"ken, are you even listening to me?" you scolded the man lightly, after finding he had planted yet another kiss to your face as you spoke, his expression was playful when he pulled away; almost childlike.
"i am. what made you think otherwise?" both corners of his lips turned upward just a tad, as though unmoving if you didn't know any better, if you hadn't spend the past few years of your life staring at your husband's handsome face, memorizing its features.
you narrowed your eyes in disbelief but spared him anyway, decided to continue away the story you'd been telling him. "and then she said..." you carried on, chattering animatedly about something you'd claimed was the craziest thing ever all the while nanami was proceeding with his initial plan; bringing both of his hands to tuck your hair behind your ears, stroking it over and over softly. never forgetting to nod a few times like letting you know that he's still listening.
"mhm, keep going, my pretty wife." he murmured, cupping your face as he stared at you adoringly before sprinkling kisses atop of it, different spots each time making sure he didn't miss even a single inch of your skin. a kiss to your eyelids each, cheeks, and when he reached your nose you couldn't help but let out a chuckle, at that nanami beamed.
"i'm starting to think you're not listening at all," you berated the man with an ear to ear grin, your attempt at scolding was failing miserably. as that too was swallowed by a prompt kiss to your lips.
"how presumptuous. i could listen and admire my wife's beauty at the same time." his hands were now on the sides of your face, his thumb rubbing your cheeks subtly. the smile he's wearing as he said that was blinding, contagious in every way.
"you're lucky you're cute." you raised an eyebrow at his apparent flirtation and sweet excuse that still made your inside fluttered despite of years of marriage.
"i am lucky," nanami concurred easily, his tone made it obvious that he was talking about a different thing. to be yours, the implicit meaning was loud inbetween the silent spaces. once more you were swarmed with a barrage of kisses, this time to the corner of your brows, your jaw, forehead.
you tried to hid yourself between the crook of his neck, feeling how it shook along with nanami's laughter. "seriously, what's gotten into you?" you mumbled into his skin, giggling slightly. your chest lightened, bursting with fondness.
you felt another gentle nudge atop of your head. "what? am i not allowed to kiss my lovely wife?"
"you can. but in moderation."
"nonsense. there is no moderation when it comes to you."
★ . . “don’t leave me.” mid-makeout with ex husband!nanami.
you sink down onto him slow, thighs trembling as his thick cock stretches you open inch by inch.
nanami’s hands grip your hips hard enough to leave marks, breath ragged against your mouth while you settle fully in his lap. the bedroom is dim, just the low lamp casting gold across his bare chest and the way sweat already beads at his collarbone.
he kisses you like he’s starving, tongue sliding deep, tasting every soft sound you make. your fingers thread through his blond hair, tugging lightly as you start to roll your hips, riding him with that slow grind that makes his thighs tense beneath you. wet sounds fill the room each time you lift and drop, slick coating his length and dripping down to his balls.
“fuck,” he murmurs into your lips, voice hoarse and wrecked.
one hand slides up your back, pressing you closer until your breasts crush against him. his other hand stays on your ass, guiding you, helping you bounce a little faster. every drag of his cock inside you hits that spot that makes your toes curl.
you lean in to kiss him deeper, tongues tangled, breaths shared hot and messy. his hips buck up to meet you, driving himself even deeper. that’s when he breaks the kiss just enough to pant against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours, eyes half-lidded and desperate.
“don’t leave me again,” he whispers, the words raw and trembling right there in the middle of it all. his voice cracks just a little on the last syllable, like the thought alone hurts. he pulls you back into the kiss before you can answer, hungrier now, teeth grazing your bottom lip as he thrusts up harder.
you ride him through it, clenching around his cock with every rise and fall, skin slapping softly together. his hands roam like he can’t get enough of you, palms mapping your waist, your ribs, the curve of your spine. he groans low when you grind down and circle your hips, milking him just right.
“need you here,” he breathes between kisses, “right here with me.” his thrusts grow erratic, chasing that edge while you keep riding him steady, lost in the heat of his body and the way he holds onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
𓏲ּ𝄢 𓂃 𓈒 ˖ kento covers himself while eating u out . . ꒰ １８+ ꒱
kento is the biggest munch you've ever been with! he'll eat it for breakfast, lunch, & dinner if he could（and trust me, he absolutely tries to !）
but there's one little peculiar thing he always does . .
he always covers himself with a blanket over him while his face is buried deep in your sweet core. when he did it the first time you two ever got intimate, you just thought it was something he did out of respect for you and you wouldn't put it past him to do something like that so you let it be.
as time went on though, he continued doing this and so you couldn't help wonder why. so today you decide to find out just that.
while he's ever so sweetly lapping at your slicked folds, you very slowly lift up the blanket and peek in to see your beloved. he doesn't seem to notice at first since you're still letting out those cute whimpers of yours. but then, he soon hears a soft giggle from you and that makes his eyes shoot up to look at you.
and gosh, he looks so goddamn cute & sexy at the same time — so greedily suckling on your puffy clit and stretching you out with those thick fingers of his, it's like he's completely lost in the moment. then . . his eyes flit up to meet yours whose peaking so adorably with that pretty smile on your face.
kento stops like he'd just been caught doing something naughty（technically he had been!）and then his entire face flushes a shade of pink, smushing his cheek to your inner thigh. you'd never seen him get flustered like this & you genuinely feel your heart do flips at how cute he looks.
"honey . ." he mutters, squishing his face even more into the plush of your thighs. ". . what are you doing?"
"just looking at my lovely boyfriend." you muse, running your fingers through his hair. "because he's always hiding himself when he's eating me out."
the flush on his face gets darker as he lets out a tiny groan, embarrassed & bashful. ". . i just get shy about it, sweetheart. i don't know why but i just do."
your heart flutters at his adorable admission, and with that, you lower the blanket back down & you can hear kento hum in delight as he dives right back in to devouring you ❤︎ !
Cw: Smut. Oral. P in V. Thigh riding. Size kink. Panty sniffer Caleb Jealous Xavier. It includes links to 🌽 videos on X for visual examples on what was sent. 🔞 MDNI🔞
Sylus/Xavier/Rafayel/Zayne/Caleb
Yeah*sigh*I'm ovulating again. Enjoy 😝
Part 2 here When they accidentally send you a porn link...
The blue light of your phone screen is the only thing cutting through the darkness of your bedroom. You really should have been asleep an hour ago, instead, you’re spiraling down a rabbit hole you didn't even know existed.
Size kink.
You’d never really thought about it before, not until you started dating Sylus and tonight you were just scrolling, looking for something to satisfy the empty ache Sylus left all week.
This video is something you had never seen before or even thought was possible. You watch, mesmerized by the way the woman’s stomach subtly shifts a visible bulge as he stretches her out.
Heat pools instantly between your thighs, making your breath hitch and a dizzying sensation of fullness hit your gut. He's always so careful with you, so agonizingly gentle, as if you’re something precious he might break if he breathes too hard. But looking at this... a dark part of your brain wonders what it would feel like if he didn't hold back.
"Holy shit..." you whisper to the empty room.
Your hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding down to find slick heat. The video is playing on a loop. Bulge. Stretch. Deep. Repeat. You watch it while your imagination runs wild, replacing the stranger on the screen with the man who owns your heart. You’re picturing his heavy weight pinning you down, his eyes blown wide, filling you until you can’t even scream.
You’re chasing a peak that feels miles away until, suddenly, it isn't. You hit your first orgasm with a stifled gasp, back arching off the mattress, only to find yourself immediately chasing the second one, body trembling and spent in the wake of the first.
By the time the second wave of pleasure ebbs away, you’re a puddle of limbs and heavy eyelids. You’re half conscious, drifting in that beautiful limbo between wakefulness and dreams. In a daze of post orgasmic euphoria, you squint at the screen, your thumb hovering over the comment section.
"How do I send him this without actually sending it to him 😳"
You tap 'send' with a clumsy thumb. You meant to just post it as a thought, a digital scream into the void. But as your eyes flutter shut, your hand twitches a final, involuntary spasm of exhausted muscle. Your thumb slips. It slides across the 'Share' icon, hovers over the very first contact at the top of your recent list, and taps.
Sent.
You don't hear the subtle whoosh of the outgoing message. Delivered directly to the man who at this very moment is probably staring at a security feed or sipping red wine.
Sylus.
You just fall into a deep, blissful sleep, completely unaware that you've just lit a fuse.
“Come on, sweetie, don’t give up on me now" Thrust. The impact is heavy, forcing a breathless gasp from your lungs. “You can take it, can’t you?”
He isn't being the gentle, careful man you know. Not today. His hand is hooked firmly behind your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, forcing you to watch the unmistakable, fat bulge stretching the skin of your lower abdomen, proof to just how deep he’s buried himself inside you.
“You wanted this, now you have to take it and you are going to watch.”
And there it is. The reality of it. It’s visceral. It’s exactly what you saw in that video, but it’s a thousand times more intense because it’s him. It’s real.
Your vision swima and just as the shock of it all starts to settle, he shifts. He changes the angle of his hips in a calculated move that hits your G spot dead on. An uninhibited scream tears from your throat, echoing through the room.
“I've been trying to behave,” he says, and the words come out rougher than he probably intended, an edge of frustration bleeding through his usual composure “But you make it so difficult... fuck... by sending me your filthy little thoughts.”
His hand settles against your belly, firm and heavy, and the second he presses down, your body reacts with a sharp inhale. You tense instinctively, muscles coiling around him, but you don't pull away. You can't.
“Can you feel me here?” he asks, breath coming in uneven bursts. He’s buried balls deep and for a split second, you see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. You make a face, a strange, overwhelmed expression of fullness, and he looks like he might actually pull back to give you a moment to breathe. He thinks he’s pushing too hard.
He’s wrong.
Don't you dare.
Driven by a desperation you didn't know you possessed, you move your hips in a searching rhythm, pressing his hand down harder against your stomach. You want the pressure. You want to feel the exact point where he meets your skin from the inside.
He lets out a loud groan at the sensation. Your narrow walls clamp down on him, tighter than they've ever been. Every millimeter of space between you feels like it’s disappearing, leaving nothing but friction and heat.
You don't have the words to tell him that you never want him to stop, so your body does the talking. You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he holds you there, keeping you exactly where you are until your breathing turns unsteady.
Until your body softens in momentary surrender and tightens again a second later, as if you're fighting a war with yourself, trying to decide whether to let go or to hold on tighter.
In the end, you don't choose. You do both.
The world dissolves into a hot haze of pleasure. It couldn't be called an orgasm because this feels like a total system failure. You’re sobbing his name or maybe you’re just gasping for air, you can’t tell anymore as waves of pleasure crash over you, violent and unrelenting. Your pussy seizes around him in long pulses, milking him, begging for the very thing that’s pushing you past your limit.
He follows you a few seconds later, burying himself soooo deep you feel the hot rush of him filling you.
Slowly, the fog begins to lift, leaving you in a state of blissful, heavy lethargy. The hand that was just pressing so ruthlessly into your belly softens, fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.
"You really are a menace." he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.
The shame you expected to feel, the embarrassment of that accidental video is nowhere to be found. Instead, there is only a sense of immense satisfaction.
"Next time," he whispers into your hair "don't bother sending a link. Just tell me. I'll give you everything you desire. Every single time."
The problem with being in love with a man like Xavier is that your brain is constantly a minefield of "what ifs."
He’s incredible, truly, but you’ve noticed the way he pulls back sometimes. When he’s brooding or when that possessive jealousy starts to prickle at him, he becomes almost too careful. Like he’s afraid he might actually break you if he lets go of that restraint.
So, naturally, you’ve been doing a little "research" to keep the inspiration alive.
Now, you’re sitting on the edge of your bathtub, scrolling through your feed, a habit that’s becoming a bit of a vice, when a video catches your eye. A girl pinned to a mattress, her head pressed down by her partner as he fucks her from behind. Hard. The sound of her moans echoes in your ears through your headphones and suddenly the bathroom feels about ten degrees too hot.
God, yes.
You quickly save the link to your "later" folder, a digital stash of things you want him to eventually try, and then scribble a quick, thirsty comment on the video "This but with my boyfriend dressed as Lumiere 🤤 " and set your phone down.
Buzz. Buzz.
A notification lights up the screen. It’s him.
[Xavier]: Found a new hot pot place. Apparently, the broth is spicy enough to kill a Wanderer. Want to go tonight? Please say yes so I can stop thinking about food and start thinking about you.
A soft laugh escapes you. He’s so predictable, yet so devastatingly charming when he wants to be. Your answer is an immediate "sure" because you’d say yes to a lukewarm bowl of water if he was the one serving it.
But he always forgets to look at the menu and ends up ordering something way too spicy or something you're not in the mood for, so you look for the restaurant's menu.
You see the link. Tap it. Copy. Paste. Add "Look at the options! The spicy broth looks insane." Send.
Funny thing is, you don't actually copy the menu's URL, you just cut it. You don't even realize you just sent him the very un culinary link to the video you were just watching to fuel your own delusions.
Little typing bubbles appear. They dance for a long time. They disappear. They reappear.
He's so indecisive.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
"Lumiere?" the name sounds like a curse "You wanted Lumiere to pin you down?"
Your face is pressed so firmly into the mattress that the fabric feels like a part of your own skin, the scent of laundry detergent mixing with the heat of the moment. Every time he thrusts into you, the world tilts, your vision blurring into white light and dark shadows. The Xavier who kisses your forehead and cuddles with you is buried somewhere deep inside the man currently fucking you breathless.
"Xavie..." you try to speak, but his name dies in your throat as he shifts his weight.
"Tell me," he demands, losing the battle with his own restraint. He hits you hard, a deep, soul shaking thrust that forces a broken moan from your lips. "Tell me you don't need a costume to feel this."
You try to answer, to tell him he's being ridiculous...
Smack!
The sting of his palm against your ass makes you gasp, your fingers clawing at the mattress for purchase.
"You sent it to me on purpose," he mutters as he leans down, his chest pressing hard against your back. "You wanted to see me like this, didn't you? You wanted to see if I could be as rough as him."
He doesn't want an answer. He doesn't wait for one. He just wants to hear you whimper his name when he hits that perfect spot.
His hand presses your face down even harder into the mattress, muffling your cries. It's everything you were craving when you were scrolling through your phone earlier, but the reality is a thousand times better.
You start to move, trying to meet him halfway, trying to grind back against him to find the friction that will push you over the edge.
"Faster..." you beg, trying to turn your head to tell him that there is no Lumiere, there is only him, but he just presses you back down, his thumb grazing your hip bone with trembling pressure.
"Shhhhhh, just a little bit more," he lets out a long groan, his forehead dropping to rest against the back of your neck for a fleeting second before he surges upward again. "You should see the way your pussy is taking my cock right now, so greedy. Just for me."
His hand shifts. It leaves the back of your head to find the column of your throat. His thumb and middle finger curl around your neck not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he is in total control.
He stills for a heartbeat, his middle finger softly tapping the pulsing vein in your neck. "Every beat belongs to me tonight"
You just nod, a jerky movement, because you are standing on the very edge of a precipice, and the fall is coming. The tension in your lower belly is wound so tight it’s almost painful.
"Say it," he breathes, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his words a warm, humid ghost of a sensation, his control fraying at the edges.
"Yours," you finally whisper, like secret you’ve been holding in your lungs for far too long, finally allowed to breathe.
The moment the word leaves your lips, he loses the last of his mercy.
He pulls back almost entirely, leaving you aching and empty for a fraction of a second only to drive back in, bottomless and bruising. It’s a cycle of withdrawal and overwhelming fullness that leaves you reeling.
"Give me what's mine" the command vibrates through your entire body.
The world dissolves into white light as your head falls forward, muscles spasming in the violent quake of your climax, but he catches your hair, tugging just enough to force your head up, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark and swirling with a hunger that could swallow the stars.
"Good girl," he whispers against your parted, trembling lips.
He thrusts one last time, deep and final, spilling molten heat as your name breaks from his lips, torn in half by bliss before he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. For now, the jealousy is gone. There is only the quiet, heavy reality of being his.
The video catches your eye instantly. The lighting is a soft purple, casting a surreal glow over the two people on screen. A girl is on top, her movements slow and agonizingly deliberate as she drags her pussy over her partners cock, the rhythm of it making your cunt clench.
Tonight you are in a "no filter" mood. You need to share this. You need to tell Tara.
With a smirk, you tap the share icon, copy the link, and switch over to your messages. You find Tara’s profile pic or so you think and start typing with the kind of unhinged energy only a best friend can appreciate.
You and Tara have long since abandoned the concept of "boundaries" when it comes to your filthy late night chats.
“Omg Tara, look at this. Raf’s cock is so pretty, I swear if he’d just let me do this to him, I’d never leave the bedroom again 🥵💦”
You hit send with a satisfied whoosh and let out a long, dramatic sigh. Silence follows. For a few minutes you go back to scrolling, blissfully unaware that you have just dropped a digital bomb into the inbox of a man who is already struggling to maintain his composure.
Your phone vibrates.
It’s not a "LOL" or a "Damn" from Tara.
It’s a notification from Rafayel.
Rafayel: Is that so?
Your heart skips a beat. You frown, squinting at the name at the top of the chat.
Wait.
Your face goes from pale to a shade of red that would put a sunset to shame. You stare at the screen, wanting to physically crawl inside the phone and disappear forever. You want to delete it. You want to throw the phone out the window. You want to move to a different planet.
But then, the little typing bubbles appear again.
Rafayel: Don't just sit there blushing, cutie. I'm coming to your place and you are going to show me exactly what you want"
🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧
You’ve lost track of time. Your thighs are starting to ache, every muscle in your legs feels tight, strained from holding yourself upright, yet you keep moving. You have to. The friction is the only thing keeping you grounded.
You’re straddling him, your knees digging into the soft linens, focused on the way your cunt drags over his cock. Slippery. Hot. Wet.
Every time you slide down, the underside of him, that thick ridge presses ruthlessly against your clit. You can feel the vein running along his length pulse in perfect synch with your clit.
Thump thump. Thump thump.
"Slow down..." he groans, gripping your hips "You're going to... fuuuuck... you're going to kill me"
The friction is creating a heat of its own, a sliding friction that makes your head spin. You watch slightly delirious, as the light from the moon filters through the window, catching the sheen of sweat on his pale skin and the way his hair is plastered to his forehead. He looks wrecked. He looks beautiful. He looks like he belongs entirely to you.
But his hands are far from weak. They are heavy weights anchored to your hips, and he uses them to sabotage you. Just when you think you’ve found a rhythm that might actually save you, he tightens his grip, forcing your hips to slow, dragging the slide of your pussy out into a long, shallow glide.
It’s cruel. A sadistic kind of torture, making the night feel endless, as if the clock has stopped just to watch you suffer.
He wants to stretch this out. He wants to milk every drop of anticipation from your veins until your entire body begins to tremble, not from pleasure, but from the weight of the climax that refuses to arrive. He wants to push you to that edge where even your silence sounds filthy, where the quiet between your breaths is thick with the unspoken things you want to do to him.
Once he’s satisfied with the slow pace, his hands begin to wander. They trace the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the swell of your breasts, learning your body the way a sinner learns to pray. Like hunger learning the art of restraint just long enough to make the eventual feast mean something.
You slide back just a fraction, settling the heat of your pussy directly over his balls and then you reach down.
Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, just like you saw in that video. You begin to stroke him while simultaneously rotating your hips in a circular grind over the heavy fullness of his balls.
The sound that tears from his throat is something unhuman, a vibration that feels like it's coming from the depths of the ocean.
Your name is caught between his teeth in a soft, sinful exhale. He sounds undone, completely unraveled by the sight of you taking exactly what you claimed you wanted in that accidental text.
He’s right there, on the edge of an unravelling collapse.
And because you are just like him, a creature of beautiful, chaotic impulse, you don't let him have it. Not yet.
You release his cock, hand slipping away just as the tension reaches its peak, and drag your soaked cunt back up the entire length of him in one loooong slide.
It feels like a collision of two fires.
In your desperation to feel everything you let your entire weight drop. The clench of your pussy as you cum wraps around the underside of his cock, squeezing him with a force that leaves him absolutely helpless.
He has no choice but to follow you into the fire.
Spurts of his cum paint the pale skin of his stomach, the liquid warmth spreading in thick, white streaks, pooling in his belly button.
For a few seconds, neither of you moves. There is only the sound of your breathing and the humid scent of your shared exhaustion.
“Was that pretty enough for you, cutie?” he teases, though his hand trembles slightly as he reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His thumb lingers on your cheek, like he’s constantly checking to make sure you haven't vanished into the night. "Or do we need to do it again?"
It’s late, way past the time Zayne would usually be nudging you to sleep but he’s still tucked away in his office, probably buried under a mountain of medical charts or surgical reports.
Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, watching a VIDEO of a girl grinding against a man’s thigh, bodies pressed together, his hands steady even as she buries her face in the crook of his neck. The guy in the video is wearing pajamas that look disturbingly similar to the ones Zayne is wearing right now.
Suddenly, the empty space in your bed feels a little too vast, your mind drifting to the office down the hall, aching to be that girl, to climb onto his Zayne's lap while he’s buried in medical charts and just... fuck yourself stupid.
You want to reach down and touch yourself but you’re a loud sleeper and an even louder moaner. If you start now, there’s no way he won't hear you through the walls, and you aren't quite ready for that kind of intimacy yet. So, you settle for a bit of digital venting. With a flushed face, you type out a quick comment on the video: "God, I wish I could do this while he's working..."
You go to save the link to your "Filthy Things" folder for a proper session tomorrow morning, but just as your thumb hovers over the screen, your phone starts vibrating. It’s Simone. She’s calling, probably to gossip about something trivial. In your rush to swipe the call and answer her, your finger taps the wrong folder.
And because Zayne is a man who is always, always connected to his devices for work... he’s going to see the notification the exact second it pops up.
🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺 🩺
It didn't take long. After that little "digital accident," the silence between you two wasn't awkward so much as it was heavy. Charged. He didn't even tease you about the comment. He didn't even blush. He just looked at you with those piercing eyes, a tiny, knowing quirk at the corner of his mouth, and silently commanded you to come to him.
And now, here you are. Perched on his lap, doing the same thing you saw on that video. Your lower half is completely bare, your thighs hugging his muscular one as you press yourself flush against him.
The friction is driving you completely insane.
Zayne, however, is a man of terrifying discipline.
His left hand is braced on your lower back, while his right hand moves across his keyboard. He’s actually working. He’s reviewing files, typing out notes, behaving as if you aren't currently trying to melt into his lap. Every so often, he’ll pause, not to stop you, but to lean in. His breath, cool and smelling faintly of mint, brushes against the shell of your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.
"Ah... Zayne..." you whimper against his neck as you press yourself harder against him. The sound is loud, far too loud for his quiet office and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.
"Hush now," he doesn't even look away from the monitor, though you notice the slight tightening of his jaw. "I need to focus. These reports won't write themselves."
He’s being difficult. He’s being a tease. And you love him for it.
You try to be "good." You force yourself to still when he has to write something long on his computer. You sit there, trembling slightly, waiting for him to acknowledge the havoc you're wreaking on his concentration.
A moment passes. The only sound is the soft click clack of the keyboard. Then, you feel his hand slide from your hip to the small of your back, pulling you just a fraction of an inch closer, a subtle command for you to keep going.
"Good girl," he whispers, the words a warm caress against your ear.
His expression is completely professional, but the way his fingers linger on your skin tells a completely different story. He’s still working, yes but he’s also letting you feel exactly how much of a distraction you really are.
Every time your thighs tense up, every time you desperately bite your lower lip to stifle a moan that threatens to shatter the silence, the air thickens with indecency.
He’s struggling. You aren't blind. You can feel the insistent twitch of his cock beneath you, reacting to every open mouthed kiss you press against the pulse of his neck, the sharp line of his collarbone, and the smooth expanse of his Adam's apple. He’s trying to maintain that surgeon’s calm, but his body is betraying him with every shuddering breath you take.
You’re right on the edge. Your clit is catching perfectly against the fabric of his pajamas, the material already damp and clinging to you from the amount of arousal you're leaking.
"Look at me."
His voice cuts through the air, forcing your gaze up. He wants to see the exact moment your eyes glaze over, the moment your breath hitches and tells the truth that your lips are trying so hard to hide.
When his hand slides up to cup your jaw, it isn't the gentle, comforting touch you're used to during a quiet movie on the couch. It's different. It's possessive. It’s a disciplined kind of dominance, a reminder that while he is the composed Zayne in the daylight, there is a much darker man caged behind that professional composure and you are the only one who knows how to let him out.
"You are close, aren't you, love?" he whispers, his lips hovering so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath.
You can barely manage a nod, your lungs feeling too small for the air you're trying to pull in. You're breathing directly into his slightly parted mouth.
"Cum for me, then," he exhales, a rare flush creeping up his cheeks, betraying just how much this is affecting him too.
He shifts his thigh, bouncing it up and down in a rhythmic motion that catches your clit perfectly.
The world tilts. You feel your eyes lose focus and you can't tell if it's the shaking of your limbs or the pounding of your heart that's making you tremble so violently.
"Zaynie... Zayne..."
His name becomes your entire vocabulary, there are no words left, only the sound of his name on your lips and the crashing sensation of finally, finally letting go.
You are flicking through a never ending stream of mindless clips and memes. It’s supposed to be a quiet afternoon, just a bit of scrolling to kill the time until Caleb comes back, but then there...
A VIDEO pops up. It’s not your usual aesthetic travel vlog or a cooking hack.
You freeze, your heart doing a weird, little skip in your chest. You know you should probably swipe past it, but your eyes are glued to the screen. It’s a girl, her lace panties completely drenched. The guy in the video isn't even taking them off, he’s just sliding the tip of his cock against her through the wet lace.
A sudden warmth blooms deep in your belly, spreading down until it feels like you’re melting into the cushions. God, you’ve been craving that. The teasing, the slow, agonizing buildup. You’ve spent so much money on delicate, expensive little sets, thinking maybe Caleb would appreciate the way they look on you, but hes a fucking dog. He doesn't do "slow." He usually just rips them or tugs them off with impatience, going straight for the heat of you. You just want him to play with you like that. To linger.
Your inhibitions are a little frayed from the visual, and before your brain can catch up to your impulse, your thumbs are flying. You tap the comment section, the screen a mess of unhinged messages from strangers, and you add your own little confession: “I really need him to play with me like this, but he prefers to eat it raw from the start😢”
You hit send, a tiny, embarrassed flush creeping up your neck, and immediately swipe the video away, feeling a bit silly for being so vulnerable to a bunch of internet strangers.
You toss the phone onto the cushion next to you a second later, completely oblivious to one mortifying detail. He’d logged into his account on your phone earlier when his own battery died, and you hadn't bothered to switch back.
In his office, the most dangerous man in Skyhaven is about to watch, in explicit detail, how you want to be ruined.
🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷 🪷
It turns out your assessment of him was spot on. The man is a fucking dog.
He hasn't taken your underwear off. That’s the part that’s driving you absolutely insane. The delicate lace is currently soaked, clinging to your pussy like a second, translucent layer of skin. He’s been working his tongue against the fabric, licks so long and heavy they feel like they’re reaching deep inside you. You’ve already been hit by two earth shattering, toe curling orgasms, your vision blurring every time his mouth finds your clit through the damp cloth. He hasn't even slowed down. If anything, it's getting worse.
“This is the reason I usually take off those pretty panties you wear” he presses his face into you, his broad tongue sweeping up in one stroke against your entire slit. You let out a choked, broken sound, fingers tangling desperately in his dark hair, trying to push him away just to catch your breath.
“Your scent is so fucking addictive,” he groans against your skin, “Especially after wearing them all day... knowing you've been walking around, smelling like this, just waiting for me.”
Then, he says something that makes your heart skip a beat not out of fear, but out of pure shock.
“You have no idea, do you?” he pants, nose brushing against your clit. “Last two years of High School... I spent them stroking my cock raw just to the smell of your panties. Thinking about you. Wishing you were right there."
Your vision blurs. Your hips jerk upward involuntarily as a third wave of pleasure crashes over you. You cum hard, your entire body shaking as you spill yourself directly onto his tongue, voice breaking into a high, desperate sob of his name.
He doesn't pull away. He just drinks you in, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tastes exactly what he's been craving.
The moment your legs stop trembling he hooks his fingers into the soaked gusset and drags it to the side, baring your swollen folds and your pulsing clit, sensitive from his relentless attention.
He doesn't thrust in. He doesn't go for the full stretch you’ve been silently praying for. Instead, he slides the drooling tip of his cock over your slit. He isn't even entering you yet, he's just... slapping it against your clit, teasing the very edge of your tolerance.
You wanted the lace, the play, the slow burn... but God, you also wanted him to fuck you until you couldn't remember your name. You wanted the stretch.
But Caleb is a man who listens. Or rather, he's a man who has spent a lifetime studying every detail of your desires and right now he is giving you exactly what you asked for.
He leans down, his eyes dark, watching the way your face contorts with pleasure and frustration. He doesn't give you the release of a full thrust, he just feeds you the tip. He slides just the head of his cock into your pussy, a teasing invasion that barely makes a dent.
The reaction is instantaneous. Your walls react to him like a living thing, clenching around him, desperately trying to suck him deeper, to pull the rest of him in. The sensation is so perfectly matched that a synchronized moan breaks from both of you.
He pulls out just a fraction and then he thrusts the tip back in. Over and over again.
“Please,” you whimper, the word sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “Baby, please...”
You’re trying to force him to go deeper. But he’s in total control. His left hand is working the length of his cock, pumping with a desperate rhythm, while his right hand finds your clit.
His eyes are pinned to yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face as if he’s trying to memorize the way you fall apart.
And then, the teasing ends.
His mushroom tip, still nestled just inside your entrance, begins to pulse. Warm, thick spurts of cum hit your sensitive walls, flooding the tiny space he’s occupied.
Your pussy clenches around the tip of his cock, trying to suck every last drop out of him while his hand squeezes the rest of his length, forcing the remainder of his seed into you, filling you up until his cum starts to leak out.
He finally collapses against you, the weight of his body pressing you deep into the mattress.
"You're so loud when you're happy," he murmurs before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple, then your cheek, before finally settling his lips against yours in a kiss that tastes of salt and everything you are to him.
He pulls back just a bit, his gaze dropping to where the soaked lace of your panties still clings to your thighs, then back up to your eyes. There’s a flicker of that obsessive intensity returning to his expression.
"There isn't a single thing in this world you could ask for that wouldn't make me crawl to you. So don't hold back, Pips."
You made the mistake of introducing cock warming to your already clingy boyfriend
Choso x reader; MDNI (18+)
You created a monster.
That's what you told yourself every time Choso looked at you with those dark, pleading puppy eyes—the ones that made your stomach flip and your resolve crumble entirely. It was an innocent suggestion at first, something you'd mentioned casually one lazy afternoon when he'd been particularly clingy, his large frame draped over you like a weighted blanket.
"Have you ever heard of cock warming?" you'd asked, fingers threading through his dark hair.
The way his eyes had widened, curious and hungry, should have been your first warning.
Now, three weeks later, you couldn't escape it. Choso had become utterly obsessed.
"Please?" His voice rumbled against your neck as you stood in the kitchen trying to make dinner. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you could feel him already half-hard against your lower back. "Just for a little while?"
"Choso, I'm cooking—"
"I'll be good," he whined, lips brushing your ear. "I promise, please?.."
That neediness in his voice always got you. The way this powerful man, capable of such devastating strength, reduced himself to begging just to be inside you, to feel your warmth around him. Not fucking, not even really sexual—just close.
You've learned quickly that Choso craved intimacy in ways he didn't quite understand himself. Having been denied human connection for so long, he'd latched onto this particular act more than you thought he would, yearning to feel you wrapped around him, squeezing him.
"After dinner," you promised, and felt him deflate slightly against you, though he didn't move away, only resting his chin against your shoulder in defeat, puffing out his cheeks.
"You always say that."
"And I always follow through, no?"
He hummed in, finally releasing you but still staying close, watching you cook with those wide eyes that tracked your every movement. You knew what he was thinking, how soon he could have you? How long were you gonna let him stay inside this time?
Without missing a beat, a few hours after dinner, Choso emerged from the bedroom with his controller and that look again. That pleading ‘too afraid to ask’ look.
"I was going to play for a bit," he started, eyes studying you, “wanna keep me…company?"
You lowered your book, looking at your puppy like boyfriend. "Choso."
"Please?" There it was—that soft, desperate whiny tone to his voice. He moved closer to you, kneeling in front of the couch, tossing his controller on the side so he could slid his hands across your thighs, pressing his fingertips gently into them. "I've been thinking about it all day, during training, during dinner... I just want to feel you."
"So needy."
"Your fault, I never ask for anything else please," he countered, and he wasn't wrong. Choso could go days without traditional sex, but this—this he craved constantly. The warmth, the connection, the intimate weight of you on his lap while he lost himself in whatever game currently held his attention, yourself just drifting into his arms while keeping him warm…
You sighed, but not a tired one, never for this at least, setting your book aside. "Fine. But I'm not moving off even if you get too excited."
His face lit up in a way that made your heart jump. "I'll behave, I promise!"
He never did, but you'd stopped minding since you enjoyed it probably just as much as he did.
Minutes later, you found yourself straddling his lap on the gaming chair, your sleep shorts and panties discarded, his sweatpants pushed down just enough. The stretch always made you gasp—Choso was thick, and taking him without much preparation required slow, careful movements.
But it really wasn’t much of a hassle, the sight of him yearning to feel you around him was just enough to get you worked up and ready for him.
"Fuck," he breathed, head fell back as you sank down onto him slowly, making sure he felt every inch of himself sink further into you. His hands gripped your hips, trembling with the effort of staying still. "God you feel good." He sighed like a smoker who’d taken their first drag of smoke after a long day, a soft whine leaving his lips.
You left a soft kiss to his lips, blowing a few praises at him before you wrapped your arms around his neck, chin resting between his shoulder and neck.
His arms wrapped around you in response, holding you close as he reached for the controller. The game loaded, familiar music filling the room, and you felt him relax beneath you, that tension holding onto his shoulders finally easing.
This was what he loved, the intimacy of it, the trust. You, wrapped around him, keeping him warm and grounded while he played. Just the two of you enjoying each others presence wihout having to speak.
It was peaceful, you dozed off against his shoulder, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the soft sounds of the game. His cock stayed hard inside you, twitching occasionally, but he remained still and good just as he promised.
But sometimes it could get long, you loved it of course! But you loved how easy Choso is to get worked up and you couldn't help but to play with that a little, just the simple act of clenching around his length had him throbbing against your walls.
You stirred against his neck, still drowsy from your power nap, and squeezed around him—just once, a gentle clench to test his reaction.
His breath caught for a second, you felt him throb inside you, his fingers tightened around the controller.
"Thought you were tired," He hummed at you through his arousal, eyes still focused on the screen in front of him.
You just shrugged and did it again.
A low sound escaped him this time—barely audible but since your ear was pressed to his neck you could hear everything. His breathing went shallow, chest rising and falling more rapidly beneath you. He adjusted his grip around the controller, trying to get some steadiness.
You squeezed again, smiling at how good he was reacting.
"Shit—" It came out strangled. His whole body tensed up, the smallest whine slipping out of him before he could stop it. Still, he kept his eyes on the game, jaw clenched, trying so hard to stay still just like you asked.
You clenched again, tighter this time.
His hips twitched up involuntarily. A broken moan escaping him, his breathing turned ragged—short, heavy gasps he couldn't control. You felt him pulse inside you, felt the trembling in his arms as he let go of the controller fully now, wrapping his arms and hands around you.
He tried muffling the sounds by hiding his face in the crook of your neck, which was completely ineffective.
The game sounds continued in the background, but his focus was gone. Every squeeze had him making soft, desperate noises—mewls and whines and groans he couldn't suppress, you loved hearing him like this. His grip on you turned almost bruising, his whole body shaking with the effort of staying still, to be good for you.
One more clench.
"I can't—" His voice broke. the chair creaking beneath you, holding you impossibly tight as his hips rocked inside of you slightly, barely, just the smallest movement into you to chase some relief. "I'm gonna—"
“Already Cho?” You hummed against his ear, knowing the chokehold you had on him. You wrapped your arms around him tighter, your hand finding his hair before you squeezed around him one last time.
He came with a choked moan, spilling inside you as he trembled through it, his face buried in your neck. His hips thrusted deep inside you once, but no desperate fucking to catch his relief no no— just you milking him fully with the way your walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper each time he throbbed inside of you.
You stayed like that, his cum leaking warm at his base as neither of you moved. His breathing slowly evened out against your neck, his arms still wrapped tight around you.
After a long moment, he let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest into yours, lifting his head to finally look at that mischievous smile spread across your face. "I think I should be the one telling you to stay good, not the other way around."
You smiled against his shoulder, fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Maybe."
He pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers weaving through your hair, gentle despite how tightly he'd been gripping you moments before trying to catch his high.
You lifted your head up, meeting with his half-lidded eyes, still hazy but there was something so loving in them, admiring you in the most intimate way like he always did.
You would stay on him like this for another while, Choso not letting you go anywhere as he went back to his game.
You created a monster, one that couldn’t get enough of feeling you wrapped around him.
a doting husband, a devoted father. watching him spoil your little girl rotten makes you start wondering… would it make you a bad wife to ask him for another baby?
genre/warnings:
18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, dad!caleb, explicit smut, breeding & pregnancy kink, crack, domestic bliss, veeery self-indulgent, you and caleb have a daughter (her name is lynn!)
notes:
takes place around five years-ish after weightless paradise. i’m just hungry for caleb okayyy </3 the propaganda i totally fell for: caleb is an amazing girl dad and i need whatever browcara he uses bc look at that thicc eyebrows 🤨
“Another baby, huh?”
After eight and half years of marriage, you had come to realize that your husband was not only a man in love, but also an incredibly wonderful father.
Taking care of others came as naturally to Caleb as breathing. It was in the way he always packed your daughter’s favorite snacks before preschool, in the patience while enduring her tea parties with plastic crowns perched atop his head, and how he would come home exhausted from work, but would scoop his little girl into his arms and smother her with kisses because she had apparently spent the entire evening waiting for him.
At the tender age of five, Lynn adored her father and had him wrapped around her pinky. Her preschool teachers adored him too, always giving him heart eyes without you knowing. And you... well...
“Well, your makeup’s smudged now...” Caleb wiped the ruined lip gloss from your lips with the pad of his thumb, his own lips glistening with it after kissing you senseless. His violet eyes twinkled with amusement. “So… do you want me to continue, or...?”
You want another baby with him.
The wish had settled into your heart long before today, though you had been too embarrassed to say it aloud. The thought of another little person with his eyes, his laugh, and his gentle heart was enough to make your chest flutter—
“Say something, hmm?” Caleb poked your cheek with a finger and you pursed your lips, trying to swallow the heat warming your body inside out.
“What, you don’t want it?” you defiantly looked up to him, despite how embarrassingly hot your face felt. Caleb openly chuckled at the sight, before pinching your cheek again.
A lifetime together had made him frighteningly observant— he could tell what you were thinking from the changes in your expression alone. The lingering way you had watched him play with your daughter, the softness in your gaze whenever he carried her around the kitchen, the way you had gone quiet afterwards…
Of course he knew what you wanted. It was, after all, what he had in mind too.
So, he wasted no time, asked you point blank the moment your sweet little girl fell asleep and let you come to his trap. As he expected, like a moth to flame, you were caught hook, line and sinker.
His hands tightened around your waist then, pulling you flush against him before he captured your lips once more.
“Mmmh...”
The scoff that left you dissolved instantly into a breathless sound when Caleb kissed you again— slow and dizzying enough to make your head spin. His grip remained firm while your hands instinctively slid upward into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as he kissed you deeper, pleased by how quickly you melted for him.
“Well then, to that I say... we should have another,” he growled finally when he broke the kiss.
. . .
The way his hands had wandered over you for the past hour told you everything his mouth had yet to say aloud. Caleb touched you like he was reacquainting himself with every inch of you, tracing each curve and hollow as though committing them to memory.
His fingers then drifted across the slight softness of your belly, over the skin that had stretched through the baby you had carried for him. Nonetheless, you were still enticing and beautiful to him.
Beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist, with his hot, girthy length buried deep inside... was you. You unwittingly let out a gasp, feeling how deliciously stretched and full you were. Caleb had moved against you with agonizing slowness, as though he was savoring every second instead of racing towards the end of it.
“Caleeeb,” you breathed, almost whiny, though even you couldn’t tell whether it came out as a protest or an encouragement.
“Yes?” His hips rolled forward, pulling a startled moan from you before a knowing smile curved at the corners of his mouth.
The sight of you putty under him, torn between salvaging your dignity or begging him to help was his favorite sight of you to date. Ever so shy with a touch of innocence...
And he is the only one who gets to corrupt you.
“What is it?” Caleb asked again, voice low and teasing as he brushed his nose against yours. “Tell me what you want.”
Are you cooked? Didn’t you cook yourself though? Anyways, you had gone to far to go back.
“Ahh—” you mewled, throwing your head back when he hit that one spot before slowing again, frustrated. “Go faster... already...”
His lips curled into a wicked grin. “I can’t hear you.”
Your daughter was five. Five years since you had carried life within you. Five years since sleepless nights of soothing a crying baby while Caleb lingered by the doorway, quietly watching you with unmistakable fondness in his eyes.
Lynn was fussy as a baby, but with each passing day, she resembled both you and Caleb even more— possessing your earnest disposition, his quick wit, and adorable to boot as he trailed after Caleb like a tiny shadow, asking endless questions about sky and stars while staring up at him with sparkling, curious eyes that had the very same color as his own.
You loved being a mom, and you didn’t need to ask him to know that your husband loved fatherhood just as much.
“Give me—” You gripped his shoulder, staring hard at him as your nails digging in his skin sharp enough that he hissed, “another baby. Now.”
His amethyst eyes widened a fraction at your demand. You could have sworn his face reddened too at your boldness, but then a haze clouded his beautiful eyes, as he whispered in your ear:
“In good time, honey.”
And in the very next smooth thrust, he tore a startled squeal from your lips. It was hard, fast, and overwhelming after all the slow teasing from before, enough to leave you with tears in your eyes.
“I love her—” Thrust. “I love watching Lynn grow—” Thrust. “hearing her silly stories—” Thrust. “I love being a father, damn it—”
He punctuated each statement with a fast-paced thrust, and you felt your voice dissolving into strangled moans. Your fingers dug even deeper into his shoulders, nails leaving crescents in his skin.
“But I love this too,” he groaned, voice in a growl as his hand slid down to rest against your lower belly, thumb stroking gently over the skin there. His gaze darkened that it make your pulse stutter.
“I love the thought of giving you... another baby— so t-that everyone... can see and know that you are mine.”
A certain population of men found their wives unappealing during and after pregnancy, but not him. Oh, he so adored the very image of you waddling and swollen with his baby. It gave him the primal satisfaction— that everyone who looked at you would know exactly who had done that and to whom you belonged to.
It just made him feel powerful in a way nothing else did.
“You... like it?” you almost chuckled. Your hand rested over his where it pressed against your stomach. “You like... seeing me pregnant?”
“Yes.”
The answer left him rugged and breathless, almost strangled from how quickly it escaped him. Whatever restraint Caleb had been clinging to began slipping after that, his movements losing their earlier patience.
“God, yes,” he admitted in a grunt as he thrusted again harshly and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “I love it.” His forehead pressed against yours, like he could not bear even an inch of distance between you. “I love watching your body change. I love seeing your belly grow and knowing we made that together. I love—”
He broke off with a shaky exhale, burying his face against your neck as though the rest of the words were too overwhelming to say aloud.
Damn. He loved it when your breasts swelled with milk in the later stages of pregnancy. It made you even more sensitive than you normally were, and he would spend hours worshipping and pleasuring you with his mouth and hands— and your blissed out expression when he did that was so priceless he wished he could get you even more pregnant than you already were.
His rhythm had become desperate and erratic now, as he lost his control entirely. You could feel him getting close. Your own pleasure was building too, heat coiled low within in your lower belly, steadily tightening until your thighs trembled around him.
“I’ll put another baby in you,” he breathed against your mouth, words rough and broken between kisses. “Maybe this time it’ll be a boy—”
“Ah— Caleb…!”
Your voice dissolved into a helpless cry as your head fell back against the pillows, back arching to its fullest.
“That’s it,” he whispered shakily as he felt you tremble, his eyes unfocused and dark with lust. “Yes— Just like that. Come for me. Let me feel you!”
You did, pleasure crashing over you in waves that left you gasping. Your body clenched around his massive cock, pulling him deeper, and he followed almost immediately after with a breathy groan that might have been your name or a prayer or both— burying his face in your shoulder as his potent release flooding your womb in swift rush.
He collapsed against you, still buried deep, his heart hammering against your chest. For a long moment, neither of you moved. You could feel him pulsing inside you, still filling you with everything that was his.
“So… you have a fetish,” you accused between uneven breaths, still trying to recover.
Caleb let out a muffled laugh against your neck. “I don’t have a— that’s not—”
“You absolutely do.”
“It’s not a fetish,” he argued, lifting his head to look at you with a grin despite the flushed state of both of you. “I just happen to love my wife too much I want to give her more babies.”
Caleb kissed you before you could even think of responding. There was laughter hidden somewhere, fondness tangled inseparably with desire.
“You’d spoil a son just as badly as you spoil Lynn,” you managed breathlessly when he pulled slightly.
“I will spoil all three of you because I love you,” he shot back instantly, voice strained but certain, eyes crinkling. “You won’t have to fight for my attention, don’t worry.”
“Daddy, daddy, can you please do my hair?”
“Shh… Mommy’s still sleeping, sweetheart. Quiet voices, remember?”
You stirred awake slowly at the sound of whispering nearby, warmth still lingering through your body as the morning light filtered softly through the curtains. For a moment, you remained still beneath the blankets, eyes only barely open as you watched the scene unfolding at the edge of the bed.
Your little girl, Lynn, sat cross-legged between Caleb’s legs, clutching a hairbrush in both hands while your husband—still entirely shirtless and very much half-awake—carefully gathered her hair into sections.
The sight alone nearly made your heart melt. Caleb looked absurdly serious for someone braiding tiny pigtails at sunrise.
“There,” he murmured once he finished, gently tightening the braid. “All done. Does it hurt?”
“Nope!” Lynn chirped. “You’re better than Mommy!”
You nearly scoffed aloud at the betrayal. Caleb, meanwhile, looked unbearably smug. “Oh? Is that so?”
“Mhm!” she nodded enthusiastically. “Mommy makes it too tight sometimes.”
“That’s because I spend extra time making you look pretty,” Caleb said with a grin, patting her head. Then he leaned down to nuzzle his nose against her cheek, making her burst into giggles. “Which is exactly why I’m keeping you.”
Lynn laughed a little too loudly, causing Caleb to immediately place a finger over his lips.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered dramatically, glancing toward the bed. “If Mommy wakes up, she’ll steal me away from you. So we’ve got to stay quiet, okay?”
“That’s because Mommy loves you the most,” Lynn whispered back just as seriously.
Caleb pretended to think about it. “Hmm… I don’t know. I think you might love me more.”
Your daughter gasped softly. “Nooo. Mommy loves you this much.” She stretched her arms wide as far as they could go.
“And how much do you love me?”
Lynn paused dramatically before suddenly throwing her arms around his neck. “Thiiis much!”
A quiet laugh escaped Caleb as he wrapped an arm securely around her small body to stop her from toppling backwards.
Hidden beneath the blankets, you could only smile at the sight, so overwhelmed with affection that it almost hurt.
Your daughter loved him completely, and Caleb cherished her with every ounce of tenderness he possessed. He looked at Lynn the same way he looked at you—with gentle wonder, as though she alone hung every star in the sky.
And watching them together now made warmth bloom inside your chest, because you knew with complete certainty that if you were blessed with another child after this, then Caleb would love them just as fiercely too.
Epilogue
“Oh, Lynn,” Caleb said suddenly, putting her down. “That reminds me. Daddy wants to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
Caleb’s lips twitched faintly. “Mommy and Daddy are currently working to give you a little sibling… so would you rather have a baby brother or a baby sister?”
?! You shifted in your blankets and Caleb immediately flicked a knowing, suggestive glance towards you. Oh, he absolutely knew you were awake!
Lynn gasped softly like this was the most important question she had ever been asked. “A baby sister!” she declared excitedly.
“Oh? Why a sister and not a brother?”
“Because I already know how to be a girl,” she explained with complete confidence. “So I can teach her things. If it’s a boy, he’ll eat bugs.”
“I see… A very important concern,” Caleb nodded solemnly, clearly fighting his amusement. “But what if Mommy gives us a baby boy first? You’ll still love him too, right?”
“Hmm... sure, I can...” Lynn puffed out her cheeks, but then looked at him with shining amethyst eyes. “But can you promise to make me a little sister next?”
Caleb laughed softly before pulling her closer with one arm. “Of course, sweetheart…”
And then, shamelessly, he looked towards you again, who was gaping at him, a satisfied smirk slowly spreading across his face.
you spend time together on collective days off, cuddling and watching tv in peace until he turns his head towards your cunt, rubbing the tip of his finger right over your clothed clit. you used to get shy and push him away, but you’ve become accustomed to his strange habits now. it was like a compulsion—he couldn’t go a single day without exploring your pretty pussy and finding new ways he could make you feel good.
it was easy when you reacted to his every touch, a dark patch forming after a few minutes of him teasing you. he always ignored your whines and instead chose to replace his finger with his nose, swiping through your slick folds and inhaling the sweet scent of your cunt.
“xavi…”
“you just smell so good my star, wanna live here”
he wouldn’t even bother properly taking your panties off, instead choosing to hook a finger beneath the band and pull them to the side so he could make out with your pussy. he let his tongue explore every inch of you, drinking in as much as he could before finally dipping inside your greedy hole. you were already close before he even had his mouth on you, but the way he was moaning into you had your thighs pressing tighter around his head.
“oh fuck…please my girl, need you to cum on my tongue”
he was so whiney, nearly tearing up as he tried to press you even closer to his mouth. it wasn’t until you saw him desperately rutting against his hand, a big dark stain forming on the front of his sweats, that you finally let go, crying his name as you rode the aftershocks of pleasure on his tongue.
he kissed your inner thighs as you tried to calm your breathing, stroking your waist and praising ‘how well you did’. after a few minutes passed though, he’d return to his task, now focusing his relentless stimulation on your clit, determined to have you squirt on his face.
inspired by this ask that my lovely @zayora sent from her idea. don’t actually read it tho it sucks (i tried mommy)
"Still with me, kitten?" Sylus hums, broad hands smoothing down your sides before curling his fingers possessively around your hips so he can slam his cock back into your swollen hole with ease.
"Haah—! Sy—s'too much—" you manage between choked out moans.
"But you're taking it so good, sweetie," he praises, leaning his large frame over your body.
His face nuzzles into your neck before planting open mouth kisses over your skin. They are slow and messy, because he loves softly showing you affection while you’re trembling beneath him wayyy to much.
With your head hazy from your previous two orgasms, you grasp the comforter and drag your pliant body forward, trying to run away from his thrusts for, embarrassingly, the third time. Your thighs shake with the effort, but it proves useless when he follows immediately, crowding over you until his weight is too heavy for you to move.
Sylus growls then tsks, his tone shifting from praise to punish as one hand leave your hip to find your hair.
The silky strands wrap once around his fist before he tugs, forcing your head back and baring your throat. The position makes another broken moan spill from your lips, your back arching helplessly against his chest as he thrusts deeper in response.
"Where are you going?" he asks, punctuating each word with a rough slam of his hips.
Plap, plap, plap.
It's the only sound accompanying the thoughts in your head, all of which are filled with Sylus—and his cock which is splitting you open over and over as he holds you tight, keeping you from escaping what he's giving you.
And from the vulnerable position he has you in, you have a feeling he plans on keeping you like this a lot longer.
𝟅ϱ sum. arguing with sylus in missionary! cw : mdni, argument, make up sex, sylus is a caring husband.
frankly, you don’t even know what the argument has been about, or if you can even call it an argument. between the lengthy assignments you have to do on short notice and your husband barely batting an eye when he pisses you off, you are a wreck.
“ y-you never listen to me; all you do is talk.” you’re currently situated under your annoying husband in question, legs parted on both sides of his hips, hands interlocked as he presses soft kisses into your sweaty skin, appearing as if he’s barely listening to your complaints— which you know is far from true. sylus is anything but neglectful when it comes to you, and somewhere deep inside you know that. you just can’t get that part of your brain to rationalize in your anger. “ you’re doing it again… not listening.”
“ i am listening, sweetie.” his hot breath touches your skin as he exhales with a soft chuckle, removing his face from your chest to make eye contact with you as he presses deeply into your wet warmth. despite your attitude, you hold him close, nails slightly digging into the expanse of his back while his dick reaches such deepness inside you that you almost forget why you’re mad. “ i just didn’t want to make my kitten get even more fussy while she rants about me. continue, i’m all ears.”
you dart your eyes away, focusing on anything in the room that can distract you from how badly you want to be vulnerable and crumble in his arms. his fingers on your chin pull your gaze back to him, lips curled into that boyish but shit-eating smirk.
“ oh? cat got your tongue?”
“ this cat will strangle you,” you uttered, maintaining eye contact as he made sloppy thrusts with his hips, knocking on your sweet spot and briefly passing it. the lowness of his voice hinted at a sultry purr, and you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching down on him harshly, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly; you scratched at the untamed skin there. “ hah, j-just like that, sylus.”
“ has my sweetheart of a wife returned back to me? or does she still want to rip my head off with her tiny claws?” sylus’ teasing words trail off into a groan as your walls refuse to loosen their grip on him. he straightens his back, hands firmly but softly pressing your knees into your chest as he re-enters into your whiny cunt with the purpose of scrambling your mind and words. pride washes over him once he sees you keen and grasping for closure on the messy bed as he impossibly discovers places so deep in your walls it feels as if he’s searching through your brain. “ it’s okay, i’ll just help you make up your mind in the process.”
“ f-fuck you, sylus!” through your panting you still bitterly curse him out. your words do no sort of impact on him; all he does is shrug them off, smirk widening even more while watching you try to catch up with your breathing. it all feels so good, watching you refuse to back down knowing that by the end of the night he’ll pry out what made you mad in the first, even if he has to do it while fucking all thoughts out your pretty mind.
“ jokes on you, kitten. i believe you’re already doing so.” you didn’t have a response; he laughs at that. bending your legs onto his shoulders he thrusts into you with free range, eye to eye, skin to skin, and mouth to mouth. when you disconnect there is a string of combined saliva between and a lingering warmth. “ if you tell me what’s wrong, i can make you feel better. you don’t have to do mind games with me, kitten.”
painfully, your heart clenches. “ s-sylus,” is all you can manage to whimper out as tears begin to pool in the eyes he loves so much. you don’t register when they drop until he starts peppering your wet skin with his soft kisses. his once erratic hips slow their pace, leaving a space of understanding where you can melt into him fully. “ ‘m sorry for being an… ass. just been so stressed out.”
“ i told you multiple times you can quit your job and work for me. stress free, and you have me to yourself all day.”
“ d-don’t joke around like that!” you whimper, eyelashes clumped together due to the moisture of your tears as your body underneath him continues to jolt and squirm in the utmost of pleasure and passion. the way how he shushes your cries and wipes your tears away is the softest feeling in the world. you hiccup when he fiddles with your clit with soft touches, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer. “ sylie… wanna cum.”
“ now i’m sylie? you’re a tricky one.” he’s back at the teasing, but it’s half hearted compared to how he usually pisses you off in outstanding ways. the more and more you stared at him, the more you wanted to be one in his skin, a small part of you consider actually taking his offer. his thumb speeds on your erect clit, wringing more wetness from your slit that coats his dick in a glimmering sheen, which also gets on the base of him. “ such a brat.”
“ ‘m sorry, you win.” you pout, trailing your hand to his soft white hair, gently tugging it, pulling a soft groan from him. he presses down on your clit— just a tad, watching your legs tense and threaten to tremble and he coaxes you into an orgasm. “ s-sylus!”
for the rest of the night he softly shushes your whimpers as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, enough to leave you happy for the rest of the month.
warnings. mdni. gojo accidentally puts u in a mating press during a playfight, dry huming + cumming in pants.
Satoru Gojo is built like a fucking tank and it’s no exaggeration—broad-shouldered, firm, and heavy. Built with a density that makes the air around him feel thin. It’s most obvious when he’s fresh from the gym, black compression shirt stretched over his frame, tracing the hard line of his chest and the way his biceps coil with the slightest twitch of his fingers.
It’s why you keep baiting him into these meaningless little skirmishes—soft provocations just to feel the sheer, overwhelming force of him. To let him catch your wrists and remind you exactly how easily he can fold you into the floor.
Your lungs burn already. You’re shoving, palms flat against the unyielding fabric of his shirt, straining until your muscles shake. But it’s useless. There’s a pronounced imbalance in physical strength, not that you’re complaining (obviously), but he could at least pretend there isn’t and budge a little, for the sake of your dignity.
“Shit, ‘toru,” you grunt, the words squeezed out of your chest. “How much… do you even weigh? Feels like im trying to push a fuckin’ sumo wrestler off me or some shit.”
He lets out a huff of a laugh then looks down at you with a lazy smirk. His chest’s rising and falling in a steady rhythm that mocks your ragged gasps. You’re throwing your entire weight into him, and it barely registers as a nuisance.
“Baby are you serious? A sumo wrestler? That’s harsh, I’m definitely more aerodynamic than that.” he murmurs, playfully whilst continuing to watch you struggle against his solid frame with a look of secret amusement. “C’mon. Put your back into it, I’m barely even trying y’know?”
He sounds too pleased with himself. Your brows pinch together, jaw tightening as your teeth grind in contained irritation. This was your idea, but your competitive streak is now insisting this was, in fact, a bad idea. Frankly, it’s the tone you can’t stand, speaks like he’s graciously humoring a toddler. You want to hurt him. Or, failing that, at least remind him that gravity is supposed to apply to him, too.
So, you move. You hook your arms around him, your legs following suit as you try to wrench the momentum and roll him. For a split second, he shifts—and there is hope—then his hand, massive and quick, snaps around your ankles mid-air and hope is fleeting.
He forces your legs up and back, folding you like a pretzel until your heels are practically tucked behind your ears. It’s a position you’ve been put in many times, but not outside of the bedroom. It makes your skin crawl with heat. You’re exposed, crotch pressed into his. Your tight athletic shorts cling to your puffy folds and offer zero protection from the pressure of him.
“Okay, Satoru, what the fuck?” you choke out, blood rushing to your head.
“Shit reflex,” he laughs, sending a vibration through your trapped body. His crystalline eyes are dark, tracing the way you’re pinned underneath him. “My bad, baby.”
“You’re a dick. Let go.”
Naturally, he ignores you entirely and does the opposite with an infuriating grin that has him looking way too attractive for someone being this much of a prick.
“How about in a couple seconds, hm?”, His grip on you tightens and he hitches his hips forward, growing cock rubbing right against your clothed-cunt, “She feels soft. Haven’t rubbed up on her like this in a while, miss it.”
You look up and his white hair’s disheveled from and there’s a deep flush on the tips of his ears. He’s so pretty. It sucks how that face lets him get away with being such a degenerate.
“Fine,” you breathe out, the word caught in your throat. “Just make it quick. My legs are gonna cramp if you keep me locked like this.”
You don’t need to tell him twice ‘cuz he’s already humping into your pussy like an animal in heat. His sweats are thick, but they do nothing to hide the rock-hard length of him. Each time he drives his hips home, he’s grazing your clit through the dampening layers. He’s got your pretty pussy leaking like a broken faucet—slick patch spreading on the fabric. Each blunt shove against your folds drags a broken, messy string of moans out of you that you can't even try to swallow.
“Shit, feels so good,” he groans into your ear, body getting heavier, slumping on top of you, “we…fuck—we should play fight more often. Yeah? How’s that sound?”
He presses his mouth against yours, tasting like fruity flavored gum and sweets. You’re swallowing his moans, your own breath hitching as he keeps up his bruising pace. Then one final, harsh shove and he goes rigid. His eyes go semi-wide, pupils blown out and unfocused, fixed on nothing as his brain shorts out. Before you realize there’s already a heavy dampness flooding the space between you, white stringy liquid soaking through the fabric of his sweats and bleeding right into your own clothes.
He doesn't move for a long minute, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Then, slowly, he lifts his head and lets out a long exhale, his chests heaving and his signature smirk replaced by a look of daze.
"Well," he rasps, a lazy, lopsided grin slowly pulling at his mouth. "Think I’ll give you the win on that one. Though, you're a mess, babe. Completely soaked."
He pulls back just an inch, cartoonishly blue eyes tracking the damp mess of your shorts, "Pretty sure you're gonna need a shower to get all that off you.” He pauses, smiling at you cat-like, “Want to go see if I can fit in there with you? I promise to help with the hard-to-reach spots."
+ another dry humping post act shocked. ty sichee 4 proofreading @ouist
𝜗◞ ♡ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 ; gazing at 𝒈𝒐𝒋𝒐 & his lifted shirt results in him dry humping you ꒱
every time you catch sight of gojo's happy trail your heart skips a beat. his arms lifting over his head to stretch his limbs out, the t-shirt he's wearing lifting up just enough to display the enticing visage of his lower abs leading down into his pants. white tufts of hair creeping out his pants and trailing upwards enough for you to see and feel a certain way about.
you avert your eyes after staring for far too long, long enough for gojo to pause mid stretch and tilt his head at you. his gaze trailing down his own body, trying to ascertain where you were looking. he doesn't seem like the astute type but you can practically feel the amusement rolling off him, easily picking up on what caught your attention.
"if you wanted me to take my shirt off... you could just ask."
you grumble back at him, annoyed by his ability to notice everything about you, "i don't want you to take your shirt off."
he hums a lilted tune, "hmm, certainly didn't seem that way with how you were eye-fucking me."
"i was not!" you gape at him, "you're imagining things, i fear your ego is growing too large for you to handle."
gojo walks the short distance to where you're sitting on the couch, his form leaning down so he's in your space. lips already hovering over yours as he asks, "so, we're not going to have sex on the couch?"
“i’m not that easy.”
a light laugh leaving him, “i am, you looked at me and now i’m all hard.”
"that's not my probl—"
his lips on yours shut you up, kiss heavy and already needy. he doesn't waste any time slipping his tongue into the mix, the taste of you making him shiver and whine. a sudden pressure around your wrist alerts you to his hold, his hand guiding yours. he places it under his shirt, your palm resting against the same trail of hairs that landed you in this situation.
the thrill that moves through you has you gasping into his mouth, pussy fluttering from how easily he overwhelms your senses. melting into him, letting him kiss you stupid. growing too horny to continue this way, you hold onto him and somehow manage to get him to lay on the couch.
his back resting on the cushions with you straddling him. "i wanna ride you," words spoken soft and tantalising, hand slipping under his shirt again to rest where it once was.
gojo's shirt rides up with your touch, the warm pressure of your soft palm has his cock twitching in his pants. "are you waiting for an invitation?"
"more like a plea," you challenge his glib attitude.
"pleaseee sit on my dick, pretty," his hands slide up your thighs to grip your hips, "i'm aching for it." and as if to prove his point, he ruts his hips up under you. grinding his erection against your clothed cunt.
your nails lightly scratch against his skin, lungs shuddering from the much needed stimulation. you're digging your teeth into your lower lip to stifle down any pathetic sound he might be able to pull from you. failing completely when he tugs you down at the same time that he's rutting up.
"fuuuuck– hold on– hnn– this feels soo—" he doesn't finish his sentence, head tilting back as he keeps dry humping you.
his skin is all flushed and radiating heat, eyes dazed and lost in the muted pleasure he's gaining from this. he's acting like a dog as he keeps relentlessly grinding against you. a small and pitiful whimper leaves him and you're keening into it. hands tugging his shirt up more, palms perched on him as you meet his grinds.
"wait– wait– hng– i'm gonna—" even though he's asking you to wait he doesn't stop his hips, continuing until he's shuddering through his own orgasm.
his pants growing damp as he cums in them, gojo can feel the way his seed clings to his clothes. coating his dick in his own sticky release. if it hadn't felt so fucking good he'd probably be embarrassed but he's in complete bliss right now.
"did you just cum?" you ask him, somehow even more aroused. his relaxed and borderline fucked out expression making you want him more.
he's panting softly, eyes glazed over as he answers, "you shouldn't have looked at me like that."
ꫂ᭪݁ random things husband!nanami does that you find attractive
content warnings. dadamin 👅, dilf!nanami (aura wise), modern!au duh, reader is pretty weird but arent we all?, reader is referred to as ( darling, sweetheart, angel ), not proofread we die like satoru gojo, you both have a cat, suggestive
author’s note. thank you all for 300 followers ♥︎ i wouldn’t have done this without any of you or your support
EXHIBITION (A): COOKING @ 8:48AM
it was yet another morning in the nanami household. like clockwork, kento woke up early and fed your cat, jazz. his pyjama pants were resting low on his waist, scratches all over his back from last night’s, er.... shenanigans.
he whipped out a pan from the oven and placed it on the stove top, meaning to make pancakes. just as he was pouring the mixture into the oiled pan, he heard your feet padding down the stairs, “good morning, sweetheart,” he said in that raspy, deep voice of his.
you had to bite back a moan, seriously.
i mean, the sight in front of you first thing in the morning was enough to warrant a moan, an orgasm even. your hot husband standing, cooking for you, broad back flexing, sun shining down at him highlighting his features, making him look like an angel in his grey sweatpants glory, finally wearing something that wasn’t his three-piece suit.
nanami’s voice snapped you out of your daze, “darling, are you alright?”
“pshhtttt, why wouldn’t i be alright?” you threw your hand in front of you awkwardly. nanami hums, “i don’t know, you zoned out there for a moment.”
you scoff in response, “what, so i can’t admire my husband nowadays?”
he chuckles, “i didn’t say that, sweetheart.”
the moment is cut at the feeling of a cat nuzzling against your legs. you bend down to pick up the cat in front of you, “good morning, baby” you say in a high-pitched voice and jazz just meows in response. because, believe it or not, that’s what they do.
then you put jazz down and go love on your husband a little bit.
you hug his side and pepper kisses his cheek before trailing down to his neck, sucking some spots there.
yeah, nanami knows that you’re clingy but not to this point. but he chooses not to question it further and soakes in the love you’re showering him with instead.
EXHIBITION (B): DRIVING @ 1:12PM
since it’s a weekend, you both figured it would be nice to go to the beach.
you pack all the things you need and place them in the trunk. you wore a pair of meduim-rise shorts and a cape top underneath your two-piece set. meanwhile, nanami just wore a tshirt over his swimming trunks.
the sun formed a halo around the both of you, making you look like angels.
the car speakers that were connected to your phone were blasting every summertime by niki, perfectly setting that summer vibe.
on a normal day, you would be singing along (loudly and totally off key) to whatever was playing or taking some scenery pictures with you and nanami’s shared camera that you decided to buy even if you’re mostly the one who uses it.
but today is different and somehow just like any other day.
you always stare at nanami when he drives because he just looks so hot doing the most mundane stuff. although today, he just stood out with how the sun was shining over him.
“you’re staring, sweetheart,” nanami breaks the silence glancing briefly at you then returns his attention back to the road.
“i can’t help it, you just look so... scrumptious” you admit shamelessly.
he fucking chuckles and you think it’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard despite hearing it many, many times.
you just keep staring in awe, jaw slack. until he utters:
“i can just pull over, you know.”
he’s mostly teasing you and you know he’s just teasing so the next right thing to do is... tease him back, “don’t tempt me with a good time, mr. nanami.”
he chuckles and you both fall back into comfortable silence.
EXHIBITION (C): PUTTING STUFF TOGETHER @ 5:02PM
you both read so often and own so many books you didn’t realise that it was growing ever so rapidly.
that’s led to now: you were leaning on the wall in front of your husband who was currently sprawled on the ground putting together your second bookshelf.
but that’s not the point.
you were biting your lips so much you could almost feel the metallic taste of blood.
why is that?
well, while your dear darling husband was screwing in the screw, the veins on his forearms were bulging and what a sight it was.
to say you were mesmerised would be an understatement.
you genuinely felt like you were gonna pounce at him in any moment.
he turned to see you blantly staring at his forearms and smirked, “like what you see, darling?”
hearing his voice snapped you out of your daze, “you’re just seeing things, ken.”
kento chuckles and replies: “keep staring, sweetheart,” he glances at you, still smirking.
you felt your face flushes even more at his comment. screw you, nanami kento!!!!
EXHIBITION (D): READING @ 9:20PM
you’re tapping the moisturiser into your face and kento is just taking his supplements.
he settles into bed and you follow after wrapping your hair in the bonnet. he wraps his arm around your waist while picking up the book he was reading earlier that day to do what he loves doing most in his free time (other than enjoying your company): read.
jazz climbs up onto the bed and nuzzling into your lap. “hi, baby!!!! you wanna sleep with mama and papa?” you spoke in that high-pitched voice you always use with cats and kids.
the cat in your lap just purrs contently and nuzzles himself deeper into your lap.
but your attention got redirected to something else.
your attention is now on the man sitting next to you, peacefully reading. you decide that his peace isn’t gonna last long.
“ken, has anyone ever told you how handsome you look while reading?” you ask him while grinning like a fool in love (you are).
“no one except you, darling,” he says calmly.
“mmm, maybe i should tell you more often,” you hum sleepily before laying down, drifting off to dreamland.
he kisses your head and murmurs “goodnight, my love.”
being in various states of dressed (or undressed) with the lads men ft xavier, sylus, caleb
notes: fem reader, fluff but caleb's has a moment, needy/yearning men, title from here, suggestive in all but xavier ummmmm.... well the only reason i was able to write anything remotely like #that is because i was so high off my ass i felt like i was in spy kids. 3 to be specific
༄ xavier:
somebody is definitely pulling a prank on you.
all morning, your co-workers have been giving you double takes and snickering in your direction. you tried to ask simone, but all she had said is that she's, "glad you and xavier get along so well." you'd checked in a hand mirror in a paranoid fit that you'd somehow missed covering up bruises from him, but found no such thing present.
suspiciously enough, you seem to be the only one subject to this ridicule, since xavier has evaded all contact with others today, yourself included. it's the thing that tips you off, since he normally is stapled to your side at work.
that's fine, because when you send him a text implying you're irritated with him, he's quick to fold and say he'll meet you in a bit.
you're on the way to find said man when a hand tugs you into one of the spare meeting rooms. you stumble for a moment before meeting a familiar white uniform, complete with grey gloves and black leg harnesses.
… black?
before xavier can voice what you've surmised, you glance down and see his grey leg harnesses on you, and being the butt of everyone's joke this morning makes sense.
"how did we manage to mix up each other's accessories?" you groan, letting your forehead fall against his shoulder. his hands wrap around your waist, and you can feel the smallest curve of a smile when he kisses the top of your head.
"sorry for not bringing it up sooner," he hums softly. he adjusts your head to look at you but you scowl at him and pull back before he can.
ignoring the betrayed look on his face, you gawk at him, "you knew?!"
suddenly, xavier has no interest in making eye contact with you, finding the 'good hunters throw their trash away!' sign in the corner of the room extremely fascinating. you reach up and harshly grab his cheeks to force him to look at you. he whimpers at the motion, sucking in at the irritated look in your eye.
gritting your teeth, you point to your harnesses strapped (rather tightly) to his leg and lowly tell him, "give them back. now."
a flash passes before he's on his knees, resting your right leg on his shoulders. his gloves come off to unbuckle the straps easier, making quick work of the leather. it clinks to the floor, a metallic echo filling the otherwise quiet room.
xavier pauses before moving his fingers and brushing the inside of your thigh. your breathing is slow, baited, unsure of what to say or do in such a delicate moment. he blinks up at you for a brief moment before leaning in and leaving a trail of kisses up your leg. you quietly say his name, like you're trying to remind him where you are, but it doesn't seem to deter him. his lips gently touch your clothed heat, finally staring up at you with reverence and speaking with an even tone.
"they won't need us for a while."
༄ sylus:
you frantically rush around sylus' apartment, sticking earring through your lobes and looking for your chap-stick you misplaced. you shrug up your shoulder to fix the sleeves of your dress, annoyed at how they're already starting to fall. if this is going to be an all night thing, you're already sorting through other options in your head.
amused by your distress, sylus watches you roam with keen eyes. you're not even close to being late yet, so he has no idea why you seem to think the world is ending.
you know he's thinking this before he even alludes to it because he says it to you every single time, so you cut him off before you can hear his annoying comments.
"you and i both know i'm gonna want a drink on the way there, so i'll pre-order it and ask if you want anything and you'll say 'no sweetie,' but then we'll get to the window and you wait and look at the menu and then take five thousand years to pick a drink and they have to make it and then add it onto my drink that's been sitting there instead of just telling me you wanted one from the beginning," you huff in one breath, trying to catching it back afterward.
he fails to cover the hearty laugh at your dedicated defense. you simply roll your eyes and adjust your sleeves again with a groan, making your way back over to the closet and complaining to your boyfriend about the improper fit.
a breeze washes across your skin and you shiver before feeling calloused fingers gliding across your back. sylus' voice is smooth in your ears as he chuckles, "there's a very simple explanation for that."
slowly, the zipper of your dress makes it way up from the bottom, across your spine. you have no idea how you managed to completely forget to zip it up in the first place, lightly embarrassed that your sleeve issue could've easily been fixed earlier.
sylus' other hand rests on your waist, squeezing just tightly enough to let you know he's using quite a bit of self control at the moment. you crane your head just barely to see him tenderly staring down at you, only noticing the glaze over his eyes if you focus enough.
"guess i'd be lost without you, huh?" you ask in a hushed tone. he hums in response, leaning down to press his lips to your nape. he inhales, shuddering at the scent of your perfume overwhelming his senses. his hands stop their movement, starting to reverse and tug the zipper back down but failing to get too far before you stop him.
"behave," you tell him, though it's hard to sound too forceful when you're still in a daze yourself. "you and i both know we can't miss this event."
his smile twitches upward, insisting on reaching for the zipper once more as he murmurs in your ear, "no promises."
༄ caleb:
the front door to caleb's apartment whips open and smacks against the wall as you tumble in with a cheer, your boyfriend shaking his head behind you. despite the scent of alcohol wafting from your breath, he still tugs you in for a kiss while closing the door.
"you're a disaster, baby," he tells you with his mouth against yours, but the full extent of his words don't really reach your drunken state. you just giggle into the kiss before deepening it, letting your hands roam his body with abandon. a noise of protest trickles up from your throat when, for once, he's the one to part away from you first.
caleb lifts you up in a princess hold, trying to maneuver to the bedroom while you're dragging your palm across his face and laughing at how squishy it is. when you two do finally make it, he playfully tosses you onto his bed and leans over to cup your cheek in his hand and give you a kiss on the forehead.
"as badly as i would love nothing more than to kiss you senseless," he starts, his eyes softening as how peaceful you look being cradled in his hold, "i would like it way more if you actually remembered what happened when you wake up tomorrow morning."
a slurred combination of a squeal and whine is your undignified response when caleb lightly swats your rear and subsequently avoids the kick of your leg towards his chest because of it. you can hear the sound of his chuckles bouncing around your head, mixing with the opening and closing drawers he seems to be going through.
your arm rests across your eye, grateful caleb only put the lights on dim to avoid making your head hurt more. the world begins to feel hostile to your inebriated self and your previous joy is quickly dissipating. caleb must be able to tell because his hands are back on you, carefully taking off your shirt without jostling you too much and replacing it with your favorite cotton tee of his.
your boots fall to the side of the bed along with your skirt, and you're half asleep as he wipes off your makeup. time passes in a way you can't discern, only coming to a head when caleb finally settles in next to you and tugs you into his arms.
"can i hire your services every night?" you tease, slightly muffled by the way you're held against his chest. there's a light titter from him, but your joke doesn't seem to hold as much humor in his eyes.
"i wouldn't mind it," he quietly admits, nuzzling his forehead against yours and kissing the tip of your nose. "sometimes it feels like my baby apple is outgrowing me, even though i'll always be here to take care of you."
something about the way he says it makes a section of your heart ache more than usual. he'd wait endlessly for you, do anything you need if it meant you'd bare your honest self to him. it was a kind of devotion that left opportunity for resentment, yet you still find your greed unsatiated.
"what if i never need you again?" you wonder aloud, already aware of how it'll irritate him. you both know how much you love to push his buttons, just to see how much you really can get away with. he keeps letting you after all, so in reality it's his fault for this nasty habit.
his breathing is silent for too long to be comfortable. it's not until you tilt your head up to look at him where you see something dark and sticky in his eyes, something isn't quite your caleb but still looks convincing enough wearing his skin. there's a ghost of a smile when he replies, holding you so tight it feels like your ribs are fused with his own.
✮ sugardaddy! nanami wants you to earn your new chanel bag in a very special way !
"i really want it."
the office stayed dead quiet at night when you walked in without knocking, like you always did. you had only one goal — you needed that bag from the new chanel spring collection.
and now you sat in his office chair, perched right on top of him. his legs were spread wide, your back was pressed tight against his chest, and your legs were wide open on the armrests. when he spent the whole week making you drink more water, you naively thought he just cared about your health.
well, you were wrong.
he teased you, only rubbing his fingers over your already wet pussy, soaking up all the moisture but never going inside. he lifted his hand right to your face, slowly spreading his fingers, and you saw the thick, wet slime stretching between them. he slowly licked it off and let out a low, vibrating groan, throwing his head back.
"mmmh... then my girl's gotta ask better than that."
in the next second, he shoved his fingers into you all the way to the knuckles.
"nn-nghh! it's too much!" you whined, and your hips jerked up, trying to take him.
"this sweet pussy can't handle it, huh?" he chuckled softly against your neck. "too tight since daddy hasn't fucked you for a whole week?"
"hnggg..." you nodded aggressively, gasping. "p-please... daddy, ah!"
he laughed quietly, pinning your stomach with his other hand to hold you in place. "don't move, baby. you wanted that bag, right? tell me about it." his fingers worked inside with a heavy, wet squelch that echoed through the quiet office, and you were sure anyone left in the building heard you.
"i want it so bad..."
he started pressing against the front wall totally different than usual — he moved his fingers in a deep, insistent wave.
"come on, baby, tell daddy exactly what he's gotta buy for his girl."
you threw your head back helplessly on his shoulder, whimpering because of how hard and tight he filled you up. during the days he was away on business, you totally lost the feel of it, and now every move he made felt too intense, too strong, too fast.
"it's blue and... hnnngh! so good! ... and... checkered... and... h-nnnh! daddy, i feel somethin' weird!" a high, almost scared scream ripped out of your chest.
he just cranked up the speed, his other hand, which stayed on your stomach before, slid way down to your clit, starting teasingly rolling it between his fingers and then mashed it with his thumb, massaging and playing with it.
you tried to squeeze your thighs together, trying to shake that weird feeling that did not usually happen to you. "daddy, stop... i need to... mmnh! i can't... h-haah!"
but he only pressed his lips to your neck, kissing you. "you can, pretty girl. wreck my chair and my desk. i wanna remember the mess you left every time i sit here."
you shook your head aggressively, feeling a huge, invisible balloon inflating inside you. "haaa... it's too much, it's... nn-ngh-a-a-a!.. fuuckkkkk!"
it felt like a massive electric shock ripped through your body when a hot, clear wave burst out in a heavy stream, soaking everything around: his sleeves, his palms, the leather chair, and even the important files on the desk. he slowly pulled out his fingers and started smoothly stroking your folds, making the liquid splash in every direction. your hips jerked up on their own and your legs shook so bad that you could barely stay on him.
"mm-nng, so good..." you whimpered piteously and thinly, feeling every single cell of your body pulsing.
he continued softly stroking your stomach with one hand and the inside of your thighs with the other, waiting for your shaking to die down.
"my good girl, you did so well for me. now show me exactly which one you want."
✮ getting stuck in an elevator with two hot bosses who want you cannot be that bad, right? *pwp
"shit, we're gonna be here a while," nanami breathed out annoyed and loosened his tie after the dispatcher didn't answer again and the call button totally stopped working. your shift ended like three hours ago, but you were still there, typical you, obsessing over some report. the office was totally empty.
well, except for two department heads you were lucky enough to get stuck with in one cramped elevator.
the elevator felt way too small for three adults. you were basically squeezed between them and could feel the heat coming off their bodies. behind you was nanami's tall figure, and right in front of you — higuruma. both were a head taller than you, wider in the shoulders, and fucking hot.
i mean, it wasn't for nothing that you always wore short skirts even though the dress code said no, that you accidentally spilled coffee on higuruma's pants so you could apologize with bambi eyes and wipe a napkin near his cock. for months you played a dangerous game: you leaned over a little more than you should, showed off your chest when you sat across from him, brushed your shoulder against nanami's in the narrow hallway, and left documents on hiromi's desk that were soaked in your boldest perfume. you teased both of them at the same time, gave them hope, but always slipped away the second their stares got too heavy. a little flirting is fun, alright?
but right now you weren't having fun at all.
nanami slowly leaned in. his hot breath hit your ear, making you shiver. "you look spooked, sweetheart. you okay?" he said, and he sounded dangerously protective. "y-yeah, i'm fine," you gulped, trying not to look at him. "it's just super hot in here."
you noticed nanami lookedup at higuruma. for a while they just stared at each other in silence, and then this slow, knowing grin spread across both their faces. that look made your knees go weak. higuruma took his time taking off his jacket. he did it slow, eyes locked on yours, and tossed the expensive thing right on the dirty floor.
"what a shame," he said, rolling up his sleeves and showing off those strong forearms. "maybe we should talk about your behavior."
before you could get a single word out, nanami's heavy hands landed on your waist. he pulled you back, pressing you into his hard chest. "you've been waiting for this the whole time, haven't you?" he whispered into your hair. "teasing us so much."
"i... i have no idea what you're talking about," your voice shook, and your heart was thumping so loud they both definitely heard it. hiromi stepped even closer. his hands hit your thighs, bunching up your skirt. "oh, trust me, you know exactly what we're talking about."
they literally crushed you between them, and you felt the burning heat of their bodies. nanami grabbed your chin and pulled it up, forcing you to look at him. "i think it's time to teach you a lesson."
he didn't let you scream — his mouth covered yours in a demanding kiss. he kissed you deep, filling you up with himself, while hiromi went for your neck at the same time, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. your head started spinning and reality started to blur.
nanami pulled back from your lips for a second and then with one sharp, confident move he grabbed you by the waist. before you could even gasp, you were up in the air. he held you there, making your legs spread wide and hooking your knees over his arms. now you were basically hanging on him — your back pressed against his chest, and you were completely open in front of both of them.
your short skirt rode up to your waist, leaving you in just thin panties. nanami went back to your ear, nibbling on your lobe and cheek before sliding down to your neck. meanwhile, higuruma slowly unbuttoned your blouse, button by button, and as the fabric parted, he started biting your chest, making you arch in kento’s arms.
"wait— mmnh! hiromi..." you gasped, "there're cameras in the elevator... maybe we should go..."
"don't worry 'bout that, darling," nanami laughed low and soft, pressing his lips to your shoulder. "don't you worry your pretty little head."
hiromi finally threw your shirt open and slowly moved down with kisses toward your stomach. "just enjoy what we're gonna do now, okay?"
he got down on his knees, and you felt his hot breath scorch your delicate skin. he didn't rush. first, his lips barely brushed the inside of your thighs, leaving light, almost weightless kisses that sent an electric charge through your body. you felt nanami tighten his grip on your knees from behind, locking you in the air; you literally couldn't move.
"look how wet she is. perfect," hiromi rasped, looking at how the slick glistened on your already damp pussy. "you wanted this, didn't you? for us to see how much this little pussy leaks when it's needy?"
"n-nngh!... hiromi…" your moan drowned in the quiet hum of the elevator as he lifted two fingers and unceremoniously stretched your folds apart to fully expose you. at first, he just teased you with the tip of his tongue, short and wet strokes. you felt him lick away the drops, smacking his lips, savoring your taste.
"mmngh! haah! please…" you jerked in nanami’s arms, but he just held you tighter against his chest. "hold on, sweetie, we're just gettin' started," he whispered in your ear, and at that moment, he started to slowly rotate your hips in circular motions.
those circles made you literally rub against hiromi’s face. you felt the stubble on his chin, his nose pressing into your already swollen clit, and his tongue going right into your soaking pussy. wet, obscene sounds echoed in the cramped elevator.
"haah! more… nngh!" you weren't in control of your sounds anymore, gasping with pleasure. "oh yeah," hiromi growled, not pulling away for a second, "you're so sweet. i'm gonna lick you dry 'til you start beggin' us to stop."
his pace picked up. he went rougher now. hiromi didn't tease anymore. he took your clit between his lips and started sucking on it hungrily like he’d fuckin' die if he didn't.
"a-ah! hiromi! nngh-aa!" you screamed, throwing your head back on nanami’s shoulder while he kissed your cheek, holding you in place, and your cry echoed through the tight cabin.
hiromi’s tongue went deep between your stretched folds, licking everything inside, while the two fingers he’d managed to shove in kept roughly stretching you, opening every millimeter of your tender flesh for his mouth. loud, squelching sounds of your pussy and the wet sounds of his mouth filled the elevator.
"mmm, look what you're doin' to us," nanami kept rotating your pelvis, forcing you to grind even harder onto hiromi’s tongue. "you wanted this, didn't you? walkin' 'round in front of us in those skirts that show off your ass?"
"haah! mmngh… ahh! more… more!" you didn't even know what you were saying anymore. the man behind you didn't give you a second's break — his palm covered your mouth, muffling your next moan. "hiromi, please… mmmngh-ah!" you broke free from nanami’s hand, and your moans got louder. "yes! right there! ahh-h!"
nanami pulled his hand away from your face only to sink into your lips, catching your next whimper. "stick out your tongue, baby," he whispered, and you obeyed before you could even think. "come on."
as soon as you parted your mouth and the tip of your tongue peeked out, nanami let out a low growl and bit into your lips. he captured your tongue with his lips and started sucking on it, slow and greedy. "mmmmmfff!.. kento!... " you moaned right into his mouth, feeling your whole body tighten like a string.
nanami sucked your tongue rhythmically, like he owned it, making you gasp for air. meanwhile, higuruma, feeling your reaction, stretched your folds even wider and sucked on your clit with twice the force. "mmmngh... most perfect sweet pussy. gonna eat this little swollen clit up."
your sounds turned totally incoherent, becoming a solid stream of moans and ragged breaths mixed with whimpers. nanami pulled away from your tongue for a second, his whisper brushing right against your lips. "good girl. hear how loud you're bein' for us?"
your body was stretched to the limit, like a wire about to snap. nanami kept dominantly sucking your tongue, cutting off your oxygen and making you choke on your own moans while his hips rhythmically rotated your pelvis, grinding you into hiromi’s face. you thrashed convulsively in kento’s arms, feeling everything inside tighten into an unbearably hard, hot knot.
higuruma, feeling your orgasm coming, stretched your already swollen folds with his fingers until it almost hurt, and for the last time, sucked your clit in as deep as possible, licking it frantically. a loud, dominant squelching filled the cramped elevator.
"a-a-ah! kent— oh god, i'm gonna... mmmngh-a-a-a!" your scream broke into a rasp as the first wave of orgasm literally ripped through you.
you felt your muscles inside start to contract uncontrollably, pulsing hot wetness right onto hiromi’s face. you shuddered all over, your legs on nanami’s shoulders shaking with a fine tremor. kento pulled away from your tongue at that moment just to catch your wide-open mouth in a silent scream and greedily breathe in your orgasmic moan.
you gasped, your head falling onto nanami’s shoulder as white spots swam before your eyes. hiromi didn't stop even when you started twitching in convulsions. he kept greedily licking and sucking up your slick, which was now dripping down his chin and lips.
"hiromi, stop... ah... i can't anymore..." you went limp in kento’s arms, feelin' a heavy, leaden weakness spread through your body. you barely breathed, pressing your forehead against nanami’s shoulder. your body still shook with small, lingerin' tremors, and your head was a total vacuum. you were literally floating in the clouds after such a crushing orgasm, feeling like soft, pliable clay in their hands.
but the blissful silence didn't last long. nanami pulled back a bit to look at your face and took you by the chin, forcing your blurred gaze to focus on him.
"you think that’s it, darling?" his voice sounded scary calm and low. "you really think we're gonna let you come just once?"
your eyes widened. you tried to say something, but only a weak, ragged exhale escaped your throat. "what're you..."
hiromi slowly pulled away and got up from his knees. his lips glistened wetly, and there was a streak of your juices on his chin that he didn't even think about wipin' off. he looked down at you, fixing his shirt cuffs.
"that was just the start," he tossed out, and his voice vibrated in the tight cabin. you were still hangin' in nanami’s arms, legs shaking, and your mind was fading. "n-no... wait..." you tried to pull your thoughts together, "someone could walk in right now... the dispatcher... he might hear through the intercom..."
nanami just laughed low against your neck, and that sound made you shrink. he didn't let you go. instead, he shifted his grip to get comfortable and started to slowly, intentionally rub your aching, oversensitive cunt against his huge, rock-hard cock through the fabric of his pants.
"ah!" you sobbed, whimpering from the unbearable pleasure that bordered on torture. "nanami..." "we could just call the dispatcher again so help comes right now," kento whispered, keepin' up the methodical grind against you, squeezin' out new portions of wetness that now fell in heavy drops and dripped onto the elevator floor. your heels had been lyin' in the corner for a while now. "is that what you want? you want us to get pulled out of here right now?"
he didn't stop, and you felt his hardness throb, promisin' somethin' way bigger. at that moment, hiromi stepped in close. he cupped your face in his palms and sank into your lips with a deep, greedy kiss. you tasted yourself mixed with his hot spit — intimate, and crazy turning you on.
"m-m-m," he hummed into your mouth, pulling back only a millimeter. "is this what you want?" you should've said "yes." you should've screamed 'bout how they broke all the rules, how hierarchy was trashed, and how you're all gonna get fired in disgrace. you should've stopped this.
but you didn't. your first orgasm was so mind-blowing that all you could think about was the throbbing weight you felt with your ass through nanami’s clothes. you couldn't even dream of just one of them in your wildest fantasies, but getting both at once? that was the kind of extreme greed they write about in books.
“n-no…” you aggressively shook your head, completely forgetting you were in the damn elevator of an office building. your hands dug into higuruma’s shoulders on their own, and you started desperately, almost insanely grinding against the man behind you in every way possible, begging for more with your body alone.
hiromi gave a faint, barely noticeable smile without taking his eyes off you, watching the way you writhed in kento’s hands. “that’s what we thought. dirty girl… you spent months tempting your bosses just so they’d fuck you at the same time?”
you barely heard him. his words drowned in the rush of blood pounding in your ears, and you only nodded quickly, feverishly, agreeing with every word he said. “c’mon, baby,” nanami caught you with one hand, giving you more space, “use your hands. take my pants off.”
with trembling fingers, you reached behind you as much as the cramped space allowed and touched his cock through the fabric for the first time. nanami let out a low, rough groan and pushed himself into your palm, rolling his hips forward. you tried to feel more of him, but kento only tightened his grip on your waist.
“baby, i just had to sit there without getting to taste you. you’d better hurry up.” you frantically searched for his belt buckle, but your fingers wouldn’t cooperate. you couldn’t see what you were doing behind your back, and helpless little whines started slipping out of you.
“i-i can’t do it… kento, i can’t…” you sobbed, tears blurring your vision. nanami laughed quietly, enjoying your desperation. “what an impatient girl, huh?”
he jerked his hips sharply to help you, and finally you managed to undo the belt. then the button and zipper gave in too. his pants slipped down, and immediately, without waiting, you covered his cock with your hand over his boxers. nanami threw his head back, sucking in air through his teeth with a hiss. you moaned too — just the thought of him being inside you turned you into a melted, shapeless mess.
by then, hiromi already pulled his pants down slightly. you froze as you looked at him. his cock looked intimidating: long, heavy, veins standing out clearly along it, the tip already wet. exactly the one you imagined whenever you touched yourself.
you breathed heavily, your pussy still pulsing after your orgasm while your hands already pulled down the blond man’s boxers behind you. the second his cock came free, it pressed against your ass with a dull thud. you felt the heat of it against your skin.
nanami wrapped a hand around himself and slowly dragged the tip over your untouched back hole first. panic shot through you instantly, your voice turning high and almost frightened. “kento!.. please, kento…”
he immediately buried himself against your neck, kissing you greedily with his mouth open, leaving your skin wet and burning. “relax,” he whispered, his voice vibrating through your body. “we’re not going there… for now.”
you relaxed a little, but the realization crashed over you in another wave: that meant they were both going to fuck you. at the same time.
your thoughts didn’t even have time to form into words before higuruma stepped closer. he cupped your face, gently but firmly sucking on your lower lip before pulling away and looking directly into your eyes.
“if it hurts, just tell us, okay?” his voice sounded serious, almost gentle. “we won’t do anything that’ll hurt you. we’re here to give you what you’ve been begging for all this time. tell me you understand.”
you only nodded shakily, unable to force out a single word. “use your words, sweetheart,” nanami insisted, pressing his cock against your lower back. you swallowed hard, your voice rough from all the screaming and moaning. “i… i understand. yeah. please…”
nanami adjusted his grip on you more comfortably, one arm still holding your weight while the other slowly, carefully guided his cock. at first, he only teased you with it, dragging the tip through your folds, coating himself in all your slickness, practically soaking himself in your juices before finally giving one decisive thrust.
he pushed in slowly, giving you time to feel every inch of his impossible thickness. you cried out instantly and grabbed onto higuruma’s shoulders with a death grip. meanwhile, hiromi pressed himself flush against you, holding your hips steady and helping you keep your balance while his eyes tracked every shaky breath you took.
he really was huge. you felt him literally forcing your insides apart, pushing so deep that every experience you’d ever had before suddenly felt like some pathetic joke. your head fell back, your moans breaking apart into weak little whines.
“mmmngh! kento… haa-ah… hurts… no, feels good… god—!” you choked on the words as he filled you completely. “that’s it, sweetheart, take all of me,” nanami rasped, his voice vibrating through your body.
“you’re too big… kento, you’re too big…” “i know, baby,” he started moving inside you slowly, deeply, “it’ll feel better soon. just relax for me.”
while that happened, higuruma kissed his way down your neck to your chest, which already spilled out of your bra cups. he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking greedily while nanami kept thrusting into you from behind.
“fuck…” kento growled, picking up the pace. “knew you’d have a fucking heavenly pussy… she’s squeezing me so tight.” all you could do was whine and sob. “ah! mmngh!! feels so good… more… haaah!”
“yeah?” higuruma pulled away from your chest, his gaze turning sharp and hungry. “it’s about to feel even better.” nanami cupped your face with both hands, turned you toward him, and crashed his mouth against yours in a deep kiss. “take a breath,” he ordered right against your lips.
you were already completely fucked stupid from his cock and the heat of their bodies. the second you gasped for air, you felt another huge, hard shape starting to push into you. hiromi entered you from the front, and you practically whimpered into nanami’s kiss while your fingers dug into higuruma’s shirt hard enough to make the fabric strain.
the moment he fully pushed inside, stretching you beyond anything imaginable, you screamed so loudly it felt like your voice tore through the entire building. “oh god! god! fuck… fuck! a-ah-ahh!”
tears spilled from your eyes automatically from the shock and overwhelming fullness. nanami laughed low against your lips, licking away the salty wetness. “no god here, sweetheart. we’re the ones making you scream like that.”
both of them stayed still for a moment, letting your body adjust to the unbearable stretch. hiromi’s hand squeezed your breast possessively while nanami bit at your shoulder and every patch of exposed skin he could reach.
it felt like forever or maybe only a few seconds — you had no idea anymore. the only thing you knew was that you needed them. “more… want more… please…”
“our girl’s getting greedy, huh?” higuruma smirked while looking at your flushed face. “one cock isn’t enough anymore? now you always want two?” then they started moving. together. hard. rhythmic.
it felt like your pussy was about to split apart, your whole body turning into one shaking, dripping mess. you moaned and whimpered while they kept taking turns kissing you, your chin already soaked with spit, your face damp with sweat and their touches. saliva and slick ran down your neck and chest, and you were pretty sure there was already a puddle forming on the elevator floor beneath you.
their movements turned sharp and perfectly synchronized, and you felt them practically pounding you into the narrow space between them. nanami set a deep, animalistic pace from behind while hiromi matched every thrust from the front, forcing your body to stretch to its absolute limit. the cramped elevator filled with unbearable wet sounds: skin slapping against skin, heavy male growls, and your endless, choking moans mixed with the smell of all your arousal.
“ah! haaah… nngh! fuck, kento… romi… a-ahh!” you cried out when they bumped against each other inside you, trapping your womb between them.
“look at this fucking mess,” hiromi rasped without taking his eyes off the place where your bodies merged together. “you’re sucking us in so greedily. such a needy little hole for your bosses.”
nanami grabbed your hair, pulling your head back slightly so he could see your face twisted with pleasure. “hear those sounds, baby?” he slammed into you hard, and the elevator filled with a loud, filthy squelch. “that’s all you. you’re so fucking wet we’re practically drowning in you.”
“mmmngh! yes… more… ” you couldn’t even control the saliva dripping down your chin anymore, mixing with their sweat. your face stayed damp, your hair stuck to your forehead, and your eyes rolled back.
higuruma leaned forward and crashed his mouth against yours, swallowing your moan with his lips. his tongue moved just as aggressively as his cock while his hand kept squeezing your breast hard enough to hurt. when he finally pulled away, a thin string of saliva stretched between you before breaking against your neck.
hiromi tightened his grip on your thighs even more, lifting your hips so you stayed completely open for both of them. the elevator smelled heavy with sweat, bodies, and slick, and the only thing breaking the silence were the filthy sounds of their bodies slamming against your ass.
nanami slowly moved his hand down the front of your body. his fingers, soaked with your slick, found your clit. “look at this little thing,” he rasped, his voice vibrating through your spine. “look how swollen it is. you’re pulsing so much, sweetheart.”
he started playing with you, and the elevator filled with another wet, messy sound from his fingers moving against you. every touch sent a shock through your body.
“mmmngh! kento… ah!” you sobbed shakily as your thighs started trembling uncontrollably. “please… i wanna come… i’m gonna… mmhnm!!" “no,” he cut you off. he gave one deep, crushing thrust. “don’t even think about coming without permission.”
their pace grew even faster, turning into something raw and primal. nanami’s heavy thrusts from behind crashed against hiromi’s from the front. the mirror in the elevator completely fogged over now, thick drops of condensation sliding down it just like the sweat running along your back. you could barely breathe anymore, your moans dissolving into broken little whimpers.
“tell me,” nanami suddenly pinched your clit hard between his fingers, making your back arch violently as you screamed. “who does this sweet, greedy pussy belong to?”
“a-ahh! yours! only yours! always only yours!” you practically sobbed the words out, losing the last of your sanity from the overwhelming pleasure. “good girl,” hiromi whispered smoothly against your damp shoulder before kissing it. “such a good girl. keep taking us, baby.”
your pussy pulsed violently, burning from the friction and impossible fullness. every thrust from nanami and hiromi forced more slick out of you, thick drops falling onto the floor and adding to the puddle already spreading beneath your feet. you felt completely used, ruined, and unbelievably happy in exactly that role.
the tension inside you coiled into a tight, unbearable knot that was about to snap. from behind, nanami made one last, crushing thrust, driving into you to the very hilt with a loud, wet sound, while hiromi made a powerful lunge forward at the same time, pinning your uterus in a vise between the two of them.
at that moment, nanami pressed hard against your pulsing clit, and that was the final straw. you literally buckled in their arms. the elevator walls started to swim before your eyes, and a series of choking, ragged sobs ripped from your throat.
"mmmngh-a-a-a! god! god! i— aah!" you gasped, feeling the first wave of orgasm paralyze your legs. your pussy started to contract convulsively and rhythmically around them, trying to squeeze every last drop out. you felt every vein on their members, every movement that now felt a hundred times sharper. a frantic, wet squelching filled the tight cabin — it was your juices, forced out by their pressure, literally splashing onto the floor and mixing with sweat.
you felt everything inside flip. your stomach muscles cramped, you threw your head back aggressively, pressing the back of your skull into nanami’s shoulder, and you just stopped breathing for several long seconds. you were shaking so hard that hiromi had to grip your thighs in a death lock to keep you from sliding to the floor.
"yes, just like that," nanami growled, feeling your pussy literally suck him in. "cum on our cocks, our pretty girl." you could not answer. you only whimpered and shuddered in a long, agonizingly beautiful ecstasy. tears of happiness and shock rolled down your wet cheeks.
you were still shaking from the lingering waves when you felt the blonde’s breath grow heavy, turning into a muffled growl. "fuck, you are so tight...so perfect baby..." he rasped, driving into you one last time with such force that you felt his pulse at your very center.
hiromi, feeling your tremors and kento’s frantic rhythm, also stopped holding back. his movements became sharp, almost rough; he literally slammed you into nanami, wringing the last moans out of you.
for a moment, everything froze. you felt nanami shudder through his whole body, his fingers digging into your thighs until it hurt, and he poured into you in a hot, pulsing stream. almost at the same time, hiromi let out a low, guttural sound and also went still, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, giving all his tension to you.
"so good mmm..." you went totally limp in their arms, feeling the scalding heat of their seed spread inside you. a sharp, mechanical sound and a sudden jolt of the elevator under your feet made you all freeze.
"hello, elevator number four? we have recorded a stop; we are restarting the system now. is everything alright with you?"
୨୧ — Gojo's hands shake like he's eighteen again, gripping your hips with white knuckled desperation, "Fuck, fuck, fuck-" his vocabulary reduced to caveman like grunts when you're under him like this, years of experience apparently meaning jack shit when your legs wrap around his waist.
He's all stuttering rhythm and graceless hunger, like he forgot how bodies work. One second he's jackhammering into you with supernatural speed, the next he's frozen completely, forehead pressed to your collarbone, panting like he just ran a marathon because your warmth threatens to undo him entirely... "Jesus, you’re…" He breaks off with a choked laugh, hips jerking erratically. "Fuck, been too long since I- shit, do that thing again. With your tongue again, please. Right there."
His demand is adorably needy, punctuated by a sharp, sloppy thrust as you scrape your teeth against the tendon of his neck, just how he likes it~.
Everything about his technique is pure chaos. No finesse, just raw need and that stupid boyish grin even when he's buried deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick.
When you arch beneath him, a low moan tearing from your throat, your cunt clamps down hard around his cock. It’s a vice grip, a sudden, violent spasms that rippled through your entire body… Satoru’s eyes go wide, pupils blown. And for a moment, he forgets his name, yours, and any word that isn’t an expletive as you completely come undone.
It’s not just a flutter, not just a wetness, but a gush. Hot, sudden. A flood of your release soaking his entire cock, his balls, the thick thatch of white hair at his base. It rushes out of you in thick, uncontrollable waves, splattering onto his sheets beneath your ass with an audible wet splssh. The sound is obscene. Juices slicking his length, dripping down him, making his thrusts messy- obscenely wet.
"Did you just-? His voice is thick with pure awe, breathless. The stupid grin returns as he drives into that soaked cunt of yours, feeling the slick mess coating him. "Whoa! Youre like a little Squirtle." The ridiculous Pokémon joke tumbles out mid thrust… He’s so fucking pleased with himself, he almost fumbles his rhythm entirely,"Get it? 'Cause you just squir—"
"Satoru, I swear to God-" you gasp, but the protest is cut off as he angles his hips sharply, burying himself impossibly deeper.
"Yeah, yeah, less talking, more-"
The new angle hits that spongy spot inside you dead on, hard. A choked cry rips from you, followed instantly by another gush, soaking him further, the sheets beneath you now a dark, soaked circle.
But there’s something beautiful about how he fucks when he's like this- like he's afraid you'll disappear- like if he doesn't fill you up immediately you'll change your mind. Like he wants to leave a piece of himself with you, so you won't forget him.
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