstimulated.
Gojo lovingly pats your quiverin’ pussy.
“And it’s all thanks to this- hah, heat here.” Gojo murmurs, his fuzzy hybrid tail briefly spankin’ down on your sopping slit before he moves it away. “Managed to make my girl squirt.”
“Heat…” Your nose crinkles, “I really don’t get why you think I’ve been in heat these past few- oh.”
Oh.
It hits you like a semi-truck.
“Satoru, did you mean my ovulation?”
The snow leopard hybrid considers this as he starts buckin’ into a whole new round.
“Ovulation…” Gojo whispers to himself- like a prayer. “Ovulation and I are gonna be besties.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Sssstudy time.
Hybrid type: Dendroaspis polylepis
You couldn’t focus.
Maybe it was due to the column of assignments that you’d been (quite irresponsibly) been putting off; maybe it was due to the fact that your snake hybrid boyfriend was staying over and a bit too much of a…distraction.
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even doing anything—Higuruma Hiromi sat quietly at the foot of your bed, leafing through the pages of a law textbook that you’re sure he’d already memorized from cover to cover. Unlike you, the law professor didn’t need to rush through assignments - which meant he was particularly ruthless when handing them out.
A forbidden relationship.
A secret.
The hybrid professor was amongst the most ogled-at on campus.
And it’d taken an entire semester of your prettiest skirts and your flirtiest one-liners during tutoring lessons before Higuruma had finally gone against his personal code to ask you out.
But only after you’d moved on from his class.
And it seems that dating a law professor didn’t give you an edge- but then again, you didn’t start dating him for the edge at all.
Higuruma Hiromi was just too attractive. And smart. And gentlemanly. And hiding a sense of witty humor he rarely revealed to anyone but you.
And it was making you stray your eyes away from the utterly droll except on the rules of estate inheritance. But who could blame you? The man of thirty-two sat with his sternly handsome features pinched into something focused; sleeves of his button-up pushed to his elbows, slivers of his skin somewhat scaly, dark eyes examining the page in a way that made you squirm…
He’d never interrupt your studying. But then again he didn’t have to try.
You sigh.
Law degrees were hard.
Higuruma doesn’t look up from his textbook, “Sssomething the matter, angel?”
“Nothing.” You counter- before realizing that lying to the best lawyer in Tokyo probably wasn’t the smartest idea. “It’s just…I can’t seem to focus.”
“Oh. Why’s that?” He looks at you with his brows furrowed in concern.
You—you want to say. It’s solely because of him that you couldn’t focus.
Not when he’s sitting there so close, and so attractive, and so irresistible- honestly who in their right mind would be able to focus on land disputes and things when it comes to something like this? And though you don’t verbalize your thoughts, you’re sure a part of it shows on your expression.
Because without another word, Higuruma sets his book down on the bed—leaning ever-so-slightly backwards and opening his thick thighs up invitingly. You don’t have to wait for him to reach his arms out and beckon you forwards- you’re already getting up and gladly leaving your assignments behind. “Come here, sssugar. Let me teach you how to focus.”
In just about no time, your clothes are hitting the floor.
As they seem wont to do whenever you’re around him…
But nonetheless, Higuruma soon as your legs positioned atop his bulky shoulders - slightly unsteady given the semi-scaled surface of his skin.
Back arched. Cunt dripping all over the freshly-washed sheets.
Higuruma meets the front of your cunt with his thickened tip, swipin’ it up and down the line of your folds. Dripping wet—you’re letting out the most delicious wet noises once he’s teasing your entrance- just barely probing his swollen cockhead inside, then out…watching as your hole seems to gape and clench around nothing—
In. Then out.
In. Then out.
Before you’re growing far too impatient with his toying- and you’re bucking up deftly into him. “Hiromi, just fuck me already…”
“Just fuck you already?” He tuts, though you could hear the faint amusement in his tone. And then the hybrid’s swatting down two smooth slaps right between your pussylips- making your moans strangle in your throat. “How impatient. It seems I have more to teach you about focus and patience than I thought.”
“Fuck.”
And then he’s smiling down lovingly at you.
Perking his head up, Higuruma reaches up and grabs something off the headboard.
And whilst you’re concentrating on not ogling his forearm muscles too much, he’s producing that jet-black tie of his that’d been thrown off in the hassle to strip yourselves of your clothes. As you watch him in slight confusion, Higuruma nods his head reassuringly down at you - and ties the silk fabric around your eyes.
A blindfold.
“Easy there.” He comforts in that warm baritone of his. You knew that he’d never do anything you didn’t want to do; and seeing him break that cold facade for you was one of your favorite parts about this.
Higuruma was running his hands comfortingly down the sides of your body, he was making sure that blindfold wasn’t too tight—he was ultimately resting his slender fingers between your quivering thighs n’ rolling over your clit. “Eeeeeasy, my girl. Now focus.” You’re nodding before you even know what he’s about to say- and that makes him smile. “I’ll be giving you one of my two cocks, and you have to guess which one it is, okay?”
Because there was another thing about snake hybrids: they had two cocks.
Long and rock-hard. Higuruma’s were blushed the prettiest rouge on his tips- stacked on one top of the other, they were both drivelling out ribbons of precum at the impatience to get inside you. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the lesson he was drilling into you, but oh…
“Oh, f-fuuuuuck.” Soon enough - even though you can’t see him - you can feel the rotund intrusion of one of his tips. Piercing between your swollen lips and pressing deeper inside.
Deeper and deeper.
It doesn’t take long before Higuruma’s punctuating your goopy insides with thorough, passionate strokes. He just loved sweeping across every sweet spot inside you until it left you speechless—lingerin’ that hot tip of his where your g-spot was, and then lingering on your cervix. Repeatedly, he’s hitting the thoughts out of your mind; though…that’s not entirely what tonight was about, was it?
“Now now…” You’re feeling two gentle slaps to the left side of your face. “Don’t get too fucked stupid already, angel. Focus. Which one is this? Upper or lower?”
“What- oh, fuck.” Whatever response was on the tip of your tongue is fucked away- by the indulged stripes he was drawing at the back of your pussy. Watery saliva pools in your mouth as you feel the stretch of your walls—almost to their limits. “Fuck, it feels so good, Hiro-”
Another slight spank. “I’m teaching you a lesson right now, angel. You refer to me as sssir-”
“Sir-”
“No…” Squeezing at your clit with his other hand.
Startling you. Suddenly making you buck. It makes you bellow out without even trying—“I s-said it feels so good- ngh, sssir.” Slurring your words.
Though that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Good.” And you could practically hear the smile in his words. Though Higuruma doesn’t let up so easily- in fact, he’s doing the complete opposite. “That’s how you need to focus.”
Another small slap to your cheeks, a little harder this time.
You keen.
“Upper or lower, sssugar?” He hisses.
You’re gasping for air. “I-I—”
And Higuruma being a snake hybrid meant that his mushroomy tip would be flared even larger than most hybrid species or even humans. It was the perfect shape: curved upwards, patterned with numerous veins and ridges. The area above his slit was the most delicious mechanism to drag across your inside and drive you absolutely wiiiiild.
And soon enough, you’re bucking up with a moan. “Upper….no, ngh! Lower?” Honestly, it was enough of a feat that you could speak with the way he was ruining your insides so well.
“Wrong.” Higuruma responds simply.
And then you’re feeling him slap your sweaty cheeks- and then plant a harder one down on your incorrect pussy. Before the snake hybrid reels his pelvis backwards—back and back, all the way backwards before his swollen tip is pulling out of your hole with an audible pop! And then funneling back in again.
“Upper or lower?” Higuruma asks once more.
By deduction through logic, you’re gasping- “Lower-”
“Wrong again.”
It was just so cute how your mouth drops at that very second - and the older man can’t help but lean down and give that gaping maw of yours a lil’ slap, too. Just a little punishment.
Before he’s coursing in even harder strokes—more merciless. He was molding your soft insides to the shape of him - both of him - and it made your toes curl just how mean he was being with your body right now. His heavy balls enunciating each thrust with a thwack-thwack-thwack!
How lecherous.
Higuruma alternates between his two lengths at a frenzied pace, dippin’ each one in and out. “Upper or lower?”
“Upp-”
Thwack!
“Upper or lower?”
“I don’t…ngh.” Tears glisten in your eyes and even through the blindfold. “Lower—”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Higuruma ultimately husks out in a lowered tone, “Focus.” Hips brushing yours so hard that it was starting to sting with unyielding contact. “Get this one wrong, angel…and you’re not cumming a sssingle time tonight.”
You whimper, “P-please…”
But that’s not enough to make him take mercy on you—for Higuruma pushes his rugged tip back out with a drawn-out wet sound. And then he’s making you guess once more-
“Upper or lower?”
You’re furrowing your brows underneath the blindfold. You’re squeezing your thighs even harder around his waist in an attempt to feel him better. Hell, you’re even arching your back off the dampened mattress and giving his pistoning cock a good, long squeeeeze—
Scrambling whatever rationality was left within your brain to try and compare the feeling - the length, the upright curve, the thrumming veins - of this shaft relative to the other.
And the answer finally bestows upon you, “Is this…your upper?”
Then he hones out a thrust so loud it slams!
“Correct.”
And for your prize, you’re getting the blindfold taken off you—and the first thing you see is Higuruma’s flushed, handsome face. The second thing you see is his sudden intrusion: hips drawing even closer to yours, he somehow manages to swipe n’ stuff both aching tips inside your hole.
“Now let’s see if you can focus with both.”
♡ IEIRI SHOKO - Cream XOXO
Hybrid type: Felis catus
“Hmmm…” Dr. Ieiri Shoko removes the ear tips of the stethoscope and lets the medical instrument hang from her neck. The clinic’s faux-leather chair squeaks as she sits back; hands crossing in front of her and pinning you down with her deep, intelligent eyes.
You squirm on the examination table.
Something knowing twinkles in her gaze.
Perhaps due to the fact that you’ve been dropping by Shoko’s clinic every other day at this point—as the newest-hired teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, it was inevitable that you’d be seeing a few more injuries or a bit more cursed energy exhaustion than someone more experienced like Professor Yaga. But this…this was almost getting ridiculous.
And you knew it, after all.
You were the one going there on purpose.
The first time you saw Ieiri Shoko, it was in your first week as a teacher; you’d gotten cut whilst training one of the students. And though your reverse cursed technique was in perfect condition, it seems that the cursed nature of the weapon made it harder for you to counter the damage - and so you’d wound up in the infirmary after a nasty faint.
Waking up to…an angel.
Or so you’d thought.
Tired eyes. A mole at the corner of her eye.
A cigarette sticking out from the side of her mouth- were those even allowed on campus? And sleek, brown cat ears sticking out from her head.
“That’s one way to be introduced.” She’d droned out in her steady voice.
And after that…day after day, your mind kept thinking back to the cat hybrid. Your mind kept conjuring up all sorts of excuses that might allow you to go down to the clinic after classes—
It would be strange to just show up, right?!
Especially since you didn’t know her that long…and thus came the excuses of a stomach ache, of a headache, of a cut that suspiciously vanished once you actually spoke to her. Must’ve been something jujutsu-related, right?
And she took it all in stride.
Which made you think that Shoko actually didn’t mind your intrusions with some made-up disease and a homemade lunch for the two of you to split.
Thus, you were here today.
Squirming as you buttoned up your uniform - it was a potential heart murmur this time…sometimes you had to get creative you suppose - and wondering how to ask the pretty doctor out for lunch. There was this cute new café that opened up down the street, and they were said to have pretty good beer that-
“I counted your heartbeat, y’know.” Shoko says suddenly, drawing your attention. She looks at you with an unreadable gaze- though not unkind. “It was 102 beats per minute.”
“O-oh…” You wondered how you were going to explain that away—“It must’ve been-”
“Innocent murmurs don’t cause heart beats to raise- and in any case, you don’t have one.” She crosses her arms and takes you in your half-dressed state; legs crossing, tail swishing. “You don’t have to make up excuses to see me, y’know? You can just come by whenever you want.”
Damn those cat hybrids- they were always so alluring without even meaning to be.
Unsure what to say, you’re sure you’re sputtering out some pathetic amalgamation of excuses and assurances that you’ll heed her advice next time—heart racing, body heating up, your hands rushing up to button your blouse to regain some dignity, at least…
“Don’t.”
Only to be stopped by the woman of your dreams herself.
Shoko’s gaze was feline, “I like it like that.”
Less than five minutes later, she has you laid-out on the examination table once more. Hoverin’ in the space between your open legs as laps and laps your drippin’ wet pussy.
Her tongue was so looooong and flexible—swirling a few times over your swollen clit before dipping in and out of your hole. So sloppily; she’s making out with the tender edges of your pussy, lipstick smearing everywhere and anywhere she was reaching.
“O-ohhh…” Your back arches against the cool surface of the examination table. Hands grasping bare air. “It feels so good, Sho, keep going.”
And with something that sounds akin to a sensual chuckle- Shoko reaches out and intertwines her fingers with yours midair. You’re just taking the time to admire the beauty in her fingers—so competent in what she does, and painted in a pale lavender. Everything about her was so pretty…
And just as soon as you do - it’s as if she’s reading your mind.
For one set of her fingers guide your own hands to hold onto her head- your hands smoothing down her long hair, scratching behind her twitching cat ears. And the other set of her fingers are stuffin’ your awaiting pussy—teasing apart your elastic entrance and running her smooth fingertips along her walls. “Stay still now, kitty.”
“H-how—?” That was practically impossible when two of her slender digits were rovering inside. So smooth. So steady. She was easing in your first ring of muscle before mazing in deeeeep. “N-not when it feels this good, ngh.”
“I said stay.” She commands, in a slightly more serious tone. Pulling out and slapping your clit in punishment.
And though you’re whimpering in defiance, you follow her words.
Seeing as you’re listening to her, vibrations start running from your core- it takes you a second to realize that Shoko was purring. Mouth curved. Eyes half-lidded - like the cat that got the cream. As a little apology for the spank from earlier, the cat hybrid leans down and gives an open-mouthed kiss onto your clit.
“Good girl.” She hums. “Patients should stay still until they’re feeling better.”
You sputter, “B-but you said I don’t have a-”
“You don’t.” Shoko affirms. She nods a little bit, and that ends up pressing the tip of her nose against your clit- so sensitive that you’re bucking up into her instantly.
Just as quickly, you’re feeling her cold fingertips pang down once more.
“Now what did I say?” Tutting. Shoko might have been the most laid-back doctor you’ve been to in your entire life—but now you see that all the normal sternness went to her in bed. It went into the way she’s spankin’ your pussy three more times - thwack-thwack-thwack - once you’re not replying fast enough for her.
And you’re just barely hanging on- just barely able to babble out. “Y-you said to stay still- ngh, fuck.”
“Hm, I’d call you a good girl for that—” Smile plastered against your sopping wet lips. “-but we both know that’s not true.”
And then she’s roving her digits into sweet spots you hadn’t even known existed- the doctor knew exactly where to hit. In but a mere few strokes, she’d mapped out your cunt as if she’s been eating you out for yeeeeears—and then attaching herself to your clit and hollowing her cheeks sucking as though she hasn’t had a single proper meal in years.
The stimulation is so much- she’s hooking two fingers into the area of your g-spot and you’re immediately bucking. Only to get Shoko’s glossy tail hooked around one of your ankles and ruthlessly plopping you back down-
You weren’t moving a single inch when she was having her lunch break.
“Might just be the worst patient I’ve ever had-” Catching your eye, she reassures with a slick-glistening smile. “Don’t worry, you’re the only patient I’ve given special treatment to like this.”
“Th-thank goodness.”
Yet another spank. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the worst. Stay fuckin’ still.”
With a whimper, you’re just taking it.
Every push, every throb, every plunge of her expert hands. But you think her favorite part might be how she kept rollin’ her tongue over your plump, puckered clit - pushing aside your bloated folds and just nagging at it as if it was the sweetest candy.
Shoko kept her lips glued to your pussy, and was tugging and draaaaagging your clit with her teeth—until you were basically numb with pleasure. She’s barely coming up for air.
And once that starstruck expression crosses your face, she’s gurgling out a few giggles. “Atta girl.” A single spank- just to keep you on the edge. “Acting good for me now? Maybe you’re all cured.”
“M-maybe…” You still didn’t even know what she was diagnosing you with-
“Lying.” For a second there, you think that Shoko’s just read your mind—and then, belatedly, you’re realizing that you’d just blabbered those words out loud. So much lustful need coiled around your brain that you were just keening-
“I-I only lied to see you-”
Another spank. “And that’s still lying, isn’t it?”
“I guess—oh.” Another two spanks. Harder, this time.
“Wasting a doctor’s time. Taking up precious resources.” In fact, the best part of her day was seeing your gorgeous face- but every stinging word only left you wetter. And mockingly, Shoko’s shaking her head in disapproval and lappin’ even more fervently at the sweetness of your pussy. That tongue of hers…it was indescribable. “I should be kicking you out of my clinic.”
“No!” You gasp. “Anything but that-”
Yet another spank. Lingering, now.
“What was that?”
You sob, “I-I’m not gonna lie again, Dr. Shoko.”
“Good.” She grins, “Now for something to tamper that sexiness of yours.”
And as she’s hiding her smile between your legs- you’re exploding straight into your high. It’s like nothing you’ve ever encountered before—long and drawn-out, the peaks of your orgasm get even stronger every time she hits your favorite spot. Again and again.
Probe after probe.
Like the manicured tops of her fingertips were magnetized to your bundles of nerves.
Calculating between those peaks, she manages to increase the pressure on your pussy right when it hits the most. Dragging you back by her tail and purring as she nibbles on your clit.
“That’s right.” She mutters. “Cum all over the doctor’s face.”
You’re fully wrung out by the time she’s done with you- and Shoko’s ready to move away with a victorious smile. But before she can do so, you reach out and grab onto her white coat—
︵ ೀ mdni. yuji dreaming of megumi and you together and now he gets all flustered when the two of you are around ( part one / part two )
it happened again a few days later.
the three of you were in the dorm kitchen after training, exhausted and sweaty. you were reaching up to grab glasses from the top shelf when megumi stepped behind you without thinking. his chest brushed lightly against your back as he easily plucked three glasses from the shelf and handed them to you.
“thanks, megumi,” you said with a bright smile, turning to face him.
his hand lingered for a second on your waist to steady you, a casual, instinctive touch. nothing inappropriate. just megumi being megumi—helpful and a little protective. but yuji, leaning against the counter, had this feeling in his stomach again.
that simple touch sent his mind spiraling right back to the dream. he couldn’t stop picturing megumi’s hands sliding lower, slipping under your shirt, those long fingers disappearing between your thighs while you moaned into his mouth. yuji’s face burned. he gripped the edge of the counter a little too tightly.
you noticed almost immediately. “babe?” you set the glasses down and stepped closer to him, tilting your head. “you’ve been quiet since we got back. what’s wrong?”
yuji froze. his heart hammered against his ribs. “n-nothing! i’m good.”
megumi glanced over, one eyebrow slightly raised, but said nothing.
you didn’t look convinced. you reached up and gently brushed yuji’s bangs out of his eyes, your touch so soft it made his chest ache. “you sure? you can tell me anything, you know that.”
yuji swallowed hard. he opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. his cheeks were burning crimson. for a long moment he just stared at you, then his eyes flicked nervously toward megumi, who was pretending to be very focused on pouring water. finally, the words burst out of him before he could stop them.
“i… i want to see you and megumi kiss.”
the kitchen went completely silent.
you blinked. megumi froze mid-pour, water spilling slightly over the rim of the glass.
yuji wanted to die. he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i mean— you don’t have to! it’s just… i keep thinking about it. the two of you together. it makes me feel… really warm. and kind of crazy. in a good way.”
he looked between you and megumi, eyes wide and cheeks flushed all the way to his ears. “i know it’s weird,” he added quickly, voice getting smaller. “but i can’t stop thinking about it. you both mean so much to me… and the idea of you two kissing… it doesn’t feel wrong to me. it feels… right.”
he stared at the floor, heart pounding, terrified he’d just ruined everything. you and megumi exchanged a long look. yuji swallowed.
“…sorry,” he mumbled. “i shouldn’t have said anything.”
the silence that followed was deafening. yuji wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. his face was burning, ears bright red as he stared intensely at the kitchen floor. you and megumi were both staring at him.
megumi’s expression was unreadable at first but then his eyes widened just slightly, a faint flush creeping up his neck.
you were the first to speak. “…you want us to kiss?” you asked softly.
yuji nodded quickly, too embarrassed to look at either of you. “i know it sounds crazy. but i keep thinking about it. the two of you… together. it doesn’t make me jealous. it makes me feel… warm. really warm. like my chest is going to explode in a good way.”
he finally dared to glance up. megumi was looking at him now, dark eyes steady but clearly processing. you stepped closer and gently took yuji’s hand.
“babe,” you said carefully, “are you sure that’s what you want? you’re not just saying it because you think it’ll make us happy?”
yuji shook his head. “no. i mean— yes, I want you both to be happy. but… i really do want to see it. i’ve been dreaming about it. not just innocent stuff either.”
the last part came out as a mumble. megumi’s eyebrows shot up.
you bit your lip, clearly thinking. then you looked over at megumi, a small, curious smile forming on your face. “what do you think, megumi?”
megumi stayed quiet for a long moment. finally, he set the glass down and exhaled through his nose. “…i wouldn’t mind,” he said quietly, almost too casually. but the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him.
yuji’s heart skipped several beats.
you turned back to yuji, still holding his hand. “if we do this… you’re okay with it? no weird feelings afterwards?”
yuji nodded so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “i promise. i just… i want to watch. at least once.”
the air in the kitchen felt heavier now, warmer. you glanced at megumi again, then back at your boyfriend. slowly, you stepped toward megumi, who straightened up, looking slightly tense but not unwilling.
you placed a hand on megumi’s chest and leaned in. megumi hesitated for half a second before tilting his head down. then your lips met softly.
it was gentle at first—careful, almost testing. but then megumi’s hand came up to rest lightly on your waist, and the kiss deepened just a little. you made a quiet sound against his mouth that sent electricity shooting down yuji’s spine.
yuji couldn’t look away. his breath caught in his throat, heart hammering wildly as he watched his girlfriend kiss his best friend right in front of him.
when you finally pulled back, both you and Megumi were slightly flushed. you turned to look at yuji, his eyes sparkling. “…how was that?” you asked softly.
yuji stared at the two of you, lips parted, face burning crimson. he could only manage one breathless word: “…again.”
the kitchen fell quiet for a moment once more. you and megumi both froze, eyes meeting each other in a brief pause. a silent question passed between you. megumi’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, but he didn’t move, waiting. your heart hammered in your chest as you searched his face.
then, slowly, megumi leaned in again.
you met him halfway.
this time the kiss was deeper, with more hunger, like he had been holding back for too long. his fingers pressed into your waist as he tilted his head, sliding his tongue against yours with surprising boldness. a soft, surprised sound left your throat, which only seemed to encourage him.
he kissed you like he was starving.
his other hand came up to cup the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw as he pulled you closer. the kiss grew hotter, wetter. megumi made a quiet noise against your mouth, almost a groan, as he sucked gently on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue back in.
yuji’s breath hitched loudly. he couldn’t look away. his face was burning as he watched his best friend kiss you like he wanted to devour you—slow, deep, and getting greedier with every second.
megumi pressed you back against the counter, his body flush against yours. one of his hands slid down to grip your hip, pulling you tighter as the kiss turned messy, completely lost in it now while yuji was breathing hard, eyes wide.
his cock strained painfully against his sweatpants, throbbing with every wet sound of your lips moving together. he couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts crashing through his mind.
he wished megumi would push you harder against the counter. he wished he’d slide his hand under your shirt and grope your tits the way yuji had imagined so many times. he wanted to see megumi bite your neck, suck marks into your skin, shove his thigh between your legs and grind against you until you were whimpering and soaked.
the thought made yuji’s mouth go dry. he imagined megumi dropping to his knees right there in the kitchen, pulling your shorts down and burying his face between your thighs while you moaned into yuji’s mouth. he wanted to watch his best friend make you cum, fingers deep inside you, tongue licking greedily at your clit.
“fuck…” yuji whispered under his breath, barely audible. his hand unconsciously pressed against his aching cock, trying to ease some of the pressure as he watched megumi kiss you deeper, hungrier.
he loved this. loved seeing you like this—flushed, wanted, desired. especially by megumi. his two favorite people.
when megumi finally pulled back for air, his lips were red and swollen and his breathing uneven. he stared at your mouth like he wanted to kiss you again immediately.
“megumi…” you whispered, dazed.
he didn’t answer with words. instead he leaned in and kissed you once more, slower this time but no less intense, like he was savoring the taste of you. his hand stayed possessively on your hip while the other gently held your face.
when megumi pulled away again, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment, eyes closed, breathing shakily. “…that was—” he began but couldn’t finish. you let out a soft, breathless laugh.
yuji could barely speak. all he managed was a weak, awed whisper: “holy shit…” his heart was pounding so hard he felt dizzy and his cock was aching, pressing painfully against his sweatpants.
“megumi…” yuji’s voice came out rough. “don’t stop.” both you and megumi turned to look at him. “touch her more. please. i want to see you touch her. like… between her legs. i keep thinking about it. i want to see you make her cum.”
both you and megumi froze for a second. but megumi hesitated only for a moment before his gaze darkened. without a word, he looked back at you, silently asking for permission. when you gave a small, breathless nod, he didn’t waste time.
he brought two fingers to his mouth, licking them slowly, coating them with saliva while keeping his eyes on you. then his hand slid down your stomach and pushed boldly into your shorts and panties. his long, slick fingers found your soaked folds and rubbed over your clit before pressing two fingers inside you.
you gasped, immediately clinging to his shoulders. megumi leaned in and kissed you again, swallowing every sound as his fingers began moving—slow at first, then deeper, curling just right inside your tight heat.
“mmh—!” you moaned into his mouth, panting against his lips as he fingered you right there in the kitchen. the wet sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your soaked pussy filled the small space.
yuji let out a needy groan at the sight. his hand shoved into his sweatpants, wrapping around his aching cock as he started stroking himself. his eyes were glued between your legs, watching the silhouette of megumi’s fingers disappear inside you again and again.
“fuck… that’s so hot,” yuji whispered. he pumped his cock faster, breathing heavily as he watched you whimper and squirm against megumi. “megumi… curl your fingers more. she likes it when you hit that spot.”
megumi obeyed without question, curling his fingers deeper, rubbing that sensitive spot inside you like he’d already done it a million times. you cried out into his mouth, thighs trembling as you clenched hard around his fingers.
yuji’s hand moved quicker on his own cock, eyes half-lidded in pure bliss as he watched his best friend finger his girlfriend right in front of him.
“good girl…” yuji murmured breathlessly, completely lost in the scene. “let him make you cum, baby. i want to see it so bad.”
you cried out into megumi’s mouth, thighs shaking violently as his fingers curled perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you. the pressure built fast and overwhelming until you finally snapped.
“megumi—!” you moaned loudly, clenching hard around his fingers as your orgasm crashed through you. your hips jerked against his hand, pussy pulsing and gushing around his long digits while he kept stroking you through it, drawing out every last wave.
the moment your orgasm started to fade, megumi pulled his fingers out with a wet sound. before you could even catch your breath, he dropped to his knees right in front of you.
he yanked your shorts and panties down to your ankles. you barely had time to gasp before his mouth was on you, hot and eager. his tongue dragged slowly up your soaked folds before latching onto your sensitive clit.
“ah—! megumi— too much!” you whimpered, legs trembling as you gripped the counter for support.
but he didn’t stop. he sucked gently on your clit, then flicked his tongue rapidly over it, groaning against your pussy like he was addicted to your taste. the overstimulation hit you like electricity, making your hips twitch and jerk against his face. every stroke of his tongue sent sharp, overwhelming sparks through your body.
yuji was completely dizzy.
his hand was still wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking himself in shaky movements as he stared with wide, glassy eyes. the sight of his best friend on his knees, face buried between your thighs, licking and sucking on your oversensitive clit while you moaned and shook was almost too much for him to handle.
“fuck… megumi…” yuji breathed, voice hoarse and awed. his head felt light, cheeks burning crimson as he watched megumi devour you. “she’s so sensitive right now… look at her…”
megumi hummed against your clit in response, the vibration making you sob. he pressed his tongue flat against you, licking broad strokes before sucking on your clit again, completely lost in making you feel good.
yuji’s hand moved faster on his cock, breathing ragged as he watched your thighs tremble around megumi’s head. he looked completely drunk on the sight.
“you’re both so hot…” yuji whispered. “don’t stop, megumi… please don’t stop.”
then megumi pulled his mouth away from your dripping pussy. he rose to his feet, breathing heavily. without a word, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. it slapped against his stomach, flushed and leaking. you barely had time to catch your breath before he stepped close again, lifting one of your legs around his waist.
“shh,” he whispered against your ear as he lined himself up.
then he pushed in.
a loud moan started to leave your lips as he stretched you open in one smooth thrust, but megumi quickly covered your mouth with his hand, muffling the sound. his palm pressed firmly against your lips while he sank deeper, burying himself to the hilt.
your eyes rolled back at the sudden fullness.
at the exact same moment, yuji let out a choked groan. the sight of megumi’s cock disappearing inside you was too much for him. his hand stuttered on his cock as his orgasm hit him like a freight train.
“f-fuck—!” yuji whimpered, thighs shaking as thick ropes of cum spilled over his fist and onto his stomach. he kept stroking himself through it, eyes glued to where megumi was buried deep inside you.
his vision started to blur. the edges of the kitchen grew hazy, like he was looking through fogged glass, but he could still see megumi’s hips snapping forward, burying his cock deep inside you with every thrust. he could see the way your body jolted, your tits bouncing, your mouth open against megumi’s palm as you moaned helplessly.
more and more cum leaked out around megumi’s cock with every deep stroke, dripping down your thighs in shiny streaks. the sound of it echoed in yuji’s ears—the obscene squelch of megumi’s cock sliding through your soaked, cum-filled pussy.
yuji was barely able to focus anymore. everything felt like a fever dream. the only thing he could see clearly was megumi’s thick cock plunging in and out of you, pushing his own cum deeper inside your body with every thrust. more white leaked out, sliding down your skin, dripping onto the kitchen floor.
his hand kept moving on his cock, slow and sloppy now, milking every last drop as he watched the scene in front of him like it was the only thing real anymore.
yuji was panting hard, chest heaving, completely lost in the sight of his best friend fucking his girlfriend while his own cum continued to spill uselessly over his fingers. he never wanted it to end.
but then everything shattered.
yuji’s eyes snapped open.
he was in his own bed, chest heaving, body covered in a thin layer of sweat. his heart was pounding violently as reality slowly sank in.
it had been another dream.
just a dream.
his cock was still twitching weakly, completely spent. he could feel the warm, sticky mess inside his boxers and sweatpants. he had cum hard in his sleep again. the front of his pants was soaked through.
yuji groaned softly, throwing one arm over his face. his cheeks burned as the images from the dream flashed through his mind: megumi’s hand over your mouth, the way you moaned against his palm, the wet sound of megumi thrusting into you…
“fuck…” he whispered to himself.
he lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. the ache in his chest was back. his two favorite people. the thought of you two together made him feel so full and so filthy at the same time.
he slowly sat up, wincing at the cold, wet feeling in his pants. another ruined pair. this was becoming a problem.
he wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you and megumi the truth. if he would ever stop just dreaming about it… and actually ask.
for now, he just sighed, peeling off his ruined sweatpants with a tired, embarrassed little smile. “this is getting ridiculous…” he muttered. but deep down, he already knew he’d probably dream about it again tomorrow.
SYNOPSIS — (req) mark comes back after his mission but something is off about him…
CONTENT — 18+ minors dni | sex pollen, shower sex, established relationship, technically dub con because of sex pollen but you want each other either way, pet names (baby, sweetheart), hand job, oral (f! receiving), light choking, cum eating? nipple play, biting, marking, light dirty talk? mating press, doggy position, cowgirl position, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie. let me know if i’ve missed anything!
WC — 5.4k
NOTE — i mean… my username is lovee-potions
MASTERLIST | REQUEST
The room was quiet in that restless, too-late kind of way, where every little sound seemed louder than it should have been. The street outside had long since gone still, the light from the window spilling thin stripes across the blankets, but you still couldn’t sleep.
Your sheets were twisted around your legs, warm but uncomfortable, as you stared at the ceiling—trying to force your mind to focus on anything but Mark. Count the cracks in the paint. Listen to the hum of the heater. Focus on the soft rustle of the sheets when you shifted your legs. None of it helped. Every time your eyes closed, your thoughts went right back to him.
You turned onto your side, then your other side, then back again. Rolling onto your stomach, you buried your face in the pillow with a frustrated sigh. The clock on your bedside table glowed with an unforgiving brightness: 2:43AM. You reached for your phone for the third time in ten minutes, half-hoping for a message and half-afraid of what it might say. Nothing. Still nothing.
You hugged the phone to your chest for a second before setting it back on the nightstand, then sat up and rubbed at your face. Your eyes felt heavy, but your body was all nerves, like it had forgotten how to relax. You pulled your knees up under the blankets and stared at the dark window.
Mark would probably hate seeing you like this. He always got this soft, guilty look when he realised you’d been worrying about him. He never liked making you wait. He never liked the fear in your voice when you asked if he was okay.
A sudden sound outside the window made you freeze. Your whole body went tense, heart jumping into your throat, and you were halfway out of bed before you realised it was only the wind brushing the tree branches against the glass. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding and sank back onto the mattress, embarrassed even though no one was there.
After a moment, you reached over and switched on the small lamp beside the bed. The warm light filled the room just enough to make the shadows less sharp. You looked around at the little pieces of Mark that had somehow ended up in your room over time: the hoodie he’d left behind, folded over the chair; the spare comic he’d shoved into your bookshelf because he swore you ‘had to read it’; the stupid souvenir he’d bought on a date and forgotten to take back.
You exhaled slowly, standing once again and heading to the bathroom. The light was harsh at first, making you squint as you flicked it on. You reached for the shower, turning the water on and letting it run as steam slowly began to fill the room.
You caught your reflection in the mirror as you began to undress—the bags under your eyes making you grimace. You stepped under the warm water and let it hit your shoulders, your back, your face—letting the heat sink into the tight places in your body.
For a little while, you focused only on the feeling of it, on the rhythm of the water, on the simple act of breathing until your lungs stopped catching. You pressed your palms against the tile and closed your eyes, trying to wash away the fear that kept circling back.
You tried not to think. Tried not to imagine where he was, what he was doing, whether he was hurt. You were still deep in thought, still caught up in the same loop of dread, running through every possibility your mind could invent. You didn’t hear the bathroom door open, nor the soft rustling of clothes hitting the floor.
You didn’t register the shower door opening and closing until strong arms slipped around your waist that your whole body jolted in surprise, and before you could even turn your head, Mark was there, pressing himself close against your back.
His hold tightened just slightly, like he was making sure you were real. Like he needed to feel you there as much as you needed to feel him. One of his hands rested over your stomach, his thumb moving in a small, absent circle, and when he finally lifted his head, you could hear the tiredness in his voice.
“Missed you,” he murmured, placing a soft kiss against your pulse point.
“Mark?” you gasped, your hands immediately coming up as you turned in his arms.
Your eyes moved over him quickly, taking in everything at once. His skin was flushed, a deep heat radiating off him that you could feel even without touching. There was a faint sheen of sweat along his forehead, trailing down the side of his neck, catching along his collarbone. His chest rose and fell unevenly, each breath just a little too fast, a little too sharp.
“Mark…” you said again, softer now, your hands shifting from his shoulders to cup his face, then sliding down to his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall beneath your palm. “Hey—slow down. Breathe.”
He let out a shaky breath at that, almost like he hadn’t realised how hard he was breathing until you said it. His forehead dropped forward, resting briefly against yours, his eyes closing as he tried to steady himself.
“I—” he started, voice catching slightly before he swallowed it down.
Your brows pulled together, worry tightening in your chest again. “What’s going on?” you asked, searching his face. “Are you injured?”
“No, I—fuck—” Mark tried again, the word slipping out under his breath as his grip on your waist tightened. He swallowed hard, jaw clenching slightly. “It hurts.”
Your stomach dropped. “What hurts? I thought you said you weren’t injured—”
“I’m not injured,” he cut in quickly, his voice rougher now—strained in a way you weren’t used to hearing from him. Like he was trying to explain something he didn’t have the words for. Like even he didn’t fully understand it.
You blinked at him, frustration flickering through the concern. “What? Mark? I dont… You’re really confusing me right now,” you sighed, your hands still resting against him, grounding but unsure.
Mark shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck and dropping his gaze. He let out a weak exhale before glancing back up at you and gesturing downwards. “It hurts.”
Your eyes followed his motion, and cursed yourself for not noticing sooner. He was hard. Painfully so. Mark kept his gaze on yours as you gave him an up down and had the audacity to look sheepish. He ran a weak hand through his wet hair before letting it fall back down to his side where it tapped nervously against his leg.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life,” he said exasperatedly.
“Okay, ouch,” you teased, tracing your fingers down his chest, past his stomach and down to the tuft of hair trailing to his base until you wrapped a hand around his cock, savouring how he throbbed under your palm. “What have I been doing wrong?”
Mark groaned at that, seemingly torn between frustration and amusement. He threw his head back against the tiles, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, “No—not like—you know what I mean—its that stupid alien thing—”
“What ‘stupid alien thing’?” you wondered, moving your hand down and teasingly trailing your fingernails over the skin of his balls.
The sensation made him cry out, his cock jerking hard against his stomach. His eyes fluttered shut for a brief second as he tried to keep his composure—his chest rising and falling a little faster with each second that passed.
“There was an object… some kind of relic, I think,” he tried to explain, gulping back a groan. “It gave me this… I dunno, headache, and I thought everything was fine but now—”
“You’re aroused?” you questioned, wrapping your hand back around his base.
“Yeah,” he rasped out after a second. “F-fuck—I—”
“So you inhaled some aphrodisiac?” you laughed softly, slowly moving your hand.
He dragged both hands down his face with a groan that sounded like it had been ripped from his soul. Mark's thighs trembled, his hips thrusting up helplessly into your touch. He was trying, and failing, to keep himself under control, his hands clenching into trembling fists at his sides.
You gave your hand one particular tug and he whined loudly. His tip was flushed an angry-red, glistening and soaked with his precum. The vein along the underside of his length pulsed dangerously each time your thumb slit along the slit in his tip.
“You—you don’t have to do this,” he said, teeth clamped down hard on his lip. “I can wait—oh fuck—I can wait it out…”
“No you can’t, Mark,” you swallowed, your thighs pressing together on their own accord. “You’re in pain. I want to help. I want to make you feel better.”
With one hand firm at his base, your other hand picked up the speed around the head of him. His hips jolted as he fucked himself into your fist. He moaned your name, causing your heart to stutter in your chest at the low, needy sound.
“I’m sorry. I—I’m so sorry… this… please,” Mark groaned out your name. “I’ll—just like that.”
He panted, drawing in gasps of air, and babbled mindlessly. His hips continued to jerk into your hand, unable to help himself, lost to the pleasure. One of his hands came up to the junction of your jaw, pulling your lips onto his.
He took your breath away with how deeply he kissed you. it was incessant, all tongue and teeth. But you let him have his way with you—whatever he needed to feel better—while he broke free to mouth at your pulse.
His tongue flattened against your skin and dragged all the way up your neck, to take your earlobe in his mouth and suck. You moaned at the action, your hand tightening around him. That was all Mark needed before he came with a stuttered cry.
His cock pulsed in your grip, your name tearing from his throat. It felt endless, never seeing him come so much. Mark saw stars, his hips twitching with the force of his orgasm. It was almost painful in its intensity, the pleasure so sharp it made his legs shake.
Thick ropes of cum hit your stomach and trickled down your wrist before being washed away by the spray of water. But still, it wasn't enough. He needed you impossibly closer, he needed to consume every inch of space between you, and despite how much Mark just came, he was still hard. Desperately so.
The relief he expected, the clarity that should have come, was nowhere to be found. If anything, Mark found himself even more aroused than before. Another wave of confused arousal crashed through him, making him groan weakly. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, moving his hips into your hand once again as he hopelessly tried to find some form of relief.
You reached a hand to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him back to look at you. You barely got a look at how hazy Mark’s eyes were before he lunged forward and captured your mouth in another kiss.
Mark tried to be gentle but the second your lips parted for him, he was taken over by a need so consuming that he let the last thread of control fray to nothing. One hand fisted your hair, gripping it tight to angle your head exactly where he needed it, while the other gripped your waist.
He pulled you flush to his body, his chest pressed against yours. Gasping at his touch, Mark immediately took advantage, sweeping his tongue past yours. The hand that was on your waist slid down to the curve of your ass, squeezing gently before he lifted you up and pressed you back against the cool surface of the tiles.
Your legs wrapped naturally around his waist and you felt his cock brush against your folds. Water sluiced between you as he pressed closer, the tile cool against your bare back compared to the heat of him.
Mark sucked your bottom lip between his teeth and released it slowly before pulling back. You made a small wounded sound that went straight to his cock and you felt it twitch against your stomach.
Glancing down at his lips, you took in how they were spit-covered, plump and parted as he gulped back his pleasure. Just the sight of him so wrecked made your head spin and thighs clench. His chest heaved against yours, breath coming hard and fast as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“Baby, I can’t,” he panted raggedly, his voice barely recognisable. “You don’t understand… I’m not… I don’t know if I can be gentle.”
“That’s okay, Mark,” you whispered against his lips, sliding a hand up his shoulder to curl around the base of his neck. “Take what you need. Take me.”
“I—are you sure?” he breathed, glancing between your eyes as he tried to find any sort of hesitation. “I don't know if I can stop once I start…”
“Then don’t stop,” you purred, tightening your hand around the base of his neck.
He was all over you in seconds, his teeth scraping against your neck, hot and demanding against your skin—kissing, nipping, licking until he had a trail of marks blooming across it. He didn’t bother hiding how badly he wanted this—how badly he needed to be touching you.
His mouth crashed back onto yours with bruising intensity and your lips parted for him instantly, allowing him to take full control of the kiss. The hand that was in your hair moved down and wrapped around his cock, pumping himself a few times before lining up against your entrance.
You rolled your hips against him, the thick head of his cock dragging through your folds and gathering your slick. The action made your breath stutter, your thighs tightening helplessly around him, trying to draw him even closer, to get more of that intoxicating pleasure.
With one shaky thrust of his hips, Mark buried himself deep inside you, and the sensation punched a desperate sound from the both of you. A long, drawn-out moan left your lips as he stretched you open and filled you completely.
“Oh God, sweetheart,” he murmured, dipping his head and latching his lips onto your neck and sucking hard.
Mark held himself deep inside you for a brief moment that felt like an eternity. He drew back his hips until the tip of his cock slid right to the very edges of your entrance, and then drove it back in, burying himself to the hilt.
You reached a hand up, threading your fingers through the wet strands and tugging at them. He lifted his head from your shoulder and glanced down at where your bodies met, watching his cock slide in and out of you at a frantic pace.
“Feels so good,” he breathed, brushing a calloused thumb over your bottom lip.
As your lips part to let out a moan, Mark slid his thumb into your mouth—pressing the pad of his thumb down against your tongue to make you swallow around it instead. Mark cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as you sucked on his thumb—his gaze darkened as he watched the way your lips slid over it.
His thumb pulled free from your mouth with a soft, wet pop—a string of saliva connecting him to your bottom lip. His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head back. He closed the last bit of space between you, lips hovering millimeters above your own, his breath mingling with yours.
Mark’s grip on your chin shifted, his fingers curling to cradle your jaw as his hips slowly began to lose their rhythm as he got closer to his impending orgasm. His thumb moved to the underside of your jaw, tracing the line of your pulse with feather-light pressure.
His thumb moved again, shifting to the delicate column of your throat. He gently squeezed, enough to feel your pulse stutter beneath his touch as he leaned closer. His gaze drifted down to your neck, studying the way you shivered when he exerted that bit of pressure.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he panted, his thumb rubbing small, teasing circles on your fluttering pulse.
Mark’s body tensed at the feeling of your nails raking down his back, a sharp groan tearing from his throat. His hips stuttered again, losing their rhythm as pleasure spiked through him. He pressed you harder against the wall with one hand braced beside your head while the other gripped your thigh to hike it higher around his waist.
Water cascaded over both of you as he leaned in close enough that all you could see was him—dark lashes dripping wet and eyes burning into yours. Mark’s grip on your thigh tightened, his pace turning rougher—needy.
His free hand slid between you, his fingers finding your clit with cruel precision as he drove into you deeper. His fingers pressed harder, his hips pistoning with brutal efficiency. His forehead dropped against your shoulder as the tension in him coiled tighter.
“I’m gonna—I’m—oh shit—” he groaned, coming undone above you.
Your name ripped from his throat like a prayer as he came inside you. He buried himself as deep as he could go as his cock throbbed inside you, pulsing violently as he emptied himself inside your cunt.
There was too much—pulse after pulse filling you beyond capacity. You clenched around him, your body milking every last drop until his cum started to leak around the base of him, dripping down your thighs.
You were coming a few seconds after before your brain could even register it was happening. His arms locked around you in a vice grip, keeping you flush against him as he rode out both your highs with slow, grinding rolls of his hips.
“Fuck—fuck,” he muttered into the curve of your neck.
“Mark,” your voice cracked, still feeling how hard he was.
Blindly reaching to his left, Mark turned off the water before stumbling out of the shower with you still in his arms. He moved with urgency, carrying you a few steps to your bed and laying you down.
He followed you down, planting his forearm beside your head and covering your body with his. You were briefly wary of making everything wet, but then Mark kissed you and every thought evaporated from your mind.
His mouth left a trail of kisses down the column of your neck, pausing to nip lightly at the mark he’d made earlier. He continued his path down your body, his mouth leaving a scalding trail of wet kisses on your skin until he sucked your nipple between his lips.
Mark’s tongue circled the sensitive peak before his teeth grazed against it teasingly. His hand came up to the other, his thumb flicking over the nipple once, twice—watching how it stiffened under his touch before pinching it hard enough to make you gasp.
“Fuck, Mark,” you moaned, arching your back into his touch.
Threading your fingers into his hair, you tugged at the strands as he sucked your nipple into his mouth. His hand palmed and kneaded the other, clinging onto every whining plea that fell from your lips.
Mark groaned against your skin, his hips grinding down against the mattress. He switched to the other side, alternating between your breasts, his tongue laving over the other sensitive mound. He licked, sucked and nipped until both your nipples were peaked and glistened with his spit.
His mouth trailed down your stomach, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake until his hand smoothed up the inside of your thighs before pushing them apart. He manoeuvred you into the perfect position before propping himself on his elbows between your legs.
Only when his hand trailed down to your thigh, his knuckles lightly brushing over your skin, did you finally stop him.
“Mark,” you sighed, holding him back with the hand still tangled in his hair. “It’s not about me, Mark… this is about you.”
“No, I need this,” Mark shook his head, pulling your thighs over his shoulders. “I need to make you feel good too.”
Before you could protest any further, he bruised his face between your legs and devoured you like a man starved. Mark flattened his tongue, licking a long stripe up your slick folds from your aching hole to your clit.
“Oh, fuck,” you panted, tightening your thighs around his head and practically suffocating him.
Mark moaned against your core, reveling in the taste of you and him on his tongue, before his lips latched onto your clit. Your fingers twisted tightly in his hair as your hips bucked up helplessly in response to the maddening sensation.
He tilted his head down, shifting one of his hands to spread you wider with his thumb, opening you up as he licked and prodded at your entrance as the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit. Mark didn’t know if he could be able to keep it slow for long, not with you—not when he took such sick pride in taking you apart like this.
“So fucking delicious,” Mark murmured, pulling back for a second to spit onto your throbbing cunt. As if you needed any more lubrication.
He dove back in, his tongue spearing inside—the obscene wet sound mixing with your gasping moan. Your toes curled as he slid his tongue in and out over and over, curling and massaging your insides.
The sight of Mark was nearly enough to send you over the edge. All flushed skin and flexing muscle, he seeked his own friction by grinding down against the mattress, aching for a bit of relief from the pressure. Mark savoured the taste of you, closing his eyes and humming into your cunt.
Your head lolled even further back into the pillows as the vibrations shot through your body, your eyes fixed at the ceiling and almost teary from how good you felt. Then, without warning, Mark’s two fingers sunk into you as his mouth re-attached to your clit.
“Mark—fuck—Mark,” you moaned incoherently.
As his fingers curled and uncurled against your g-spot, you tilted your hips up to meet the thrusts of his hand. You were shaking now, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach wound up tighter and tighter.
Mark’s tongue and fingers continued to work in tandem, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm.
“Need you to come,” Mark rasped against you, feeling you clench around his fingers.
The raw pleading tone of his voice is what does it. Your back arched off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Mark watched you with rapt attention, keeping his mouth sealed around you—devouring every aftershock.
Mark smiled against your cunt, lapping up your release—even as it dripped down his wrist and chin. He slowed his fingers, gentling their movements, and delivering a final lick before pulling away to press open-mouthed kisses against your inner thighs.
He worked his way back up your body until he reached your face, lips glistening and hair dishevelled from your grip. Mark planted a hand beside your head, fisting the pillow as he leaned down to connect your lips.
You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He kissed you with a desperate kind of fervour, moving a hand to your jaw and tilting your head back so he could claim as much of your mouth as possible.
Your nails raked down his back, leaving a light trail of red in their wake. Mark hissed at the feeling, bucking his hips forward and dragging the swollen head of his cock through your folds, brushing against your clit.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whimpered, his hands trembling. “Please… I need more… I need you.”
“Fuck, Mark, I—” you gasped, still trying to catch your breath from the previous orgasm. “Yeah, okay… take me.”
You reached a hand between your bodies, guiding his cock and aligning him with your entrance. Not needing to be told twice, Mark slid his hands under your thighs, hitching your legs up until your calves were over his shoulders.
He pressed his chest down against yours, his body caging you in completely. Your hands clutched desperately at his biceps that encased you as he pushed in at an antagonising pace.
You felt every inch, every bump, every ridge, every vein, every perfect, blissful drag of his cock as he split you open once again. Your legs were practically folded to your shoulders, ankles hooked around the back of his neck.
You were so full you could barely breathe, stretched impossibly wide around him—the sensation so unbelievably overwhelming you could come from that alone. He wasn’t giving you any time to adjust, his body operating on pure unfiltered need.
“So good,” he murmured, barely holding his head aloft. “Feels so good. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just need—fuck—need you so bad. Can't stop…."
His cock was buried so far inside you it felt like he was in your stomach. Each one of his thrusts were deeper than the last—his chest smothering your gasps and moans as you took him over and over.
Mark’s arms began to tremble from the tension of keeping you folded under him. He sucked in a sharp breath like he couldn’t stand how good you felt, his hips rolling deeper while locking your eyes together.
At that point, it felt like Mark was practically a part of you. Each time he rocked forward, you chased the friction instinctively. One of Mark’s hands snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit.
A sharp cry slipped past your lips, your body jolting with overstimulation from your previous orgasms. Every muscle in your body twitched, wanting to flee from the sensation but, with being pinned beneath him, there was nowhere to go.
You were utterly trapped, unable to do anything but take it. You couldn’t hold back anymore—the combination of his thumb against your clit, his cock pounding into you was all too much.
“Oh god, oh God—” you moaned, grasping his wrist. “I’m close…”
“Please, baby,” he panted, his thrusts becoming needier.
You came with a keening cry as your third orgasm washed over you—your thighs shaking where they were pressed to your chest. Mark continued his thrusts, coaxing you through your orgasm but instead of slowing down, he became more frantic.
Then, without warning, he pulled out of you completely, ignoring your confused whimper, and his hands were on you—gripping your hips and flipping you around. He slid back inside you and bottomed out—his balls slapping against your clit.
Your jaw went slack against the pillows, cheek pressed to the soft fabric by Mark’s hand. He held you there for a moment, his chest hard against your back. His hips began to move, the tip of his cock nudging against your g-spot.
“Mark,” you whimpered, clutching the sheets below you.
“Yeah, baby?” he murmured into your neck. “You like that?”
His forehead dropped between your shoulder blades as his entire body shuddered with the effort to keep himself from coming apart. His hands shook where they gripped your hips; every drag of him inside you slow but punishingly deep.
“Doing so good f’me,” he breathed, kissing your shoulder.
His thrusts started to falter, growing erratic and sloppy—there was a desperate kind of ache in his movements now. The bed creaked beneath his thrusts, the force of his movements causing the headboard to smack against the wall.
Mark dragged a hand around to your stomach then, splaying it over your navel and pressing your back against him. He groaned at the sensation, his teeth biting down into your shoulder and remaining there as he spilled into you in hot pulses.
Thick ropes spurt into your cunt—being stuffed deeper and deeper with every half-thrust that followed. Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp, your eyes wide as he shifted slightly and angled his hips deeper.
You expected him to soften, to give you a moment to recover—even if it was for a second. But, for some unholy reason, Mark still didn’t slow down. A broken whimper fell from your lips as he pulled out of you once again—his and your release dripping from your abused cunt.
In a blur, before you could even catch your breath—before you could even think—he was moving, flipping you over in one smooth motion, pulling you on top of him and sliding you down onto his cock.
You were so full, so overwhelmed, you could barely process that he was still hard, still going, still in desperate need of you. Mark groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as you took him to the hilt.
His eyes locked onto where you rolled your hips—letting his cock slowly drag out of you before sinking right back in. Your thighs flexed as you rode him and the heat between you built. He thrusted up into you, meeting your movements with an unexpected roughness.
“Fuck, baby—” he panted, voice breathless, his finger flexing on your ass. "I can't—fuck, just need one more from you—Can you do that for me? Please, baby, just one more."
You lifted a hand from his chest and cupped his mouth as you rode him harder, faster. The pleasure was building quickly, both your thighs shaking from overstimulation. Your breasts bounced with each movement and Mark’s hands slid up your back, over your ribs, before grabbing your tits.
He squeezed your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making your hips stutter into a slow grind that made his cock rub just right inside you. Mark was so incredibly close to losing it all—his hands roaming at any piece of skin he could reach.
His thumb slid back down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles over the swollen bud. Your back arched, pace stuttering for a second before chasing your fast approaching orgasm. You were coming before your brain could even register it was happening.
“Mark,” you moaned, tilting your head back.
Your thighs shook violently, muscles screaming, as you slowed your movements. You could hear him mumble into your palm and you pressed your hand tighter to his mouth. He was so close, and he knew you felt it too.
With a few more weak thrusts, Mark’s cock twitched inside you, and he groaned into your palm. He shuddered beneath you, the intensity of his orgasm clearly overwhelming as he filled you up one last time.
His hips slowed gradually and you let your hand fall from his mouth—the last of your strength giving out entirely. Your head lolled onto his shoulder, too heavy to hold up anymore.
Mark breathed raggedly against your hair, his chest heaving and he could finally feel the burning under his skin start to fade. His taut muscles finally loosened and the desperate need in his chest began to settle.
You were both spent, and there was nothing left for you both but to melt into one another. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he placed a delicate kiss on your temple. Slowly, he rubbed lazy circles into your skin—his hands soothing and gentle as you regained your bearings.
He looked down at you with a sigh of contentment, and you lifted your head just enough to kiss the underside of his jaw softly. You felt your chest flutter as he leaned in to kiss your forehead—his gaze warm and loving.
Unwillingly, Mark slowly pulled out, watching his cum spill out of you. His throat bobbed, lips parting slightly as he watched it drip down your thighs and cling to your folds.
“Looks like we’re going to need another shower,” he teased softly.
“I guess so,” you hummed sleepily, closing his mouth with a finger under his chin.
