Masochiste

Nonbinary (they/them) I am a masochist I seriously need someone

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

CLARK KENT X READER

Warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

You've been with Clark Kent for months now, and every time things heat up, he holds back. His kisses are tender, his touches gentle, like he's afraid one wrong move could shatter you. You know why—Superman's strength isn't something he can just switch off. But tonight, in the dim light of your apartment, after a long day of him saving the world and you cheering him on from afar, you decide it's time to push.

You're on the couch, his broad frame hovering over you as you pull him down for a kiss. His lips meet yours softly at first, but you deepen it, nipping at his bottom lip, your hands tangling in his dark curls. “Clark,” you murmur against his mouth, “I want more. I can handle it.” He pulls back, those blue eyes searching yours, a flicker of hesitation mixed with raw hunger. “I don't want to hurt you,” he says, voice low and gravelly, his hand cupping your cheek like your fragile glass.

You shake your head, guiding his palm down to your throat, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You won't. Trust me. Let go.” Something shifts in him then—a spark igniting behind those eyes. He kisses you again, harder this time, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a possessiveness that makes your pulse race. His hands roam, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist, fingers digging in just enough to leave faint marks. You arch into him, encouraging, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you.

Clothes come off in a rush—your shirt yanked over your head, his button-up torn open with a rip that echoes in the quiet room. He pauses, staring at your bare skin, chest heaving. “Tell me if it's too much,” he rasps, but you nod, pulling him closer. He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom and tossing you onto the mattress with more force than usual. The bed creaks under your weight, and excitement coils tight in your belly.

Clark climbs over you, his massive body caging yours, and he doesn't waste time. His mouth latches onto your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, teeth grazing your pulse point as you gasp. One hand pins your wrists above your head, his grip iron—unyielding but thrilling. “I've wanted this,” he confesses, voice rough as he trails bites down your collarbone, nipping at the swell of your breasts. “To take you like you deserve.” His free hand shoves your pants down, fingers hooking into your panties and ripping them away with a sharp tug that makes you whimper.

Exposed and aching, you spread your legs for him, and he dives in without hesitation. His mouth finds your pussy, tongue flat and broad as he licks a long stripe up your slit, tasting your wetness. You buck against his face, but he holds your hips down, his strength keeping you pinned as he sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking it relentlessly. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he mutters, the words muffled against your folds before he thrusts his tongue inside you, fucking you with it in deep, insistent strokes.

Pleasure builds fast, your body trembling under his assault, but he doesn't let you cum yet. He pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with need. His pants are gone now—kicked aside—and his cock stands hard and thick, veins pulsing along its length, the head already leaking pre-cum. It's bigger than you remember, intimidating in the best way. “Ready?” he asks, but it's not really a question; he lines up and pushes in, slow at first, stretching your pussy around his girth.

You moan, walls clenching as he fills you inch by inch, but once he's buried to the hilt, the gentleness ends. Clark pulls out almost completely, then slams back in, the force jolting you up the bed. “Yes,” you cry, nails scraping down his back, urging him on. He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours, his cock pounding deep with every thrust. The headboard bangs against the wall, rhythmic and loud, matching the wet slap of skin on skin.

He releases your wrists to grab your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders and folding you in half. The angle lets him hit deeper, his tip battering your cervix in a way that borders on pain but tips into ecstasy. “Take it,” he grunts, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest as he fucks you harder, faster. One hand slides between you, thumb circling your clit roughly, adding sparks to the fire raging inside you.

Your breasts bounce with each powerful drive, and he leans down to capture a nipple in his mouth, biting down just hard enough to make you arch and scream. “Clark—oh god, don't stop.” He doesn't; if anything, he goes rougher, his free hand fisting the sheets beside your head as he rails you into the mattress. The bed groans in protest, but he doesn't care—neither do you. Your pussy flutters around him, so close, and he feels it, shifting to grind against that spot inside you with precision only he could manage.

“Cum on my cock,” he demands, voice breaking as his own control frays. You shatter, orgasm crashing over you in waves, walls milking him tight as you soak his length. He thrusts through it, prolonging the bliss until you're sobbing his name. Only then does he let go, burying himself deep one last time and flooding your pussy with hot cum, ropes of it spilling out around him as he roars your name.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms, both of you panting and spent. His hand strokes your hair gently now, the contrast making your heart swell. “Was that... okay?” he whispers, vulnerability peeking through. You smile, kissing his jaw. “More than okay. We should do that again.” He chuckles, holding you tighter, and you know this is just the beginning of him unleashing everything he's held back.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

CHANGED OF PLANS

GOJO X READER

Warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, carefully applying the final touches to your makeup. The date with Satoru was in less than an hour, and you wanted everything perfect—smoky eyeshadow blending into sharp eyeliner, lips painted a deep crimson that matched your tight black dress. Your heart raced a bit thinking about him, that cocky sorcerer with his endless confidence and piercing blue eyes hidden behind those dark shades. You smoothed down your hair, adjusting the necklace that dipped into your cleavage, when the door creaked open behind you.

Gojo sauntered in without knocking, as usual, his tall frame filling the doorway. “Hey, gorgeous, you almost ready? I figured I'd pick you up early—surprise you with some sweets from that bakery you like.” His voice was playful, but his gaze sharpened as he scanned the room. You turned to smile at him, but froze when you saw him pick something up from your nightstand. Your dildo. The thick, veined silicone one you'd hidden under a scarf, but apparently not well enough. It was realistic, about eight inches, with a suction base you'd used more times than you could count imagining him.

His lips curled into a wicked grin, those blindfold shades tilting up as he examined it. “What's this? A little secret toy for when I'm not around?” He twirled it in his hand, the weight making it swing slightly. Heat flooded your cheeks, ruining the calm facade you'd built with your makeup. You reached for it, stammering, “Satoru, give that back—it's nothing.” But he stepped closer, towering over you, his free hand catching your wrist gently but firmly.

“Nothing? Looks like it gets plenty of action. Bet you've thought about me while using it.” His voice dropped low, teasing but laced with hunger. Before you could protest, he pressed you back against the vanity, the edge digging into your hips. The mirror reflected your wide eyes, the first smudge of eyeliner already threatening from the flush on your skin. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck, and trailed the tip of the dildo along your thigh, pushing up the hem of your dress. “Let's see how it feels with me watching. Or better—helping.”

You gasped as he nudged your legs apart, the cool silicone brushing your panties. Your body betrayed you, arousal pooling despite the embarrassment. Gojo hooked his fingers into the lace and yanked them down, exposing your slick folds to the air. “Already wet for it? Good girl.”He positioned the dildo at your entrance, rubbing the head against your clit in slow circles that made your knees buckle. You gripped the vanity for support, your other hand instinctively reaching for your lipstick to fix the tremble in your lips, but he batted it away.

With a single thrust, he pushed the toy inside you, stretching your pussy around its girth. You moaned, the sound echoing in the room, your head falling back against the mirror. He didn't ease in—he fucked you with it steadily, pulling it out to the tip before slamming it back, the base slapping against your ass. “Look at you, taking it so well. Imagine if this was my cock instead.” His words sent shivers through you, and he amped up the pace, twisting the dildo to hit that spot deep inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

Your makeup started to falter. Mascara streaked down your cheeks from the tears of pleasure welling up, black rivulets mixing with the sweat beading on your skin. Gojo noticed, chuckling darkly as he reached up with his free hand to smear your eyeliner further, his thumb dragging across your lid. “Date makeup? Not anymore. You're mine now, ruined and perfect.” He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading as he continued pumping the dildo in and out. Your lipstick transferred to his lips, smudging across your chin when he pulled back to bite your neck.

You bucked against the toy, your walls clenching around it as the pressure built. Gojo's eyes—those intense blues finally revealed when he tugged off his blindfold—locked onto yours in the mirror. “Cum for me on this thing. Show me how bad you want the real deal.” He angled it deeper, grinding the base against your clit with each thrust. The vanity rattled, bottles tipping over—foundation spilling, powder puff scattering across the floor. Your reflection was a mess: eyes raccooned with kohl, lips swollen and glossy with smeared red, foundation streaked from his grip on your jaw.

The orgasm hit you like a curse, your pussy spasming around the dildo as you cried out his name. Gojo didn't stop, drawing it out until you were shaking, juices dripping down your thighs onto the carpet. He finally eased the toy out, holding it up glistening with your cum, and licked it once, tasting you with a smirk. “Date's canceled. Or postponed. We're not done yet.”He tossed the dildo aside and unzipped his pants, his hard cock springing free—thicker, hotter than the silicone. But that was for later; for now, he pulled you into his arms, your ruined face buried against his chest, the scent of your messed-up makeup mixing with his cologne.

As he kissed the top of your head, you realized the date could wait. This was better—raw, unexpected, and utterly him.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

TEASING

CEO!GOJO X READER

Warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

You're trembling beneath him, your claws digging into the sheets of the ruined bed as Gojo looms over you, that infuriating smirk plastered across his handsome face. His cock—thick, veined, and achingly hard—is nestled just inside your slick, hungry cunt, the tip barely breaching your entrance. He holds himself there, poised, teasing, letting you feel every twitch of his length against your sensitive walls. You gasp, arching your back, trying to push your hips up to take more of him, but he pulls back immediately, leaving you clenching around nothing.

"Please," you whimper, your voice breaking. The word tastes like copper and need. "Toru... please, I need—"

"You need what?" He thrusts forward again, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, stretching you wide, filling you completely. Your eyes roll back, a desperate moan tearing from your throat. But before you can even savor the fullness, he slides out entirely, leaving you empty and aching. A sob catches in your chest. Your pussy pulses, trying to grip something that isn't there.

"Please, please, please—" you chant, tears streaming down your cheeks. You're a succubus, a creature of lust and power, and yet here you are, reduced to a begging mess by a man who knows exactly what he's doing. He's been at this for what feels like hours: pressing in, pulling out, pressing in, pulling out. Each time, he lets you feel just enough of his cock—that glorious, fat head spreading your lips, the ridge catching on your g-spot—before snatching it away again. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, the wet sounds of his teasing driving you mad.

"No," he says, his voice low and mocking. He taps the head of his cock against your clit, making you jolt and cry out. "You haven't earned it yet."

"I'll do anything," you plead, reaching for him, but he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. His weight presses you into the mattress. His cock nudges at your entrance again, just the tip, and you hold your breath, waiting, hoping—but he stops.

"Anything?" He tilts his head, that infuriating smile widening. "Then tell me how much you want it."

Fresh tears spill over. You're so desperate, so utterly consumed by the need for his cum, for his thick load to fill you and claim you. Your voice is raw as you whisper, "I want it so bad, Gojo. I need your cock inside me. I need you to fuck me until I can't think. Please—just don't stop. Don't take it away again."

He hums, considering. Then, without warning, he drives into you in one brutal, delicious stroke, burying himself so deep you feel him in your throat. You scream—a broken, grateful sound—and your walls clamp around him, finally, finally full. He stills for a moment, letting you feel the weight of him seated inside you, and you sob with relief.

But even as you start to beg him to move, to fuck you, to please not stop, you know he's not done teasing. Because the second you start to get used to it—the second your hips start to roll against his—he pulls out again.

And the cycle begins anew.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

A reply to a commenter of mine

@masochistvoidling Well i hate the sucking dih trope so im just thinking about us using a vibrator on him to tease him 👀👀 and once again so

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

PUNISHMENT BY DENIAL PT.2

PAYBACK’s A BITCH

GOJO X READER

Warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

The ropes bit into his wrists as he tugged against them. White-knuckled fists. Corded forearms straining. His eyes—those brilliant, cocky blue eyes—were blown wide and dark, pupils swallowing the color as they tracked every inch of your body.

You took your time climbing onto the mattress. The lace of your lingerie scraped against your nipples, already pebbled and sensitive under his gaze. The fabric left nothing to the imagination—sheer black mesh, a garter belt, thigh-high stockings with a seam running up the back. You’d bought it specifically for this.

"Baby, what is this?" His voice came out rough, disoriented. The drugs were wearing off but the confusion lingered.

You let one corner of your mouth curl up. "Oh nothing really, just a little fun."

The mattress dipped under your knees as you crawled toward him. His chest was bare, skin warm and flushed. You let your fingers trail across his collarbone, down the center of his sternum, tracing each ridge of muscle. He shivered. Actually shivered under your touch.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Your hand slid lower. Over his stomach, past his navel, until your nails scraped lightly through the coarse hair at the base of his cock. He was already half-hard, twitching against his thigh. You wrapped your fingers around the shaft and gave a slow, experimental stroke.

He groaned. His hips bucked up into your grip.

"I'm so mad, you know."

He blinked, trying to focus. "Mad? Why—"

You pouted, squeezing the head of his cock so the slit pearled with a drop of precum. "You didn't let me cum last week. Multiple times. You edged me until I was sobbing, and then you just... walked away."

He swallowed. "I thought you liked it."

"Oh, I did." You smeared his precum over the head, making it slick. "But now it's my turn. And I'm not going to do the same thing to you."

Relief flickered across his face. "You're not?"

"No." You released his cock and slid back on your knees, settling between his spread legs. "Instead, I'm going to finger myself right in front of you. And I'm going to cum." You held his gaze, hooded and heavy. "Over and over. And you won't get to touch me."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"All night."

～(￣▽￣～)

Hours later, the air in the room was thick with the smell of sex. Your slick coated your fingers, your thighs, the sheets beneath you. You’d cum four times. Maybe five. You’d lost count somewhere around the third orgasm, when your vision had blurred and you’d screamed his name just to watch him strain against the ropes.

He was wrecked.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. His cock stood rigid and purple, weeping a steady stream of precum that pooled in the hollow of his navel. His abs were tense, his hips twitching uselessly. The ropes had rubbed raw marks around his wrists.

"Baby, please." His voice cracked. "Please let me touch you. Let me feel you."

You sank two fingers back into your cunt, moaning. Your body welcomed them, hot and swollen and greedy. You pumped them slowly, arching your back, watching him watch you.

"I need it." He tugged at the ropes again, desperate. "Please. I'll do anything. I'll never edge you again. I'll let you cum every time. Just—fuck—please."

His begging hit you right in the clit. You pressed your thumb against it, circling as you fucked yourself, and let your head fall back.

"You look so good like this," you gasped. "All tied up. Begging. Helpless."

"Anything you want. Forever. Just let me taste you."

You pulled your fingers out, glistening, and crawled forward. You positioned yourself over his face, your knees bracketing his head. Your wet cunt hovered inches from his mouth.

He opened his lips. His tongue extended, trembling.

You lowered yourself just enough that the tip of his tongue brushed your clit.

He sobbed. A raw, broken sound of pure gratitude.

And then you pulled away.

"No!" The word tore from his throat. "No, no, no—"

You settled onto his chest instead, straddling his ribs. You looked down at him—tears streaming from his eyes, lips parted, cock jerking uselessly against his stomach.

"You get to watch," you said softly. "Just like I watched you last week."

You brought your fingers back to your pussy, sinking them deep. Your hips rolled. Your moans filled the room.

And Gojo, the most powerful sorcerer alive, lay beneath you. Broken. Begging. Crying.

And loving every second of it.

A guttural, broken sound tears from his throat. His entire body strains against the ropes, a symphony of frustrated muscle and slick skin. You watch his abs clench uselessly, his hips thrusting into nothing but air.

You don't stop. You can't stop. The power is too intoxicating.

You pull your fingers out of your dripping cunt with a wet, obscene sound, holding them up for him to see. They shine with your climax, strings of slick connecting your knuckles. You bring them to his mouth, slowly, deliberately, parting his lips and taking them inside. He suck them clean, moaning around them, tasting you while he watches with the eyes of a starving man.

"That's seven I think," you whisper, your voice hoarse from moaning. "I lost count of how many times you left me like this last week."

He shakes his head, a desperate, jerky motion. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. Please, baby, I'm begging you. Just let me touch you. Let me taste you. I'll do anything."

His voice cracks on the last word. It sends a thrill straight to your already aching clit.

You shift, crawling up his body until your wet cunt is hovering directly over his mouth again. The heat of his ragged breath fans against your slick folds. He opens his mouth immediately, tongue extended, eyes squeezed shut in desperate anticipation.

You lower yourself just an inch.

His tongue brushes your clit.

A sharp cry escapes him. He sounds like a man who has been dying of thirst and just felt a drop of rain.

You pull back immediately.

"No!" The word is ripped from him. His eyes fly open, wild and wet. "No, no, please, I felt you—"

You settle your weight onto his chest, your pussy leaving a sticky, glistening trail up his sternum. You can feel his heart hammering against your ass, a wild, frantic rhythm.

"I know you felt me," you say, leaning down to ghost your lips over his. "That's the point. You get to almost have it. Just like you made me almost cum last week."

He lets out a sob. Actual tears spill from the corners of his eyes, tracking down his temples.

"Please," he breathes. "Please, I'll do anything. I'll be your toy. I'll worship you. Just—please—let me feel you cum on my tongue."

The sight of him like this—broken, crying, completely undone—pushes me toward another peak. You don't even have to touch yourself. The sight of him is enough.

You bring your hand back between your legs, your fingers finding your clit, swollen and aching. You stroke yourself, fast and hard, your hips grinding against his chest.

"Watch," you command.

His eyes lock onto your hand, mesmerized. You push two fingers deep inside yourself, fucking them in and out with a wet sound that fills the silent room. Your moans mix with his ragged breathing.

"That's it," you gasp. "Watch me take what you denied me."

"I'm so sorry," he chokes out. "You're so beautiful. Please. Let me taste you. I need it. I need it."

You feel your orgasm building, coiling tight and hot in your belly. Your fingers work faster, harder, your hips bucking against your own hand.

"Cum for me," he begs. "Please. Let me hear you."

The command in his voice, even tied up, even broken, is what pushes you over. You cry out, your body arching against him, your cunt clenching around your fingers as you cum hard. Your juices soak your hand, dripping onto his chest.

You collapse onto him, panting, spent. Your fingers are still buried inside you, twitching with aftershocks.

He is silent for a long moment. Then, his voice, barely a whisper:

"I can smell you."

You lift your head to look at him. His eyes are closed, his nostrils flared, breathing you in.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever smelled," he says. "And I can't have it."

He opens his eyes and looks at you. There is no anger there. Only pure, desperate love.

"I'm going to make this up to you," he says. "For the rest of my life."

You smile, leaning down to kiss him softly. He kisses you back like your oxygen and he's been drowning for hours.

"I'm going to hold you to that," you whisper against his lips.

His hands flex against the ropes.

"I know." A weak laugh escapes him. "You're a menace."

You grin. "And don't you forget it."

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

PUNISHMENT BY DENIAL

GOJO X READER

Warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

You're spread out on Gojo's bed, your wrists loosely bound with silk scarves tied to the headboard—not tight enough to hurt, just enough to remind you that you're at his mercy. He kneels between your thighs, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face as he drags the tip of his cock through the wetness pooling at your entrance.

"Please~," you gasp, hips bucking upward, desperate to feel him fill you.

He pulls back just before you can take him in. "What did I say about begging?"

You let out a frustrated whimper. He's been doing this for what feels like hours—bringing you to the edge with his fingers, his tongue, the thick head of his shaft teasing your clit, only to stop the moment your breaths turn ragged and your walls start fluttering around nothing.

"I'll be good," you plead. "I promise, just—fuck me. Please let me come."

Gojo tilts his head, that snowy white hair falling across one eye. "You promise? That's cute." He wraps a hand around his own cock, stroking slowly as he watches you squirm. "But promises don't mean much when you've already disobeyed, do they?"

You remember why you're being punished—the smart remark you made during the mission, the way you deliberately ignored his order to stay back. He'd warned you there would be consequences.

Now those consequences are grinding against your clit without slipping inside, his thumb circling your sensitive nub until you're trembling, right on the precipice—

And then he stops completely.

"No," you cry out, tears pricking at your eyes. "Gojo, please, I'm so close—"

"Close?" He laughs, low and cruel. "Good. That's exactly where you're going to stay. You'll learn to keep that mouth of yours in check."

He eases two fingers into you instead, curling them just right to hit that spot deep inside. Your back arches, a broken moan spilling from your lips. He pumps them slowly, deliberately, watching your face contort with need.

"I'm going to keep you like this," he murmurs, leaning down to lick a stripe up your neck. "Right on the edge. You'll come when I decide you've learned your lesson—not a second before."

His thumb presses against your clit again, and you scream—a raw, desperate sound as the orgasm builds only to be held hostage by his will. He keeps you there, suspended in that unbearable tension, until your legs shake and your vision blurs.

And then he withdraws his fingers, leaving you empty, aching, dripping onto the sheets.

"Look at you," he purrs, wiping your slick on your thigh. "So fucking pretty when you're desperate. Let's see how long you can last."

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

TEACHING VIRGIN NERD GOJO

VIRGIN NERD!GOJO X EXPERIENCE!READER

Warning: Explicit smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

He's sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the hem of his oversized hoodie, those brilliant blue eyes darting anywhere but your naked body. The blindfold is gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, and without it he looks younger—vulnerable, almost. His cheeks are flushed a deep crimson that spreads down his neck.

"You're sure you want me to... do this?" His voice cracks on the last word, and he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses—the ones he wears when he's not playing the confident sorcerer. Right now, he's just a flustered nerd who's never touched a woman before.

You stretch out on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, letting your thighs fall open in clear invitation. "I'm sure. But you have to listen carefully and do exactly what I say. Can you do that?"

He nods so fast his glasses nearly slip off. "Yes. Yes, I can do that. I'm good at following instructions. I mean—I've read a lot of theory. I know the anatomy. I just... haven't practiced."

You can't help but smile at his earnestness. "Theory doesn't matter right now. Come here."

He crawls toward you like a nervous puppy, stopping when his face is level with your spread thighs. He stares at your pussy with wide-eyed fascination, his breath hitching audibly.

"Start slow," you instruct, keeping your voice calm and steady. "Use your fingers first. I want you to trace the outside of my labia with your fingertips. Light touches. Don't push inside yet."

His hand trembles as he reaches out. His fingers are long, elegant—perfect for this if he learns how to use them—but right now they're clumsy, hesitating. Finally, he presses the pads of his index and middle fingers against your outer lips, dragging them down slowly.

You shiver. "Good. That's good. Now—part me open a little. Use your thumb to pull the hood back from my clit."

He swallows visibly. "Clit. Right. The clitoral glans." He mutters it like he's reciting a textbook, then carefully uses his thumb to retract the hood. The air hits your sensitive nub and you gasp.

"Fuck, that's sensitive."

"Sorry!" He jerks his hand back.

"Don't apologize. Keep going. Now—circle your fingertip around my clit. Very gently. Not directly on it at first. Around it."

He licks his lips nervously and obeys. His touch is featherlight, almost ticklish, tracing lazy rings around the swollen bud. Your hips twitch involuntarily.

"Like this?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes. Now press a little harder. And slide your other hand down—two fingers at my entrance. Don't push in. Just gather the wetness and spread it around."

He does as told, his fingers dipping into your slick folds, coming back glistening. He stares at the moisture on his skin like it's holy water.

"Taste it," you murmur.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and disbelieving. "Really?"

"Really. I want to see you learn how I taste."

He brings his fingers to his lips slowly, tentatively, and slides them into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when they open again there's a new hunger in them.

"You taste..." He trails off, searching for words. "Sweet. And salty. And—I want more."

"Good. Now—bend down. Use your tongue. Start at the bottom of my slit and lick upward. But do not touch my clit yet."

He lowers his head, and you feel his warm breath against your cunt. Then his tongue—hesitant, flat—presses against your opening and drags up through your folds, collecting your arousal. He moans against you, the vibration sending sparks through your nerves.

"Faster," you breathe. "And use the tip of your tongue. Flick it against my clit—just once."

He does. A single, quick flick that makes your back arch.

"Good. Now circle your tongue around it. Slow circles. Keep going until I tell you to stop."

He sets to work, his tongue moving in deliberate circles around your clit. His breath is warm and uneven against your wet skin. You reach down and tangle your fingers in his white hair, guiding him, pressing him closer.

"Faster," you say, your voice growing thick. "And this time—suck. Gently. Like you're trying to pull the feeling out of me."

He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and a moan tears from your throat. He groans against you, encouraged, and increases the pressure.

"That's it. Don't stop. Keep sucking and sweeping your tongue across the tip."

His hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He's getting into it now, finding a rhythm, reading your body's responses—the way your hips push against his mouth, the way your breaths quicken, the way your fingers tighten in his hair.

"I'm close," you warn. "But don't stop. When I come, I want you to keep your mouth on me until I push you away."

He mumbles something that might be "okay" against your clit and redoubles his efforts. His tongue flattens, pressing broad strokes, then flicks sharp and fast. He's learning, adapting, experimenting with what makes you moan louder.

Your orgasm builds like a wave, cresting, crashing—

You cry out, hips bucking against his face as your climax rips through you. He stays, his mouth sealed around you, tongue still working through your contractions, lapping up every drop of your release. Your legs clamp around his head and he moans, the sound vibrating through your oversensitive flesh.

When you finally push his head away, he surfaces with a dazed, euphoric look on his face, chin glistening, glasses fogged up.

"Holy shit," he whispers. "That was—I mean, I knew the biology, but I didn't know it would feel like that."

You pull him up, kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. "You're a fast learner."

He grins, a hint of his usual cocky confidence peeking through. "So, uh... what's next on the syllabus?"

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

FIRST BDSM LESSON

DOM!GOJO X SUB!READER

Warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

The blindfold slips over your eyes, plunging you into darkness that heightens every sensation. You're kneeling on the soft rug in Gojo's spacious apartment, hands clasped behind your back as he instructed, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. At 22, fresh into the world of college and curses, you've only dabbled in vanilla hookups—nothing like this. Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, your cocky mentor turned lover, towers over you at 28, his presence alone making you feel small and exposed in your simple lingerie.

“Good girl,” he purrs, his voice smooth and teasing, fingers tracing your jawline. “Look at you, all innocent and eager. You've never done this before, have you? That's okay—I'll teach you everything.” His hand slides into your hair, gripping firmly but not painfully, tilting your head up toward where you sense his smirk. The pull sends a shiver down your spine, your thighs pressing together instinctively.

He circles you slowly, the air shifting with his movement. “First lesson: trust. You say 'red' if it's too much, 'yellow' to slow down. Got it?” You nod, whispering a soft “yes,” and he chuckles. “Perfect. Now, hands out.” You extend your arms, trembling slightly, and feel cool leather cuffs encircle your wrists. He buckles them snugly, then connects them with a short chain, limiting your reach. The restraint makes your breath hitch—it's real now, no turning back.

Gojo guides you to stand, his strong hands on your elbows, leading you a few steps. You hear a click, and suddenly your wrists are pulled above your head, secured to something overhead—a hook in the doorframe, you realize later. Your body stretches taut, toes barely touching the floor in your heels, completely at his mercy. “Fuck, you look stunning like this,” he says, voice dropping lower. “My pretty little sub, tied up and helpless. So responsive already.” His praise warms you, easing the flutter of inexperience.

A light touch ghosts over your shoulder, then down your side, making you gasp. His fingers hook into your bra strap, snapping it against your skin—not hard, just enough to sting. “Sensitive, aren't you? That's what I love about newbies like you.” He unhooks your bra, letting it fall, and cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until they harden. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping. “Eager slut,” he teases, pinching one nipple sharply. The mix of pain and pleasure makes you whimper, your core clenching.

He steps back, and you strain to hear him. Then, a whoosh of air, followed by a firm smack on your ass—the flat of his hand through your panties. You jolt, the impact blooming heat across your cheek. “Count them,” he commands. “One,” you breathe, and he spanks again, harder. “Two.” Each strike builds, alternating sides, your skin warming under his palm. By five, tears prick your blindfolded eyes, but the ache between your legs grows insistent. “Such a good girl, taking it so well,” he praises, rubbing the reddened flesh. “Your ass is turning pink for me—my inexperienced little masochist.”

He tugs your panties down, exposing you fully, the cool air teasing your slick folds. “Spread your legs,” he orders, and you do, as much as the position allows. His fingers part your pussy lips, stroking your clit lightly. “Dripping already. You love being dominated, don't you? My sweet virgin sub, learning to crave the pain.” Two fingers plunge inside you, curling to hit that spot, pumping steadily while his thumb circles your nub. You buck against his hand, the chain rattling above.

But he stops just as you're teetering on the edge. “Not yet.” Frustration bubbles up, and you whine. He laughs softly. “Patience, baby.” Undoing the hook, he lowers your arms but keeps the cuffs on, guiding you to the bed. He pushes you down onto your stomach, knees spread wide. “Ass up.” You comply, face pressed to the sheets, vulnerable. His weight settles behind you, and you feel his clothed cock grind against your sore cheeks. “Gonna fuck this tight pussy now. You ready for your dom's cock?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, voice muffled. He frees himself, the sound of his zipper thrilling you, and rubs the thick head along your slit. “Beg properly.” “Please, Gojo, fuck your inexperienced sub. I need it.” He groans approvingly and thrusts in, stretching you wide. You cry out at the fullness—he's big, filling you completely. He stills, letting you adjust, one hand in your hair, pulling your head back gently. “Breathe. You're doing amazing—taking me like a good girl.”

He starts slow, shallow thrusts building to deeper ones, his hips snapping against your ass. Each plunge sends jolts through you, the earlier spanks making every impact sting deliciously. “Fuck, you're tight,” he grunts, spanking you again mid-thrust. “My perfect little toy, clenching around me.” The degradation mixes with praise, heightening everything. He pulls your hair harder, arching you as he pounds relentlessly, his free hand reaching under to rub your clit.

Orgasm crashes over you suddenly, walls fluttering around his cock, but he doesn't stop. “That's one. We're going further tonight.” He flips you onto your back, re-securing your wrists to the headboard. Blindfold still on, you feel him settle between your legs, lifting them over his shoulders. He drives back in, deeper this time, hitting your cervix with controlled force. “Look at you, spread out and tied. So obedient, so mine.~” His pace quickens, sweat dripping onto your skin.

He edges you twice more—bringing you close, then withdrawing—until you're a babbling mess. “Please, Gojo, let me cum.~” Finally, he growls, “Cum for me, you needy slut.” You shatter, screaming his name, and he follows, pumping hot spurts deep inside you. He collapses beside you, removing the blindfold and cuffs with gentle hands, pulling you into his chest.

“How was your first real scene?” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. Exhausted but glowing, you smile. “Incredible. Teach me more?” He grins. “Oh, I will, baby. This is just the start.”

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

☆( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

Sorry I haven't been posting been busy and sick... but guess what?!...today is my birthdayyyyy

o(〃＾▽＾〃)oo(〃＾▽＾〃)oo

UNWANTED EMPRESS?

RYOMEN SUKUNA X READER

warning: Explicit Smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

The grand imperial chambers loom heavy with incense and shadow, the silk-draped bed a vast altar to power and possession. You've been thrust into this role—the empress, a political pawn married to Emperor Ryomen Sukuna to seal an alliance you never wanted. At 24, you're a sorceress of minor renown, your cursed energy a bargaining chip, but nothing prepares you for him. Sukuna, the King of Curses, towers at over six feet, his four arms and tattooed form a nightmare made flesh, his crimson eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. The wedding feast ended hours ago, guests dispersed, leaving you alone with the monster you've been bound to.

He lounges on the edge of the bed, shirtless, his muscular chest etched with black markings that pulse faintly with cursed energy. Two of his arms prop him up, while the others gesture lazily, beckoning you closer. “Come here, wife,” he rumbles, voice like gravel grinding underfoot, laced with mockery. You hesitate at the threshold, your elaborate kimono heavy, heart hammering. This isn't desire—it's duty, survival. But his gaze pins you, unyielding.

You step forward, knees weak, and he snatches your wrist with one massive hand, yanking you between his spread thighs. His breath is hot against your face as he tilts your chin up with a finger, inspecting you like prey. “Unwanted, they say. As if I care for your petty alliances.” His lips curl into a smirk, revealing sharp fangs. “But you'll serve your purpose tonight. Strip.” The command brooks no argument, his grip tightening just enough to bruise.

Trembling, you fumble with the obi, letting the layers of silk pool at your feet. Naked now, exposed under his scrutiny, your skin prickles. Sukuna's eyes rake over you—full breasts, narrow waist, the dark thatch between your thighs. He hums approval, one hand tracing your collarbone, dipping lower to cup a breast roughly, thumb flicking the nipple until it peaks. “Not bad. Soft and untouched, I wager.” You flinch at the assumption—it's true, your life too consumed by curses to indulge in lovers—but his touch ignites an unwelcome spark low in your belly.

He stands abruptly, towering over you, and shoves you back onto the bed. You bounce on the mattress, scrambling to sit up, but his two upper arms pin your shoulders down while the lower ones seize your ankles, spreading your legs wide. “Stay,” he growls, kneeling between them. His face hovers inches from your core, and you feel his hot breath fan over your folds. Panic surges—“Wait, I—“—but he silences you with a sharp slap to your inner thigh, the sting making you yelp.

“The emperor takes what he wants.” His tongue, long and inhumanly dexterous, lashes out, lapping a bold stripe up your slit. You gasp, body betraying you as slick gathers under his assault. He chuckles darkly, the vibration humming against your clit. “Already dripping for the monster you hate? Pathetic empress.” He sucks your clit into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to border pain, while one hand's fingers probe your entrance, pushing two thick digits inside without preamble. They stretch you, curling to stroke your inner walls, pumping in and out with wet, obscene sounds.

You writhe, hands fisting the sheets, torn between shoving him away and pulling him closer. Pleasure coils tight despite the humiliation, your hips bucking involuntarily. Sukuna adds a third finger, scissoring them to prepare you, his tongue flicking relentlessly. “Taste like fear and need. You'll learn to crave this—my cock splitting you open.” He withdraws suddenly, leaving you aching and empty, a whine escaping your lips before you can stifle it.

Rising, he sheds his hakama, his massive cock springing free—thick, veined, the head already leaking precum, easily longer than your forearm. Your eyes widen in terror; it won't fit. “Please, it's too big,” you whisper, but he laughs, a cruel sound. One arm hooks under your knees, folding you nearly in half, while another braces your hip. The third hand fists his shaft, rubbing the tip through your slickness, coating himself. “Begging already? Good start.” Without mercy, he thrusts forward, breaching your pussy in one brutal shove.

You scream, the burn of the stretch tearing through you, walls clenching around the invasion. He's only halfway in, but it feels like he's rearranging your insides. Sukuna groans, low and guttural, holding still as you adjust, his fourth hand stroking your thigh almost soothingly. “Tight as a virgin's fist. Breathe, empress—take your king's dick.” Tears stream down your face, but the pain ebbs into a fullness that borders pleasure, your body yielding.

He pulls back slightly, then slams home, bottoming out with a wet smack. You cry out again, nails digging into his arms. Sukuna sets a punishing rhythm, hips pistoning, each thrust driving deeper, his balls slapping against your ass. The bed creaks under the force, your breasts bouncing with every impact. “Fuck, you grip me like you were made for this,” he pants, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple hard, twisting until you sob. The mix of degradation and the raw sensation pushes you toward the edge.

He shifts, angling to hit that sensitive spot inside, and stars burst behind your eyes. “That's it—milk my cock, you unwilling slut.” His pace quickens, relentless, sweat slicking his tattoos. You feel the coil snap, orgasm ripping through you without warning, pussy spasming around him, gushing slick down your thighs. Sukuna doesn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging the waves until you're oversensitive, begging incoherently.

“Not done yet.” He flips you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so you're on all fours. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back sharply, arching your spine. He re-enters from behind, the new angle letting him go even deeper, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. You keen, the pull on your scalp adding a bite of pain that heightens everything. His free hands roam—one spanking your ass cheeks red, the slaps echoing; another reaching under to rub your swollen clit in rough circles.

“Look at you, ass up for your emperor. Unwanted? You're soaking my balls.” Each spank jiggles your flesh, the heat blooming into ecstasy. He tugs your hair harder, forcing you to meet his gaze over your shoulder—those red eyes burning with possession. “Cum again. Show me how much you need this.” The command tips you over, second climax crashing harder, your walls fluttering wildly. Sukuna growls, thrusts erratic, and buries himself deep, flooding your pussy with thick ropes of cum. It overflows, dripping down your legs as he grinds through his release.

He pulls out with a slick pop, flipping you onto your back once more. Exhausted, you lie there, chest heaving, body marked with his handprints and bites. Sukuna looms over you, wiping sweat from his brow, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Not so unwanted now, are you?” He gathers you against his chest, surprisingly gentle, one arm cradling your head as your eyes drift shut. The first night ends in sated silence, the bond forged in fire and flesh—whether you want it or not, you're his empress now.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[goodgoodgoodgirl-collection]

can we talk about "I'm so proud of you" as a manipulation tactic. you pushed past your boundaries and did something you weren't comfortable with? that's amazing princess I'm so proud of you. you set aside your misgivings and let me use you in a way that made you nervous? you were so good for me baby I'm so proud of you. you faced your embarrassment head-on and did something that humiliated you? you were so brave sweetheart I'm so proud of you. good job. do it again

[masochistvoidling]

My professor told me he was proud of me today for not falling asleep for the first 3 days of exam studies. I was fucking giggling after. I was happy that I went to my last class (which I fucking hate) all giggly jolly.

[cognitivebloom-deactivated20260]

Praise Makes My Thoughts Go Pink

It starts in my chest, that warm little spark. The second someone says "good girl" or "you're so sweet like this", something inside me just… melts. I swear I can feel the color change. Like my thoughts were normal a second ago, maybe wandering, maybe trying to line up into something sensible and then suddenly…pink.

Soft pink. Glossy pink. Bubblegum pink. Praise makes me sweeter and silly and I like that better. When someone tells me I'm a good girl, my brain doesn't argue. It doesn't analyze. It doesn't go, well, actually... Nope. It just goes:

"Oh..." giggle "... I am a good girl!"

Hair twirl and then everything inside me turns syrupy and warm. I try to hold onto serious thoughts sometimes. I really do but if praise like like "you look so pretty when you're confused" slips in it's over. Completely over. My thoughts blush. They lose their edges and they stop trying so hard and suddenly I'm smiling at nothing.

Swaying a little. Feeling light and fuzzy. It's not that I can't think, it's that I don't want to when I'm being praised. Why would I? Thinking is structured. Thinking is straight lines. Praise is soft curves and glitter and warmth. When someone says, "that's my silly doll" my brain just… pops like a tiny pink firework. Any complicated thought I was holding? Gone. Frifting away like cotton candy in water, and what replaces them? A single, glowing feeling:

Be cute. Be sweet. Be good. In a that makes me feel warm and safe and wanted way. Praise feels like permission to stop trying. Permission to just be silly and good. To let my head fill with pink fog instead of sharp ideas. Sometimes I catch myself mid-giggle and think, oh no… I was supposed to remember something but then someone smiles at me and says,

"You're so adorable when you forget"

And... Oh. Okay. Never mind. Because when my thoughts turn pink, I feel small. I feel cherished. I feel like I am good. I feel like the exact kind of silly I'm meant to be. Praise makes everything inside my head glow warm and bubblegum-bright. If thinking hard makes my world gray, but praise makes it pink… I know which one I'm choosing.

[masochistvoidling]

FULL BREAST

Husband!Toji X Wife!Reader

Warning: Explicit Smut

( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)

The house was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of Megumi's breathing from the next room. He'd crashed early after a long day of playing, crying, causing a mess, his door cracked just enough to let in a sliver of light. You, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. Your breasts ached, swollen and heavy with milk, the fullness making them throb against your thin nightshirt. It had been building all day, and now, in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you shifted uncomfortably on the bed, nipples leaking small damp spots into the fabric.

Toji noticed immediately when he slipped into the room, his broad frame filling the doorway. He was shirtless, scars crisscrossing his muscled chest, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His green eyes locked onto your chest, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Looks like you need some relief," he rumbled, voice low to not wake the baby. He crossed the room in two strides, the mattress dipping under his weight as he knelt beside you.

You nodded, biting your lip as another pang shot through your tits. "They're so full... it hurts." Toji's large hands reached out, cupping your breasts gently at first, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks. Milk beaded at your nipples, soaking through instantly. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating in his throat. "Fuck, you're leaking already. Let me take care of that."

He tugged your nightshirt up and over your head, exposing your swollen breasts to the cool air. They jiggled slightly with the motion, veins prominent under the taut skin, nipples dark and erect. Toji's breath hitched as he leaned in, his rough palms kneading the undersides, squeezing upward to coax more milk out. A thin stream squirted from one nipple, arcing onto his waiting tongue as he latched on.

His mouth sealed around your left breast, sucking hard and rhythmic. You gasped, fingers threading into his messy black hair, pulling him closer. The pressure eased immediately as he drank, swallowing greedily, his tongue flicking the sensitive tip inside his hot mouth. Milk flowed freely now, warm and sweet, filling his cheeks before he gulped it down. "Tastes so damn good," he murmured against your skin, switching to the other side without missing a beat.

You arched your back, the relief mixing with building arousal. Your pussy clenched, growing wet as his free hand massaged the breast he wasn't sucking, pinching the nipple to spray milk across his knuckles. He lapped it up, then smeared the wetness over your areola, making everything slick. Toji's cock hardened visibly in his pants, pressing against your thigh as he shifted closer, grinding subtly.

"Megumi's right there," you whispered, glancing toward the door, but the thrill only heightened the heat pooling between your legs. Toji chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your nipple just enough to send a jolt straight to your clit. "He sleeps like the dead. Don't worry, I'll make you feel better." He sucked harder, drawing out long pulls that made your toes curl. Milk dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it with the back of his hand, only to dive back in, alternating between breasts.

Your hands roamed his back, nails digging into the hard muscle as pleasure built. Toji's hand slid down your stomach, dipping under the waistband of your panties. His thick fingers found your soaked folds, stroking through the slickness. "Pussy's dripping for me," he growled, two digits plunging inside you while his thumb circled your clit. You moaned softly, stifling it against his shoulder as he finger-fucked you in time with his sucking.

He released your breast with a wet pop, milk still trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Ride my hand while I empty these tits." You obeyed, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, your walls fluttering around his fingers. Toji latched onto the other nipple again, draining it with forceful pulls, his nose buried in the soft flesh of your breast. The fullness subsided gradually, replaced by a delicious ache of overstimulation.

Your orgasm crept up fast, sparked by the dual assault—his mouth devouring your milk, his fingers curling deep inside your pussy, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "Toji... fuck, I'm close~," you panted, grinding harder. He hummed against your skin, the vibration pushing you over. Your body tensed, pussy spasming as you came, juices coating his hand while fresh milk leaked from your nipples under his relentless sucking.

He didn't stop until your breasts felt lighter, softer, the ache fully gone. Pulling back, Toji licked his lips, admiring his work—your chest glistening with saliva and residual milk, nipples puffy and red. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to your mouth. "Taste yourself." You sucked them clean, the mix of your arousal and faint sweetness on your tongue.

Toji stood, shoving down his sweatpants to free his thick cock, veined and throbbing. "My turn." He stroked himself once, then guided your hand to replace his, watching as you pumped him slowly. Precum beaded at the tip, and he groaned, eyes flicking to the door where Megumi still slumbered unaware. “Gonna fuck these pretty tits next time they're full.”

For now, he climbed over you, careful not to shake the bed too much, and slid his cock into your waiting mouth. You deepthroated him eagerly, gagging softly as he thrust shallowly, his balls brushing your chin. Milk still dripped from your breasts onto the sheets below, a sticky reminder of the relief he'd given. Toji came with a muffled grunt, flooding your throat with hot spurts that you swallowed down.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his chest, one hand idly fondling your now-empty breast. “Sleep now,” he murmured, kissing your forehead. Megumi's soft snores filtered through the wall, the house settling back into silence as you drifted off, sated and sore in the best way.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

( /¯ °3° )/¯Hey sexaaayy~

Fuck please~…let me sit on that gorgeous nose

Hiromi Higuruma X Reader

Warning: Explicit smut

･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･･:*:･(*/////∇/////*)･:*:･

you couldn't stop staring at Hiromi Higuruma's nose. It was sharp, prominent, with that perfect bridge that hooked just right at the tip. Every time he spoke in the courtroom or leaned over his desk, your eyes locked onto it. you'd fantasize about grinding your pussy against it, feeling the firm ridge press into your clit while he breathed hot against your folds. The thought made you wet just imagining it.

One evening, after a long case, we ended up alone in his office. The tension had been building for weeks—stolen glances, accidental brushes. you locked the door and approached him, your heart pounding. "Hiromi~," you whispered, tracing a finger along his jaw. He looked up, those dark eyes piercing. Without a word, he pulled you onto his lap, his hands gripping your hips.

your mouths crashed together, tongues tangling as you straddled him. you ground down, feeling his cock harden through his pants against your core. But your mind was on that nose. you broke the kiss, tilting his head back to admire it up close. "I've been thinking about this," you murmured, rubbing your thumb over the tip. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Show me."

you stood, stripping off your skirt and panties, your pussy already slick. He watched, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his toned chest. you pushed him back onto the desk, climbing over him. "I want to sit on your face," you said, voice husky. He nodded, lying flat as you positioned yourself above him, knees on either side of his head.

Lowering slowly, you felt the cool air hit your exposed lips before his nose brushed your entrance. you gasped, sinking down until the bridge pressed firmly against your clit. It was even better than you'd imagined—hard, unyielding, sliding through my wetness as you rocked forward. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer. you moaned, grinding harder, the tip of his nose nudging your hole with each thrust of your hips.

But you weren't done. "Turn around," he growled, voice muffled against your thigh. you shifted, swinging your leg over into a 69 position, your pussy hovering above his mouth while you faced his crotch. He freed his cock from his pants—thick, veined, already leaking pre-cum. you licked the head, tasting salt, before wrapping your lips around it.

As you sucked, he dove in, tongue lapping at your folds. But you angled yourself so his nose rubbed directly against your clit, the pressure building with every bob of your head. you took him deeper, relaxing your throat to swallow more of his cock. Gagging slightly, you pushed further, feeling him hit the back of your throat. He groaned into your pussy, the vibration sending shocks through you.

you deepthroated him fully now, nose pressing into his balls as you held him there, throat constricting around his cock. Saliva dripped down, making it sloppy. His hips bucked, fucking your mouth while his tongue fucked your hole. you ground down on his face, his nose grinding your clit raw, the friction perfect.

"Fuck, your nose~," you gasped, pulling off his cock to stroke it with your hand, strings of spit connecting you both. He hummed approval, sucking your clit between his lips while his nose stayed buried in my wetness. you went back down, deepthroating again, faster this time, head bobbing furiously.

The pressure built in your core, his nose the star—sliding, pressing, making you clench. you came hard, juices flooding his face, soaking that perfect nose. He didn't stop, licking you through it. you kept sucking, throat working his cock until he tensed, flooding your mouth with hot cum. you swallowed every drop, milking him dry.

you both collapsed, panting, his nose glistening with your release. you kissed it gently, already craving more.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

DISTRACTION

Hiromi Higuruma X Reader

Warning: Explicit Smut

( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)( ͡☉⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ͜ʖ̫⁄ ⁄ ͡☉)

The dim light of the desk lamp casts long shadows across Hiromi's home office, the only sound breaking the late-night silence the faint scratch of his pen against paper as he pores over case files. You've been restless all evening, watching him hunch over his work in his compression shirt, and a pair of grey sweatpants that hug his hips just right. The sight of him like this—focused, intense, yet so casually exposed—stirs something wicked in you. You decide it's time to play.

Slipping into his oversized dress shirt from earlier, you button it only halfway, letting it drape open to reveal the curve of your breasts and the smooth skin of your stomach. Paired with a pair of his spare panties that you've claimed as your own, the thin material clings to your ass and the heat between your thighs. Barefoot, you pad into the room, hips swaying deliberately as you circle his desk. “Need anything, Hiromi?~” you murmur, voice low and teasing, leaning over his shoulder just enough for the shirt to gap open, brushing your chest against his arm.

He doesn't look up at first, jaw tightening as he flips a page. “Not now,” he mutters, but you catch the flicker in his dark eyes, the way his grip on the pen hardens. Undeterred, you saunter to the bookshelf, stretching up on your toes to reach a high shelf, the shirt riding up to expose the lace edges of the panties and the full swell of your ass. You linger there, pretending to browse, knowing he's watching from the corner of his eye. When you turn, you “accidentally” knock a stack of files to the floor, bending at the waist to pick them up slowly, legs straight, giving him a perfect view of the fabric pulling taut between your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, finally setting the pen down. His chair scrapes back as he stands, towering over you in an instant, you straighten with a smirk, but before you can say a word, his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you close. “You think you can distract me like that? Parade around in my clothes, showing off that pretty little body while I'm trying to work?” His voice is rough, laced with frustration and hunger, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your ass through the thin fabric.

You press against him, feeling the thick heat of his cock twitch under the sweats. “Maybe I just want some attention,” you whisper, nipping at his jaw. But Hiromi's not in the mood for games anymore. With a low growl, he spins you around, backing you against the desk, his fingers hooking into the waistband of the panties and yanking them down your legs in one swift motion. The cool air hits your bare pussy, already slick from your teasing, and you gasp as he frees his own cock, shoving the grey sweatpants down to let it spring out—long, thick, veins pulsing with need.

“Sit,” he commands, lifting you onto the edge of the desk, papers scattering forgotten. His hands grip your hips, guiding you down as he positions himself at your entrance. You sink onto him slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching your walls with that delicious burn, filling you completely until your ass rests against his thighs. A moan escapes you at the fullness, your pussy clenching around his length, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “No moving. No sounds. You're going to sit there, just like this, while I finish this case.”

His eyes lock onto yours, dark and unyielding, as he pushes back into his chair, pulling you with him so you're impaled on his lap, facing away toward the desk. The position forces you deeper, his cock nudging against that spot inside that makes your toes curl, but he holds you firm, one arm banded around your waist, the other reaching for his files. “If you squirm, I'll make it worse,” he warns, voice steady despite the way his hips twitch involuntarily beneath you.

Hours stretch on like this—torture wrapped in ecstasy. You try to stay still, but every shift of his body as he reads, the occasional flex of his thighs, sends sparks through your core. His cock throbs inside you, hot and unyielding, your juices leaking down to coat his balls. Sweat beads on your skin under the shirt, your nipples hard peaks rubbing against the fabric with each shallow breath. He pauses to jot notes, his hand brushing your thigh, fingers dipping close to your clit but never touching, drawing out whimpers you bite back.

By the second hour, you're trembling, pussy fluttering around him, desperate for friction. “Hiromi, please~,” you whisper, but he shushes you, grinding up just once—enough to make you see stars—before stilling again. “Work first,” he says, though his breathing is ragged, his free hand now resting possessively on your mound, thumb pressing lightly but not circling. The prolonged stretch builds an ache that borders on pain, your body begging for release, every nerve alight with the tease you've started but can't finish.

Finally, as the clock ticks past midnight, he tosses the files aside. “Done.” In one fluid motion, he flips you onto the desk, spreading your legs wide. His cock slides out halfway, slick with your arousal, before he slams back in, fucking you hard and deep, the hours of denial exploding into raw, pounding thrusts. You cry out as he pinches your clit, rubbing it furiously until you shatter, walls milking him as he grunts and floods your pussy with hot cum, marking you as his after the endless torment.

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

OFFICE SEX

Boss!Hiromi Higuruma X assistant!Reader

Warning: Explicit Smut

( ͡°⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ⁄ʖ⁄ ⁄ ͡°)( ͡°⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ⁄ʖ⁄ ⁄ ͡°)( ͡°⁄ ⁄ ͜⁄ ⁄ʖ⁄ ⁄ ͡°)

The office was quiet, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound breaking the late-night silence. Hiromi Higuruma leaned back in his leather chair, rubbing his temples as he stared at the stack of case files on his desk. It was past 8 PM, and most of the firm had cleared out hours ago. But there you were—his assistant, lingering at your desk just outside his office door, typing away with that infuriating focus.

He glanced up, and there it was again: that short skirt hugging your hips, riding up just enough to tease the edge of your thighs every time you shifted. The tight high socks clung to your calves like a second skin, accentuating the curve of your legs, and your dress shirt was tucked in so perfectly that it outlined every dip and swell of your body—your full breasts straining against the fabric, the narrow waist flaring into rounded hips. It drove him mad. Day after day, you showed up like this, professional on the surface but radiating this raw, unspoken invitation. He was your boss, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be imagining bending you over his desk, but he did. Every goddamn time.

Hiromi slammed his pen down, the sharp crack echoing in the space. "Enough," he muttered to himself. He stood up, straightening his tie, and strode to the door. "Hey, you. In here. Now."

You looked up, your eyes widening slightly as you set her laptop aside and stood. The skirt swished against your thighs as you walked in, those socks making your steps look effortlessly seductive. You closed the door behind you, leaning against it with a polite smile. “Yes, Mr. Higuruma? Did you need something before I head out?”

He paced behind his desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. “Sit down.” He gestured to the chair opposite him, but you hesitated, and that was it—the last straw. He rounded the desk in two strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. “No. Not there. Right here.” He spun you around and pressed your hips against the edge of the desk, his body crowding yours from behind.

“W-what are you—“ you started, but his hand clamped over your mouth, firm but not rough.

“That outfit,” he growled low in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “Every day, you walk in here dressed like this. Skirt so short I can almost see your ass when you bend over. Socks tight enough to make me want to rip them off. Shirt tucked in like you're begging me to untuck it and see what's underneath.” His free hand slid down your side, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before gripping your hip. “I've had enough of pretending I don't notice. You've been teasing me for weeks, haven't you?”

You nodded against his hand, your body trembling slightly, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you arched your back just a fraction, pressing your ass against his growing erection. That was all the confirmation he needed. Hiromi released your mouth, spinning you to face him. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss hard and demanding, tongue pushing past your teeth to claim your mouth. You moaned into it, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kissed him back with equal hunger.

He broke away, panting, and shoved your shirt up, buttons popping open to reveal your lacy bra. “Fuck, look at you.” His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the fabric until they hardened into peaks. He yanked the bra down, exposing you, and bent his head to suck one nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive bud while his tongue flicked over it.

You gasped, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. “Mr. Higuruma... Hiromi~...”

“Call me that again, and I'll stop,” he warned, switching to the other nipple, biting down just hard enough to make you whimper. His hand slid under your skirt, fingers finding the edge of your panties. They were soaked already, the fabric clinging to your pussy. He rubbed you through them, feeling the heat and wetness, and you bucked against his hand.

“Please~,” you breathed, your voice shaky. “Don't stop~.”

He hooked his fingers in the panties and tore them off, the rip echoing in the room. You were bare now, your pussy glistening under the desk lamp's glow. Hiromi dropped to his knees, pushing your skirt up to your waist. He spread your thighs wide, the tight socks stretching as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. His mouth descended, tongue licking a long stripe up your slit, tasting your arousal. You were sweet and salty, and he groaned against you, delving deeper.

He sucked on your clit, fingers parting your folds to slide two inside you. You were tight, clenching around him as he pumped them in and out, curling to hit that spot that made her cry out. “Oh god, yes—right there~.” Your hips rolled against his face, grinding as he ate you out, tongue thrusting into you alongside his fingers.

Hiromi stood abruptly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cock strained against his pants, aching for release. He unbuckled his belt, shoving his trousers and boxers down just enough to free himself. His cock sprang out, thick and hard, the tip already leaking pre-cum. “Turn around,” he ordered, voice rough.

You obeyed, bending over the desk, your ass presented to him, skirt bunched around your waist. The sight of you like that—curves on full display, pussy dripping—nearly undid him. He gripped your hips, lining up his cock and thrusting in with one hard push. You were so wet he slid in deep, bottoming out as your walls gripped him like a vice.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he grunted, pulling back and slamming in again. The desk creaked under them as he set a brutal pace, hips snapping against your ass. Each thrust made your breasts bounce, your shirt hanging open, nipples scraping the wood.

You pushed back against him, meeting every stroke, your moans filling the office. “Harder~... please~, fuck me harder~.”

He obliged, one hand tangling in your hair to pull your head back, arching your spine. The angle let him hit deeper, his cock dragging against your inner walls. His other hand reached around to rub your clit, circles fast and firm. You shattered first, your pussy spasming around him, cum gushing out as you screamed his name.

The tightness pulled him over the edge. Hiromi thrust erratically, burying himself deep as he came, hot spurts filling you up. He collapsed over you, both of you breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside you.

After a moment, he pulled out, watching his cum leak from your pussy down your thighs. He straightened your skirt roughly, then his own clothes. “Don't wear that outfit tomorrow,” he said, but his eyes said otherwise—hungry, promising more.

You turned, smirking through flushed cheeks. “Or what? You'll have to punish me again?”

He chuckled darkly. “Exactly.”

ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~ヾ(￣▽￣)Bye~

[masochistvoidling]

Kento x Reader

Warning:Explicit Smut

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

Dating Kento Nanami had always been a peculiar mix of comfort and unease, like slipping into a perfectly tailored suit that pinched in all the wrong places. He was meticulous, his life a regimented schedule of overtime hours and quiet evenings with herbal tea, and you? You were the wildcard, the one who dragged him to late-night ramen spots or spontaneous walks under the city lights. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, it felt weird—like you were intruding on his solitary world, or maybe he was holding back something sharper, something that made your skin prickle with anticipation and doubt.

It started innocently enough one Friday night. You'd convinced him to skip his usual early bedtime for a movie marathon at your apartment. Nanami sat on the couch, legs crossed, tie loosened just enough to hint at vulnerability. His blond hair caught the glow from the screen, and his sharp blue eyes flicked between the film and you, as if calculating the next move in some unspoken strategy. “This is... relaxing,” he murmured, but there was that edge to his voice, the one that made your stomach twist. Weird, you thought, how his presence filled the room yet left you feeling exposed.

As the credits rolled on the third movie, you shifted closer, your hand brushing his thigh. He didn't pull away—in fact, his fingers intertwined with yours, firm and unyielding. But when you leaned in to kiss him, his response was measured, almost analytical. His lips pressed against yours with precision, tongue exploring your mouth like he was mapping territory. It was hot, undeniably, the way his free hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head for better access. Yet, that weird feeling crept in: was this passion or just another task on his list?

“You taste like the wine,” he said, pulling back slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. You laughed, trying to shake off the oddness, and tugged at his shirt buttons. “Let me see you,” you whispered, and he obliged, shrugging off the fabric to reveal the broad expanse of his chest, muscles honed from years of disciplined training. Your hands roamed over his skin, tracing the faint scars from battles he never fully discussed. He watched you, eyes darkening, but there was that pause again, like he was weighing the risks.

The weirdness intensified when he stood, pulling you up with him in one fluid motion. “Bedroom,” he stated, not a question, his voice low and commanding. You followed, heart pounding, as he led the way. In the dim light of your room, he undressed you methodically—fingers unhooking your bra, sliding your panties down your legs with deliberate slowness. Naked before him, you felt vulnerable, the air cool against your exposed pussy, already slick with arousal. But his gaze was intense, almost clinical, as if appraising a fine watch. “Beautiful,” he murmured, yet the word hung heavy, making you wonder if he meant it or if it was just protocol.

He guided you to the bed, laying you down on your back. Nanami knelt between your thighs, his cock straining against his slacks—thick, outlined clearly through the fabric. You reached for it, but he caught your wrist, pinning it above your head. “Not yet,” he said, that stoic tone laced with hunger. Leaning down, he kissed a trail from your neck to your breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth with firm pressure. You arched, moaning as his teeth grazed the sensitive peak, sending jolts straight to your core. His hand slid lower, fingers parting your folds, thumb circling your clit with expert precision. It felt incredible, the way he worked you, dipping two fingers inside your wet pussy, curling them to hit that spot that made your toes curl.

But even as pleasure built, the weird feeling nagged—like he was performing, detached in his focus. “Nanami,” you gasped, “look at me.” He did, eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the mask cracked. Desire flickered there, raw and unguarded. He pumped his fingers faster, his mouth moving to your other breast, licking and biting until you were writhing. “Come for me,” he ordered, voice rough, and you did, your pussy clenching around his fingers as waves of orgasm crashed over you, juices coating his hand.

Panting, you watched him strip off the rest of his clothes. His cock sprang free, long and veined, the head already glistening with pre-cum. He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the tip along your slit, teasing your oversensitive clit. “Tell me you want this,” he said, and there it was again—that weird undercurrent, like he needed confirmation to proceed, as if intimacy was a contract to sign.

“I want you~,” you replied, pulling him closer. He thrust in slowly, inch by inch, stretching your pussy around his girth. The fullness was exquisite, bordering on too much, and you cried out as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against your ass. He paused, buried deep, letting you adjust, his forehead resting against yours. Then he moved, hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm, each stroke hitting deep and hard. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him on, nails digging into his back.

The bed creaked under his powerful thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping pussy. Sweat slicked your bodies, and he grunted with each plunge, the stoic facade crumbling as pleasure overtook him. “Fuck, you're tight,” he growled, surprising you with the curse—it was rare for him to lose control like that. You met his pace, grinding up to take him deeper, the weirdness fading into pure heat. His hand slipped between you, rubbing your clit again, building you toward another peak.

But as he fucked you harder, something shifted. His eyes bored into yours, intense, almost possessive. “You're mine,” he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine. Was this the weird part? The way he claimed you so absolutely, like a sorcerer binding a curse? Or was it the tenderness beneath, the way his free hand stroked your hair even as he pounded relentlessly? You came again, walls fluttering around his cock, milking him until he followed, groaning as he spilled inside you, hot cum flooding your pussy in thick spurts.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. In the afterglow, the weird feeling lingered—not unpleasant, but intriguing. Dating Nanami was like this: structured chaos, where every touch felt calculated yet profoundly real. As his breathing evened out, you nestled closer, wondering what other odd layers you'd uncover next.

☜(⌒▽⌒)☞(づ￣ ³￣)づ☜(⌒▽⌒)☞

[masochistvoidling]

NEWLY WEDS WEDDING NIGHT

Husband!Kento X Wife!Reader

Warning:Explicit Smut

ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝟛

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

Finally, he removed his suit and then his boxers. His cock sprang free and you swallowed. Okay. You’ll be honest. the fuckers you used to fuck back then and the toys you used don’t compare to him.

You mean you’re much smaller than him.

You thought those damn dark romance books were lying especially Madness by Shantel Tessier but never mind. He looks at you with a smirk and you glare at him.

“Don’t get cocky Nanami” you said pressing your thighs together. He got back on the bed and spread your legs.

You look up at him seductively. You lean up on your elbow. “Well? Show me what you got. Especially after you’ve been bragging” you said jokingly. He leans over you and slowly sinks into you.

Fuck. Your eyes roll back and you fall onto your back grasping the bedsheet. You felt him sink into you inch by inch. “Kento~” you pant out as he sinks deeper. “Fuck-“ he groaned into you as drag his cock in and out of you. “You’re so tight, so good for me”. You pant into his ears as he sinks in even deeper your legs wrap him.

Fuck.

You’re seeing stars.

You try to resist but you can’t. Your hand wraps around his arm. Kento thrust his hips forward. Faster and harder. He kept on pounding into you.

Your head was thrown back lip parted. Fuck. You shouldn’t like this. You really shouldn’t. But god you were so close. You want more. You need more. His hand that was on your waist gripped tighter as he angled his hips to hit a deeper part of you making you clench your toes. You felt his eyes on you. But you can’t think. You can only feel. “My darling wife…mine..” he groans. “Look at me baby” he said “look at me while I fuck you.” Your eyes slowly flutter open and stare at him eyes half lidded. “Feels so good huh?” He smirked.

“Fuck you~” you gasp. He kisses you. Then you felt his fingers going down to your clit doing a circling motion. You gasp. “N-no…wait!” He grinds rolling his hips forward. “Oh my god—“ you moan. “I know,” he breathes, kissing your jaw, your neck, the corner of your mouth. “so tight for me,” his teeth scrape over your throat. “could stay like this all fuckin night.”

You arch into him. Your nails are digging into his back. Your thighs are trembling around his waist. You feel slick dripping down your thighs, soaked with both of you.

Your moans are all breath and broken vowels now—. “ah, fuck, please—”. “I got you,” he pants, fucking into you slow and deep and so insanely good your eyes roll back. “gonna cum for me, baby.”

Your hands are shaking, your thighs clamping around his hips, and your belly tightens like a rubber band about to snap-. and then it does. You cum hard—harder than you knew you could— “Kento! ohmy— fuckfuckfuck.” he keeps fucking you through it. keeps cooing soft praise against your mouth. “That’s it, good girl, that's it. Ride it out. So beautiful like this, so good for me.” You're still twitching around him when he finally lets go—groans so deep, so fucked-out it makes your toes curl—and spills inside you in hot, heavy pulses. His whole body shudders with it, hips grinding down.

You lay there completely in a daze. He slowly pulled out of you and you whimpered. He kissed your forehead then got up.

You heard a door open then the sound of water. Before he walks back in still naked and picks you up. Walking into the ensuite bathroom.

☜(⌒▽⌒)☞(づ￣ ³￣)づ☜(⌒▽⌒)☞

[masochistvoidling]

NEWLY WEDS WEDDING NIGHT

Husband!Kento X Wife!Reader

Warning:Explicit Smut

ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝟚

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

He feels bad for teasing but he loves watching you squirm trying to get what you want. Your hands came up to thread your fingers into his messy hair and grip the roots. “Please~” you whisper.he smile and kisses your head before going back between your legs. He looks up at you. He kissed your thighs before his fingers snuck under the hem of your panties waiting for your permission.

You nodded almost imperceptibly. That was all he needed before he pulled the fabric down your legs and tossed it aside.

He spread your thighs apart and dove in. He licks a long languid stripe up your folds.

When his tongue catches your clit he suck and bites. You throw your head back in bliss as your back arches off the bed. Your hands move down and grip his head.

Rolling your hips to match the rhythm of his tongue to chase your high. He was in paradise lapping at your essence on his tongue he was overcome with bliss, and he barely noticed his own hip rutting into the bed. ”F-fuck Kento~!” Your whine clenching your thighs around his head. He quickened his pace. He ran two fingers teasingly up and down your folds collecting your juices before sinking them into you.His fingers knuckle deep in you going in and out faster each time curling them into your sweet spongy spot nestled into your walls. You moan and writhe into the mattress. Your legs spread wider.

Your breath quickens as the coil winds tight as he continues his onslaught, the pressure building as you grip his head tighter and ride his tongue, taking the reins in your hands to chase the pleasure But before you could reach it, he withdraws.

Your eyes opened and you quickly looked down at him. “W-Kento—“ you were in a daze.

Suddenly you felt his strong hand grip your cheeks and squeeze which caused your lips to part. Kento hovers a breath over and lets a long trail of saliva fall into your mouth. You moan. And he slams his lips against yours forcing his tongue into your mouth making you taste yourself against his lips. You hate to admit this but it ignited a wave of pleasure within you.

Your hips roll against his. He pulls away and gets up and off the bed. And removing his suit was teasingly slow. You look at him biting your lips. Fuck you hate this man. But a mission is a mission. You just never expected sex with it.

You thought you only needed to marry him and make him vulnerable you didn’t think that sex was included. But fuck was you were heated. Just staring at him makes you wet and has you drooling.

☜(⌒▽⌒)☞(づ￣ ³￣)づ☜(⌒▽⌒)☞