uhhhh...line?

Rié

[pr3ttypunisherr]

condescending praise......condescending praise.....condescending praise......

[kentluv3r]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (MINORS DNI) CLARK KENT is a needy head pusher!

he’s a gentle man, sure… but after three years of dating the kryptonian, you knew that when he knew you could take anything he gave you… he began to push it.

and in this face? pushing your pretty head down on his cock!

clark’s glasses fell on the bridge of his nose as your mouth continued to work on his cock over and over again; bopping your head up and down, swirling your tongue on his tip as your tongue licked the underside of him, both hands on his thighs.

everything about you was melting the poor reporter from the inside out, his eyes rolled back as he runs a hand through his black hair in need.

“god— god, fuck baby.” he moans, bringing his other hand down to the back of your head, fingers going through your hair.

you moan around clark’s cock, spit decorating his seven inches as you squeeze his balls in your right hand, your left remaining on his thick thigh. “you like that, huh?” you question him as you retract your head for a moment, spitting on his tip and licking it before sealing around him again and sucking harder. “like me sucking you off? like your big dick in my mouth?”

he nods his head faster, whimpering as you suck down on him, knees digging into the mattress. gritting his teeth as pleasure seeps into his veins, he presses on the back of your head and without thinking, he shoves your head down.

your nose gets pressed against his v-line as you get a good smell of his happy trail; not bad.

“gosh— baby, oh gosh— so’so good, fuck… so good.” he can only repeat the same words as your mouth brings him closer and closer to his impending orgasm— you can also tell by the way he twitches in your mouth.

his hand keeps you down there, making you gag ‘round him as he twists his fingers in your hair, pulling you back and just as quickly, he pushes your head back down, making the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

“suck- sucking me so good, jesus, baby…” he whispers with praise, sweat beading down his face and the glasses falling to the mattress as his messy black hair falls on his face when he looks down at you, his cheeks flushed. your eyes meet his, oh he’s gorgeous like this. “ngh! ah! g-gonna cum… oh fuckkkkkk.”

masterlist is here! click here for more!

ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

seeing red

✦Clark Masterlist - Read on aO3! - Main Masterlist✦

✦summary: all week, clark's been acting strange. he won't go near you, won't look at you, and by friday he's vanished all together. everyone seems to know why but you. but nothing's going to keep you away from him. not for that long.✦

✦warnings/tags: friends to lovers, secret identity shenanigans, emotional angst, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (male masturbation, manhandling, clark's feral, emotional sex, dry humping, blowjobs and facefucking, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, clark gets nasty, body worship, crazy overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, fingering, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick clark, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of reader✦

✦wc: 10.5k✦

✦author's note: request and voted fic! i got. real horny with it✦

Clark has been acting strange all week.

He got into work on Monday with a red face, and you didn’t question it. He runs everywhere. It’s a little ridiculous he doesn’t have a red face more.

“Want some water?” You’d tapped on his desk, and he’d let out a sharp breath.

“Yeah.” His voice had been strangely rough, his glasses almost slipping off his nose. “Water- Water would be nice. Thank you.

He hadn’t looked you in the eyes.

Not when you brought the water to his desk, or for the rest of the day. When you got in the next morning, he was already at his desk, but didn’t do more than mumble a good morning. His shoulders had squared and rippled, when you’d walked past.

You’d gone to the bathroom, and made sure you didn’t reek of something rancid. Maybe there was a sulfur leak in your apartment and you’d just gotten used to it. Maybe you’d stepped in dog poop on the train and no one’s told you.

“Do I smell bad?” You’d asked Jimmy, and he’d looked at you like your were crazy.

“I don’t know? I don’t go around smelling people like a- A serial killer-“

“I’m not asking you to smell me like a serial killer.” You’d hissed, leaning down to block him in his chair. “I’m asking you to smell me like a friend, Lois smells me all the time-“

“Then go ask Lois!”

“Lois is in Gotham, I can’t ask Lois-“

“Then ask Clark, he’ll be happy to smell me-“

“I can’t ask Clark.” You’d whined. “Come on, please smell me-“

Jimmy had eyed you suspiciously. “If this is some weird mating dance, I’m not interested-‘

“It’s not a mating dance!”

“It seems like a mating dance-“

“It’s not-“ You’d shaken your head. “Just stop being a fucking pussy and smell me!”

Someone had cleared their throat behind you. Jimmy’s eyes had widened, fixed right over your shoulder, and you’d known who it was before you turned.

You know that low, controlled sound. You know the rush that his attention brings, and the shiver up your spine whenever he’s close. You close your eyes tight, breathing through your nose, and turn to Clark with a plastered smile.

“Hi, Clark! No one was trying to smell anyone-“

You cut yourself off when you see him. You almost forget how to speak.

He’s a wreck. Curly hair is plastered to his brow, his white button up is more sweat stains than dry spots, and there’s a vein pushing out of his neck that seems painful. His glasses keep trying to slip off his nose, and he’s shifting like even just standing is uncomfortable. He’s pale and red all at once, ruddy in his face and paper white in his fists. The flush deepens near his neck, and returns to his arms right before the cut off of his rolled up sleeves. He’s breathing through his mouth.

His eyes are black, and gleaming.

You scramble away from Jimmy, yanking yourself back from going to press a hand to Clark’s brow.

Clark takes a jagged, stumbling step back.

You look back to Jimmy, and he gives you a tight shake of his head. He doesn’t know what to do either. You’ve never seen Clark with so much as a paper cut, and now it looks like he needs a hospital.

“Hey, buddy.” Jimmy tries, voice soft. Like he’s speaking to a feral animal. “You feeling alright?”

Clark jerks his head to Jimmy, and his nostrils flare. Like he’d almost forgotten Jimmy was there.

Jimmy leans back. And you know he doesn’t mean to. It’s Clark. The softest, sweetest heart you know, shoved into a giant’s body.

But like this, Clark doesn’t look like a man. He looks like something that’s crawled out of your darkest wet dream. Like something that should be in the sky, fighting Superman. With the black eyes and sudden, jagged movements, he looks like an animal.

He looks dangerous.

And he doesn’t respond right away. Clark stares at Jimmy, breathing heavily, then squeezes his eyes shut. You and Jimmy exchange another worried look. If he’s been corrupted by something—in this world, you can’t rule anything out—and he attacks, you’re not sure you can fight him off. Emotionally or physically. Clark’s huge, he’d crush Jimmy with one fist and you’d be nothing but an annoying fly to be swatted across the room.

But whatever’s going on with Clark, he seems to drag it under control. He opens his eyes, and a thin ring of blue is back.

“I’m fine.” He rasps, staring at Jimmy. “Just- Didn’t sleep well. You know.”

Jimmy blinks. “No, uh- I don’t-“

Clark looks at you.

And you could swear the blue flickers, when your eyes meet.

“You smell good.” He mutters.

He turns like something’s dragging him, and walks away. You and Jimmy stand there for about three more minutes—in total baffled silence—before Jimmy’s mouth falls open.

“What the fuck is up with him?”

Nobody seems to be sure.

On Tuesday, he seems a little better. He eats lunch with you. Wheels his chair next to yours like usual while he’s editing, because you always catch typos he misses, and he’s a good reporter but not the best writer.

“You can’t use that word here.” You tap his laptop screen. He frowns.

“There are no other words I could use, though-“

“Corrupt?”

“But- Oh.” He sighs, hitting backspace. “See? That’s why you’re the expert.”

You laugh softly, and Clark gives you his usual small, almost shy smile.

“How’s your piece coming?” He asks kindly—always kindly—and you groan.

“Dogshit.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad-“

“My main source backed out.” You grumble. “Like a little baby bitch. I can’t make this level of accusations again LuthorCorp without a source, it’s asking for a defamation lawsuit, and after the last one Perry would kill me-“

“But you won the last one.” Clark frowns, and you give him a pointed look.

“Yeah. Because I had a source.”

“Ah. Right.” He pauses, pushing his glasses slowly up his nose.

You watch the movement as subtly as possible. You love it when he does that. It’s a tiny, adorable quirk that makes you want to rip his hand away and push them up yourself.

“What if I said I have a source for you?” He asks softly, and you perk up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He grins. “You know, I’d think you’d have faith in me, I wouldn’t lie about that-“

“Shut up, I’m excited-“

“I can tell.” He boops your nose, and you stick your tongue out at him.

He does that all the time. He says you get a bunny nose when you’re excited about something, and then you hit him because nothing about you is bunny like.

Sometimes you say that, and he chuckles.

You have no idea. He mutters under his breath.

And sometimes he hits your nose, and your breath hitches because he touched you.

Today you keep it under control.

It’s Clark that freezes. Coughs and goes red, wheeling his chair an inch back. You frown at him, ready to ask what’s wrong, but he shakes his head like he’s already denying you an answer.

“It’s- Uh- Superman.”

You blink. “What?”

“Superman can be your source.” He grunts, shifting in his chair. “I can ask him to. For you.”

“I- You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“I can find someone else-“

“No, I- I’ve got it.”

He stares at you. You stare back, heart swelling with something sweeter than you usually allow it to feel.

You’re used to your feelings for Clark. You try not to think about them, especially not in his presence. There’s no amount of love you’d risk your friendship for.

But he makes that rule hard to follow sometimes. When he starts being stupidly perfect.

You smile at him, wide and unrestrained. “Thank you.”

He nods—tight and jerked—stares for a long, long moment. He shoots to his feet.

“I have to go to the bathroom!” He announces to the whole bullpen.

Clark sprints away. Jimmy gives you a questioning look, and you shake your head.

He doesn’t come back for an hour. When he does, his face is wholly red again.

He’s back to not looking you in the eyes. Back to looking so sick you’re worried he might be going feral.

And you have no idea what to do.

Lois gets back on Wednesday, and the first thing she says to you is What’s up with Smallville? Perry corners you at your desk to ask if you’ve got any idea what’s Clark’s been up to that might be doing this to him. Steve loudly jokes that everyone should be placing bets on when Clark passes out. Cat keeps trying to bring him tea—a thin guise so she can suggest home remedies to whatever super hangover he has—and Clark always drinks it with shaking hands.

He listens to all her suggestions without interrupting, but whenever Jimmy suggests Urgent Care—you’ve given up on trying to get him to the ER—Clark grunts a sound like no and won’t hear another word.

You’re getting really worried. Everyone gets sick, but Clark’s always talking about his very good immune system.

And nobody gets sick like this. Legally, Perry should be making him go home, but no one can get close enough to confirm a fever, and it’s somehow not effecting his work performance.

“Clark.” You sit on the edge of his desk, keeping your voice soft. “You need to go to a doctor.”

His whole body locks up. His fingers freeze on his keyboard, and he bows his head like he’s in prayer.

“Clark-“

“Please.” He says, so quiet you almost miss it. “Back up.”

You blink. “Back up?”

He nods, and there’s a sting in your heart.

He hasn’t asked anyone else to back up.

But you slide off his desk, and take a single step back. Another, when he doesn’t relax from the first.

You clear your throat, tucking your hands behind your back. Clark lets out a heavy, ragged exhale, and looks up.

He still won’t fully meet your gaze. His darkened eyes are fixed right over your head, and you try not to let it hurt more than it already does.

“Clark.” You’ve lost a little bit of nerve. You try not to let him hear it. “The doctor-“

“I don’t need a doctor.” He tells the ceiling, and you sigh.

“You’re sick-“

“No. I’m not.”

“Dude, I- I can feel your fever from here.” The heat, rolling off his body like he’s an active star. “At least just go so they can say you’re not sick.”

He doesn’t answer. You almost take a step forward, before reeling yourself back. He doesn’t want you too close.

“Please?” You say. “It would make all of us feel better.”

That makes him look at you. For just a split second, barely a heartbeat, but long enough.

His eyes go wholly back. He wheels his chair backwards, like there’s something toxic coming off of you that he’s trying to avoid.

And it hurts. It hurts so much your face burns with shame, and your stomach does a sick clench of pain.

It’s never fun, for the man you’ve quietly been in love with for years, to look at you like you’re proximity might kill him.

The only thing that stops you from crying is worry for him.

But that’s not enough to hold back the crack in your voice.

“Clark- Please-“

He shakes his head, jaw clenching. You swallow, and take another step back.

“Oh- Okay. Sorry.”

You turn on your heels. Behind you, Clark rasps your name.

And you look back. You can’t help it.

But all he does is stare at you.

So you walk away.

Clark doesn’t come in on Thursday. Jimmy goes to check on him, but won’t report back on what he finds. When he gets back to the office, his face is bloodless and eyes wider than an owl.

“Is he-“

“He’s not sick.” Jimmy stares at you like you’re a ghost. “He’s- Um- We should- Give him space.”

You frown. “But-“

“Lots of space.” Jimmy mutters under his breath, already walking away. “And maybe me some bleach. Freakin’- Gross-“

Lois comes up next to you, watching Jimmy head into the bathroom. You’re wringing your hands, lips pressed in a painfully tight line, and Lois grabs your wrists.

“Don’t go visit him.”

You shoot her a glare. “I wasn’t going to-“

“Yes, you were.” She raises her brows. “Don’t.”

“But-“

“Don’t.”

“What if he needs something-“

“I texted his cousin. She knows what to do.”

“To…” You narrow your eyes, pulling your hands from Lois’ grip. “You know what’s going on with him, don’t you.”

Lois shrugs. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Lois-“

“He’s going to be fine.” She says, giving you a firm look. “Don’t check on him.”

She walks away without another word.

On Friday, you go to Clark’s apartment.

You don’t go inside. Lois’ voice keeps ringing in your head, and while you’re more than willing to disobey her, it’s the way she’d said it.

Don’t.

His door is right there.

Lois’ voice fills the gaps in city noise. Pointed and direct. Almost hopeless. Like she knew you wouldn’t listen.

Don’t.

You made him soup, because you’re pathetic. He’d left his jacket at work on Wednesday, and you’d brought it home to clean up before returning it. You’d had a whole painted daydream made of pastels and watercolor, where you’d give Clark his jacket, he’d swoon with how romantic that is, and then kiss you.

But like real watercolor, the colors bleed and run. Blur together. It’s too fuzzy a picture to be reality.

You stand at his door. You don’t remember walking inside the building.

Don’t.

But you want to.

Don’t.

He could need someone, what if his cousin was busy, what if he’s been waiting for you to check on him-

Don’t.

Lois’ voice isn’t louder than your heartbeat. But it’s level. And your pulse is erratic in your throat and fingers.

And you keep seeing Clark’s face. Keep thinking of how he’d been stiffer than concrete, until you’d moved away.

He wouldn’t want to see you right now. He’d made that clear.

You put the soup and jacket on the doorstep, and ring the doorbell.

Before Clark can open it, you walk away.

On Saturday, you hole up in your apartment and work.

It’s a  distraction. Anything not to think of Clark. To think of how sick he is, how he might be in pain, how he might need help but not from you. How lately he can’t stand to be in the same room as you, and apparently everyone gets to know what’s going on with him except you-

You groan, tipping your head back against the couch.

This is exactly what you’re trying not to think about.

It’s hard, though. Impossibly hard. If only because you open your email, and see a bunch of messages from Clark. You open Teams, and his messages are pinned at the top. You send Jimmy something, and have to include Clark as a contributor. Lois sends you something, and Clark is CC’d.

He’s everywhere. You can’t stop checking your phone for a message, even if Jimmy says he’s basically out of commission. Can’t really do anything right now, he’d grumbled, making a sour face. Too… Sick.

He’d said it weird, but everything about this is weird.

Usually you’d talk to Clark about that.

You miss him.

Goddamnit.

Apparently, you’re very bad at not thinking about Clark.

You busy yourself. Clean the apartment, do the laundry, waste the day, don’t think about Clark.

He gave you this pencil. Let you borrow this  sweater, that you’ve been hoarding like a dragon with gold since. Sent you the cheesecake in the back of your fridge as a birthday present, and it had been horrible but you’d kept it anyway.

You lie flat on the floor, and fail not to think about Clark a little more. Maybe you should text him. Just so he knows you’re thinking of him. Or text Lois and ask for his cousin’s number, so you can ask her if he’s okay. Or let the anxiety fully overpower Lois’ voice in your head, and go visit him.

You’re about to go with that last option, when there’s a bang on your window. You shoot up with wide eyes, expecting a massive bird.

Instead you find Superman, standing in your fire escape. It’s hard to see him, in the shadows of dusk. His head is strangely bowed, his shoulders slumped in a way you’ve never seen on TV. Maybe he’s just more casual, when he’s doing home visits.

But why is he home visiting you.

Usually that would freak you out. This week, it’s just another fucking thing.

You open the window slowly, poking your head outside.

“Hello?”

Superman looks up at you, and your mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t look well.

Red and pale face, messed up hair, heaving chest. Clenched fists, sweat-slicken face, blown out eyes with barely a ring of blue-

Like Clark.

Just like Clark.

And it’s not just the ragged appearance. It’s something deeper. It’s the way he’s staring at you like he’s  worried you’re going to attack him. Like he’s restraining himself from moving, like you’re a repellant and he wants to fly away.

Or something else.

Without the glasses, there’s something else.

He looks desperate. The shadows on his face look longer. Maybe it’s just the sickness overtaking him, but he looks hungry. Desperate and starved. There’s an openness on his face that wasn’t there before. And he’s not looking at you like he’s afraid or skittish.

He’s looking at you like he’s a predator. Like you’re prey.

“Clark?”

“I’m here for your interview-“

You speak at the same time. Your voice is a breath. Superman—Clark? —pushes out his words like they hurt, and falters in a second.

He stumbles back like he’s been hit. You scramble forward to catch him, your body not worried about anything but Clark is going to fall.

Your hand wraps around his wrist. He makes a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. Almost a growl.

His eyes flutter. He moans out your name, trying to tug weakly away.

“Clark- Wait-“

Superman’s body goes slack, and he collapses in your arms.

At one in the morning on Sunday, too much is happening.

You put Clark—Superman? —in your bed. Took his temperature and dropped the thermometer in shock.

He’s burning at 150 degrees.

He should be dead. You’re not even sure how you touched him without burning up.

The thermometer clatters to the ground, and Clark shifts in his sleep. Groans out a garbled, pained noise that sounds like your name.

You swallow, hugging yourself tight. It’s hard not to reach out to him, but you don’t feel like you should. He hadn’t wanted you near him, and you’ve already crossed a few lines by putting him in your bed.

Then he moans, ripping the thin sheets off his body.

That time it was definitely your name.

Superman moaned your name.

You back out of the room slowly, with an embarrassing amount of effort. You can’t rip your eyes away from him.

Clark in your bed, calling for you and rolling around like a rutting beast. Whatever’s tormenting him isn’t enough to wake him up, but it’s enough to drive you out of your mind. You bite the inside of your cheek, and force yourself to close the door. It solves the looking at him problem.

It does nothing for hearing him.

And he’s loud. You’re lucky the apartments have thick walls between units, or you’d get a noise complaint. Clark is almost howling from his room, and whenever you give into temptation and go to check on him, he’s somehow managed to rip another item of clothing off in his sleep.

It starts with his top. The symbol on his chest gets torn to shreds, revealing a broad, flushed chest. He’s got a small happy trail. Muscles that you want to trace, and boobs that might be bigger than yours.

Your eyes wander to his abdomen. There’s a happy trail that leads down, down, down, and-

Oh.

That’s… Big.

You slam the door closed, and run back to the kitchen. Cold water does nothing against the heat building in your core. You splash it on your face and drink two glasses, but you might as well be downing sea salt. You’re thirstier than when you started.

The image seems to be burned behind your eyes. Clark’s bulge. Superman’s bulge.

You still haven’t really dealt with that.

Clark is Superman. Superman is Clark. You’re sure. You’ve spent the last hour on the couch, sketching out timelines and checking your work. The random disappearances in the middle of the day. How you’ve never seen him get drunk. The fact that he’s built like a Greek god but never works out, and whenever Jimmy asks him for a routine he just says grow up on a farm.  

And be a Kryptonian. That would probably also help.

To be sure—you have to be positive, before Superman wakes up and you start throwing around accusations—you cut out a pair of paper glasses and build up all your courage.

When you step into your room, it hits you like a tidal wave. The smell of sex, sweat and cum and something deeper. Clark’s ripped off his tights, and apparently the outside boxers are the only thing he’d been using for cover.

You don’t let yourself look. Your traitorous eyes try to, but you refuse to glance past his thick thighs. You won’t violate him like that. You’re here for confirmation, and nothing else.

Carefully, you wipe the sticky hair from Clark’s brow. His whole body shudders under your light touch, and he bucks up to chase your fingers when you pull away. A deep whine escapes from his lips, and you swallow.

Dear lord.

Very, very slowly, you put the paper glasses on his nose. He wrinkles it, trying to buck them off, but you plant a hand on his chest.

You don’t mean to. You move before you can think.

Clark relaxes. His body goes slack like putty, save for a single hand flying to your wrist, holding tight.

He could break you. He’s Superman. You’ve watched—albeit from afar—him pick up whole buildings. But his touch on you is light, as if you’re glass. His jaw relaxes. A purr rumbles under your hand, and his thumb starts to trace small circles.

You stare at him, every logical thought in your head evaporating in the heat of the room. The glasses confirmed exactly what you wanted them to.

Clark is Superman,

And somehow, that’s the least important thing that’s happening right now.

His brow is unfurrowed, his mouth hanging open as he pants out your name.

“Clark?” You breathe, and he moans.

This time, he calls your name. His eyes flutter in his sleep, and his hand starts to move. Dragging yours down his chest. Over his pecs, his ribs, to his abdomen and-

You yank away with a squeak, when you realize. Clark whines, immediately seizing up the second you pull away.

He looks like he’s in pain. Your touch helped, and he’d liked it, and-

No. You can’t. You won’t. You’re stronger than that, and he’s not in his right mind. Whatever’s effecting him—whatever’s strong enough to effect Superman—can’t be letting him think clearly. It would be one thing if he asked. Another to touch him in his sleep, just because he’d moved your hand there. He probably doesn’t even know it’s you.

But he’d been calling your name. He’s calling your name right now.

The steam of the room is getting to your head. You stumble away, squeezing your eyes shut when Clark keens in pain.

If you weren’t such a masochist, you’d put in earbuds to avoid hearing him. But he keeps calling your name.

And you’re not that strong at all.

Clark wakes up at four in the morning. You haven’t even managed to close your eyes.

You’re so dazed from the everything that you don’t hear him coming. You just realize the moans have stopped, and hear a quiet mumble of your name.

When you turn, Clark’s standing in the door of the living room.

He’s naked.

Fully naked.

And this time, you’re too tired stop your eyes from wandering.

He’s glorious. It’s not just the muscle and size of him, it’s all Clark. How his flexing arms are the ones that catch up when you stumble over yourself, and his legs are the ones that bring you coffee in the morning. Those fisted hands hold your hair back when you’re sick and boop your nose. His tense knees bump against yours under almost every table, and his chest keeps you tucked safely away from the world whenever you have a meltdown.

But it’s also the muscle and size of him. He looks wound up, so tight you’re worried he may snap. The coat of sweat on his skin is begging to be licked off, and his thick arms could wrap around your neck and you wouldn’t complain.

And his cock. 

You don’t know how he manages to walk around with that thing. It’s bigger than the toys you’ve seen in shops, bigger than the ones in porn that have to be fake, bigger than the lewdest drawings on the internet. Thick and veiny, hard and standing proud. His balls are heavy, and you kind of want to put them in your mouth. Every inch of him is slicked with cum, and you realize you just licked your lips far too late.

Clark clears his throat. You look up with burning cheeks and wide eyes.

“Clark, I- I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t.” He mutters, shifting on his feet. You can see his arms jerking wildly. Like he’s actively stopping them from moving. “I’m the one that should be sorry, I- I shouldn’t have come here.”

He winces at his own word choice, rubbing a stain of  release on his thigh. He’d been humping  the sheets all night. You’d heard the squeak of the mattress, and-

“I broke your bed.” He mumbles, not meeting your gaze. “I’ll fix it when- This passes.”

“Clark-“

“Stop saying it like that.”

You blink. Clark takes a deep breath, and looks up at you.

His eyes are shining. You can’t tell if it’s with frustration, or sadness, or that something else.

“Please don’t say my name. Like that, or- At all.” His throat bobs. “It makes everything very hard.”

Your lips twitch, and you glance back to his dick. He sighs.

“Yeah. I know. There are only so many words I can use, you know.”

You laugh softly, despite everything.

Clark grabs the doorframe with a groan. It cracks under his hands, and he won’t stop staring at you,.

“Don’t laugh either.”

“I- I’m sorry-“

“And don’t apologize, or- Or look at me-“

He cuts himself off with a long moan, and you fix your gaze very pointedly on the ceiling.

“Cla-“ You cut yourself off. “Should I call you Superman?”

“No- That- That’s weird-“

“Kal-El?”

“Worse.” He grunts, and you sigh.

“I need to be able to call you something.”

“It would be better if you didn’t talk, actually.”

That makes you glare at him. He winces, face scrunching in apology.

“No, not- Not like that-“

“Not like what-“

“It’s just, when you talk-“

“It’s hard?” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re so mad all of a sudden. Maybe it’s how you haven’t slept in almost two days.

It’s probably that. But also, something needs to break. If Clark just Supermans away after everything, you’re going to kill him.

“Please don’t sat that word.” Clark mumbles, and you shake your head.

“No. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen and give me answers.”

“I- I don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“You don’t get to decide what’s a good idea right now, boner-boy.”

He wrinkles his nose. “That… Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Maybe, but you know what’s also not fair?” You cross your arms over your chest, raising your chin. “Ignoring your best friend for a week, then showing up with a fever and- And magic boner then telling her to shut up!”

“I didn’t tell you to shut up-“

“You said I shouldn’t talk.”

“I said it would be better if you didn’t talk.” He mumbles, staring at the floor. “That’s not the same-“

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

The wall cracks further. You wrinkle your nose.

“You better fix the wall, Kent.”

“I will. ‘M sorry-“

“Stop apologizing to me, and just- Just tell me what’s wrong!”

You take a step forward. Clark shrinks back, but doesn’t move away.

“You’re not allowed to- To be mad.” He glances up under his lashes, and lets out another labored sigh. “Be more mad.”

 That’s not  promising, but your worry outweighs your anger. You nod, watching him expectantly. He closes his eyes, like he can’t bear to see your reaction.  

“You know kryptonite?”

You blink. “Of course I know kryptonite, I don’t live under a rock.”

“Right. Well,” he coughs. “There’s, uh- This thing. Called red kryptonite. And it does… Weird things. To me. And other Kryptonians. Which is just Kara- My cousin- I think you’d like her-“

“Clark.”

“Sorry- Sorry.” He groans. You can trace a bead of sweat down his brow.

“Red kryptonite?” You prompt, softer than before.

His cock twitches. You try not think about it.

“I got exposed to some.” He mumbles. “Last weekend. And it never does the same thing twice, but usually it’s something like… Shrinking me. Flipping my personality, or giving me an extra power or curse or- Once it turned me into a fish-“

“It what-“

“I got better.” He says quickly. “But it’s usually immediate. This wasn’t. I- I even hoped I got lucky. That it wasn’t going to effect me at all. Then I got into the office on Monday, and saw you, and…”

He trails off, words hanging in the air.

Saw you.

You activated the red kryptonite in him.

There’s a very reasonable guess to what it’s doing. You still need to hear him say it, before you do something about it.

“What happened when you saw me?” You breathe, and he gives you a pleading look.

Makes a loose gesture to his erection. You bite back a smile. He’s going to need talking into this.

“Clark.” You say gently, and he groans.

“Please don’t make me say it.”

You give him a look, and he turns even redder than before. Stares down at his feet like a scolded child. It’s almost adorable, while also remaining impossibly hot.

“It’s very… Demanding.” He mumbles. “About certain things that I would like to do. And it is very particular about who I need to do it with. But- I can’t ask that of you-“

“Can’t you?”

Your question is quiet. You know he’ll hear you.

And Clark’s head snaps up, his jaw hanging open. He shakes his head.

“You- You can’t mean that-“

“Why not?”

You take a small step forward. Clark grabs the other side of the door way, tracking your every movement with that predatory focus.

“I’d like to.” You murmur. He grunts.

“You don’t have to pity me-“

“It’s not pity.”

He chuckles dryly. “Feels like it. I know you don’t- That’s not how you feel-“

“Who says it’s not how I feel?”

You fix him with a challenging glare, and Clark swallows.

“Uhh… Steve?”

You scoff. “Steve’s been trying to ask me out for three years, of course he’d tell you that.”

Clark shakes his head, his whole body trembling.

You’ve stopped a foot away. More than close enough for him to grab you. But he has to make that final step himself.

“I- I could hurt you.” He says, giving you that puppy look.

You shrug. “I like being hurt a little.”

His cock jumps. He doubles over, and you’re a little worried he’s going to break your whole apartment if he doesn’t move soon.

“Clark.” You whisper, taking a small step forward. “I trust you. And I- I want this. I want you.”

“No, you-“

“Don’t tell me what I feel.”

He shuts his mouth, still giving you that desperate look. You want to soothe him, but you just hold your ground.

“Will it hurt you?” You ask. “If you ignore it?”

He nods, tight and controlled.

You steel yourself, even as your nerves start to buzz.

Not with fear.

With excitement.

“Then use me.” You whisper, holding his darkened gaze. “Please.”

And Clark snaps.

He kisses you so hard you stumble. Knees buckle as Clark’s fevered lips overtake yours, and your startled squeal only lets him kiss you deeper. Your fingers fly out for something to hold onto, and find only the air.

Clark picks you up like you’re made of feathers, and there’s something steady about there being no ground at all.

If you were in your right mind, you’d think something about free fall and having no worry if there’s nowhere for impact. If you can only be caught.

But you’re not in your right mind. Because Clark isn’t kissing you like a kiss.

He’s inhaling you, and it’s already lighting you on fire.

There’s a thick arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding your back. A hand wrapped around your neck, angling him to kiss as deeply as  he wants. His tongue presses over yours as he walks himself backwards.

You push back, and he moans. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Clark’s back hits the wall, his legs sinking slightly as you make out. Nothing in his hold on you falters. If anything, it tightens. Like even with your open mouth moving against each other, there’s no way he can get close enough.

You respond to everything he gives you. Clark squeezes the back of your neck lightly, and you hum happily, smiling into the kiss. He grunts, when you thread your fingers through his hair.

He sinks further down, kisses turning short and desperate. He sucks on your lower lip, nipping softly and hauling you further up his body. Your nails dig into his scalp, and he drops his arm on your waist to grab your ass.

“Clark-“

“So- Sorry-“ He groans, and you can feel him rolling beneath you, trying to get himself back under control. “You’re just- So pretty, and- And soft, and-“

He drops fully to the floor, and you start slightly when he rips his mouth from yours, before burying his face in your neck.

“Smell so good.” He almost  whines. “So good.”

You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. You’re the sane one right now. The Clark beneath you is still your Clark, but he’s also a man who’s in a fugue state of lust. Not the mild, usually level headed, noble little dork you love.

Clark whines, when you run your nails gently against the back of his neck. He’s almost shaking, kissing and sucking on your neck like he can’t even help himself. You don’t think he can.

It makes sense why he was avoiding you. This would’ve been quite the HR violation in the copy room.

“It’s okay.” You coo, kissing the side of his head. “You can take what you need, Clark, I told you I want it-“

“You- You can’t-“

“Don’t tell me what I get to want-“

“No, you can’t.” He detaches himself from your neck, going completely still. His grip on your hips is bruising.

You don’t mind at all.

“I’ll hurt you.” He mutters, and you sigh.

“We talked about this-“

“I’ll hurt you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, over pouncing each word, and you stare at him for a moment.

You shift in his lap, trying to peer closer, and he hisses. His fingers dig into your sides, and his head slowly bows against your chest. Licking and kissing softly, as if he can’t physically stand to be that far from you.

And you feel it.

The literal alien cock pressing against your ass. You’d think was a stick if you didn’t know better.

Oh.

Right.

Clark must hear the way your heartbeat picks up, and put it together. He sighs, warm breath tickling over your breasts.

“I need to get you ready.”

You swallow. “I- I’m pretty-“ You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, and there’s the familiar tingling ache that’s always a good sign. “I feel pretty ready-“

Clark grunts. “Not ready enough.”

“How do you know-“

“Nose.”

“Nose- Oh.” You flush. He can smell your arousal. “But that’s a good thing, right-“

“Not enough.”

He seems reduced to short worded grunts. You’re not faring much better, but there’s also a massive man below you that can’t stop sucking around your tits.

“Can you… Always smell me?” You manage to ask, and he hums.

That’s his agreement hum.

Your jaw drops.

“Are you serious-“

“I can’t help it.”

“You- You could wear nose plugs-“

“No. Like it too much.”

Your thighs squeeze, those deep words shooting straight to your cunt, and Clark groans.

“You- Can’t move-“

“You should move-“

“Won’t hurt you.” He grunts, like he’s making a vow. “Just- Need a second.”

You let out a slow breath, looking up to the ceiling. The idea comes faster than you want to admit, but you’re desperate.

“You were better when you woke up.” You say causally, stroking your fingers through his hair. “Lucid.”

Clark grunts. You smile at the air.

“You came in bed last night.”

He stiffens slightly. “Wet dream.”

“About who?”

You feel the ghost of a smile, against your chest. “You’re very… Mouthy. Like this.”

And you’ve been told that before. But something about the way Clark says it—like something he’s measuring, a note he’s jotting down for a piece—makes you feel all glowy and stupid inside.

“Wow. Mouthy.” You tease. “Not very polite, Clark.”

“There are other words I could’ve used for it.” He mumbles, and you giggle.

“Yeah? Like what?”

Clark draws slowly back, staring at you with those drunken, dark eyes.

“A brat.”

A lot of the fight leaves you, very fast. No ones ever looked at you like that. Like you’re something they want to chew on, carefully and deeply. To leave a mark while keeping every part of you both ruined and intact.

And his voice. Lower than you’ve ever heard, and hoarse with desire. You were already a lot woman. This just seals your fate.

“I should jerk you off.” You blurt.

Clark makes a sound like a wounded animal, and drops his brow against yours.

“You- You can’t just say that-“

“But it will help.” You give him your best, pouty and pleading expression. “You’ll feel better enough to- To get me ready.” You try to keep your voice level, as if you’re not thrilled just to say the words. “And then… More.”

Clark doesn’t answer. He just closes his eyes again, breathing heavily through his mouth. You wait, but you start to get a little worried he didn’t hear.

“Can you please look at me-“

“No.” He grinds out, and you frown. Reach up to cup his face.

“Clark-“

“Don’t ask me to move.” His words are tight. Pushed through his teeth.

You feel his cocks twitch, near your ass.

“Clark.” You make your voice soft. Traced the tensed line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. He whimpers at the touch, and you smile. “It’s okay.”

“I- I need to get you-“

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

His throat bobs, but he nods. Short and tight.

Enough.

You scoot back, and Clark lowers his legs at a painfully slow pace you accommodate you. Your ass drags over his dick, and he hisses, rutting up.

“Sorry-“

“It’s okay.” You say quickly, smiling slightly. “Good preview.”

He looks at you in befuddled exasperation. Opens his mouth like he’s going to snap something else out about you being a brat.

You settle against his knees, and don’t give him a chance.

The sound Clark makes when you wrap your hand around his cock is holy. Deep and guttural, like a man already wrecked. You let him sit in your loose grip for a second, watching his chest heave and eyes flutter.

He’s throbbing under your touch. You can barely hold him with the single hand.

You add a second, and squeeze at the base.

Clark makes another one of those beautiful noises, and grabs your wrist.

“Be- Be careful.”

You pause. “Does it not feel-“

“Feels good.” He grunts. “Too good. Gonna- Oh, fuck-“

Your mouth falls open. Clark swore.

You started to stroke his cock, and he swore.

And more. You need more. More of his swears, his sounds, his sweat running down his bare chest and the way he’s moaning your name. You need to see him fall apart, because once he’s back in control—once this massive dildo of a dick is inside you—you’re not going to be able to focus on such things.

You set a quick pace. Skin slapping and hot, unraveling him quickly.

Clark calls your name, his hands slamming back to grab at the walls. You watch in awe as his fingers sink into the wood, creating a slot for him to hold onto.

“Like- Like that- Shit.” He tosses his head back, moaning loud and lewd. “Yeah, baby, oh- Right there-“

He cuts himself off, rolling his hips up into your touch. You squeeze him again, switching your hands so one can thumb at the weeping slit on his head. Pre-cum leaks all over your fingers, and your lean further down.

You want to taste him.

When you slide off his legs—keeping your hands working—Clark says your name in a rough, garbled warning.

“What- What are you-“

You wrap your lips around the tip of him, flicking your tongue where your thumb had been. Clark makes a sound you’ve never heard from anyone before, his free hand flying to grab your neck.

The grip is tight, but painless. You’re in no danger of pain.

There’s something thrilling about how he’s gripping you so possessively. Like a life line.

You drop your hand to play with his balls. Clark bucks up into your mouth, bumping against the back of your throat.

“Sorry- Fucking Christ-“

You moan happily around him, drooling lips pushing down further. Your tongue swirls around him, and you suck, bobbing your head up and down. Trying to make him lose control again.

It doesn’t take long. Not when you reach up to his hand on your neck, and push it down.

“Are you-“

You moan, and Clark gives in.

He fucks your face like it’s a toy. Cock slipping in and out from between your lips, your spit staining with his pre-cum. Tears prick at your eyes, but you dig your nails into his thighs, refusing to be pulled off.

“Look- Look at you- Holy- Holy shit-“

Clark moans your name, and you let your hand drift back his balls. He slams up at the featherlight touch, and the tears start to flow.

“You’re so good at this sweetheart, so- So good-“ Clark moans, hips thrusting to meet every bob of your head. “Your mouth is so warm, and- And soft-“

You suckle lightly, the praise going right to your core. Your ass is sticking in the air, grinding up into nothing as he uses you.

And you can feel how close he is. His balls are tightening under your fingers, his cock twitching and pulsing, and-

Clark yanks you off suddenly, with one last cry of your name. Before you can protest or try to go back down, you see why.

He’s cumming.

And he’s not stopping.

Thick white ropes spurt from his dick, and you stare, transfixed. Every time you think he must be done, more comes. When the geyser finally stops, there’s not a place it hasn’t hit.

Clark lets out a shaky breath. You look up to him with wide eyes. He stares back, licking his lips.

“If you-“

“Do that inside me.”

You speak at the same time again. Clark blinks, leaning back slightly, and you flush.

“I- I mean- Clark-“

He starts to drag you forward, and your words turn into a squeak. Your being manhandled right into his lap, your ass still sticking up in the air and your hands just barely bracing you on the ground.

“I heard you.” He drawls, running a hand over the curve of your ass. “Pretty well, actually.”

His hand drags over your exposed core, and you whimper.

“Don’t- Don’t tease-“

“Trust me.” He mutters darkly. “I won’t.”

Two thick fingers toy at your clit, and you push yourself higher into the air. He knows exactly how to flick that little button, to drive you insane.

“Oh- Oh god-“

“If I had time.” Clark murmurs, almost to himself. “I’d keep you here for the rest of the day. Watch the sweetness drip down your legs,” his fingers trace over your sensitive inner thighs. “Let you make a mess in my lap. Wait ‘till you’re begging for it, then touch you,” one, broad finger rubs around your fluttering hole. “Nice and slow, until you feel what I’m dealin’ with right now.”

You moan, gaping at the floor. Clark gets a southern, Kanas drawl when he’s horny. It makes you clench around nothing, and he chuckles.

“Oh, you like that.” He presses the tip of his finger in, and you whine. “Yeah, I know. Know better than anyone, sweetheart.”

He pushes his hips slightly, forcing your ass higher into the air. There’s a rip, and cold air hits your core, making you shiver. His cock, still so hard, bumps against your tummy right as his finger slips into your cunt.

“Claaaark.” You moan, squeezing tight around him.

You’re rubbing backwards, trying to take him deeper. He splays one hand on your lower back, keeping you from getting what you want while still letting you chase the false hope.

He crooks his finger slightly, twisting it in a circle. You go limp, wrapping your arms around his thigh and pressing your cheek down for support.

“That’s it.” He mutters. “Just seeing what you need, it’s alright. Shit,” he lets out a sharp breath, cock twitching against you. “You’re so wet. I- I gotta-“

You hear it start to possess him, and you can’t be surprised when he pulls the finger out. Still, you twist to whine at him, maybe try to drag his hand back. He’s strong, but you’re horny, and that’s sure to help you somehow.

Instead, you trip on your own hands and collapse back down at the sight before you.

Clark cleaning your arousal off his fingers, eyes closed and face slack like he’s having a fine meal.

You can’t look away from it. It’s the hottest, most lewd thing you’ve ever seen. You whimper when he goes back into for more, dragging two fingers between your pussy lips before returning them to his mouth. He does it over, and over, and over again. Sometimes giving a little attention to your clit, like he’s milking you for more.

You’re a flushed, wiggling mess when he finally pulls his fingers away with a pop. His eyes are wholly black, gleaming with lust and fixed on yours.

There’s nothing left of you but putty, when Clark slowly starts to rub your pussy again. You’re a smeared, wrecked mess that can’t stop grinding back onto his hand, and he smiles down at you.

It’s predatory, but still soft. Exactly what you expect from him now. Pulling out the hair that got stuck in your mouth, all while slowly fingering your cunt.

“Wanted to do that for so long.” He coos, pushing two fingers deep inside of you. “You’d come into the office and start gettin’ wet right next me, I was slobbering like a dog. Thought I’d lose my mind, every single day.”

His fingers go deeper, bumping against your g-spot. You keen, making an almost unearthly sound from your chest. Clark notices it. Of course he does.

“There she is.” He mutters, starting to pump his fingers fast. Pushing against the gummy point over and over, until you’re drooling.

Your head has never been this empty during sex before. But you’ve also never been put over Clark’s lap like this. Fingered into oblivion while his dick pushes into your stomach. You start to push up—he needs attention—but Clark pushes you back down with a grunt.

“Need to be inside you.” He grunts. “Need you ready.”

Well. If he needs it.

It’s easy to relax into the feeling. Clark starting to thumb at your clit, rubbing it back and forth like a bop-it toy. Between that and his fingers, Clark is almost pulling pleasure out of you like a machine. It doesn’t take long for you to feel like you’re close. Your face his presses into his bare leg, your pussy fully pried open and well touched. You can feel the familiar tension inside you, about to burst.

“Clark- Clark-“ You don’t have the strength to twist, so you scratch at his leg. “I- I’m gonna-“

“I know.” He mutters, and fuck, you don’t doubt him. “Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart. Cum on my hand, let me feel it.”

It only takes a few more moments. Release hits you quickly, and lasts long. Thighs shaking and loud moans escaping your lips as Clark keeps playing with you.

You’re dazed from the orgasm. It’s the strongest you’ve ever felt, and your cunt is still pulsing when Clark’s fingers pull away.

“You’re ready.” He mutters, and you agree with a garbled sound.

He laughs, leaning down to kiss the back of your head as you quiver. He pulls you up into his lap, and you can feel his cock sliding between your folds. Both of your are so slick with everything there’s no friction. The tension in Clark tells you he’s close to going feral again, but his voice is still sweet.

“Just- Stay like that, beautiful.” He kisses the side of your head. “And if it- If anything starts to feel bad, tell me. I’ll stop.”

And you believe him. You know just how much this is affecting him, but you also know he’s Clark. And there isn’t a force on earth that could make him hurt you like that.

“Can you- Can you please say you’ll tell me-“

“I’ll tell you.” It’s barely more than an exhale.

Clark hears it.

“Good. Good girl.” He kisses your neck this time, and you whimper. “Let me- Can’t do it here. Not right.”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about until you’re airborne. Clark tosses you over his shoulder, holding you steady with one arm around your knees, and you blink at the cum and sweat stained floor. You might have to move, after this.

Maybe Clark could let you live with him.

Too fast. And not the thing to worry about right now.

Get fucked stupid, then think about your living situation and relationship status.

That’s a good plan. The best plan.

There really couldn’t be a better one, you decide. Not when Clark starts to rub your clit again, using the full pressure of his palm.

“Keeping her ready.” He rumbles, and you hum. You’re certainly not complaining.

You’re already close to another orgasm, when he lowers you down onto the bed. Your back hits the mattress, and you immediately reach between your thighs, fondling at your pussy hopelessly. Nothing feels as good as Clark’s hands. He might’ve already ruined you forever.

“Don’t do that.”

Those very hands catch your wrists. You stumble over your breath, when you look up at Clark.

He’s back into feral caveman mode. Stroking his cock with one hand, the other squeezing yours gently before setting it down at your side.

“I touch you.” He grunts, and you can’t argue with that.

You lay down, spreading your legs slowly. In offering. Clark makes that guttural sound, his dick somehow looking like it’s gotten harder. You swallow. It’s very hard not to touch yourself with a massive, hulking god standing over you and jerking himself off. For Clark, you’re going to try.

He’s been reduced back to deep noises from his chest and moans of your name, but he’s not making any attempt to move on you. He’s just… Staring.

Stroking his cock, and watching you. Looking between your wet, gaping pussy and flushed face, beating himself into his fist.

He moans, and doubles over. Pumps so fast his hand becomes a blur, and god you’d like him to do that to you later.

His face lands on your inner thigh. Soft stubble grazing the oversensitive area, cold breath pushing against your clit. You grab his hair, back arching off the bed at the taunting pleasure. Clark moans, watching you clench around nothing.

You cry, as his face fully presses into your cunt. It’s right as he finishes himself off, his cum painting the mattress and covering your ankles.

Clark rises back up, and for a second you just stare at each other.

“Didn’t mean to do that.” He rasps, and your lips twitch.

“I liked it.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

Clark falls back over you, kissing you deep and slow. You call tell that the clear-headed affect of the orgasm is lasting for a shorter and shorter time.

And Clark choses to use it, just to kiss you.

He tests the head of his cock up and down your pussy, making sure to push it against your clit before going back down, and starting to slide slowly in. There’s almost no resistance, and he hums against your lips.

“Goin’ slow.” He mumbles. “While I can.”

You nod. It’s all you can manage.

He feels just as big—if not bigger—than he looked. Never has a cock stretched you so greatly, and so well. The fullness is incomparable, and you’d be worried you couldn’t take it if your pussy wasn’t greedily swallowing him whole.

“That’s it.” Clark groans, pushing in every inch so torturously and amazingly slow. Forcing you to feel every single inch. “There’s you go, just- Just take it- Fuuuck-“

He moans your name, and you kiss him. You want to feel everything he has, vibrating through your chest. Straight into your cunt.

Clark bottoms out, hiding his face in your neck. You blink up at the ceiling, trying to push off more tears. It’s good, unbelievably good, and your body doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Tight.” Clark mumbles against you, and you laugh breathily.

“Big.”

He looks up at you, and for a second, you only see Clark. Your best friend, looking out of you, always kinder than he needs to be.

“’m serious.” He says, low and rough. Like a secret. “When I call you pretty. When I- When I say I want you-“

You kiss him, and Clark melts into you in a second. You can’t stop your smile.

“I know.” You breathe, and he nods.

“Love you.” He pushes in almost an inch deeper, like the words spur him on. “So much.”

You blink, and his eyes widen.

“That’s- Um- I don’t think I meant to- You feel really good and my brain is soupy-“

Kissing to shut him up will only work so many times. You cover his mouth with your hand, every inch of you feeling alive. From his words, his body, every single inch of this glorious man that’s somehow, all yours.

“My brain is soupy too.” You whisper, clenching purposefully around his cock.

Clark grunts, rutting forward. You giggle, and he gives you a dangerous look.

“Very soupy. But,” You beam. “I love you too. And I’m very serious.”

Clark pauses. Smiles into your hand, eyes shining in the dark. You feel a little like your floating. You’d like to be rocketed right up to heaven.

“Make me dumb.” You breathe, and Clark’s shoulders square.

Your hand is knocked away in a second. His mouth attacks yours, and the moment he starts to move, an orgasm is ripped from your very core.

You scream, locking up and clenching around him. Clark moans against your lips, grabbing your knees and pushing them up to your chest. It’s a deep angle, and you can feel every inch of him, sliding in and out of your cunt. His balls slap near your ass, and his mouth hangs open as he stares down at him.

He’s fully gone to the red kryptonites effects. There’s no question, as he bends you in half and starts to fuck you like a doll. But he still doesn’t let his strength slip. You feel completely safe in his hands.

Safe and attended to.

You’ve never fucked a man who makes sure to hit your g-spot so much, and Clark’s barely even lucid right now. But he drills down into it, moaning your name and making those sinful, beautiful sounds.

It’s too much for your poor pussy. Two is a lot of orgasms. Three is your—usual—max, and that’s usually with time between. But Clark isn’t letting up. And you’re getting close again.

“Cla- Clark-“ You whine out, and he fucking growls. “Clark, I’m gonna-“

He makes a deep noise of understanding, and starts to fuck you harder. You cry out, grabbing uselessly at the sheets as the next release gushes from your pussy, flying up your spine like ecstasy.

Clark finds his own release there. With you clenching tight around him, writhing with overwhelmed pleasure and moaning his name like a hymn as you come. He throws his head back and starts to fuck like an animal, roaring your name.

He grabs your jaw, demanding your eyes on his. His thumb presses on your lower lip.

Cockdrunk and empty headed, you open your mouth and start to suck.

It feels even better than you’d thought. At first it’s nothing, just painting your walls and sticking so deep inside you, you think it knocks you into another, tiny orgasm. Then it’s more, spurting out of your pussy as he keeps fucking into you. An obscene fountain, staining your ass and thighs.

Then it’s too much. You’re not sure you can breathe, but the lights dancing on the edge of your vision only add to the euphoria.

Now, it’s everything. You’re full. So full. You never want to be empty again.

And you don’t think Clark would allow that anyway.

Because he’s still fully hard inside of you. And with how he’s staring at you, you don’t think there’s a space of sound mind anymore.

Clark just stares at you, still mindlessly sucking on his thumb and growls.

You giggle as he grabs your hips and flips you onto your stomach. Drags your ass back up into the air and pushes himself back in with a thick moan.

There’s a chance that his cum is transferring some of the sexual stamina onto you. It’s the only possible way you can last this long. Clark fucks into you from behind, kissing up and down your spine as his balls slap against your clit. Your fourth orgasm hits you, and you think you see he stars.

Clark cums again. You don’t know how there’s still possibly space for it, but nature finds a way.

You giggle into the sheets. Clark kisses your shoulder, rutting deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.

He might take your laughter as a challenge. Suddenly you’re being flipped over, and Clark’s impaling you on his dick once more, forcing you to slide down and feel every inch.

It’s a good thing you get giggly when you have good sex.

If he sees it as a challenge, you’re ready to lose, over and over and over again.

On Sunday, Clark fucks you through the afternoon and into the night.

There isn’t a spot in the apartment that doesn’t feel the aftermath. After making you ride him, he clambered over you and held you to his chest, fucking you with just your knees on the bed. After that you ended up on your back, then riding him again, then somehow on the floor. Against the wall. In the doorway, your face pressed against the window, Clark flying and holding you in his lap. By the time the sun was over your head, you were a wordless, dumb mess. Clark had you in a headlock and you were smiling like an idiot, taking his cock over and over again until you think you reshaped each other.

Now, standing in the shower to wash off the everything, you think if you reached down and touched yourself, you’d find Clark completely rearranged your guts to his shape. When you’d looked at him during the soft, quiet cleanup, his cock had certainly looked like you’d molded him to only fit in you.

It’s an oddly romantic thought.

There are lots of those to go around.

Clark’s waiting for you in the living room. He’s been trying to clean, but you don’t think there’s a point.

“I told you I’m going to have to move,” you joke, and he sighs.

“Well, I- I really tried, but-“ He wrinkles his nose. “I think it got in things. When I- Yeah.” He groans. “I can see it.”

“See it-“

“X-ray vision.”

“Oh.” That fun revelation had gotten lost in everything else. It’s going to take some getting used to.

Clark bows his head, almost in shame.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “It fine-“

“I wanted to-“

“Clark.” You place a hand on his chest, smiling softly. “It’s okay. Really.”

He blinks at you, then relaxes.

“Really?” He asks anyway, and you nod.

“Really.” You nod to the floor. “I can even start apartment hunting right now.”

Clark laughs at that, and you beam.

It’s the same. Even after I love yous and the sex marathon, it’s still just Clark. And you’re more lucky to have that, than anything else.

“You could move in with me.” He suggests quiet and nervous, and your eyes widen.

“I-“

“If it’s too fast, you don’t have to, I- Geez, I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet, never mind-“

“Clark.” You raise your voice, forcing him to quiet down. “I was thinking the same thing earlier.”

He starts slightly. His lips twitch. “You were?”

You nod, and he grins like you handed him the sun.

“It’s not- Maybe too fast-“

“Maybe.” You shrug. “But I- I’ve loved you for years.” You look down to your fingers. “And we kind of lived together before. For work. And you’re my friend, first, so if you think it’s fine-“

Clark pulls your own trick. He grabs your face, and shuts you up with a deep, long kiss. You smile, rising up to meet him, and it’s barely been a day, but it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m gonna do it right, though.” Clark says against your lips. “Take you out. Woo you.”

You laugh. “Bring it on.”

✦End note: sex pollen fics are so fun i feel like im getting a secondary high✦

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[unwastelandunbaby]

thinking david corenswet is hot is the most embarrassing reputation ruining annoying thing I could have done tbh like ohhh my god really? tall big muscles dark hair and blue eyes kind man is hot? god fucking really. are you fucking stupid I hate myself. oh you think superman is hot? fucking superman? groundbreaking type shit going on here oh my god he’s tall should we tell everyone he’s tall and his jaw is nice wow she thinks the attractive man is attractive. you and everyone else. is pizza your favorite food too. fuck you. everyone look at her she thinks SUPERMAN is hot boundaries are really being pushed over here should we get her a medal because she thinks Mr Smile is easy on the eyes. “hear me out” and it’s a fucking marching band. should we call people magazine. vanilla. I DISGUST myself. summer blockbuster. I should be killed

[onlyfanfictasies]

postpartum depression is real, and ryomen hates it

tw: postpartum depression(ive never been pregnant so im trying my best) cursing, fluff flufff and angstttt, ryomen being the softest human being ever, mentions of death, DIDNT PROOFREAD

you’re lying in bed on you stomach, face smashed into a very fluffy pillow ryomen invested his money into.

thoughts running a million miles per hour, ryomen is in the next room rocking your beautiful newborn son to sleep. you let out a loud sigh, you’re body rightfully drained, never have you felt this tired before and you’ve done sports before.

your brain feels the same as your body, tired.

just extremely.. “tireddd” you groan.

the door behind you opens “babe?” you grunt. ryomen immediately crosses the room to be by your side, you never grunt, normally you hum when he or someone catches your attention.

he knows something is wrong.

he knows you’re tired.

“talk t’me” you shake you head then you feel two hands grab your waist. he gently places you on his lap, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

“can’t.. m’so fucking drained ryomen” your voice cracks and you feel your eyes getting wet. “i know baby, i know, if there is anything i can do.. let me know.”

in a moment of silence he runs his rough hands softly up and down your plush thighs.

you nod, you’re face now smashed into his neck not the pillow. “maybe they should’ve let me di-“ his eyes shift towards you. “shut up” he pulls up and holds you up.

“shut the fuck up” you’re eyebrows knit together “excuse me?” “you’re fucking excused” you roll your eyes. “don’t ever say that, ever again.” he grabs your face, your face squished.

“im sorry for being rude, but i don’t want to hear that sentence come out from your damn mouth ever again, you deserve to be here.” he lets go of your face and kisses your cheek. “we deserve to be here, with our son, who’s asleep”

“yeah?” he nods “hell yeah baby, you always wanted this, i know you’re not at your best but you look-“ trying to control his words he looks up and down at you slowly. “like a mother.”

you smile “don’t lie to me, i look a complete mess, I don’t think ive showed in 3 days.” he hums and leans in and sniffs. “ewww ryo!” you giggle and he smiles “smell good too.” “you’re so nastyy”

he kisses your cheek “im sorry” he looks down, ashamed? “wait what, what are you sorry for?” he shakes his head his smile faded into a frown, different from his normal pout.

“ive been so engrossed into taking care of yuji.. i- fuck” his voice cracks “i almost forgot about you.. about us” you kiss his shoulder. “i forgot about myself too, don’t be sorry.” he sighs and shakes his head “I should be sorry, extremely.”

he picks you up and gives you a bath, rubbing your back and washing your body letting you unwind and ease your mind.

finally.

my masterlist

ps. came up with this last night, because I saw a video of this woman(i forgot the @) and i forget that sometimes our parents forget themselves to take care of us. so appreciate yours💕

©onlyfanfictions don’t steal my work i spend a lot of time on every single thing i make, i hardly have the brainpower to make it lol. no ai thank you.

[syn4k]

"lock in" is probably one of the most important phrases to enter the public lexicon in the 2020s

[joyflameball]

[kora-kiroshi]

Art from to00fu! ✦.cw : stalking, toxic dynamics, sex

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna seeing you for the first time at that trashy frat party. His eyes are locked on you from across the room, his knuckles white as he grips his red solo cup, completely losing his mind the second he clocks you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna walking up to you with that cocky, arrogant smirk that usually works every damn time. He tries to pressure you into going upstairs to his room right then and there, but you hit him with such an ice-cold, disgusted look that his ego practically shatters. You just turn your back on him, leaving him standing there looking like a fucking clown.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to save face by circling back with a fresh drink for you, but you don’t even spare him a glance. You step around him like he’s just another piece of trash in the hallway, and he’s left feeling like a total loser, watching your back as you walk away.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna spending the rest of the night pretending to listen to his bros bragging about football, but in reality, he’s tracking your every move. He doesn’t even realize how much of a creep he looks, neck craned awkwardly just to keep you in sight.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna watching you laugh at some other guy’s joke. A sick, stinging envy curls in his chest, making him want to howl.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waking up the next morning with a pounding head, but he doesn't give a shit about the hangover. You’re the only thing consuming his thoughts.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna grilling everyone on campus—from RAs to terrified freshmen—until he finds out your major and what classes you like, typing every detail into the Notes app like a total stalker.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna digging up your socials in one night, scouring your TikTok likes to see what kind of guys you’re into. When he finds a video of some guy who is his total opposite, he lets out a pathetic, guttural groan and buries his face in his pillow.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna liking every single one of your posts, praying you’ll notice his pathetic efforts and follow him back. When you don't, he just ends up getting blackout drunk with Toji again.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying a new approach by kissing up to your friends to get any scrap of info on you. He grumbles under his breath—mentally sulking like a kicked puppy—when you spot his desperate attempts and shoo him away. He drops his head and slinks off, feeling like a beaten dog.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to give up, finally changing his entire class schedule just so he can sit next to you. Now, he gets to stare at you every single day.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna haunting you twelve hours a day. He’s in the library, the dining hall, outside your dorm. He notices your eye twitching, the way you keep looking over your shoulder, growing more and more paranoid. But he can’t stop. He’s fucking obsessed.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna sitting in his room at night, jerking off to your photos. His hand tightens around his cock to the rhythm of his ragged breathing, his lips silently forming your name, terrified to actually say it out loud.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna overhauling his wardrobe to match the aesthetic of the guys you post on TikTok, desperate for a shred of your attention.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to quit. At the next party, he approaches you again, fully expecting to get shut down. He cracks a stupid, nervous joke, and then—you smile. His heart skips a beat, and he breaks into an idiotic, lovesick grin.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna feeling his jeans grow painfully tight when you casually take a drag of his cigarette, your lips brushing against his fingers.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna blushing to the tips of his ears when you’re wasted and press into him for warmth by the bonfire. He’s too scared to even put an arm around you, so he just stands there, stiff as a board, inhaling the scent of your hair and praying this moment lasts forever.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to play the gentleman while walking you to your dorm. He keeps his hand on your waist, but his fingers are burning with the urge to slip lower, to the panties he’s dying to pull off. He holds back because you’re drunk, and he wants you to remember him as something more than just another horny prick.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna falling asleep with a massive, dopey smile on his face after seeing that you finally followed him back on everything.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna getting off to your simple text, "You were sweet," his cock throbbing in his hand as he texts back, "Did you like it?" When you send a drunk voice note whining about how much you love it when he acts like a pathetic simp for you, he cums so hard his body jerks off the bed.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna stalking you across campus the next day. When you finally reach out and touch his shoulder, he craves nothing more than for you to never let go.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna becoming your personal pack mule, carrying your books, waiting outside every single one of your classes to walk you home. You smile at him, and his entire world starts and ends with you.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna barely holding it together when you send him spicy photos. His hand goes straight to his pants, but he forces himself to reply with something witty, even though his skin is crawling with the need to rip your clothes off and pin you to the wall.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna sending you a video of him jerking off and whining for you when you ask for proof. When you reply with a photo of your dripping pussy, he drowns his phone screen in his own cum.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to leave your side at the next frat party. His eyes are practically begging you to stay when you mention wanting to talk to your friends. (His bros roast him for it. He couldn't care less.)

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna feeling his heart soar when you lean into his ear and whisper that you want to fuck. His breath hitches and his hands shake with pure anticipation as he drags you to his room, already picturing you beneath him.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waiting for your permission, hovering over you, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He’s breathing hard, inhaling your scent, terrified of messing up. The second you nod, he’s tearing your clothes off.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna worshipping your pussy, licking you with pure, feral reverence. His cock is so hard he’s ready to blow his load just from the sound of your first moan.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna damn near coming the second he slides inside you. His eyes roll back, his hips moving on instinct. He hears your scream, and it drives him faster, deeper, his nails digging into your back.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna begging you to let him go faster, his voice cracking as you scratch his back in time with his rough thrusts. He’s pounding into you so hard the bed frame is practically screaming against the wall.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna bending you over, lips pressed against your ear as he whines about how long he’s wanted you, how he’s obsessed over you every single night. His voice trembles as he asks if he’s doing it right, if you like the way he’s fucking you, scared to death that you’ll tell him to stop.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna letting out a quiet, wrecked moan when you squeeze his cock too tight, his hips bucking into your hands, desperate for release.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna finishing with a loud, guttural groan, spilling himself deep inside you. He watches you, broken and satisfied, before collapsing on top of you, gasping for air.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna holding you tight afterward, arms wrapped around you so you can’t leave. He pretends to be asleep, terrified that if he opens his eyes, you’ll have disappeared.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna grinning like the biggest simp on earth when you kiss him in the morning, leaving your panties on his pillow with a promise that you’ll do it again. He grabs your hips, begging you not to go, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated hope.

Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna, who is obviously going to ask you on a date tomorrow and spend the entire time begging you to let him bury his face back between your thighs and lick your dripping pussy until you’re coming all over his face.

Do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or feed my work into AI in any form!)

[kenforty]

𓍼. Blood pressure.

Firefighter!Sukuna who starts believing in miracles when you slide him your phone number under the guise of prescription, dainty fingers wrapped around his wrist, feeling his pulse before you pulled away, leaving behind a tingling on his skin.

He wouldn't say it out loud but he did sniff his wrist like a dog in the privacy of his own home.

Firefighter!Sukuna who somehow managed to land a date with you, between horrible typos and genuine spelling mistakes you still somehow thought he was worthy of dating.

Firefighter!Sukuna who sits opposite to you in the cafe booth, fingers fidgeting with the napkin beside his plate as you scanned the menu.

"Have you been here before?" You looked up, soft eyes meeting his widened ones, "do you have any recommendations?"

"Water's good." Sukuna blurted out, tip of his ears turning red as he simultaneously registered your question and his own response, "I mean like, it's crispy and hydrating, I don't drink—sorry I haven't been here before."

Firefighter!Sukuna who dreadfully waits for you to realise how much of a loser he is and walk away.

From his jumbled words to clumsy hands nearly dropping a jug full of water in your lap, he was sure you'd block him by the end of the night.

Firefighter!Sukuna who is pleasantly surprised to somehow find himself at you apartment, your fingers tugging his collar as you desperately claimed his mouth, heels digging into the back of his thighs from where he had you pressed against the door.

He squeezed your thighs, pulling away from your lips to scan your apartment, eyes searching for way to your bedroom, afterall he had been here few weeks ago.

"It's the one in far left." You mumbled against his throat, lapping up at his bobbing adams apple, arms tightening around his neck as he stepped into the living space, "wait, take off your clothes."

"Here?" Sukuna looked into your open living room, gently letting go of your body as your feet settled on the ground, watching as you haphazardly tucked at he straps of your sundress, plush tits spilling over the collar as you pushed it down, "You want to have sex here?"

You stop stripping, eyes wide as you turn around to look at the space available, before continuing to shimmy out of your dress, "later, let's get to bedroom first."

Firefighter!Sukuna who feels precum oozing out of his tip at the mere thought of later, he followed your lead, clumsily stripping down to his underwear, eyes locked on the way you casually slid your panties off, strutting your way to the bedroom.

He slowly followed you inside, cheeks red as he took in the way you had decorated your room, warmth blooming in his belly at the thought of being in your space.

"Come, wash your hands." You tilted your head towards the bathroom, wetting your hands before pumping out handwash, expectedly waiting for him to join you.

Confusion painted his features but he still abided by your request, naked and horny and washing his hands.

"You are about to put your hands on and on me, I want them clean."

Oh. Oh.

Firefighter!Sukuna who goes one step ahead, hands curling so he could fill them with water, before splashing it on his face, making sure to rub around his mouth twice.

You watch him in curiosity, eyes sparkling as he wipes his face dry with one of the towels you handed him.

"I wanted to, you know." He gestured vaguely with his hand, when he spotted your raised eyebrow, he elaborated further, "I wanted to eat your pussy too."

Firefighter!Sukuna who is surprised when you, quite literally jumped his bones, face flushed as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling between his legs to smother his face with kisses.

Firefighter!Sukuna who leaned over your body, hand wrapped around his thick cock as you spread your pussy.

He tapped the tip of his cock against your clit, relishing in the way you squirmed, hips weakly rutting upwards, chasing his fleeting touches.

Momentarily, he visualised the water hose, weirdly comparing his cock to it, after all he was about to extinguish the fire in your bell—

He was probably daydreaming for too long, when your voice brought him back to the bedroom.

"Still with me, 'Kuna?" You mumbled, reaching up to cradle his jaw, eyes soft as you pecked the corner of his mouth. "What are you thinking about?"

Firefighter!Sukuna who groaned, eyes screwed shut as tried to find a way to explain to you his analogy without sounding—insane.

And you are looking up at him so—tenderly, eyes soft and worried, brows furrowed, and then his gaze drifts lower, pebbled nipples and love bites littered on your sternum and lower where you pussy waits in anticipation, so wet.

And the his dick—the hose.

"Your pussy, my dic—the fire," he stammered, dread pulling in his stomach as the furrow between your brows deepens, you are trying your best to understand him, "i am stupid." He huffed helplessly, arm bending at the elbows as he leaned down, pressing his chest against yours, cock smushed against your pussy, drawing a gasp from your pretty lips. "Shi—sorry."

"Move 'Kuna," You pushed slightly against his toned belly, reaching between your bodies to surl your fingers around his length, feeling him shudder against your grasp, "don't tease me now." You pouted, aligning his tip with your entrance, smearing his precum messily over your folds.

Firefighter!Sukuna who pushed past his thoughts and focuses on you, the spasming of your walls as his tip pushes past the entrance, the arching of your back as you accomodate to his girth, the way your hand hovers over your clit, not yet touching because he knows you'll cum too fast if you did.

He steadied himself over you, breath fanning on your cheeks as he reached between your bodies with his free hand, gently guiding your hand around his neck, before trailing back down.

Pulling out, he rubbed his thumb across your entrance, gathering slick before guiding his cock back inside, smearing the fluid on your clit, thumb rough and pressured against your tender bud.

"Kuna—" You moaned, trembling in his hold, completely at his mercy as he set a slow rhythm, thick cock dragging deliciously against your wet walls, your nails dig into the skin of his back, huffing out breaths with each thrust.

Firefighter!Sukuna who has you falling apart in his hold, cock red and throbbing with a pulse as you cum around him, thick creamy coating his base, sloppy mess between your bodies.

Firefighter!Sukuna who mutters out, "Whe—where do you want me?" Words muffled against the skin of your shoulder, hips rutting forward as his thumb relentlessly drew shapes on your clit, unbothered by the fact that you already coated him in your creamy slick twice.

You don't answer, you can't—answer, mind devoid of any coherent thought, you could barely focus on anything other then his cock battering your insides and his thumb swapping slick on your bud.

Firefighter!Sukuna who looks down at your ruined appearance, eyes glossy and filled with stars, cheeks red, lips swollen and rosy, he presses one long wet kiss against your plush cheek, pulling out in one go, hand letting go of your waist and wrapping around his length, blurring as he stroked himself, cum splattering on your belly and thighs, some droplets even managing to paint your nipples.

Firefighter!Sukuna who lays flat on his back in your bed, tanned and tattoed skin surrounded by baby pink duvet and teeny tiny plushies, his back supported by what he assumes are, at least 5 small pillow.

His dick, soft and shiny, tucked between his thighs, he turns he head to see you sprawled beside him hands trailing up and down your body, fingers occasionally smearing his coating your belly.

"You want to was—"

"Round two by the ent—"

Both of your stop immediately, widened eyes meeting another set of widened eyes, you stop fiddling with his cream coating your belly, instead you turn towards, ignoring the squelch as remnants of body fluids, leaked out. "I thought firefighters had stamina?"

Firefighter!Sukuna who is dumbfounded by your question, eyes shining with mirth as he took turned towards you, dick bobbing down as blood rushed south again. "Was just being courteous."

He huffed, getting off the bed and dragging you to the edge by your ankle, grinning wide as loud cackles escaped your lips, easily tossing you over his shoulder as he made his way out to the living room.

"Where do you want to start, Ma'am?"

Part I

[thej0ry]

What would you do if you were scrolling through recommended tumblr posts and one was from someone you don't know and it was just a picture of your dad captioned "fucking hate this guy" and it had hundreds of notes

[meshugenist]

reblog it

[lastoneout]

Sorry we really went from free the nipple, take back the night, slut walks, and ending gender/sex segregation in sports being fucking milquetoast feminism 101 concepts to fucking girl dinner and "I just worry about fairness if we let trans girls play against cis ones" and "it was right of that woman to call the cops on a black man for existing near here in public during the day time because men are all violent monsters" and "radical feminism isn't transphobic we just need to kill all men including trans ones those oppressive traitors" and I will legit never be able to be normal about it. What the FUCK happened. I'd say I wonder what the feminists of my youth would say about this but I'm one and lemme tell ya I want to throw up. Go fucking read bell hooks or do something else useful please because all of this learned helplessness, gender essentialism, and transphobia dressed up as feminism is actively holding us back.

[kenforty]

𓍼. Heart rate

Firefighter!Sukuna who bust down your bathroom door when there was a fire in your building (one that you weren't aware of), clad in thick and hefty bunker gear, eyes scanning the brightly lit bathroom only to spot you in the middle of shower, completely bare, soap bubbles still coating your skin.

Firefighter!Sukuna who clears his throat, looking over his shoulder before turning back to you, cheeks dusted with a rather adorable shade of red.

"Th—there's apartment in next door fire." He stepped closer, hand gesturing for the bathrobe hanging beside the mirror.

"Huh?" Your brows are furrowed, trying to decipher who between you both was having a stroke, maybe the abrupt slam of the door did mess with you head.

The absurdity of the situation startles you enough that the thought of being completely naked before doesn't even cross your mind, at least not until he reached for the bathrobe himself, stepping closer to hand it to you.

Firefighter!Sukuna who acts instinctively, once you are modestly covered, yanks you over his shoulder to quickly move out into the smoke filled hallway, steps heavy against the wooden floor as he made his way out, making sure you didn't get knocked into the wall or door frames.

Firefighter!Sukuna who instantly jumps back into the building after making sure you are steady on your feets, looking over his shoulder once before continuing back inside, hoping he'd find you after the rescue is completed.

Firefighter!Sukuna who frowned when the medic informed that the people had scattered around some to the hospital for minor injuries other taking refuge with friends and family till the apartment complex was fixed.

Firefighter!Sukuna who mulls over the awkward interaction for days, rest of the team teasing him over his jumbled words, hoping to find a reason to go back to your apartment without seeming like a pervert or a creep.

Firefighter!Sukuna who groans loud when he is informed about the routine check up he must have to ensure health, begrudgingly walks into the hospital with rest of the team, brows furrowed as he waited for his name to be called.

"Ryomen Sukuna."

The lady at the desk announced his turn, gesturing towards the door with light glowing above the 'general physician's.

Sukuna sighed, stepping into the office only to be stopped in his tracks, before him stood you, much more clothed, stethoscope hung around your neck as you wrote on charts, eyes widening in recognition when thet met his.

Firefighter!Sukuna who awkwardly stepped into your office, almost tripping over nothing, nearly turning a routine check up into a life threatening emergency.

"You work here?" He asked, nearly slapping his own forehead, of course you do.

You nodded your head, lips pursed together as you placed the clipboard on the desk, patting the stretcher, "I'd hope so."

Firefighter!Sukuna who snorts at your sass, ugly little sound escaping the back of his throat, warmth blooming on his cheeks as you grinned back at him.

Firefighter!Sukuna who sits still while you noted his vitals, metal of the stethoscope cold against his warm skin, eyes following your movement, at one point he caught himself admiring your penmanship.

"You've got good handwriting." He mumbled, pointing to where you noted his pulse rate and blood pressure, "usually doc's have chicken scribble writing."

Firefighter!Sukuna who swears to keep his mouth shut when you continue to look at him in bewilderment, more than once did he catch you suppressing the urge to grin.

Firefighter!Sukuna who waits outside your office to get clearance, only to be handed a doctor's note instead.

"Come back for check up later, your heart rate was abnormally high."

[6x-x9]

ಇ.word count: 6.9k ಇ.art by: @!mochikuyo on X

ಇ.pairing: bsf Satoru & Eren x bsf!reader

ಇ.content & warnings: ꒰fingering ⋮⋮ oral (reader & satoru rec.) ⋮⋮ p slapping! ⋮⋮ pet names heavy! ⋮⋮ cum in mouth ⋮⋮ cum play ⋮⋮ both at the same time ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ dp ⋮⋮ tummy bulges ⋮⋮ c-pied꒱

You’re sprawled across Eren’s lap like always, legs dangling off the arm of the couch, head tucked under Satoru’s chin while he scrolls aimlessly on his phone. The three of you have been tangled like this for hours, while some dumb action movie flickers on the TV that none of you are really watching.

It’s the kind of Friday night that’s happened a hundred times before: snacks scattered, blanket fortress half-built, your body slotted perfectly between theirs like you were custom-made to fit the negative space they create when they sit too close.

Eren’s thumb keeps brushing slow, absent circles over the bare skin of your thigh where your oversized hoodie rode up and you're only wearing panties underneath. Satoru’s fingers are threaded loosely through your hair, tugging just enough to feel possessive without ever admitting it. They’re warm. They’re always warm.

And you’re so used to it, the casual touching, the way they both smell faintly of cedar and whatever cologne they stole from each other, that you never question how heavy their breathing gets when you shift and your ass presses back against Eren’s hips.

You yawn, stretch like a cat, and announce it without thinking.

“I’ve got a date tomorrow night.”

The room doesn’t freeze. Not exactly.

But the lazy thumb on your thigh stops dead. Toru’s fingers pause mid-scratch against your scalp. The only sound left is the muffled explosions from the television and the sudden harsh rhythm of Eren’s exhale through his nose.

“A date,” Eren repeats. Flat. Like he’s tasting something bitter.

“Yeah,” you hum, oblivious, scrolling through your phone now. “This guy from chem. He’s cute. Kinda tall. Said he’d take me to that new ramen place downtown.”

Toru’s voice comes quieter than usual. Almost gentle. “Tomorrow.”

“Mhm.” You tilt your head back to look up at him, smiling all sweet and glassy-eyed like you always do when you’re happy. “Why? You guys wanna come third-wheel? I can ask if he’s cool with it.”

Eren laughs, but it’s wrong. Sharp, with no humor in it at all.

He shifts under you suddenly, strong hands clamping around your hips, keeping you pinned right where you are. You squeak in surprise, thighs squeezing together on instinct.

“No,” he says. Low and dangerous. “We don’t wanna third-wheel, princess.”

Toru’s hand slides from your hair down to your throat…not choking, just… holding. Collarbone to jaw. His thumb brushing the soft skin under your chin so you have to look at him.

“You’re not going,” he murmurs.

You blink up at him, lashes fluttering. “Huh?”

“You’re not going on a date,” Eren cuts in, voice rougher now, hips rolling up just enough that you feel exactly how hard he is. Not subtle. Not pretending anymore. The thick outline of him presses insistently against your ass through thin layers of fabric. “Not with him. Not with anyone.”

Your breath catches. You’re still trying to process, still trying to stay in that sweet, fuzzy headspace where they’re just your overprotective best friends so when Toru leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth soft, teasing and barely there, you're a bit stunned to say the least.

But Eren doesn’t tease.

He grabs your chin, turns your face towards him, and kisses you like he’s been starving for it. Deep and messy, his tongue sliding against yours before you can even gasp. One hand fists in your hair while the other slips under the hoodie, rough palm skating up your bare stomach until he’s cupping your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple like he’s done it a thousand times in his head, he grabs it and balls up the fabric in his palm and tugs it off you, throwing it behind the couch without care.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard. Your lips are swollen. His eyes are dilated, black eating the emerald green.

“We’ve been good,” he rasps. “So fucking good. Letting you prance around in those tiny shorts, letting you sleep between us, letting you rub that pretty little body all over us every night like it’s nothing. But a date?” He laughs again low and bitter. “Nah, baby. That shit ends tonight.”

Toru’s mouth finds your neck. Open-mouthed, he sucks a bruise right under your jaw while his hand slides between your thighs, not touching your pussy yet, just cupping you over your panties, letting you feel the heat of his palm.

“You’ve been so sweet to us,” Toru whispers against your skin. “Letting us hold you. Letting us get hard and pretend it’s an accident. But we’re done pretending, baby.”

Eren’s fingers pinch your nipple harder and you whimper embarrassingly which makes them both look at each other in unison and smirk.

“We both think about this cunt every single night,” he growls. “Every time you fall asleep between us, we’re rock fucking hard imagining how tight you’d feel. How wet you are, how you’d cry our names when we finally stretch you open.”

Toru hums in agreement, middle finger pressing just enough against your clit through the cotton that your hips jerk.

“You’re ours,” he says simply. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been obvious. “Always have been. You just didn’t know we were waiting for permission to take what’s ours.”

Eren leans in again, lips brushing yours.

“Tell us you want it,” he murmurs. “Tell us you want both of us. Or we stop right now… and you can go on your little date tomorrow like a good girl.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“But if you do…” He smiles slowly, a feral glint in his eyes,"We're not letting you leave this couch until your pussy’s so full of us you can’t even think about another man’s name.”

Your thighs tremble.

Your heart hammers, you aren't entirely sure if the imagery Eren’s just conjured up is what has your body on fire and mind in disarray with boiling want. Do you really want them both at the same time, your best friends…were you always this naive about them or did you just realise that you want them too.. God, yes you fucking do.

And between them now, with their warmth, dicks hard and unyielding tension, you feel something inside you finally give in.

Soft and sweet and a little dumb with want.

“…please,” you whisper.

Eren groans like you just handed him the keys to heaven.

Toru smiles against your throat.

“Good girl.”

You’re still trembling from the way they pinned you down, Eren’s mouth bruising yours, Satoru’s teeth grazing your throat and when Toru shifts, sitting up straighter on the couch. His hoodie is rucked up just enough to show the sharp cut of his hips, the light trail of hair disappearing into gray sweats that are doing nothing to hide how fucking thick he is.

“Baby,” he says, voice all soft velvet now, “need your mouth.”

Your eyes drop automatically. His hand catches yours, guides it down slow until your palm presses flat over the obscene bulge. Even through the fabric you can feel the heat, the heavy throb. He’s so hard it looks painful, long, thick and curving up toward his stomach like it’s begging.

“See, baby? m’hard for you,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your knuckles while he makes you feel every inch. “Been like this every night you sleep between us. Couldn’t help it. Your little ass grinding back, those tiny whimpers you make in your sleep… fuck.”

You swallow. Your mouth feels too wet, too empty.

He tugs the waistband of his sweats down just enough. No underwear.. you think thats gross but also fucking hot ugh. Just him and his fat, flushed cock, the tip already slick and shiny with precum that beads at the slit and drips slow down the underside. It twitches when the cool air hits it. So pretty. So stupidly big. The kind of cock that makes your thighs clench on instinct.

You’re sweet about it. Always sweet. You lean forward without being told twice, pressing the softest, open-mouthed kiss right to the fat head. Your lips brush the sticky tip and he hisses through his teeth, hips jerking like he can’t help it.

“Good girl,” Toru breathes. One hand cups the back of your head, not pushing, just holding. “Just like that. Kiss it again. Taste me, pretty please.”

You do. Another slow, filthy kiss. Then another. Letting your tongue flick out to lap at the precum, salty and warm. He groans low in his throat.

“Open up, baby. Gonna teach you exactly how I like it.”

You part your lips. He guides himself in slowly, inch by thick inch, until the head sits heavy on your tongue. Your eyes water instantly at the stretch, but you don’t pull back. You just look up at him with those big, glassy eyes while he starts telling you what he wants.

“Suck the tip first.. yeah aaaah- just like that. Swirl your pretty tongue around it. Fuck… goodness baby. Now take a little more. Relax your throat for me, sweet thing. Breathe through your nose.”

You try. You really try. He’s so big it makes your jaw ache already, but the way he’s looking at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen makes you want to take all of him. You hollow your cheeks, suck soft, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein underneath.

Behind you, Eren’s been patient. Too patient.

His hands find the backs of your thighs, prying them apart until you’re spread wide across his lap. Cool air hits your soaked panties and you whimper around Toru’s cock.

“Come on, baby girl,” Eren growls against the shell of your ear. “Won’t you let me see this pretty pussy? Been dying to look at it properly.”

His fingers hook into the crotch of your panties, tugging them to the side. You’re dripping. Embarrassingly so, strings of slick connecting your folds to the fabric when he pulls it away and he groans like he’s in pain.

“Fuck. Look at her, Toru. She’s fucking soaked.”

Toru’s hips stutter forward, pushing a little deeper into your mouth at the sight. You gag softly but keep going, drool's already slipping down your chin.

Eren’s fingers slide through your folds slowly with deliberate care, coating themselves in your wetness before he finds your clit. Cute little swollen thing, peeking out and begging. He rubs it in tight, mean circles with his thumb while two fingers tease your entrance, not pushing in yet. Just circling. Spreading you open.

“So wet for us,” he mutters. “This little cunt’s been waiting, huh? Knew you needed both of us stretching you out.”

You moan around Toru’s cock, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. Your hips buck forward into Eren’s hand without thinking, chasing the pressure on your clit.

Toru’s grip tightens in your hair. “That’s it, baby. Keep sucking. Gonna fuck your mouth slow while Eren plays with this perfect pussy. You’re doing so good for us.”

Eren slips one finger inside you, then another immediately, curling them just right while his thumb keeps working your clit in relentless little strokes. You’re shaking now, thighs trembling, drool dripping down Toru’s cock as you try to take him deeper. 

Eren hooks his fingers into the thin waistband of your panties now, tugging them down with slow, patient care, down the swell of you ass and the crotch is soaked, from his spit and your sticky slick. Once he gets it off he presses an open mouthed kiss to your pretty cunt, his mouth fully englufing you with no barrier stopping him anymore.

They’ve got you right where they want you, split open between them, mouth full, cunt dripping, completely theirs.

And they’re only just getting started.

Toru’s grip in your hair turns firmer but not cruel, just enough to remind you who’s in control. He rocks his hips up slow, feeding you another thick inch until the head bumps the back of your throat and your eyes water instantly. You gag around him, soft and wet, helpless little sound that makes his abs flex and his breath hitch.

“Fuck, baby… that’s it,” he groans, voice wrecked. “Gag on it. Let me feel that tight little throat squeeze me. You’re so sweet when you try to take it all.”

Tears prick your lashes. Drool spills from the corners of your mouth, slicking down his shaft, dripping onto your chin and the couch beneath. You’re messy for him, always so eager to please and he loves it. Loves the way your tongue still tries to swirl even when you’re struggling, the way your cheeks hollow every time he pulls back just to push in again.

Behind you, Eren’s done playing nice.

He’s got your thighs shoved wide, knees hooked over his shoulders now so your ass is lifted just enough for him to bury his face where he’s been dying to be. Rough hands spread your cunt open, his fingers digging into soft, slick flesh, holding you apart like he’s displaying you. You’re so wet it’s obscene: glistening folds, clit swollen and throbbing, strings of arousal clinging to his fingers when he pulls them away.

“Look at this sloppy little pussy,” he mutters against your inner thigh, hot breath fanning over your core. “Dripping all over my hand just from sucking him off. You love being used like this, don’t you?”

Before you can even whimper around Toru’s cock, Eren slaps your pussy, a sharp, wet smack that makes your whole body jolt. The sting blooms fast into heat, clit pulsing harder. You cry out muffled around the thick length filling your mouth.

Eren does it again. Harder. The sound is filthy, each wet smacks echoing in the quiet room. Your hips buck uselessly, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Sensitive already?” he taunts, voice low and mean. Then he spits, right on your clit, a thick glob of saliva landing perfectly, sliding down your folds. He watches it drip with dark eyes before leaning in and dragging his tongue flat from your entrance to your clit in one long, slow stripe.

You sob around Toru. The vibration makes him curse and thrust deeper, holding you there until your nose brushes his pelvis and you’re choking sweetly, and tears streaming.

Eren eats you like he’s starving. Tongue flicking fast over your clit, then sucking it between his lips with hard pulls that make your thighs shake. He alternates: sloppy open-mouthed kisses to your folds, tongue dipping inside to fuck you shallow, then back to circling that needy little bud. Every time you get close, your hips grinding and muffled moans turning desperate, he pulls back. Just enough.

Edging and Torturing you… keeping you right on the brink.

“Uh-uh,” he growls when your cunt flutters, so close you can taste it. Another slap, lighter this time, but it still makes you yelp around Toru’s cock. “Not yet, baby girl. You don’t come until we say.”

Toru’s breathing is ragged now, hips stuttering as he fucks your throat in shallow thrusts. “She’s gonna make me come if she keeps moaning like that,” he warns Eren, but there’s no real complaint in it, just raw need. “Fuck… her mouth’s so warm. So fucking wet.”

Eren hums against your clit, the vibration ripping another choked sound from you. He spits again messily then sucks your clit back into his mouth while two fingers slide inside, curling against that spot that makes your eyes roll back.

You’re shaking. Drooling. Gagging sweetly every time Toru bottoms out. Cunt clenching around Eren’s fingers while he edges you mercilessly with every lick, suck, slap, spit, repeat.

They’ve got you trapped between them, mouth stuffed full, pussy spread and devoured, body trembling on the edge of something massive.

Toru’s thumb brushes a tear from your cheek, almost tenderly and he slips his cock out of from your mouth and taps the tip of his cock to your lips as you catch your breath, smearing bubbly saliva and pre over your lips messily.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Taking us both so pretty.”

Eren pulls back just long enough to murmur against your dripping folds:

“Gonna let you come soon, baby… but only when you’re choking on his load and begging for mine.”

Your whole body clenches at the promise.

They’re not stopping.

Not until you’re ruined for anyone else.

Eren pulls back from your dripping cunt with a wet, obscene sound, his lips shiny, chin slick with you. He’s breathing hard, eyes dark and blown out like he’s high off the taste. Without a word he shifts, lying flat on his back along the couch, one arm hooked behind his head while the other reaches for your hip.

“Come on, baby,” he rasps, voice rough from all the growling and licking. “Sit on my face. Need this pretty pussy grinding on my tongue right fucking now.”

You’re still dazed, mouth swollen from Toru, thighs shaking from the edging, but the command cuts through the fog. You crawl forward on shaky knees, straddling his head. He doesn’t wait for you to settle. Big hands clamp around your hips and yank you down hard until your soaked cunt is pressed flush to his mouth.

The first swipe of his tongue is filthy, long and flat dragging from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, vibrations ripping a broken moan from your throat. Then he’s eating you messy: lips sucking at your folds, tongue fucking inside shallow and greedy, nose bumping your clit with every tilt of his head. He’s loud about it slurping, sucking and growling against your core like he’s trying to drink you dry.

Your hands scramble for purchase, fingers digging into the back of the couch as your hips rock instinctively, grinding down on his face. He loves it. Encourages it with bruising grips, guiding you to ride his tongue harder and faster.

Toru’s been watching the whole time, stroking himself slow and lazy while you gagged on him earlier. Now he stands up beside the couch, his sweats shoved down to his thighs, cock flushed dark and glistening from your spit. He steps closer, one hand fisting the base while the other cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him.

“Open up again, baby,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Gonna fuck this pretty mouth while he eats you out.”

You part your lips on instinct, still so sweet, so pliant and he slides back in. Not gentle this time. He pushes deep right away, hitting the back of your throat until your eyes water fresh and you gag around him, sloppy and wet. Drool spills immediately, running down your chin, dripping onto Eren’s chest below you.

Toru starts thrusting in, slow at first, letting you adjust, then deeper, harder. One hand tangles in your hair to hold you steady while the other braces on the back of the couch. “That’s it… throat me like a good girl. Fuck, look at you nmgh taking it so sloppy, making such aaah mess.”

Every time he bottoms out you choke. Sweet, wet gurgles that make Eren groan louder into your cunt. The sound vibrates straight through your clit and you buck harder against his face, smearing yourself all over his mouth, his nose, his chin. He doesn’t care. He just spreads you wider with his thumbs, tongue flicking fast over your clit before sucking it between his lips again, relentlessly.

His own hand slips down, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock, stroking himself in rough, tight pulls while he devours you. The wet schlick of his fist mixes with the filthy sounds of his mouth on your pussy and Toru’s dick sliding in and out of your throat.

You’re caught perfectly between them: hips grinding desperate on Eren’s tongue, throat stuffed full of Toru’s thick length, drool and slick everywhere. Your moans are muffled and broken, vibrating around him every time Eren licks that perfect spot inside you with his tongue.

Toru’s hips stutter, breath hitching. “Fuck… gonna cum soon if you keep choking on me like that, baby.”

Eren pulls back just enough to growl against your folds, words muffled but clear. “Not yet. She comes first. Then we both fill her up.”

He dives back in, sucking your clit hard, tongue flicking merciless while his fingers dig into your ass, spreading you even wider so he can bury his face deeper.

You’re trembling, thighs quaking, so close it hurts.

Toru fucks your mouth faster. Shallow,  sloppy thrusts that make spit drip down onto Eren’s abs.

Eren strokes himself harder, hips bucking up into his fist like he can’t help it.

They’ve got you right there teetering, dripping, stuffed full and theirs.

Just a little more.

And you’re going to shatter.

It hits you like a wave you can’t outrun.

Eren’s tongue is relentlessly sucking your clit in hard, pulsing pulls while his fingers dig into your hips, holding you down so you can’t escape even if you wanted to. Your thighs lock around his head, whole body seizing as the pressure snaps. You cum hard shaking. Cries muffled around Toru’s cock, hips grinding down messy and desperate onto Eren’s face. Slick floods his mouth; he drinks it up greedily, groaning deep vibrations straight into your core that drag the orgasm out longer, sharper, until you’re sobbing with it.

Your cunt pulses around nothing, clenching on air, dripping down his chin, his neck. He doesn’t stop licking, not even when you’re twitching and oversensitive. Just softer laps now, soothing the raw edges while you shudder through the aftershocks.

Toru’s been fucking your throat steady, but the way you choke and moan around him when you come tips him over. He pulls back suddenly. Only the fat, swollen tip still resting on your tongue and strokes himself faster and rough.

“Fuck ngh open wide, baby,” he pants. “Gonna, fuck- give it to you.”

You do. Tongue out, lips parted, eyes glassy and teary from everything staring up at him. He groans low, hips jerking, and comes thick, rope after hot, heavy rope painting your tongue white. It’s so much it spills a little at the corners of your mouth before you can catch it all. Warm and salty, thick enough that it clings n pools heavy in the center of your tongue.

He milks the last drops out with slow strokes, smearing the tip across your lips like he’s marking you.

“Don’t swallow it yet, pretty girl,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and soft all at once. “Need to see it first.”

You stay like that, kneeling between them, thighs still trembling from Eren’s mouth, mouth full of Toru’s load. Eren finally eases you up just enough to sit back against the couch arm, pulling you half into his lap so you’re still facing Toru. His hands slide up your sides, possessively, while he watches with dark emerald, hungry eyes.

Toru steps closer. Cups your jaw gently but firm, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where a little escaped.

“Show me,” he says.

You part your lips slowly, careful not to let any spill. Your tongue coated, its thick, pearlescent-white, his cum sitting heavy and pooling in the middle, strings of it connecting to the roof of your mouth when you part wider. It’s obscene. Beautifully yours.

Toru exhales shaky. “Fuck… look at that. All for us.”

He reaches in, two long fingers sliding past your lips, pressing into the warm pool of his own release. He stirs it lazy, coating his fingertips, feeling how thick and sticky it is while you whimper softly around the intrusion. Your eyes flutter, lashes wet.

Then he pulls his fingers out, glistening, dripping, and brings them straight to his own mouth. Sucks them clean and slow, tongue swirling around the digits, tasting himself mixed with the faint sweetness of your spit. His eyes never leave yours, cerulean eyes a hint darker and possessive, like he’s claiming every part of this.

“Sweet,” he murmurs against his fingers. “But not as sweet as you’re gonna taste when we both fill that pretty cunt next.”

Eren’s hand slips between your thighs again, fingers brushing your still-throbbing clit, making you jolt.

“Our turn to mark you inside,” Eren growls low against your ear, nipping the lobe. “Gonna stuff you so full you’ll be leaking us for days.”

You’re still holding Toru’s cum on your tongue, thick, warm and waiting.

Toru leans down, kisses the corner of your mouth softly.

“Now swallow, baby,” he whispers. “Take all of me… then we’ll give you both.”

Your throat works. You swallow slow, feeling it slide down, warm and heavy while they watch like it’s the hottest thing they’ve ever seen.

And when your lips part again, empty now, Eren’s already shifting you, lining himself up.

They’re nowhere near done.

Not even close.

Eren’s hands are already on your hips the second you finish swallowing, rough palms sliding up your sides, guiding you with that same possessive grip he’s always had but never let loose like this. He pulls you forward until you’re straddling his lap, knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs. Your arms loop around his shoulders automatically, fingers digging into the back of his neck, forehead dropping to rest against his as you try to catch your breath.

He’s hard again, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip from stroking himself while he ate you out. The head nudges against your soaked entrance, slicking itself in your arousal without even trying. You whimper at the contact, hips twitching forward on instinct.

“Easy, baby girl,” Eren murmurs, voice low and wrecked. One hand stays clamped on your hip while the other reaches between you, guiding himself right to your opening. “Gonna take me slow and let me feel every inch of this tight little cunt finally wrap around me?”

You nod dumbly and eager, still hazy from coming so hard, and you start to sink down.

The stretch is immediate. Intense. He’s thick enough that your walls flutter and grip around the head the second it pops inside, and you gasp sharply against his mouth. Eren groans like he’s been punched in the gut, head falling back against the couch for a second before he snaps it forward again to watch your face.

“Fuck… look at you,” he breathes. “Taking me so pretty already.”

You keep sinking down slow and carefully, until he’s buried halfway in. Your thighs tremble from the burn of it and that’s when Toru moves.

He’s been right behind you the whole time, silent and patient, stroking himself lazy while he watched. Now he presses in close, chest flush to your back, one arm banding around your waist to hold you steady while his other hand slides down between your spread thighs.

As you take another inch of Eren, Toru shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt right alongside Eren’s cock.

The stretch doubles instantly. Your walls clamp down hard, fluttering wildly around the sudden fullness. You cry out high and broken, head tipping back against Toru’s shoulder.

“Fuck, baby,” Toru whispers hot against your ear, fingers curling deep, pressing against that spot that makes your toes curl. “So tight. So fucking full already and we’re just getting started.”

Eren’s hips jerk up on instinct, pushing deeper while Toru’s fingers thrust in shallow, matching the rhythm. The drag is obscene, Eren’s thick length stretching you open, Toru’s fingers rubbing against him through your walls, slick sounds filling the room every time they move.

“You’ll let me stretch this pretty pussy out too, hm?” Toru murmurs, voice all soft velvet as makes it sounds more like a promise than a threat. He scissors his fingers in slower, spreading you wider around Eren’s cock, making room. “Gonna open you up nice and slow so you can take both of us. Gonna feel so good when I slide in right next to him… gonna ruin this little cunt for anyone else.”

You’re shaking between them, overwhelmed and suffed, dripping down Eren’s shaft and Toru’s wrist. Eren’s mouth finds your throat, sucking a fresh bruise while he bottoms out fully, hips flush to yours. The pressure is insane, Eren’s cock throbbing deep inside, Toru’s fingers still working you open, curling and thrusting until you’re clenching so hard it hurts in the best way.

“Goddamn,” Eren growls against your skin. “She’s gripping me like a fucking vice. Keep going, Toru ngh stretch her more. Wanna haah feel you in there with me.”

Toru adds a third finger in slow and carefully and you sob, nails digging into Eren’s shoulders. The burn blooms into heat, into pleasure so sharp it whites out your vision for a second.

“That’s it,” Toru praises, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Such a good girl. Taking us both already. Gonna fuck you together soon… gonna fill you up until you’re leaking us for days.”

Eren starts rocking up into you with shallow thrusts that make his cock drag against Toru’s fingers with every stroke. You’re so full you can barely think, just feel. Just take.

They’ve got you pinned perfectly, in the front and back, cock and fingers, mouths and hands everywhere.

And they’re only warming you up.

Toru’s fingers are still buried deep, three thick digits stretching you wide around Eren’s cock. When he finally starts to pull them out, slow. Every inch drags against your fluttering walls, against the heavy length already filling you, making you whimper and clench harder around Eren.

You’re shaking in Eren’s lap, arms locked around his shoulders, forehead pressed to his as you try to breathe through the overwhelming fullness. Eren’s hands grip your hips like anchors, keeping you seated deep on him while he watches Toru over your shoulder with those emerald, impatient eyes.

Toru’s voice is low against the back of your neck, lips brushing skin. “Gonna replace these fingers now, baby. Gonna slide right in next to him… gonna make this pretty pussy take us both.”

He shifts closer, chest flush to your back again, one hand steadying your waist while the other guides his cock down. The fat, slick head nudges right against your already-stretched entrance, pressing insistently beside Eren’s shaft. You feel the pressure immediately, hot, blunt, and impossible… fuck- it feels impossible and your breath hitches into a soft, panicked whine.

“Shh,” Toru soothes, kissing the curve of your shoulder. “Relax for me. You’ve been so good… you can take it. Just breathe.”

Eren groans low when he feels Toru start to push, feels the thick head crowding in, stretching you further. “Fuck… yeah, push in slow. Let her feel every inch.”

You’re so wet it helps, slick dripping down Eren’s balls, coating Toru’s tip but the stretch is blinding. Toru rocks forward gently at first, just the head breaching you alongside Eren. Your walls burn, fluttering wildly, trying to accommodate the impossible double thickness. A broken sob tears from your throat; your nails dig crescent moons into Eren’s shoulders.

“Too much?” Eren murmurs against your lips, kissing you soft and messy to distract you. “You’re doing so good, baby girl. Look at you, taking two cocks like you were made for it.”

You whine, embarrassed by the fact of his words. Eren soothes you gently, petting your back with slow strokes, shushing you in his arms.

Toru takes that as a sign to sink in deeper, inch by slow, torturous inch, until he’s buried to the hilt right next to Eren. The fullness is obscene: two thick lengths pressed flush together inside you, walls stretched thin and tremble around them. You can feel every vein, every throb, the way they twitch against each other through the thin barrier of your body.

“Goddamn,” Toru breathes, voice wrecked. His forehead drops to your shoulder, hips flush to your ass. “So fucking tight… can feel him right next to me. Feel how full you are, baby?”

You can’t speak… the words are stuck, you just nod frantically, tears slipping down your cheeks from the intensity. Eren starts moving first. Shallow, careful rolls of his hips that make both cocks drag inside you at once. The friction is electric; every slide rubs them together, rubs against that deep spot that makes your vision blur.

Toru matches him after a moment, pulling back slow while Eren pushes in, then switching. They find a rhythm quick: one in, one out, seesawing deep inside you so there’s never a second you’re empty. The drag is relentless, stretching, filling. Utterly overwhelming.

You’re crying now, soft and overwhelmed sobs into Eren’s neck while your hips start rocking back on instinct, chasing more even though you’re already so full it hurts in the sweetest way.

“That’s it,” Eren growls, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple. “Ride us, baby. Fuck yourself on both our cocks. Show us how much you love being stuffed like this.”

Toru’s hand slips around to your clit, fingers finding the swollen bud and rubbing tight, fast circles while they keep thrusting. The added stimulation sends sparks up your spine; you clench hard around them both, making them groan in unison.

“Gonna come again?” Toru whispers hot against your ear. “Gonna soak us both? Milk us until we fill this little cunt up?”

Eren’s thrusts get harder, deeper. Hips snapping up to meet yours. “Come on our cocks, pretty girl. Let us feel it. Then we’re gonna pump you so full you’ll be dripping for us so beautifully.”

You’re trembling, teetering, so close again, your body stretched to its limit, clit throbbing under Toru’s fingers, two thick cocks ruining you from the inside out.

They’ve got you pinned, claimed and completely theirs.

And when you shatter this time it’s going to be devastating.

They’re moving in perfect, brutal sync now, Eren thrusting up deep while Toru drives in from behind, cocks sliding against each other inside your stretched, fluttering walls. Every push rubs them together through the thin membrane, friction so intense it makes your eyes roll back. You’re creaming around them. Thick, milky slick coating both shafts, dripping down Eren’s balls and Toru’s thighs with every wet slap of skin on skin.

Your tight walls grip them like a vice, milking desperately as they fuck straight into your cervix, blunt heads battering that deep, sensitive spot over and over. The pressure builds fast, sharp and overwhelming; your tummy bulges visibly with each thrust, the outline of their cocks pressing outward against your lower belly.

Eren notices first. His hand slides down from your hip, palm flattening over the soft swell. He pushes on it firmly, gently and deliberately, right where the bulge is most pronounced.

“Fuck, look at that,” he growls, voice wrecked. “Can feel myself right here… feel how deep we are inside you, baby girl? Stretching her little pussy so wide she’s bulging for us.”

You whimper broken and high, hips jerking between them. The pressure of his palm combined with the relentless pounding sends sparks shooting up your spine. Toru’s hand joins, fingers splaying beside Eren’s, both of them pressing down in tandem as they thrust harder, deeper.

“Gonna make you come like this,” Toru murmurs hot against your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. “Gonna feel you cream all over both our cocks while we kiss your cervix, hm baby want us deep in there?.”

You bite your lip, and it hits you suddenly and violent.

Your whole body locks up, back arching, thighs quaking, a raw sob tearing from your throat as you come harder than before. Walls spasm wildly around them, clenching so tight it drags broken groans from both their throats. Slick gushes out in messy pulses, soaking their cocks, dripping down in thick rivulets. Your vision whites out for a second; you’re shaking, crying, completely lost in the overwhelming fullness and the way Eren’s palm keeps pushing on that bulge, making every pulse of your orgasm feel deeper, sharper.

They don’t stop, can’t stop. They bury themselves to the hilt in one final, synchronized thrust, Eren’s hips snapping up, Toru slamming forward until there’s no space left inside you. You feel them throb, swell, and then they’re coming hard.

Hot, thick spurts flood you at the same time, Eren's cock pulsing deep against your cervix while Toru unloads right beside him, ropes of cum mixing, filling every inch until you’re overflowing. The pressure is insane; your walls flutter helplessly around the double load, trying to take it all but failing beautifully.

Toru pulls back just enough, barely an inch while staying buried deep. His free hand slides down between your thighs, thumb hooking one swollen lip and spreading you open wide. The sight is filthy: your pussy stretched obscenely around both cocks, creamy white cum already leaking out in a fat, slow spurt. It slips from between their shafts thick and pearly dripping down Toru’s length in a heavy trail, coating his balls, pooling on Eren’s thighs beneath you.

“Fuck… look at her leaking us,” Toru breathes, thumb rubbing slow circles through the mess, spreading it over your clit. “So full she can’t even keep it all inside.”

Eren groans low, hips twitching with aftershocks as another small spurt escapes him. His palm stays pressed to your tummy, feeling the faint throb of their cocks still buried deep.

“You’re ours now,” he rasps, kissing your sweaty temple. “This pussy’s marked. Stuffed. Leaking both of us.”

You’re trembling between them overstimulated, full to bursting, cum dripping slow and steady down your thighs. They don’t pull out. Not yet.

They just hold you there, cocks softening slightly but still thick inside, keeping every drop plugged deep while their hands roam lazy over your body.

Claimed.

Ruined.

Theirs.

The room feels heavier now, thick with the smell of sex, sweat, and the faint salt of cum. You’re still straddling Eren’s lap, thighs quivering, body limp and boneless between them. Their cocks are softening inside you, but neither has pulled out yet, just resting there, keeping you plugged full, every tiny shift making a fresh trickle of their mixed release slip out.

Toru moves first.

He eases back slow and carefull, so so gentle, until his cock finally slips free with a wet, obscene sound. A thick gush of cum follows immediately, spilling from your stretched hole, running hot down your inner thighs and dripping onto Eren’s lap. You whimper at the sudden emptiness, walls fluttering around Eren’s length like they’re trying to pull him deeper to compensate.

Toru doesn’t go far.

He leans in close behind you again, chest pressed to your back, arms wrapping around your waist in a loose, possessive hold. His lips find the side of your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses. Trailing up the curve where he’d bitten earlier. Gentle now. Soothing. Each press of his mouth feels like an apology and a promise at once.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and wrecked. “Took us both so perfect. Look at you… all messy and full of us.” Another kiss, slower, right under your ear. His tongue flicks out to taste the salt there. “Gonna take care of you now. Promise.”

His hands slide up your sides, warm palms smoothing over ribs, petting you like you’re something fragile and precious. One hand cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the base of your skull while he keeps kissing your throat, your jaw, the soft spot behind your ear.

Eren’s still buried inside you, half-hard, twitching lazily every time your walls flutter. He shifts just enough to sit up straighter, pulling you flush against his chest so your breasts press to him. His mouth finds yours immediately, a slow, deep kiss that tastes like your own slick and his tongue. Lazy. Unhurried. Like he’s savoring every second now that the frantic edge is gone.

One hand slides up to cup your breast, thumb circling the nipple soft and unhurried, teasing it back to a stiff peak. He pinches gently, rolls it between his fingers, then soothes with the flat of his palm. The other hand stays low, splayed over your lower belly where the bulge has softened but you can still feel the faint throb of him inside.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” he mutters against your lips, kissing you again, messy and open-mouthed, tongue sliding slow against yours. “All flushed and leaking us. Our pretty girl.”

He keeps playing with your tits, kneading one while he kisses you deeper, then switching to the other, thumb flicking the nipple until you arch into his touch with a soft whine. Every tug sends little aftershocks through your oversensitive body; your cunt clenches weakly around him, milking another small bead of cum that drips out around his base.

Toru’s mouth never leaves your neck, kissing and sucking soft bruises into fresh skin, whispering praise between each press of his lips.

“So sweet… so fucking perfect… ours, baby. All ours.”

Eren breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur against your mouth, “Gonna stay like this a while. Keep you full. Keep you warm.”

His fingers keep teasing your nipple with gentle pinches and slow circles, while Toru’s hands roam your sides, your back, your hips. They’re everywhere and nowhere all at once, soft touches and warm mouths, their low voices rumbling praise into your skin.

You’re boneless between them, head lolling back against Toru’s shoulder, lips parted on shaky breaths, body humming with the quiet afterglow.

They don’t rush.

They just hold you.

Kiss you.

Pet you.

Like they’ve got all night.

Like they’ve finally got what they’ve wanted for so long.

And they’re never letting go.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

OH YEEESSSS MY FAVORITE CROSSOVER!!!!

[tonycries]

Hey, Venom Boy! - C.K.

Synopsis. Venom’s had enough of his host’s racing heartbeat and tíghtening pants around you. So he does what any good symbiote would do - help Choso lose his vírginíty, of course!

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, Venom!Choso, best-friends-to-Iovers, PlNING, héats, he has tattoos and piercings, Venom in bold, first times (for Choso), PÚSSYDRÚNK CHOSO, oraI (fem. rec), spítting, ínappropríate use of the symbiote, LONG tongues, ríding, dúmbifícation, making it fit, size kínk, tummy buIges, creampíes, cúmplay, MARATHONS, matíng presses, overstím, squírting, cúmming dry, proposals, biting marks, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. Inspired by this ask and this post by the lovely @/screampied.

“You like her.”

“Shut up.”

“You want to fu-”

“Shut up.”

“Heh- loser.”

And Choso was genuinely contemplating smashing his head against the nearest wall, if only it would yank out that damn parasite- “Oi, I can hear you.” -he had the misfortune of picking up.

Weeks - though, it felt like years - weeks since he’d wandered into his usual hiding spot at the abandoned Lady of Saint’s Church for a moment of peace and quiet; except, he wasn’t alone that day. Too busy poring over yet another sketch of your dazzling smile to notice-

“Your pulse rate spiked- you’re thinking of her, boy. You want her.”

But it’d been weeks since he’d had peace and quiet after this…alien symbiote had forcibly attached itself to his body that day. 

And the worst part was that he wasn’t even wrong. 

“S-so what?” Choso hisses out. “She deserves better than me anyway.” Wincing at the sheer predatory amusement in Venom’s voice as he purrs— 

“I have a plan…”

.

.

.

Your best friend was acting strange.

Given, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for his fawn eyes to linger on you just a little more than what’s considered appropriate for a “friend”, or for him to burn with the prettiest blush whenever you caught him. 

But these days it was almost like he was avoiding you on purpose. 

Taking the longer routes after lectures, being struck pale as a ghost mid-conversation, always muttering away underneath his breath. 

Hell, one day you even had half the mind to jokingly ask him whether he was talking to someone you couldn’t see - to which Choso had sputtered and all but sprinted away from you. 

And here he was right now - towering right at your apartment doorway in just a snug undershirt and the sexiest grey sweatpants.

“Ch-Choso?” Your jaw drops slightly at his disheveled, heaving state. 

Milky skin simmered with a sheen of sweat that made his dark tank top glue to his broad chest, chestnut strands of his bangs falling out of his bun to hide his eyes from you, almost…feverish.

Frantic gaze bouncing off the beefy arm he’d kept leaned over your doorframe for support, “What happened- are you sick? Are you drunk?” A quick glance at the clock showed that it was well past 12AM, “Are you okay, Cho-”

And then he flinches.

Fuck- he flinches as if the sound of that very nickname falling from your cute lips made his entire body shudder with a thousand bolts of lightning. 

Baritone voice hot and murky once he utters, “Baby…”

Oh. 

You could feel the goosebumps starting to slither down your spine already, and you tug nervously at the paper-thin pyjama shirt you had on. Too-aware of the fact that it was the only thing you were wearing other than your thin panties- damn.

Noticing the way that every minute movement of yours seemed to make Choso’s pants grow heavier; you dare to take a step closer, and it only makes him grip onto the mahogany doorway until it splinters. 

Teeth grit. Nostrils flaring. Barely holding himself together.

Gasping, “Cho?”

“I need you.”

“Wha-” And it’s the last thing escaping your mouth before Choso surges forward like he’s being jerked, movements twitchy - desperate - he falls a few steps forward until he’s in your heated proximity. 

Your saccharine scent so sweet that he’d be on his damn knees if you hadn’t clawed a hand on one of his flexing biceps- a gruff whimper departing from Choso’s plush, pink lips. “K-kiss me.” 

Oh, fuck.

You watch with a carnal sort of desire at the way that he scorches with a breezing blush all the way from the tips of his ears, down to his collarbones. Fisting your dominant hand in the flimsy cotton of your best friend’s undershirt, just the tiniest, weakest tug makes him gulp.

Now that he started, he couldn’t stop.

“Kiss me- kiss me, p-please.” He’s finally darting his hazy peripheries up from the floor to look at you, you, and only you. Dragging in a deeeep breath of your air, his half-lidded pupils were begging- “Kiss me, baby.”

You’re humming, the curved edges of your fingertips curling ‘round Choso’s nape and pulling him in. 

He’s melting.

He’s melting and melting into the kiss - as if he’d been dreaming of this for just as long as you have. Even longer. 

Strong, sturdy hands wrapping around your waist to tug you against his hardened front, you gasp at the sweltering hot temperature he was radiating. Already feeling beads of perspiration starting to form across your forehead-

He’s sucking in a sharp breath, “Need to- need to tell you something.” 

Words huffin’ out through glides of his berry-pink lips across yours, each one wrenching out like it pained him to part from your candied mouth with each sloppy mwah! Blindly, he slams the door shut with the heeled back of his foot. “There’s- a- a thing-”

You’re grinning once his voice breaks - breaks, as soon as you’re sipping on the cold spherical piercing homed at the edge of his tongue like your favorite gummy candy. “A…thing?”

Through a slightly-cracked eyelid, your gaze sinks down between Choso’s thick, meaty thighs. Instantly feeling a wave of sap flood your mouth at the massive cylindrical bulge that tightened his sweatpants uncomfortably.

He was just too cute. 

“A ‘thing’, hm?” You’re breaking off to smirk, twisting a silky lock of his hair around your index in a way that makes the looming man in front of you shiver. Chasing and chasing your lips- he was so weak for you. 

Giving in, you’re just about getting ready to kiss your best friend silly once more - but what meets your ravenous mouth isn’t his soft, plump lips anymore. 

No, it doesn’t even feel human. 

What instead greets you is something frigid and slimy. Something that crushes you to him with a strength tenfold of what Choso had been using - almost animalistic - until you’re lurching back and gaping at the fact that your feet were now dangling almost two whole feet off of the ground.

Snapping your head to his face and- 

What…the…f-

“Don’t scream!” In a startling split-second, that black mass of goop masking Choso’s face slithers away in tiny tendrils to reveal, well, Choso. 

And honestly, you’re not sure if that wants to make you scream even more or just shuts you up completely. But whilst you ogle whatever it is in front of you, Choso keeps plowing on. 

“This- ah, this is what I meant by a…thing.” He’s stammering out nervously, dark brows crinkling with nervousness as he watches on for your reaction. “Basically- a few weeks ago- my body got infected by this alien thing- a ‘symbiote’, it said, and I-”

“Improved.”

You’re feeling that temptation to exhaust your lungs with yells once more as Choso’s swallowed up within that dark matter. 

Muscular and big. 

Except this time it was formulating a mouth - all wide and decorated in tiny, jagged canines - and slanted white eyes with not a pupil in sight. A dexterous tongue gliiiides down the crevice of its sharp mouth, glittered with strands of slobber. “We are Venom, pretty girl. And you smell…”

Venom’s voice was deep. Coarse. A rumbling bass that made the very bottom of your stomach quiver- you’re distracted only by the growling sniff he lets out. Monstrous ivory eyes locked right between your heated core-

“-delicious.”

Oh…he was reaching well near eight feet and twitching from the inside out once Choso fights to regain control. 

“A-as you can see-” Smiling sheepishly down at you - you blink, and your best friend was suddenly back. Eyes hooded, mouth snarling, looking ruined. What the fuck. “-he really seems to like your scent and it’s driving me-”

“Stop talking, boy, and mate the girl.”

“Shut up.” 

You blink almost owlishly in disbelief, and in something…else, as you feel your thighs clench together. A slight motion that Venom surely doesn’t miss, if the way that Choso’s lungs heave with more gulps of your sweet, sweet leaking pheromones was anything to go by.

And then, you’re finally piping up– “Let…let me see that tongue of Venom’s again?”

.

.

.

“A-are you sure? W-we’re best friends, and I’ve never…”

You’d be rolling your eyes at the repeated question if it wasn’t for the fact that Choso Kamo just looked so pretty when he was knelt obediently at the very foot of your bed. 

A thin sliver of sweat sliding down his temple, breaths coming out in heated gusts, slender hands balling into a fist and shivering once you smear your legs open just a fraction more. Twitching, white-knuckled like he was forcing himself to not just ruin you right then and there. 

“Mhm.” You’re nodding, and the very action is enough for him to snap his eyes down where your cotton panties were starting to dampen and swallow. “Please, handsome- don’t be coy.”

It was almost too good to be true. 

But, fuck, Choso wasn’t waiting around ‘till he wakes up from this dream.

With so much pent-up eagerness that he felt his lips twist into a sleazy grin- Choso’s crawling himself the few inches it was to stuff himself nose-deep between your pretty legs. 

“O-oh.”

First it was the tiniest tug on your restless hips, then it was a sniff- and then it was a bite of his honed, glossy pearly whites over the lacy lil’ bow homed on the hem of your underwear. A throaty groan snarling through his teeth– “Oh, baby…”

That did it-

Quick as a flash, he’s snagging his teeth on the flimsy fabric of your panties and all but tearing it off of you. Rip-rip-ripping to simply push its tatters to the side, Choso doesn’t even fully take it off before he was simply drooooling. 

Gulping and gulping the scent of your leaking hole. 

“Sweet.” He gasps out, words taking on a dark edge. And you swear the chocolate color of his irises looked as if they were almost glowing, “So sweet.”

“Hurry, the symbiote hungers.”

Sharp jaw ticking as he ignores Venom’s request, the fattened pad of his thumb spanks down on your swollen pussylips and spreads you all wide open. Cock twitching at the deafening wet squelch! that chimes once he gathers copious wads of saliva and spits. 

All over your lustrous cunt, slicking out a mess so great that it was already starting to form a puddle underneath your silken sheets. 

“And mine.”

“Tch.”

And Choso wasn’t just greedy - he was outright gluttonous. 

“You…you taste this sweet, baby?”

“Oh- ohhhh fuck–!” You’re shrilling out a syrupy moan once his chilly tongue piercing flicks at the tippy-top hood of your clit like a lollipop. Taking extra care to press down hard so that it has you thrashing-

“There? S’that good?” He’s roaming his mouth over your puffed-up lips eagerly, yearning. Not knowing what he was doing, just addicted. “You’re so wet, baby- s’this for me- r-really, really f’me?”

He just couldn’t believe it- and the only answer he’s getting is a few soft gasps of oh! and yes! Spit n’ whines overflowing your tongue with every slap of his textured tastebuds. You couldn’t help but nod your head down and admire just how drunken Choso was as he’s suckin’ away on your perky clit. 

The hollows of his cheeks sucked-in and flushed red, spit-glossed mouth wrapped snugly ‘round your sensitive nub. 

You’re whimpering, head thrown back at the grunts he muffles out between your legs. 

“M-more, Cho–” You mewl out in a tone that makes his tensed hips rut forward like an animal, immediately grinding against the firm base of your bedframe. Fuck. Snaking a hand down to intertwine with his mussed-up bangs, and tugging them free of his bun- “Wan’ more.”

“More.”

“Hear that? I wanna taste.”

His tongue’s so thirsty - throat so parched - that it lets out the most sinful sluuuuurp at the very first slobbery drag from the dewy base of your quivering pussy, openin’ up your plump folds so widely agape to lather down on the very top of your clit. 

Nodding and nodding and nodding- grinding up to tease the mushy tip of his tongue past your slippery folds just the tiniest bit. “More- please.”

And it’s not like Choso didn’t hear you - fuck, it’s that you’d broken him.

Because it happens in a singular nanosecond, it happens so fast you’re seeing cartoonish stars in your vision when he’s hauling you halfway across the bed like some glorified ragdoll. 

Thighs thrown over his shoulder, trembly hands guided through his sweaty scalp, mouth wolfish- 

“Keh. No wonder you’re a virgin, boy.”

“Sh-shut up.” He’s answering out loud, sending the most electric buzzes down your spine as he nips on the fleshy slope of your pussylips. His own ears pop! as the pointed curve of his chin hits your treacly cunt with a smack of skin-on-skin, so deep. Nose-deep till those lined tattoos on his face. 

Ready to suffocate if he has to.

“Oi- give me a taste, and I’ll give her…more.”

Upper lip glueing to your pussy, Choso’s making you scream every time the sharp ends of his fangs snag on your clit. “Shut up shut up shut up-‘

“Ch-Cho?” Fuck, it takes you every ounce of strength in your body to lift your head up from your creaky bedsprings. Glassily eyeing the way that his grip on your hips turns bruising with semi-circular claw-marks of his, “Everything hah! alright?”

And shit- he breaks off slightly from your dripping wet pussy once- twice. Thrice, each n’ every time letting off a pained grunt that forces him back to stuff himself at his favorite spot between your legs.

He couldn’t even break off to speak. To breathe.

Still murmuring his response at the outer edges of your saturated core, with so many numerous strings of slick dangling from his rovering, swollen lips. Gingerly, “It’s V-Venom, he…wants a taste too.”

“Oh.”

And shit- Choso didn’t need Venom’s superhuman abilities to notice the instant that you’re growing so much wetter. A silky torrent of sap gushing out of you to lacquer your inner thighs like a fountain, already making him lurch- and suck and suck up every pearly droplet.

“I…” You’re starting off, lip chewed underneath your teeth in a way that almost makes him jealous. The memory of his extravagant tongue still fresh in your mind, “-wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh? Well…”

“-about time.”

As Choso lets Venom take over, you can’t help but gasp.

Oh, you were never getting used to this. 

He was about two feet taller, hulking, monstrous. And the only thing more lecherous than that toothy grin he wore was his tongue - sliiiiding out all its endless inches and swaying teasingly to n’ fro in midair. Big. 

So, so big. 

“Eyes…” He’s looming over until scalding hot breath humidifies your features, tonality so gruff that it rumbles your very bones. Oh, he already knows of his effect on you - can flick his tastebuds out and taste it in the saccharine air. “Lungs…pancreas…”

The curly, reddened end of it stingingly slapping down on your thigh, Venom’s tongue is oh-so-long enough that he can lace it all over your shivering leg and wrench them further and further open–

“Pussy.”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart- just a few solid, thorough inches of Venom’s slimy tongue burrowing past your puffy folds, keeping your jolting legs pinned firmly by a few of his Stygian spirals. 

One taste. One taste is all it takes. 

You’re being rendered utterly stupid by the swashing flicks of his pointed muscle stirrin’ up your insides, wriggling in circular slurps around and around and around your gummy walls. Scarfing you down until his tongue reaches the very gooey bottom of your cunt and kisses your cervix. 

So hard that you’re pushed up the mattress and he’s forced to wrap a few tendrils that reel you back down again. 

“Heh, finish line.”

“What- oh…oh my god-” Tears drip down in constant rivers from your heavy lids, wailing whimpers breaking off from your larynx at every smack-smack-smack he left on that spongy end. Further pushing aside your panties, retracting aaaaaalll the way back to thruuuust- “Y-your tongue is sooo big.”

“So many snacks. How good.” He’s tittering out with a thundering pant, spiked ends of his canines littering your skin with gnawing bites. “How delicious. How…”

He’s sloshing his tongue almost aggressively inside, whacking your g-spot in-between his barreling journey to fuck you with his tongue just as much as he wanted to with his cock. 

Lolling sloppily, thrusting, dragging the ridges of his tastebuds across your g-spot. 

And it takes you a few more vulgar strokes, it takes you the sound of that familiarly melodic voice for you to flap your tear-heavy lashes open and finally look once more between your legs. “-mine.”

It’s almost as if both Choso and Venom couldn’t decide on who wanted to make out with your soft, candied pussy more. 

Because it was your best friend’s pretty upper half of his face peeking out from between your splattered legs, but Venom’s mouth that was pumpin’ addictively past your rubbery entrance. Over and over. 

“N-ngh pleeease!” Comes out your repeated record of whines, every mushy gyration so good that you can’t help but rock into every second of his frenzied cadence. Creeping down one of your hands to smear your pussylips wider with a soppy slurp so that he could go even deeper, “I-it’s so good- don’t stop don’t stop.”

And the look in Choso’s dark eyes is the most raw glint of disbelief that you’ve ever seen.

Unsteady thighs clenching as he hits his v-line against the wooden board of your bed and grinds, unwilling to angrily fist his raging cock the way he ached n’ leaked to, unwilling to take his hands off of you for a mere second.

“N-no no, move that hand, baby. Lemme see her- Please.” You’ve never seen your cute best friend dare to be so rude- urgently swatting away those few fingers of yours to replace with his own knobbly, greedy ones. 

Pressin’ on your weeping, swollen clit with the flat end of his digit - you’re coating his chipped black nail polish with so many layers of goopy slick that it trickles down to his wrist. 

And oh, you’d almost forgotten just got many frigid metal rings that Choso wore on his hot fingers. Sappily nuzzling the inside of your left thigh the very moment he’s slipping his middle past your widely messy hole and curling–

 “How could I? How c-could I stop?” He’s muttering away - octaves higher than you’re used to, hitting and hitting your bruised and battered g-spot at the very same tempo that Venom was, too.

Double whack after whack that made your spine arch curvaceously off of the dampened mattress, icy edges of his rings scraping your walls. Choso just salivates at the heavenly sight of you below him, “How could you even- think- I’m-”

“-addicted.”

And Venom chooses just this precise moment to make your stupidly muddled mind remember his presence until you can’t think at all. 

Prolonging his plumply constricted tongue - using his symbiotic powers and extending it even more feet stuffed inside your tightly cozy walls, slashing the very tip to become split-ended. 

“Pretty. Pretty pussy.” He’s groaning out carnally, and your throat rips with a scream once he’s starting up a thrusting pace that flicks at your weeping cunt with those two slithering ends of his monstrous tongue. “Don’t know who’s prettier- you or…”

You’re shivering then - shivering at the windy gust of air inhaled once Venom tugs you even closer by his black coils and sniffs. Breath hot, his French kiss on your pussy hotter. “-her.”

“Fuck- fuck, you’re making such a mess, Choso.”

“Mhmmmm—”

Shifting between both his tongue and Venom’s - every transformation had you dizzy. Alternating between Venom’s hard, almost violent thrusts with his split-end tongue to Choso’s sensual tickling of his piercing into your most favorite spots. 

Glittery slick and spittle dripping down like a glazing polish, Choso’s swallowing down every sweet gumdrop like he’s a man starved. 

Like a damn dog in heat, every pant of the honeyed pheromones between your legs was driving him fucking mad. Making his hips thrust-

“Sh-she’s drooling almost as much as ngh- me, baby.” He’s fighting back that damn parasite for more more more of you- for every squelch! once he’s mazing his second, third lengthy finger inside. 

Searching for your g-spot like treasure trove - hitting and hitting, you’re so pretty and gone that Choso’s chuckling. “Ride it.” Pap-pap-pap goes his hits to your delicate, most tender spots, faster. “Ride it- yeah, ride m’f-face like it’s yours, baby- ride it.”

“S-shoooo much–” And you don’t know whether it’s the torrents of slicked saliva falling from your mouth or the sheer overstimulation that has you jumbling up your syllables - but it’s enough to make both Choso and Venom grin. “It’s so ngh- haaaa–”

“She’s close.”

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s spitting into your drooling lips, right above your pulsating nub. Ringed digits so thick that it makes your knees shake and weaken. Sloppy. “Faster. Harder. Use me, baby-”

Again and again and again.

Your brain’s fuzzily stupid by the time you finally recognize that familiar twist at the bottom of your tummy, too. Blubbering out an unsteady, “P-please! M’not gonna- ngh! last, Cho.”

“I know- I know I know I know– make a mess.” He’s spitting out once more, letting a wad of saliva stream straightly down your slit and liiicking it all up before Venom overtakes him to keep on probin’ your entrance fully. Swirling every speckled tastebud until it was like the symbiote was trying to brand you–

And with a gluttonous swipe at the fresh beads of slick homed on top of your nub, Choso wastes no time before pinching your clit- 

“Cum. Cum on my tongue, baby. Mine.”

-and making your field of vision simply shatter with tears once you’re crashing into that built-up high. 

“Shit- shiiiiit. I-it feels so good, Cho- I’m- nghhh I’m…” It was an orgasm like no other- fuck, any of your toys were paling in comparison to Choso and his…parasite. 

Fully himself now, you gawk with your mouth unlatched into a sagging oh! at the primal way that Choso’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs with each eager swallow. Thin lines of sappy slick falling from the pink, puckered corners of his lips and waterfalling all down the side of his damn throat. 

“Th-tha’s it-” His sopping wet tongue drags uuuup n’ down your open folds to trawl you through your euphoria, every lolling flick of the curled end jostling against your thoroughly-stuffed folds.

Pumping, pounding your glutinous walls until they’re sticking to his barreling digits like adhesive, the metallic band curving his fingers smooches your g-spot softly. Dimly-lit molten eyes widening at the sheer ribbons of sap you’re letting off with every white-hot bolt of pleasure.

“This- this is all f’me–?” He’s crooning out, dazed. Letting his jaw fall open with every quiver you’re instinctively clenching with your cunt, “All for me- me. More- more, baby.”

“For me, you mean.”

Choso- Venom- Choso just keeps on alternating their slobbering drags of your hips until you’re completely wrung dry. Even the tiniest spank of their rugged tastebuds making you squeal with overstimulation, tears pinpricking behind your eyes. 

“Aw, c-c’mon–” Your best friend slurs out in a tingling, pussydrunken tone - so gone that his perspired head falls n’ cuddles your thigh. Begging, “M-more…?”

“But Cho…m’sensitive.”

And he’s perking his head up like the thought didn’t even occur to him - only then do you get a final, filthy look at your best friend after so long. 

Grinning, he sucks on each of his polished, soppy fingers. Each and every one - looking right into your dilated pupils, “That was my first time.”

Fuck.

He was pretty. 

Granted, you always did know that, but right now - with Choso’s dark strands of hair hooding his half-opened gaze, what little you could see of his eyes gleaming, cheekbones burning scorched red - he was dreamy.

He’s wearing your saccharine wads of slick like a medal of honor. 

Thickly coating everywhere from the tattoo on his nose, to the lower half of his face, to bubble all down his jaw. A slippery wire of it spills from the corner of his mouth as it starts moving, an almost airy tone seeping into his voice. “I-I’m never wiping this off- hey!”

Before he knows it, Venom’s tendrils dart out to filthily lick off the remnant excess his host cherished so much.

Grinning, “Delicious.”

Fighting back his damn alien acquaintance, you stifle a giggle as Choso’s rosy lips jut out into a pout. Lifting his knee onto the bed- well, grindin’ it right between your legs so that he’s putting pressure on your throbbing slope. 

Fleshy thumb and index squeezing your cheeks together, “Spit in my mouth.”

“Wh-what?”

“Spit-” His sweaty forehead sticks against yours, humid breath clouding up your senses. And you could count every long lash, every smudge of his dark eyeliner. Hiccuping, “-in my mouth.”

And the moment you do- fuck, the moment you’re pursing your spit-glued lips to let out a saccharine web of saliva that slops right down his pinkish tongue with a splat! So loud and filthy and sinful that Choso only as the time to breath out a shallow ‘fuck!’ before he’s cumming.

Burning hot and feverish. Right then and there to create a dripping damp spot in his trousers- “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit- you’re t-too-”

“Great going, virgin.”

“Shut up-” Choso grits through clenched teeth, desperately trying to heave his breaths back into some semblance of normalcy. Failing, once you immediately reach over and tug his sweatpants down-

He was cumming and cumming so much that you’re met with a white, streaming wet mess that gleams down both of Choso’s meaty thighs. They’re shivering with each ribbony string of seed that oozes down his long limbs, “O-oh, so pretty, Cho.”

“Oho? She’s an interesting one.”

“I-I know…”

And you’re not just talking about his orgasm.

Because when you’d imagined - on those long, lonely nights - that your best friend would be big…you didn’t expect that he’d be big. 

Damn near ten- no, maybe even eleven inches of fat, hot girth that swelled his mushroomy tip to be as cutely pink as a strawberry and just as thick. 

Your mouth waters as you follow the winding lightning patterns of his puffy veins, oh-so-prominently bloated that you swear you could count every throb-throb-throb. 

And what- what was that?

No, you weren’t imagining it. Choso Kamo had a tiny studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the tip-top of his bulging cockhead. Cold and sparkling underneath the dim bedroom lighting. 

Mindlessly, you’re darting over to swipe one of your thumbs across a creamy bead of cum that’d started drenching his dark happy trail.

“O-oh.” Choso grunts at the look on your gorgeous face once he’s letting his chubby balls twitch n’ soak your skin with yet another splurging streak of seed. Again. Just from you touching him. “No one’s ever touched me like this- fuck!”

And you just had to find out whether he tasted as sweet as he looked.

Planting your mouth over his juice-capped head with a wet plop! you hum with utter delight at the caramel salted taste of him. Aching and pulsing underneath his piercing with just the tiniest kitten lick to his leaking orifice. 

“Do it, boy.”

“Wh-what?”

“Do it. I’m inside your mind, do it.”

And Choso really wouldn’t have considered being that rude - really. 

He really, really wanted to take his time slow n’ sultry with the one person who’s been the girl of his dreams from the moment he met you.

But fuck- Venom was jerking his body so that with the slightest rock, he’s rutting like a fucking animal deep inside the hot cavern of your mouth. Staining a milky white lipgloss around your plumpened lips, pushing his seed inside—

Venom wanted to see you choke.

“M-mmpf—!” And you can’t lie about the way the sheer force and heady musk of Choso’s v-line made your thighs squeeze.

“That’s it- cry. Cry on my cock- atta girl.”

“Fuck! I’m sorry-” He’s panicking from above as your pretty nose detaches from the curly black tuft of hair at his toned pelvis. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, baby. Are you-”

Only…for all his concerned apologies to shrivel up on Choso’s tongue when he catches the way you’re smiling. 

Cockdrunk and stinging at the back of your throat with the way that Venom had actually elongated Choso’s already-massive cock just a few more centimeters by accident. Oh, fuck…

The hazed look that’d crept into your eyes as you look up makes the towering man shiver. Striking him to his very cock, “C’mon- fuck me, Cho.”

“C’mon. Don’t wanna disappoint the pretty girl.”

Choso doesn’t even remember getting rid of his undershirt, his sweatpants, everything but his silver rings and necklace - but what he does remember is the way your eyes had widened just the slightest fraction as you took in all of him.

Shit, was he sculpted by the Greek gods or what?

You could count every one of his eight, toned washboard abs - making the broad width of his pecs look so thick. So engulfing as they tense n’ ripple once your best friend slouches sexily on top of you to pull off your cotton t-shirt.

“Oh.” He’s gasping- you’re not wearing a bra. Completely naked underneath him except for the lecherous remnants of your torn panties still hanging on. 

Ones that he keeps on - even when you try to shuffle them down with a whine - once he’s flipping the two of you over to let you straddle his slenderly sculptured hips. 

“Keh- this position.”

“Shut up and watch.”

Blushing and pretty.

Choso’s teary lashes knock against the apples of his cheeks as he blinks furiously up at you, throat scratchily raw. Gulping more of your scent, “R-ride me, baby.”

“Cho–” You’re sliding the mounds of your ass gingerly against his aching hot length, shudders skittering down your spine at the sheer size of him pressing up into you. “Y-you’re so big, though- don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“I’ll make it fit-”

“A-am I actually that big?” He’s whispering, in awe. Watching with damply bated breath as he’s spanking his cock against your right ass cheek with a wet smack! smack! smack!

Pointing that curved, bulbous tip right between your pussylips and sliiiiiding it up n’ down so that you’re coating him in all your sweet juices, Choso’s guiding his girth until your hole was quivering for something - anything. 

Him him him. 

Panting at the first squeeze of his reddened, blushing tip- “Oh, you feel like th-this?” His pitched voice wavers almost as much as his heavy eyelids, falling apart with just that first taste of your perfect cunt. “Fuh-fuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck! Baby- you feel like this?”

This was heaven.

And he’s spurting out a few stray wads of cum just from feeling your velvety walls, letting it thwack! against your goopy innards n’ stick to your trembling folds. 

“You got it- you got it.” Choso’s voicebox cracks with a lil’ whimper at that snug resistance, “You can take it- you can take it. I’ll make it fit.”

“Oh- oh my god- Choso- Cho–!”

“S’it too biiig for my girl, hmm?” Croaking out in unison with the aged bedcoils of your mattress, each and every time Choso jerks his hips off the bed and pushes. Just to fit in. “Baby-” Choso gasps as you throw your head back with a mewl at the sheer size of him.

His painfully-aching cock was so big that just the stoutest inch being bullied inside was enough to make your vision blotch with white. Rounded circumference stretching n’ stretching your slick-flooded walls stupid- “I’m sorry, baby- sorry s’big. But you’re my girl- my girl can take it- you can…you can take it.”

It’s inch by overlarge inch.

Choso’s scraping his way down your walls so sensually that you could feel your fuzzy brain sparking every time one of his prominent veins was draaaagging a zig-zagging pattern along.

Curled toes twitching with each passing second, “S-s’it almost all the way in, baby–?”

“Mhm—” And you’re just letting out the cutest cry once he finally eases himself all the way in, practically impaling you. Head throwing back, tits bouncing, cunt overspilling. 

“Hmmm…maybe this position isn’t so bad.”

Choso didn’t disagree, but it took every single shred of rationality left inside of him to push back Venom’s rasping voice and wrench out a desperate thrust. Allll the way from the globular ends of his ruby-red tip till your sensitive pussy tickled against his soaked-through happy trail.

Tenderly caressing your palm down his hardened front, “I-it’s in–?” Your hitched tone makes his eyes roll back, and yet- and yet, he’s fighting to bring them back down n’ watch your gaped bounces back into his sloppy pace. “It’s in. O-oh my god, c-can feel you all the way in hck! here.”

He’s just so big.

And you’re swearing that Choso only fattens himself even bigger, fatter, wider once you slide your hand about halfway up your tummy. Feeling for that one spot he was bruisin’ right into your spongy cervix.

Biting his lip not to cum again, “Yeah-” You’re jostled ever-so-slightly on top of him as he’s sucking in a deeeep breath, “Yeah yeah yeah- you got it. Y-you better take all of it hngh! Take every. Single. Inch.”

Every vein, every sliding ridge, every throb that was bucked into your readily-awaiting entrance- Choso wasn’t just mazing open your cunt- 

He was spearheading you with such thorough thrusts that made your back curve backwards just so.

“Tch- I’d fuck her even better.”

“No you w-wouldn’t.”

Lazily weaving tendrils start tickling your outer pussy, threatening to slip n’ slide their greedy way past your lips. “Is that a challenge? Summon Venom, if you dare.”

“What’s he saying, Cho?” You coo, tear-shimmered lashes blinking adorably down at his internal argument. And as if he could ever say no to you - hell, the response is dripping from his tongue before he even realizes it.

Grouching out, though he couldn’t deny the way his own cock was jolting at the very idea- “H-he wants a try, too…says he’ll be even better.”

A cockdrunk smile plasters itself onto your face- “Prove it.”

And you were right in your prediction - Venom didn’t just make Choso meaner, it made him bigger. 

So big, in fact, that the bawling tip gently kissin’ your g-spot was instantaneously skidding past to give your cervix a longer, harsher probe. 

So hard that you’re sure there’s now a permanent crater of his exact meaty circumference. And you’re being filled with the distinct feeling that Venom could’ve gone bigger - he just didn’t want to break you…yet. 

Draping across his oversized pectorals, you’re nothing against his over eight foot height. “Y-you…”

Those slimy raven molasses covering his half-fucked face once more to form a rude Cheshire-cat smile. “Me.” Planting an Earth-shattering, mind-numbing ram you’re feeling all the way in your lungs, his pulsing length is so widely thick that Venom has to bite down on his lips and manhandle you for his thrusts to move to and fro. “I am inside your pussy, greedy girl. Me.”

Flicking his dexterous shaft to brush your tingling g-spot, he’s using his powers so much that you could almost feel yourself bonding with the symbiote, with Choso.

“I know every inch, nerve, and spot inside of you. I can make you scream-” Coiling mass contracting to barrel your elastic walls even wider, you’re rightfully crying out at the way he molds himself deliciously into your very walls. 

“Nghhh- fuck! Fuck, y-you’re in sooo deep-”

Stealing your sweetened scent, making him heated. “Hmmm, kiss me.”

But that didn’t mean that your best friend- your…Choso was going down that easy.

In a few more brushstrokes of his ravaging cock against your softest spot - before you can kiss him - Choso’s blinking back the cobwebs of his symbiote so that his face spies out. Only the lower half of his body - his length - partially-covered–

“Keh- annoying.”

“Should’ve- should’ve done this sooner-” He hisses out through a narrowed pant, flecks of spittle flying angrily across the non-existent space between your two faces. “-done this muuuuch sooner- you h-have no idea.”

“O-oh nghhh fuck fuck fuck–” The backs of your thighs ache after every slamming pap! you’re bouncing back into his swervin’ hips. 

Pounding away like he was crazed, every jackhammer only makes Choso grow more feral. Every swab of his prolonged cock inside your silken pussy feral-

His rummaging, fat-tipped shaft was so large that you could feel the way his ridged cockhead scraped your cervix with his studded Prince Albert’s, roaming like a searchlight to spot your most favorite angles.

Eyeliner practically staining down his cheeks now, “Should’ve fuh-fucked you the moment I ngh- met you. Should’ve fucked you r-right there on the lecture table in front of everyone- sh-should’ve—” You’re squealing once his doughy, ringed fingertips dart down to toy with that pretty lil’ clit of yours. “-should’ve let her drive me hck! crazy sooner, baby.”

Oh, he was babbling. 

Cooing, you slither one of your hands through the dampened valleys of his dark hair, “Awww– d-drivin’ you crazy, Cho–?”

“Yes.” He’s seething, he’s heaving. Saturated pheromones driving him mad, he can’t help but flop his pierced tongue across your lips and suck. “S-s’not even that damn parasite anymore-”

Pace growing sloppier by the minute, barely even noticing when those same digits coddling your clit had started to twist and turn in shape. Overtaken by Venom and his meeeean tendrils that alternate between dragging on your overstimulated clit and slipping inside…

“Sh-shit– Venom?”

“Sayin’ another man’s name when I-I’m here- ngh–” Choso’s nosebridge crinkles as he teases you, watery honeypool eyes dropping down to where your glossy hole was swallowing him whole. 

Mouth falling into an ah! at the way Venom’s wisping vines were still wrapped snugly to smooch your walls wiiiide open. And fuck- fuck, the sight. The sight of you bulging with all of his staggering cock still taking in more, more, more of him.

“I see…” He’s giggling - giggling, glassy eyes boring dead-on up at you through his curtained bangs and oh- they were shaped into hearts. Baritone voice rasping as one of his veins itches your walls, snagging past your underwear. “Greedy girl.”

It’s almost as if you didn’t know whether it was Choso or Venom taking over now, only fucked dumb with every sharp jut. Both his cock- his tentacle-like strands spreading you open, targeting your g-spot over n’ over with his plummy, split-ended tip. 

Digging inside, scouring so wetly.

Spread twice as open that the squelch! squelch! squelch! of it resonating each nanosecond was quickly becoming Choso’s favorite song. 

You were damn near shattered.

“I-I’m so close-” You’re hiccuping through your salty tears, brows scrunching at the stormy wave of bliss that was surely oncoming. “-f-fuck! Choso m’gonna cum.”

“Fuck- fuck, m’not gonna last either–” His response comes out guttural, and it’s just so sexy the way that he’s forced to gnaw on the strawberry gummy texture of the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from filling you up right then and there. 

Tender, aching balls squeezing dangerously before-

“Breed her.” Venom’s voice thunders out enough for the both of you to hear, excitement spiking down your spine and straight to where your pussy was drooling. “I know you want to. I know you both want it.”

Shocked, Choso sounds as if he could still barely even believe this was all real. “I-is that true, baby?” Tentatively craning you over to drag his lips softly against yours, “Can I really…inside…my girl?”

“Mhm– please- please, I wan’ it all inside—!” 

“G-get ready.” 

The plush, cushy tip of his cock outlines a water-logged line straight down your cervix as Choso leans further into the bed. Feet planting down flatly so that he can pressurize his powerful, inhuman hips to thrust-

“She’s about t-to be full- so full.” You can feel such pangs of desire as his teeth pull back into a primal snarl, tear-glinted eyes locked permanently where his red, swollen cock was disappearing between your legs. “So full that you won’t even remember what it ngh- feels like w-without me stuffed inside this cunt.”

Squirming with a yearning for sweet, sweet release once he hovers a fingertip over to about halfway up your tummy and draws an invisible line there.

“H-here.” Deepening it with the pressure of his rude digits, Choso’s right hand still rolls over your clit with a few shapes of hearts. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Get ready here–”

Whining, “I’m- I’m gonna-”

Before Venom’s slimy tendrils pinch it once more and you’re cumming- and so is he. 

But Choso doesn’t even realize it - doesn’t even remember to breathe the very moment you’re creaming all down his pummeling cock. Such cute twitches taking over your body as you shut your eyes and riiiide it all out. 

Using his sloppily saturated shaft like a dart that was pokin’ the bullseye of your pussy again and again. Every brushing skid straight across slapping your g-spot repeatedly to drag out your high with a squeeeelch.

And Choso’s licking his lips at the glossy lathering that glued to your folds, then - and only then - catching sight of the dollops of creamy white that was frothing out of your glistening entrance. 

Thick and hot. 

Every splat! of his ribbony sap hits the back of your pussy like heavily condensed cream, swashing inside of you like a sizzling second skin. It feels so filthy to have his mess beading down your walls and forming such a soaking ring ‘round his bulky hilt. 

Your meaty folds spread to smear the puddle that was forming up his happy trail, “You- you feel so good inside.”

“O-oh-” Almost thankful as Venom’s dark strands push aside your torn, sullied panties further for his host to take a better look. Blushing all the way to the tattoos across his nosebridge, “A…a creampie.” 

He’d cum- he’d really, really cum - inside of you. Pressing down on the prettily jiggling tummy bulge he was fucking into you- and it’s enough to make you scream. “Want more.”

And you’re just tapering off from your own orgasm, eardrums nearly popped yet still managing to register those words. Clenching, “Wh-what? Will it- hngh- even fit, Choso?”

“No- nononono it will- it will.” Urgent, rapidly he’s flipping the two of you immediately over to hover on top of you and rut- like an animal. 

You’re gasping once your head plops down on the soft mattress, heels struggling to cling onto Choso’s sweat-laminated hips until he’s trekking his beefy arms underneath and hauling them over his shoulders. Bending, bending, bending into a–

Oh, a mating press. 

He had you manhandled like some lawnchair into a mating press. The sloppiest of its kind, he’s using Venom’s tendrils to lock your ankles together in just two blinks of his eye.

“I can make it fit–” Growling through the tiniest gaps of his grit pearly whites, he kisses his forehead to yours and inhales that sweet scent of yours still permeating the heady air. The chilly heard pendant of his necklace hits the front of your chin and makes you keen. Rough, rugged through punctuating rams, “I will- I will I will- it’ll fit- It will.”

Shivering and shuddering. 

He struggles to even focus his eyesight on you properly - and Choso’s heated maw droooops at the deafening squelch! your pussy pushes out once he sinks all the way back in.

A thick capping of white syrup rising all the way to the top once his massive girth once more fills out your every nook and cranny. He’s still so ravenous that the sight down there is enough to make his mouth water. 

And this position, this angle made Choso’s elongated shaft lean into your g-spot so bruisingly that with only a few more strokes you’re cumming again. 

Fleeting, and faster than you both know it.

It’s only once Choso sniffs at the air and grins that he realizes the rapidly pulsing ba-dump–! of your velveteen walls was because you’re bein’ his good girl and cumming once more. 

Heavy breeder balls striking the treacly slope of your cunt until they were raw and red - you’re sure that the both of you are bruised everywhere. His thighs on your own, your ass on his pelvis, you can’t even wriggle your ankles free because Venom’s keeping a firm grip on them.

Rendering you at the full mercy of Choso’s thrashes dragging out your high, “P-please- fuck- it just f-feels too good, Cho-!”

“S’good- s’good-” He’s flushing out in something that looks like a mix of relief and need. No sooner milking himself on your tightly clenched pussy until you’re being filled all over again.

This time with white, wispy ropes of seed that ache his sensitive shaft to spray out, still coating your gummy walls with viscid layers upon layers. So much.

“So good f’me- so good. Look how much sh-she’s ngh- suckin’ in, sooooo full and- and warm…” He was practically twitching right now, trembling. “Jus’ look at that greedy girl.”

You couldn’t even be moved without feeling all its wads splosh inside of you.

And he still wanted more. 

Yelping, your legs struggle to shut once his sloppy cadence turns even sloppier. Lazier. 

“O-one more-” Choso’s puffing out in a clouded pant, “Keep- keep those pretty legs hck! open f’me- I beg. M’begging- take it, baby.”

Vein-covered forearms placing attractively upon either side of your head to lace right on top of your crowned scalp and push- Weaving wines of the symbiote winding down to furiously pump his cock.

To bloat himself up oh-so-thick straight after two whole orgasms, flying up and down up and down up and down to make his cherry-red divot start weeping once more. “One more- one more.”

“Nghh fuck fuck- Choso–!” Your lower lip wobbles cutely at the carnal glissade of his washboard abs down your own front, he was so strong that you could count every flex and ripple. “S-shooo sensitive-” Eyes shuttering tearfully, you can only jerk your hips up weakly. “-so much. Too much.”

“Never too much.”

Venom’s voice speaks up from somewhere, and you’re feeling the snaking, slimy journey of his tendrils twistin’ around your tits to grope. A greedy handful that teases your hardened nipples so–

“Less talking. More fucking.”

“W-woah-” Choso breathes at the sight before him. You were ruined in only ways he’d seen in his wettest dreams - and it’s not like he was doing any better. Because the way your hips were moving…“B-birthing hips- look at h-her take that big fuckin’ cock. So pretty- so pretty so pretty so pretty.”

You’re so overstimulated that even the slightest brush of his lightning bolted veins makes you gasp- tears springing up to your eyes. “F-feels so…oh.” So good, his stamina was maddening. 

“Yeah? Yeahhh? S’all for you- only for you-” Purposefully pressing up close so that your poor clit gets rubbed over by that patch of tawny brown at the base of his abs. 

And by now, even Choso’s swivellin’ cold piercing was molten hot and drawing wet slides of cum across your walls. Fervently. 

He was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough - would never possibly be able to get enough. Every thrust had him pushing you down once more after the papping recoil, gliding your feverishly sweat-slicked bodies against each other because Choso couldn’t bear to part. “Only for you only for you only for you-”

So gone that he almost doesn’t even register Venom’s deep tone muttering in his ear– “Three.”

Every heated bang of his mushroomy tip plummeting to the back of your overspilling cunt was meant to milk himself. Over and over, he’s tempting out just one more orgasm - just one more to fill you up with more cream. “Two.”

And in your rambling stupor, you’re being drilled into the mattress so spellbound that you don’t even notice the way your unfastened mouth nibbles on Choso’s sexy silver necklace. 

“One.”

Gnawing on for dear life as you squirt.

“Oh.”

Simply spraying him with a voluminous heap of your sweet, sappy juices - Choso has the mindless audacity to crane his head even further downwards and catch whatever stray remnants hit his awaiting maw.

“F-fuck…” You feel like you’ve just been put through ten thousand wringers and milked dry from your poor, tingling core. Gushing and gushing- it’s almost embarrassing how much you’re leaking around Choso’s meaty base. 

Well, embarrassing for everyone but Choso…and Venom.

He was mesmerized - he was hypnotized. A glistening few droplets of pussydrunken drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as he just watched himself get drenched in all your torrential orgasm whilst he emptied out for the third- fourth, fuck he doesn’t even know - inside you.

Raw, and messy - milking himself until he’s hitting a damn dry orgasm. 

“O-oh.” Choso doesn’t even know what to fucking say above your cutely trilling mewls, every languid pump of his flinching cock sending massive shockwaves through both of you. He blushes, “Oh.”

“That was fun. Now, make her yours or I will.” Venom grumbles, the symbiote already starting to take over Choso’s body with its blackened mass. 

And the man jolts- remembering all at once that this was you you you underneath him. Thumb absent-mindedly reaching down to write his last name over the mess spurted across your tummy. 

You, who he’s wanted all his life- 

“M-marry me, my girl.”

The smile that breaks across your face is one he’ll remember for eons. 

“I love you, too, Cho–” You’re purring, tucking one of the mahogany strands plastered onto his forehead behind his ear. 

“I love you.” He’s bursting out at once- rose-pink lips wobbly and wet against your own. He’s kissing you like he needed you to breathe, “I love you- oh, how I love you.”

“Satisfying. But we need more.” 

“Dammit.”

And Venom doesn’t care - Venom cackles to himself as he seethes in yet another gust of your honey-dipped scent and pulls out. The sensitivity startling through your body is so shocking that he’s shooting out a dark web that attaches your hips to the bed. Unmoving. 

But, of course, he takes his leisurely time to stroll near the edge of your bed. Monstrously hulking over it to sweep apart your bloated pussylips and watch the way Choso’s cum driiiiips out.

Now completely encompassing his body— “A three course meal. Yum.”

He was far from done.

You’re sobbing at the sloooooow draaaag of his glistening, large tastebuds down your weeping hole. Unapologetic and primal. “F-fuck! Your stamina…” It was truly monstrous just how pent-up that he was right now, being pushed off by your new boyfriend- fiancé? for so long now.  

Holding you tight with a few tendrils ‘round your waist to keep you from running—

“We’re going to keep this one.” His long, venomous teeth sink into your inner-thigh, not toxic to you. Not at all, but claiming; and the feeling was as good as cumming again. “You’re ours now, pretty girl.”

A/N. RAHHH I TOLD Y’ALL I’D DO IT MWAHAHAHAH-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[willgrahamscock]

stop trying to silence me

[doviled]

fwb higuruma is jealous of your growing relationship with nanami.

higuruma knows he has no right to feel jealous. he was the one to set the terms when you first got together, to ensure you both stayed just on the right side of casual. you’re not dating, you’re not committed, you’re not anything more than friends that fuck occasionally. it’s all he’d allow himself. it’s all he thought he needed from you, until nanami kento came into the picture.

the shift occurs seemingly overnight. one day, you’re fucking casually and laughing together right after. you stay the night, you have breakfast together, and he leaves for work with the evidence of your exploits carved into his back while his passion blooms across your skin. the next, you’re leaving as soon as you’ve come.

the first time it happens, he feels like he could be sick. you’ve just hooked up after a stressful day at work, and he finally can relax. finally, because he doesn’t realise quite how relaxing your presence is until you’re immediately sitting up, shaking your legs and arching your back on a long stretch.

“same time next week?” you ask conversationally. he stares, startled, and only thinks to nod as he watches you dress quickly. you’re not usually so quick to dress—most of the time, you both lounge naked in bed until the sun rises.

“got somewhere to be?” hiromi replies after a moment, brows furrowed in confusion.

you flash him a grin. “yeah. i have a date with that guy i told you about—nanami kento?”

nanami kento. the name quickly becomes the bane of his existence. more than the righteous anger of his job, more than the minor annoyances of daily inconveniences, that name pisses him off. it’s like a two-word trigger to ruining his day. the name nanami kento escapes your beautiful lips, and he’s forced to seethe in anger until the next time he gets you in his bed.

nanami kento takes over your life. higuruma learns about him slowly through quick asides and brief mentions. nanami is your age, he’s blonde, a business man that still makes time for you, a gentleman that always pays for you on dates. he buys you flowers, he opens the door for you, he lends you his jacket at the slightest shiver. he’s the picture-perfect boyfriend, and he’s clearly trying to get his teeth on you.

nanami kento drags you out of hiromi’s bed before the sun rises. he encroaches on your time together. you’ll be with hiromi, ranting about something that interests you, just to be interrupted by a text from nanami kento. you’ll be mid makeout and be called by nanami kento. you’ll be freshly fucked, breathless and lazy, then pick up your phone because you have plans with kento for dinner.

your time together is coming to a close. he knows it is. this nanami kento may be perfect, but there’s no world in which he’d be okay with you staying so close to a hook up. even when you both insist you’re just friends with benefits, he knows you’ve always toyed the line of something more. you’re too open, too vulnerable. twice a week, you fall into bed together. you fuck, you calm down with a leisurely make out and slow conversation, then you spend the night spooned in his arms. you wake together in the morning, share a quiet breakfast, and kiss each other on your way out his door to begin your commute to work together. you’re all but dating already.

so hiromi knows that sooner or later, he’ll be left behind in favour of a brighter prospect. why wouldn’t you? nanami kento is actually willing to commit, to give you more than vague promises of a potential future.

(but you keep going back to bed with him. what does it mean? how do you wake up in bed with him, spend your day with the perfect kento, then return home—no, not home, never home—to hiromi once more?)

he knows it’s his fault. wasn’t higuruma the one to set the terms of your arrangement? didn’t he say he wasn’t looking for anything serious? he knows he only has himself to blame. these are the consequences of his own actions.

yet, he watches as nanami kento visits you at work. he looks at you pulling nanami kento into a hug as you greet him, arms looping around the man’s neck as his hands rest respectfully on your waist, and he thinks: that should be me.

[hangenism]

ovulation week: pillow versus nanami (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) cw: nsfw

every time you were ovulating, nanami knew. he was so used to picking up your little habits, whether it was the exact time you woke up in the morning or the way you liked your coffee, so naturally he picked up those too.

this time, it was more obvious. you found yourself underneath him after he caught you slotting a pillow in between your thighs.

“kento,” you whined. you were squirming underneath him and very impatient. he took his time trailing kisses down your body, from your neck down, whispering sweet nothings into your skin. you loved your husband with all your heart, but you weren’t in the mood for that at a time like this. you were growing needier by the minute, and you were sure he didn’t miss the way you rubbed your thighs together absentmindedly in anticipation.

he paused and lifted his head slightly. “yes sweetheart?”

you reached out your hand and tugged on his waistband. “please.” you pleaded. your wide eyes told him everything he needed to know. he undressed the two of you before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“we’re gonna go slow at first so you can adjust, okay?”

you nodded and he pressed his tip to your entrance. he slowly entered you, rubbing small circles on your clit. you loved how thick your husband was, the way he stretched you out made you let out a small gasp. you clenched around him once he fully bottomed out, causing him to let out a low groan.

“sweetheart, if you keep that up, i’m not going to last.” he whispered softly.

as promised, he moved in and out of you slowly. he felt good, the delicious stretch sent a shiver down your spine. soft lips ghosted over your chest and neck. his flushed hips moved against yours at a steady pace. your warm walls hugged him tight, making him mutter curses under his breath.

“so tight,” he murmured. “my pretty girl is taking me so well.” your cunt fluttered at his words and you moaned into the pillow. you gripped his bicep, clutching it tightly as he set a faster pace. with each thrust, he buried you to the hilt, reaching that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“ken, you feel sososo good.” you babbled, the only thing on your mind being the addictive way his cock nudged against your velvet walls. the room smelled like a mixture of sex and his subtle cologne, and the only sound that filled the room was skin slapping skin.

nanami rested a hand over your stomach. “feel that?” your husband pressed down lightly on your stomach bulge. you tilted your head slightly and watched the way his dick pumped in and out of you with ease.

“yes!” you cried out. you clenched around him again, the sight alone turning you on more.

“better than that pillow, hm?” you whined softly, slightly embarrassed. of course he was bigger better than a pillow. a pillow would leave you horny with no relief. a pillow could never stretch you out like this and reach your g spot, let alone whisper sweet, yet filthy things into your ear as it absolutely ruins you.

only your husband could do that.

before you were about to come, nanami knew. "come for me my love. wanna feel you squeezing tight around me,” he murmered. at that, the orgasm washed over you. your thighs shook and you moaned into his name, milking his dick of everything it had. and he gave it to all to you. he emptied his seed deep inside your pussy, filling you up before collapsing on your chest with a soft groan. his lips brushed your ear as he whispered in your ear.

“remember, husband beats pillow in every universe.”

on queue ac: @ Neconi__oO on X taglist: @vanillaapples, @kamislop , @jiyuspassion, @valberryboos, @rengoatku, @palomakiss, @mykirstein, @popeheywardssecretgf, @kentonami, @sunnyfieldsz, @megssleepygirl, @bookenbash, @6x-x9 , @coveredinbloodyfangs, @gumballpython, @katsulee, @multi-fandomreaderwriter, @bowiesprettieststar2, @thebirdsarewatching17, @satolune, @pinkpantherrrrss, @0soleilmist, @v4mpyyb4tzz, @jjkklav, @jjkklav, @childishbimbino, @nctwayv127dream

[bloomflix]

“streamer! satoru x streamer! yn collab!! please !!" 𓆩♡𓆪

"chat, what the hell are you talking about? rottenyn?" satoru murmured, reading what his chat was sending him as he was streaming his screen, playing penguin heist on steam. he was asking his chat of around 20k viewers to potentially give him ideas on what to play next. rivals? valorant? even league maybe.

streamer! satoru a.k.a. sixeyesatoru was currently the top streamer on kick and twitch, and of course, he hung around his posse of streamer friends like nanaken and cursedsuguru to name a few. he wasn't aware of some "rando" like rottenyn? who the hell was that?

"chat said search her up." suguru snickered, leaning over to hit his vape to which he got smacked in the arm by streamer! satoru—the twitch partner. "chat also said she's been talking about you. ouuuu satoru. i've heard of her, she's chill."

streamer! satoru had his fair share of internet flings and crushes (obviously, it was a joke in his community regarding his type being h/c hair and e/c eyes), but he didn't know what to expect when he searched you up on twitter and instagram.

and no wonder why his chat was going insane with spamming your user... you were exactly his dream girl.

streamer! yn, who streamed herself doing popmart unboxings, occasional commentary on internet stuff and gameplay of the same games he did. she was a rising streamer who had gotten viral on tiktok and instagram. streamer! yn who was exactly his type and was on twitter, clipped saying that streamer! satoru was exactly her type.

"ijbol satoru just malfunctioned. chat shut up." he ended up following her on insta, tiktok, and twitter after the stream and got followed back minutes later—much to the amusement of his fans and yours too.

streamer! satoru, who's been secretly stalking your socials and talking about you to suguru and kento. how you're totally his type and is so talented in valorant and how you're so cool.

"didn't you think she was a rando when chat told you about her?"

"shut up suguru."

streamer! satoru, who got invited to one of streamer!sukuna's multi-streamer collabs and didn't expect for streamer! yn to be there, talking to suguru on one of the couches.

"hey satoru, we were just talking about you!" suguru smiled, standing up and leaving both of you alone. he turned to you, anxiously. you shot him a smile and you looked so cute and you smelled so nice and—was that the sweatshirt you were talking about in a stream of yours?

"i really like your streams! you actually inspired me to start streaming and i'm really happy i'm getting to talk to you!"

streamer! satoru basically internally combusted. he felt as if he would explode right now. "o-oh wow! i'm honored..."

"wanna collab sometime?" - "wanna go out sometime?"

you both blinked at each other, with your face burning and his twisting into a look of horror, all the while, the other streamers like ryokuna, nanaken, and tojilifts were just observing the unfortunately awkward situation you two were in.

"sure!"

"i am so sorry!"

the both of you could only hope that your blushing and awkward face didn't get clipped for the timeline later... but of course it did.

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i wanna write more streamer gojo like actually even tho i don't really watch streamers (except vanilla bc its vanilla and i have the fattest crush on her) but yayayaya