maeve

this was all for you ♡

[sunbleachedmaeve]

LAY ME DOWN WHERE THE TREES BEND LOW

PUT ME DOWN WHERE THE GREENERY STINGS

eighteen ✧ she/her ✧ african american ✧ dilf lover ✧ jack’s fav resident ✧ daughter of cain

【 STATUS 】 ━ up reading x reader

current fixations — the Pitt

[reignpage]

For Extra Credit You Can Hit!!

Synopsis: Toji, the TA, won't bump up your latest essay a couple marks, not with just some begging at least, so you try a different method:

good ol' pussy persuasion

Warnings: toji art by @/youKa.i on insta, smut, porn with a lil plot, nerd!toji, a couple years older than reader but both students, reader harasses him but don't save him he's right where he wants to be, some comedy aspect, college au, non curse au, f!reader, blowjob under the desk, unethical behaviour, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, briefest choking, sex against the window, pússy inspection, belly bulging, overstimulation, spitting, a little fisting I guess or almost, Toji's poor so this is canon compliant jkjk, creampie and unprotected sex, brief pussyjob, size kink/difference, hidden sex, not proofread Word Count: 10.7k

“For the last time,” he drawls, “I’m not bumping you up a grade.”

You groan, pushing your legs to catch up to him faster.

“Come on, I need this. I’m not asking you to break the rules. All I want is for you to reread my essay and find extra marks, which you will!”

Toji Fushiguro is a tough nut to crack, though he doesn’t look it — one glance at him and one would think he’s a laidback TA. He’s the exact opposite; he takes his job a little too seriously. 

For days now, you’d been hounding him, pleading with him and degrading yourself all for him to ‘remark’ your last paper and ‘coincidentally’ find a few extra marks that would push you to the top performing spot you’d been eyeing since forever. Each time you rushed into his office, waited for him after his classes, and followed him to his apartment, he’d shrugged you off with the same ‘I don’t get paid enough for this’ look in his eyes. 

Rounding the corner, his long legs making no accommodations for your shorter ones, he says, “No. If you wanted better results, you should have put in a better performance. Surely you’re smart enough to work out that that’s how life works.”

Hands grab his arm, yanking back with all your strength only to be dragged along with him and his burly body. Your heels scrape along the floor. People stare. You don’t care. “Don’t be an asshole. You know my essay was good. It was really good. Just give it a read. A proper one, and not the rushed job you do because you’re overworked and underpaid.”

He stops.

Your face bumps into this back, forehead nearly bruised by the hardness. 

His brows rise above his glasses as he fixes you a look. “Kid, your essay was good — decent introduction, clear structure, sufficient evidence — but it’s not good enough for the extra marks to push you into the top band. Your closing argument fell flat ‘cause of your wishy-washy writing style, you didn’t adequately humour the counter arguments and undermine them to strengthen your thesis, and, worst of all, you misspelt ‘complement.’”

A frown graces your features. 

“No, I didn’t. C. O. M. P. L. I. M—”

“No. With an I, it’s to flatter someone. With an E, it’s to enhance, pair well, or complete another thing.” Toji explains rather robotically, eyes still dead and voice monotone. “For example, if I said you’re a pretty girl, that’s a compliment. And if I said, your essay goes well with the trashcan over there, that’s a statement that suggests the two complement each other. See the difference?”

He’s already stalking off again, hands in his pockets, huge stature unwilling to accommodate the people walking down the hallway. 

You break into a jog, panting embarrassingly by the time you reach him. “Dude, we’ve known each other for three years. We’ve gone through a lot together. We’re basically friends. Can’t you do your best pal a solid?”

Toji glances down at you. He pushes a door open, holding it a second longer than he needed to. You follow behind him. Somewhat amused, he replies, “We know each other because we’re on the same course, not by choice. And I don’t know what you mean by the whole ‘we’ve gone through a lot together’ thing — the most dramatic thing we’ve faced is when the projector didn’t work and we had to go into a different hall. And we’re definitely not friends.”

Well, fuck, you’re running out of rope. 

“Then, let’s officially be friends,” you offer, elbowing him gently. “If you ever need help, buddy, I’ll always have your back.” Then, in an act of complete desperation, you begin shakily singing, “You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me. When the road looks tough ahead—”

A heavy hand shoves you away by your head. You stumble into a bulletin board.

“Enough,” he gruffs. “My day’s already fucked because the prof lost his papers and wants to blame me. I don’t need to lose my hearing on top of that.”

Your head flits around. “Did you guys see that?” People give you weird looks. “He just shoved me. The TA just shoved me. We need to protest his violent behaviour by demanding he remarks our papers. Who’s with me?”

Everyone walks past without another look at you.

Toji, on the other hand, lifts his glasses and runs a hand down his face. Muttering something under his breath, he pushes a door open and holds out a hand before you can mindlessly follow. “It’s the men’s bathroom. Tell me you’re not shameless and stupid enough to come in here.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

His eye twitches. 

As though an idea comes to him, he straightens ever so slightly. “I’m gonna take a dump; you’ll be waiting a while.”

“That’s okay — I have no more classes so take your time but make sure you don’t stay sitting down longer than you need to,” you tell him, smiling innocently and standing aside to let a guy walk out, ignoring the freaked out face he makes at you. “You can get hemorrhoids."

He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman.” 

That seems to be as much of you he can tolerate because he walks in without another word to you. Opposite the door, you lean against the wall, whistling and coming up with alternative lines you can pull on him. 

God, he’s so stubborn. 

It’s not like giving you the marks docks his pay or lowers the professor’s opinion of him. He’s clearly just being an ass. 

If he wasn’t such a good TA, a genuinely intelligent man, you would have gone above his head and asked for the prof’s personal assessment. But no, he has to be knowledgeable, a helpful source of information when you’re lost, someone who seems to know everything about any topic, who knows the exact pages of a textbook you should read to further your understanding, and who’s never declined a meeting for clarification on something you wrote. 

For years now, you two have had a friendship-like relationship, often sharing snacks and exchanging brief words before or after lectures and classes, despite what he says.

Everyone gets along with him, though you’ve never actually seen him hang out with friends or go to parties. Maybe he doesn’t have any. Word on the street is he works part time in a couple different places. Some say so he can afford drugs, some for tuition. 

The rumours never interested you, apart from any that mused about his love life, which seems to be nonexistent except for the many girls who hit on him. Not that you’re especially interested.

It’s just fun to be in the know.

Who knows how long has passed since he went in there. Your phone says fifteen minutes. Is that a normal amount of time for someone to be taking a dump?

Hesitantly, you push the door open and yell out, “Fushiguro? You doing okay? Is it stuck? For a couple extra marks, I’ll give you a hand.”

No one replies. 

Brows furrowing, you bend down, looking through the stalls. No feet. What the hell?

Ahead, a window is ajar. Big enough for a man to squeeze through. Well isn’t that convenient? The kind of convenient that exists only in fiction.

Aggrieved and feeling bamboozled, you stomp back to your dorm room, slamming the door, jumping face down on the bed and screaming into the pillows. You’d feel better if you knew he had a grudge on you, if you bumped into him the first day and spilled his coffee all over himself and he’d never forgotten it. Instead, he’s just like that: does things by the book, does his job well, and achieves the best grades with ease. 

Naturally, he’d become the professor’s assistant, a coveted position that seemed like it was made for him from the very beginning, and made your life a living hell because he won’t ever make concessions for you.

Sure, you shouldn’t ask him to, but it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re generally a high performing student — punctual, hard working, ambitious — but you had one bad day which resulted in one bad essay and it lowered your average and now the internship you’d been eyeing could be snatched from your hands in a blink of an eye. 

“It’s just not fair,” you cry out to your teddy bear. “It’s three marks. Three! Would it kill him to reread my essay and find those three marks?”

Mr. Teddy stares back at you and says, “He’s a grumpy man. Don’t take it personally.”

You sit up, blinking and processing his reply.

“Teddy…you’re right. He is a grumpy man, a TA with broad shoulders, yummy arms, and thick thighs with a bubble butt, but a man nonetheless. If he won’t pull favours for me, student to student, maybe he’ll pull favours for me man to woman.”

The plushie falls to the bed as you stand, staring at yourself in the mirror and formulating a plan. 

With that you decide to seek him out the next day, sporting a new outfit and a different attitude.

.

.

.

“Hi.”

“Fuck off.”

The cafeteria’s busy. It always is. It’s loud enough that most people wouldn’t even hear the exchange — chairs banging on tile, trays clattering, someone laughing too loudly at a table nearby. 

Toji’s hunched slightly over a bowl of udon noodles, chopsticks moving lazily as he slurps them down. Some sports clip plays on his phone, propped against his dented metal water bottle. Commentators yell about something you don’t understand. His sleeves are pushed up over his forearms, revealing ropey muscle and the faint silvery line of an old scar running across his wrist.

An old hoodie hangs off his shoulders over a plain white T-shirt. Distressed jeans, worn sneakers. He’s too big for the plastic chair, long legs spread under the table. When he saw you approach, his feet had hooked onto the chair legs, forcing you to fight to remove it from his clutches so you could take a seat.

So damn rude.

His glasses have fogged slightly from the steam of the noodles.

He doesn’t look up. But he knows it’s you. You can tell by the way his mouth tightens for half a second before he goes back to eating.

You snatch his phone away. His green eyes flick up, annoyed. You smile, arms pushing your breasts together so they spill over your tight top. Toji’s gaze doesn’t waver. He continues to stare at you like you’re a pest. 

“You can’t take no for an answer?” he asks though it’s not a question at all. “Might want to retake the consent course.”

Manicured fingers walk up his bare forearm before scratching down from his elbow. His skin is warm. Light dusting of hair tickling your fingertips. “Oh, Toj, have I ever told you how handsome you are? Because you really are. You’re so damn hot I can hardly focus on the lectures.”

He snorts, still eating his noodles and still refusing to look at your cleavage. “That’ll explain why you’re missing marks.”

Jaw dropping, you force yourself to recover quickly. A heeled foot brushes against his calf, sliding his jeans up. You bat your lashes, sultrily saying, “The only thing I’m missing is your cock in me, big boy.”

Toji meets your eyes again. His scarred lips twitch. “I don’t need to tell you that was bad, do I?”

You cringe, foot dropping and whole body slumping back into the chair. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.” Then you sit up, handing him his phone, and asks, “Are the noodles good? I’ve never had them.”

Phone pocketed, he shrugs. “They’re just the cheapest deal on the menu. Growing girl like you should get something more filling.”

The menu’s extensive, and the only thing sticking out to you is the chicken burger and chicken tenders meal deal. It seems to be especially popular today but you’re not sure you can finish the whole thing. 

“Hey, if I get the Meal Super Cluck Blaster, will you share it with me? I’ve got dinner plans later so I don’t want to fill up.”

That finally gets a reaction. Toji leans back a little and gives you a slow once-over. Tight top. Lacy bra peeking up. Glossy lips. More jewellery than usual. His eyebrow lifts. “That why you’re dressed like a hooker?” he asks lazily. “Hot date?”

“Nah,” you reply, waving him off. “Wore this for yo— Wait.” You lean forward, staring at him wide eyed. “Are you jealous? Are you in love with me already? Because for extra marks, I’ll cancel my dinner plans and promise myself to you for all eternity.”

Toji rolls his eyes. “Go get something to eat; you sound insane.”

You hop up. “Okay, but stay there, alright? Take my burger because I only want the tenders. Oh, and will you share a pot of cheesecake with me? I’m lactose-intolerant but I really want cheesecake right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He’s still here when you come back. 

As soon as you hand him the wrapped up burger, he scarfs it down the way big men do, like they haven’t eaten in days. You push him the tenders too. You’d actually gotten a double serving of everything so you have your own portion of tenders and he gets to eat another burger. There’s no way a man his size could survive on udon noodles.

“Also, let’s not act like you didn’t leave me hanging outside the men’s bathroom yesterday,” you bring up after sipping your juice. “Can’t believe you left through the bathroom window just so you could get away from me.”

“I didn’t,” he says, mouth full and adjusting his glasses. 

You frown, dipping a piece of chicken in hot honey. “No, you definitely did. I peeked and there were no feet in any of the stalls. Unless you’re telling me you can grow invisible.”

“Just lifted my legs when I heard you come in, which I knew your crazy ass would do, so I could finally leave in peace. Didn’t think it’d take you fifteen minutes though.”

A laugh escapes you. “You were waiting me out? Does that sound like the mature thing to do? Jeez, you need to act your age.”

Toji’s eyes meet yours. Your smile falters for the briefest second. “I’m not that much older than you,” he reminds you. “Only by two years.”

“And yet you call me kid or kiddo,” you retort, clearing your throat. Have his eyes always been that green and deep? And is his voice usually that husky and masculine? Because you could have sworn guys your age don’t sound like that.

He shrugs again, second burger finished in a blink of an eye. “Never hurts to remind yourself.”

“Remind yourself what?”

The legs of his chair screech as he pushes it back. He stands, picking up his tray, and answers, “Forget about it. Enjoy your dinner plans. And I’m taking the cheesecake — no one wants a gassy date.”

“Wait,” you call out before he can turn away. “My marks?”

A pat on the head ruffles your hair. 

“Still a no, kid.”

.

.

.

“What if I suck your dick?”

Toji lifts his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade for another class; I don’t have time for you.”

The door shuts behind you. His office is bare, not a single decoration littering the place, not a plant nor a picture. 

His office is exactly how you remember it — disappointingly, aggressively empty. The walls are a dull institutional beige that makes the overhead fluorescent light feel even harsher. No posters. No photos. Not even a sad little plant struggling for life in the corner.

Just a desk. A filing cabinet. Two chairs that look like they were stolen from a waiting room. It’s the kind of office someone occupies temporarily, like he expects to leave at any moment and doesn’t see the point in settling in.

Leaning against the desk anyway, your fingers drum lazily along the edge.

You’ve been here before: once to argue about a paper he’d shredded with red ink, once because you’d missed an exam and needed him to sign a form, and once because you’d sworn you heard him swearing loud enough to be heard halfway down the hallway.

You grip his shoulder, squeezing as you scan the fat stack of papers on his desk — the prof’s particular about handwritten essays. There’s so much to read through; you do not want to be him. 

“God,” you mutter, flipping through a few pages of the stack. “There’s like fifty here.”

“Seventy-two,” Toji corrects without looking up. His handwriting is sharp and aggressive, red ink slashing through entire paragraphs like he’s committing academic murder. You wince in sympathy for whoever wrote the paper currently being dismantled.

“Good thing you can multitask, can’t you? I’ll suck your dick under the desk, you grade papers, and you bump me up a grade. Easy.”

He shrugs you off, hulking body hunched over and pen scratching on the papers, leaving harsh circles and comments like, ‘what the hell does this mean?’ and ‘you can’t just say perchance.’ 

Toji gruffs, “I’m serious. Take your jokes elsewhere.”

Nah, you think to yourself. 

With a massive struggle against his weight, you yank his chair back, wheeling him a distance from the desk and clambering under before he can fill the space again. He makes some noise above you but you pay him no mind. Your hands rest on his meaty thighs through his sweatpants, marvelling at the density, at the strength you find in them. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” His foot nudges your knee. “Get the fuck out. I’ll cropdust you if I have to.”

You call his bluff by clutching his clothed cock. He jolts, grunting. Laughing softly, you muse, “You say all that but you have a semi already — did my proposition get you hard, Toji?”

You’re rubbing his hard on, trying not to get flustered by how big he feels, and how fat the girth is. Of course he’s big. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been so surprised; he’s a big man so naturally the proportions will match up. 

“Suck my dick, don’t suck my dick, it doesn’t matter,” he says, sighing and probably pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not getting those marks.”

He thinks that’ll stave you off because he knows you’re whoring yourself out for a grade. What he doesn’t know is that your stupid little brain’s already forgotten about all of that the moment you felt his cock. Now all you can think about is how you’ll have to stretch your lips nice and wide to take him in, and even then, even when your throat is lax and loose, you won’t be able to take him to the base. 

Toji grunts again, peering down at you. “You mouthing at my dick? Did’ya not hear what I said?”

Like you’ve been possessed, you press kisses to where his tip is, humming around it. “I heard, but your dick’s saying other things to me, and I know which I prefer to listen to.”

“My dick’s not marking your paper, so get the fuck up,” he growls.

“Don’t wanna.”

“You’re fucking killing me here.”

A heavy hand bundles your hair up, pulling but you fight against it, hooking your fingers under the waistband and releasing him from the constraints. His boxers have a hole, and yet you only find it endearing. Freeing his cock so it bounces up and smacks your cheek, it leaves a wet mark on your skin. 

Tutting, he wipes away the wetness from your skin. 

Oh fuck, he really is big. 

With nothing between you and his dick, you can see him in all his glory in the partial shadow of under his desk — long, thick, flushed red, already shiny at the slit, veiny as hell, hairs at the base wild and unruly, with weighty balls to match. You’ve never seen anything better. 

Tongue out, you lick him from base to tip, prodding at his frenulum.

“Quit it,” he commands through gritted teeth. 

You moan wantonly, already addicted to the salt on his kin, to the texture of his veins, to the softness of his cockhead. “Toji, you’re so big. I don’t think this’ll fit inside me.”

The thing throbs, bobbing. A droplet oozes out and you quickly lick it up. The hand that was pulling your hair has grown slack, simply resting on the back of your head, keeping you from bumping the wood. 

Voice hoarse, he mutters, “If anyone can make it fit, it’ll be your stubborn ass.”

Your eyes meet his from under the desk, mischief sparkling in them you’re sure. His cock throbs again. “I thought you had papers to mark, Fushiguro. Maybe you should get on that, no?”

A calloused thumb presses down on your lips, shushing you. It slides down, bringing your bottom lip down with it, before releasing it so it’ll bounce back in place. That same thumb holds your jaw open, hand guiding your mouth to his tip. You know what he wants. You also know that he knows that you both know that you won this time. 

Wide as you can, you take as much of his length as possible. You don’t get much further than a third of the way, full beyond belief and overwhelmed by just how much of him there still is. Your nails dig into his thighs.

“If this is supposed to convince me to give you extra marks, then you’re failing real hard, doll,” he notes, gripping the base. “Can barely fit the head, can you?”

He’s acting like it’s your fault he’s so big. 

Challenged, you loosen your throat to take him an inch deeper. You gag around the length. Toji curses under his breath. “Careful,” he mutters. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You ignore him in favour of shallowly bobbing, sucking and licking what you can, as though he’s a lollipop. It’s actually kinda fun.

The familiar sound of pen scratching on paper and paper rubbing on paper echoes in the relatively quiet office. Only the wet sounds of your mouth sucking his cockhead pierces the silence. 

Growing more and more used to his size, you flick your tongue around the head, letting your hands wrap around the rest of him, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth. Occasionally, he makes a couple breathy noises — low grunts when your tongue laps up his tip, gravelly groans when you hollow your cheek to suck, and rough exhales through his nose when you grip his balls, massaging them, thumb rubbing the seam. 

It becomes easier to forget why you were here in the first place; you’re just blowing him for your own entertainment now, wanting something to occupy your throat. 

Then, he asks, as though he’s making casual conversation, “How was the date?”

“Hmm?”

Toji rolls his eyes. “The date,” he repeats. “How was it? He pay for the meal? Open doors, see you to your door, kiss you goodnight and shit?”

Your lips stretch into a smile. You release him with a pop! “I didn’t go on a date,” you tell him. “My friends hosted a housewarming party because they moved in together. I had a great time, thanks for asking.”

Is he pleased? Unaffected? Genuinely just making conversation? Hard to tell, except for the pushing of his hand, urging you back to his dick, and taking him further inside your throat, till his tip bumps the back of the gummy walls. 

“Good,” he exhales out, thighs flexing around your body. “That’s real good.”

“My blowjob skills or that I had a great time?” you ask, words muffled and barely understandable.

“Both,” he answers. “Both, doll.”

A knock on the door has you both stiffening. Toji glares down at you and whispers, “It’s the prof. Do not make a sound.”

He didn’t need to tell you that — you’re well aware that if you get caught, you’ll both face disciplinary action, and will likely be kicked out of the university. That’s worse than not getting the internship. 

The office falls quiet so suddenly you can hear the ticking of the wall clock. Toji’s hand tightens briefly against the desk as the knock comes again. “Come in,” he calls, voice steady.

The door opens before he even finishes the word.

“Ah, Fushiguro, there you are,” the professor says, stepping inside with a stack of papers tucked under one arm. “I wasn’t sure if you’d left already.”

From your position under the desk, you can only see shoes. Polished leather. Slow steps across the floor. You don’t slide his cock out of your throat, lest it makes a sloppy noise that’ll give you both away. So you breathe through your nose, being very, very quiet.

“No, I was just finishing up some grading,” Toji replies, cool as a cucumber.

His tone is annoyingly normal. Completely unbothered. He’s really convincing. Has he done this before? Is this a normal occurrence? Do a lot of girls offer to blow him for better marks, and does he take them up on it? Are you the one exception to his generosity? 

“Good, good.” Papers shuffle. A chair creaks as the professor sits across from the desk. “I actually wanted to ask about the research methods essays.”

Of course he did.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Toji shifts slightly above you — just enough that the movement brushes your shoulder — and then he leans back in his chair. “Yeah?” he says.

“I noticed something odd in the submissions this year,” the professor continues. “Half the class seems to misunderstand the section on sampling bias.”

He hums thoughtfully. “You mean where they’re supposed to explain the limitations of convenience sampling?”

“Exactly.”

A sheet of paper slides across the desk.

“You see this one here—”

From below, you hear Toji pick it up.

“—they describe the method correctly, but their conclusion contradicts their own analysis.”

There’s a pause whilst the TA reads. You stare at the underside of the desk and try not to shift your knees. God, this is like torture. Having a cock lodged in your throat and not being able to do anything with it is hell. Above the desk, they’re chatting away, talking about your fellow students, with the professor none the wiser that one such student’s under the desk. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “They’re treating correlation like it proves causation.”

“Precisely!” the professor says, sounding delighted. “It’s surprisingly common.” Another pause. You hear a pen tap the desk twice. “I was thinking next year we might restructure the lecture slightly,” the professor continues. “Maybe introduce a short case study before the assignment.”

“Could work,” Toji replies. “Give them something concrete, tangible, to analyse.”

Your legs are starting to cramp. Your lips tighten around his hot cock. Toji brushes your hair back from your face, a quiet act to show he hasn’t forgotten about you. The professor keeps talking, completely unaware.

“Also,” he says, shuffling more papers, “the literature review sections were stronger this year.”

“Mm.”

“I suspect the workshop helped.”

Toji lets out a quiet huff that might be agreement.

“You handled that well, by the way,” the professor adds. “The students seem to respond to your feedback.”

This is way too boring, you decide. In an act you might end up regretting for the rest of your life, your offended tongue prods his tip where he’s still leaking salty precum. 

He grunts, knee crashing up on the wood. 

The professor asks him if he’s alright, and Toji replies, “Fine. Sorry. Just had a cramp.”

A triumphant smile pulls at your lips, which is quickly wiped away by the sudden pinch at your cheek. You wince, unable to smack him in retaliation. 

A sigh fills the room. “I fear you work too hard, Fushiguro. You ought to take a break here and there. Do something fun and wild, or whatever it is people your age do nowadays.”

“I am having fun,” Toji says, hand coming back to rest on your head, growing heavier and heavier until you’re forced to take him inside your mouth, deeper and deeper. “In my own way.”

He’s filling you up more than he was before, now more insistent, no longer so passive. You’re struggling to take him but he’s not letting up. Fuck, you’re soaked between the legs. Who knew you had an oral fixation?

“Well, good,” the professor says. He pushes his chair back. Your heart jumps in joy. “I won’t keep you any longer, I know those papers won’t mark themselves. Boy do I not envy you.” He laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too, Professor.”

Footsteps move toward the door. The handle turns. The door opens. Closes. Silence. Two seconds pass.

Then Toji peers down, licking his scarred lips, and mutters under his breath, “You needy fucking girl. Couldn’t wait, could you? Couldn’t resist not being a pain my fucking ass. If you want cock so badly, then here you go.”

His hips thrust up, hand keeping you in place. Your eyes fly open, throat stretching to take all of him in. Oh, he was as pent up, as frustrated, as you were. The force in which he’s rutting inside your throat displays that nice and clear. 

“You’ll do anything for a good grade, won’t you? Even debase yourself like this. God, you drive me crazy.”

You gag around his cock but he doesn’t pay any mind to that. No, Toji’s just rutting inside your mouth over and over again, grunting louder and louder now. 

Meanwhile, your hand seeks out the heat between your legs. You grind against the heel of your palm, moaning around his length. The vibration has his balls tightening up.

“Fuck!”

Hot cum bursts inside, coating the walls of your throat and your tongue. 

Toji leans back in his chair, which creaks. You pull him out, coughing at the salty burn. Damn, even his loads are big. It’s like a cream puff exploded inside your mouth. 

Hands carry you up, sitting you on his thigh. One rubs your back in circles, the other wipes away the tears at your eyes, licking at the wetness he’s collected on his thumb. “You good, kid?” he asks, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah,” you respond, voice hoarse and not fooling anyone. “I’m good.”

You take a sip of his water from his water bottle, not caring about the fact that you’re drinking from where he had been, and if he cared that your mouth which had been sucking on his dick and cum is on his cup, he didn’t say.

He sighs, tucking himself back in and says, “Come by my place tonight. Hand me your essay again and I’ll reread it. But I’m not making any promises about finding extra marks, alright? It’s just a second chance, and the only one you’ll get.”

Dopily, you smile at him. “Throat game that good, huh?”

His lips twitch. He shoves you away, smacking your ass as you walk away.

“I’ll text you the time and place. Don’t be late.”

Nodding, you head for the door, not leaving however till you ask, “Should I wear matching underwear, or is this a strictly keep your clothes on meeting?”

“Fuck off before I regret it.”

“Lacy thong it is!”

.

.

.

“Should I spread my legs now or do you want me to fluff you first?”

Toji’s deadpan face meets you when he opens the door. He sighs as though he’s regretting this already. Regardless, he lets you in. 

You can tell he showered recently — there’s the scent of cheap soap lingering on his skin and his hair is still a little damp. 

His apartment is nice and clean, which surprises you somewhat. Most guys your age tend to be messy. But you should have known the TA would be neat and organised. 

“I’m serious,” you begin, snuggling up to his side and batting your lashes up at him, “what position do you want me? I’m not the most flexible but I’m not too bad.”

Shaking you off, he pushes you in the direction of the living room where the coffee table is covered with carefully laid out papers he no doubt carried from campus to continue working on. “Go sit down, you horny gremlin. Make some room for your essay and let’s get this over with.”

You do as he says, folding your legs so you can sit by the coffee table on the rug. You take the essay out of your bag, shoving all the others to the side. With a frown, you ask, “So we’re really not fucking?”

He folds himself down too, sitting beside you, knee brushing yours. “I don’t solicit sex in exchange for academic favours. Dunno why you’re so surprised by that — can’t recall having done anything to make you think otherwise.”

“Well, you did give in after I blew you, so…”

“I was gonna offer before you did all that,” he informs you, snorting. “Just never promised to give you the marks.”

Toji adjusts his glasses, taking your papers and starting his reassessment of it. His lips purses, brows furrows, and he stares at the thing like it could tell him the answers to the universe. That or it’s so bad he just can’t fathom what you were thinking. 

“Second paragraph, third line, why the hell is it so convoluted?” he asks, voice returning to that grumpy tone you’re more than familiar with now.

It’s the latter, it would seem. He really meant business. You shaved and everything for nothing. What a shame. 

Leaning over, you rest your head on his big bicep, and, with a pout, reply, “I thought it sounded smart; I was pretty proud of that line actually.”

“No, doll,” Toji says, sighing. “The simpler the better. Don’t purposefully complicate your syntax. Only do what’s necessary to get the point across. If I, an expert in this topic, can barely understand what you mean, how is the ordinary person supposed to?”

“Yeah, okay. Simple is better, I get it.”

He continues reading, red pen in hand and making annotations as he goes. Meanwhile, you’re worming your way into his lap: one hand resting on his thigh at first, then a leg thrown over his. He notices what you’re doing — there’s no way he doesn’t know — but he doesn’t put up a fight. Eventually, you’re sitting in his lap, his chin resting on your head, and his arms caging you in. 

Toji’s warm. He’s comfy to rest on despite all the muscles. Closer now, his soapy scent envelops you. It goes straight to your head. You find yourself squirming. 

“Keep still,” he reprimands, underlining a phrase twice for emphasis. “You can’t just use jargon if you’re not going to explain it. It’s bad practice.”

“Got it.” Fiddling with his spare hand, running your fingers down his and over his palm, you ask, “Are academics supposed to have calluses?”

“They bother you or something?”

“No, not at all. I’m just curious.”

He hums. “I do odd jobs here and there, some more manual than others so yeah I built up some calluses.” Without missing a beat, he pivots the topic. “Tell me again what the difference is between compliment and complement.”

You bring that hand up to your breast, imploring him to grope your tits as you reply, “With an I is to praise someone or something, and with an e is to say something matches well with another.”

A moan escapes your lips when he squeezes in approval. Toji mutters, “Good girl. Guess you do listen to me.” Thumb brushing your hardened nipple through the thin material of your top, you squirm in his lap. His lips move against the top of your head. “No bra?”

“I figured you were going to take it off me anyway so I didn’t bother,” you say, still pressing his hand to your tit, riding the motions of every grope and flick of your nipple. 

Another hum. 

Slowly, you guide that hand down lower. He must know what you’re doing, where you want it to end up, but he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t reprimand or put up any resistance; he’s curious to see how far you’re willing to go. And you’re curious to see how much restraint he has, how long he can hold out before his façade of nonchalance breaks and he’s fucking up inside you.

You tease yourself, and him, first — his fingers, with your guidance, tease your bare thighs, following the hem of your tight skirt. Growing breathless, you ask, “What kind of odd jobs do you do?”

Toji’s calluses tickle the sensitive skin in your inner thighs just right. He’s still marking your paper, occasionally fact-checking your ideas and his theories in a textbook on the table. Amused, he retorts, “You curious about me, doll?”

“Hmm, I want to know exactly whose cock will be stretching me out in a minute.”

He snorts, patting your clothed pussy. You jolt with every impact. “I tutor on the side. Fix up some cars in the garage in town. I’m a physical trainer for three clients at the local gym too. And when I’m low on money, I sell risqué pictures of myself. That disgust you?”

All while he answers, Toji’s blunt nails scrape your slit through your panties. He’s not applying much pressure at all, if any, and yet every skim, every travel up and down has goosebumps rising on your skin.

“N-no,” you answer quickly. “I think that’s really cool. If I had a body like yours, I’d take pictures all the time too.”

His laughter rumbles in his chest. An odd sense of pride warms your own. He says, “Your body’s more than good enough to sell too, you know. Don’t act like you don’t know guys give you double takes all the time, or that your ass could stop traffic.”

Giggling, you lean back, gazing up at him with a smile. “Do you stare at my ass sometimes, Toji?”

God, you’re soaked. You can tell, though you’re not embarrassed whatsoever. If anything, you’re just itching for him to pull your panties to the side and touch you skin to skin, to plunge inside your pussy and make a mess out of you.

“Tell me where you can, and should, insert a semi-colon in paragraph six, and I’ll give you an honest answer.” 

He nudges you with his chin. “Go on. Quit thinking with your pussy and give me the right answer.” A little aggrieved, you sit up straight, holding his wrist to keep his hand between your legs. Your eyes scan the section. Tentatively, you point to a full stop on the second line. Toji shakes his head and smacks your clothed pussy again. “Try again, and don’t guess.”

“Here,” you snarl, feeling way past pent up. “Now give me my reward.”

Toji huffs. “Semi-colons help for varying sentence structures. It’s in the little ways you can convey your points compellingly. Don’t underutilise the right punctuations.”

“Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. Rub my clit and answer my question already.”

Cool air brushes against your swollen, glistening lips. You sigh when his warm hand covers the entire slit barely a second later. His middle fingers are instantly coated in your wetness. He groans. “Fuck, doll, you’re dripping.” Toji doesn’t give you a moment to respond to that; his fingers rub at your throbbing clit in tight circles, drawing it out of his hood. You moan, back arching. 

Finally, he answers, “I stare at your ass all the fucking time after I glare at the losers whose eyes wander from their laptop screens . I’m a big, fucking hypocrite — that what you wanna hear?”

“Fuck yes!”

Rustling of paper reaches your ears. Then two hands are on you: one furiously rubbing the bundle of nerves and the other gripping your throat. He squeezes threateningly. Your vision spots, jaw dropping. “Look at you, all desperate to have my cock inside you. And for what? For a couple marks? You’re not ashamed?”

Your ass is grinding back on his boner, sandwiching the hard thing between your cheeks as your own answer. How could you be ashamed when he wants you so bad too?

“I’m horny! Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

In a split second, you find your world spinning. Your back falls on something hard. You’re staring up at the ceiling, papers scattered beneath you. Rough hands tug you down by your thighs. When you peer down, Toji’s staring up at you from between your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fucking you. You already knew I was gonna. You gonna let me taste your pussy first?” A challenging brow quirks up, like he’s waiting for you to push him away. 

Instead, your legs hook over his shoulders, ankles crossed. You grin at him.

Panties pulled to the side, his fingers spread your pussy for him. Those eyes scan every inch. He releases a shaky breath, cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing. “Even your pussy’s pretty. Fucking gorgeous.” Running a hand through his hair, he says, “You’re always such a pain, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help that every part of me’s pretty,” you reply, twirling your hair.

“Shut up and play with your tits — I like a show with my dinner.” Toji spits a fat dollop right on your clit. It slides down your slit but before it can disappear in the crevice of your ass, his tongue is collecting it and shoving it inside your cunt. 

You gasp. “Fuck, Toji!”

In spite of his aggressive tone, you pull down your top, letting your tits bounce out. Those eyes follow every jiggle. “Good girl,” he rasps. “Squeeze them for me nice and hard. Good. Real fucking good.”

His glasses are foggy now with your own humidity, rattling with every movement. He’s eating your pussy out like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything better, like he’s going to make sure not a single trace of you can be found in his apartment after he’s done with you. 

Growling, he spread your thighs wider. “Course you’ve got a sweet pussy,” he says, brows furrowing in what appears to be anger. “Course it’s sweeter than that fucking cheesecake. Course I’ll be craving you till I die.”

Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging for purchase. “Ngh, Toji, my clit…suck my clit!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Those scarred lips, the very ones you’ve stared at more times than you can count, wrap around your clit, sucking hard the way you did when you were blowing him under the desk. Electricity sparks inside, sending tremors up from your lower belly to your tits to the very tips of your fingers. “Oh fuck, that’s so good.”

Filthy squelches are being wrung out of you, and you know he’s doing it on purpose, addicted to how responsive your body is to him.

Two fingers worm their way through your pulsing hole, basking in the rough textures of your entrance, stretching your gummy walls on their way to curling against that spot that has you oozing more cum out. 

“You’re fucking tight,” he hisses. “You’re gonna struggle taking all of me later.” Then he barks a laugh, spare hand pressing down on your belly where the pressure builds up. Your toes curl. “A better man would take pity on you, go slow or wait another day, but I’ve already had my tongue inside your cunt so I’ll spare you the gentleman act.”

More fingers shove in, ignoring the screech that you let out. You’ve never had more than two and yet all four of his thicker, longer fingers are inside pushing your walls to their very limits. 

Despite that, he remarks, entertained by the shock on your face which he studies through his glasses, “Suck it up, buttercup — my cock’s thicker than this, you know that.”

You do. 

It’s all you’ve been thinking about all day. Hours after, your jaw’s still stretched out, sore and creaking after the workout you put it through. The thought of having something even thicker, longer than his four fingers has you growing dizzy, head handing over the coffee table.

“Yeah, my cock can’t wait to feel you too,” Toji says, not to you but to your pussy which is squelching lewdly and loudly. “Had to resist jerking my dick raw all day so you better make it good for me.”

Is it seconds later, or minutes, maybe hours, when you cum?

How ever long it is no one can deny it’s the strongest orgasm of your life. 

Your entire body trembles, spasming beyond control. Are you screaming or silently moaning? Are your eyes shut or have you gone blind? And is he still pistoning his fingers inside you, damn near pushing all of his hand in? 

“Stop,” you cry out. “No more, please!”

Mercifully, he yanks his hand out. Unfortunately, it leaves you feeling so empty you immediately crave the feeling of his hand gripping you from inside. 

Lips and chin glistening, he kisses both inner thighs, which tremble. 

Toji gathers you with one arm, showing off his strength as he carries you off the table and to the glass door which leads out to the balcony. It’s dark out and all you can see are the lights of people’s rooms in the apartment across. There are families lounging, dogs sleeping, TV’s blaring. 

Behind you, you hear the rustling of his shirt as he throws it off carelessly. Bare skin grazes your own soon after his hands make quick work of the clothes you’re still wearing. In a flash, you’re naked. He bends down to pick up your fallen panties, inhaling the gusset deeply. Your legs cross tightly at the deeply satisfied groan he lets out. 

“Next office hour,” he starts, lazily spreading your pussy lips and smearing your juices around so he can listen to the squelches and keep your squirming, “you better leave your panties with me. Consider it payment.”

You laugh. “Sure.”

Groggily, you try to keep your head up, wondering what you’re doing by the window, still a little out of it. A hand clutches your jaw, aiding you. 

“I’m gonna fuck you against this window,” he announces, leaving no room for arguments. “You want those extra marks? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock like a champ.”

Ass gyrating back against the hot, heavy thing still confined in sweatpants, you wonder, “Do you have an exhibitionism kink?”

He lets go of you. You have to catch yourself by pressing your palms to the cold glass. Toji drags your hips back, foot kicking your legs apart. His cock plops onto your ass, scalding. “No, I have a ‘get my time’s worth from shameless women who waste my time with demands for better grades by humiliating them’ kink.”

“Sounds long. We should get that shortened,” you drawl.

His cockhead slides through your pussy, coating itself in your wetness. The fat thing bumps against your clit. You shudder. 

Satisfied with your natural lubrication, he prods your entrance. “Yeah, we should. Let’s call it, Shut The Fuck Up And Take It.”

Then he enters you in one go.

You scream.

The window fogs up with your breath. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

You’re taking so much of his length so quickly that it should be painful. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of pain, not one you didn’t like at least — only the overwhelming pleasure of being filled up is resonating. 

Toji grunts. “Almost had to fist this cunt and you’re -hah fuck- still too tight.”

Pummelling his cock in, his hips don’t pause for a second. You gasp for breath, palms slipping and sliding on the condensation that’s built up on the glass. It’s like you can feel him in your lungs, so impossibly deep, so hot, so intimidating. 

“God, it should be a crime to have a body like this,” he says, hands groping every part of your flesh he can reach. He slaps your ass to watch it jiggle for him. He’s an ass man, that much is clear.

The force of his thrusting has you pushed closer to the glass, so close now that almost your entire front is flush with the surface. The coldness grazes your nipples. You moan. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

He tugs you back to him, body sliding down the glass till your ass is jutted out. Toji carries your hips up so you can reach him, but it means your toes are only brushing the floor. You cling to the glass door as much as you can. Through the glossy haze, you see the marks you left on the glass, from the oils and sweat on your skin. You see the outline of your tits, all round and fat, the handprints you left and the smearing of them all over the place because you couldn’t grapple with one position to have them in. 

Are people watching? Are you flashing a poor old man, are you reigniting a sexual appetite in a pitiful divorcee, making a housewife jealous, creating fantasies for some guy your age? Are people rubbing one out to the flashes of ecstasy on your face, to the swaying of your tits, to the rippling of your ass?

Toji’s fingers creep under you, furiously teasing your clit. You whine. “I think I’m gonna cum again.”

“Go on, gorgeous,” he rasps. “Lemme feel you cum around my cock. Make my dreams come true.”

Two fingers gather the cream that’s formed a ring at his base. He draws three letters on the glass for you to stare at. It spells out c u m.

God, he’s dirty.

Another orgasm ripples through you. Your thighs shake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Toji!”

He growls out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, threatening to bruise, “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum early.”

Without waiting for you to come down from your high, he flips you around. Your back thuds against the door. His cock reenters you in a clean, easy slide, cunt beyond soaked and stretched out. Your arms and legs wrap around him. 

Those glasses of him have fogged up so thickly now that they fail to serve their purpose. Toji takes it off with one hand, sliding it onto your head, like a headband keeping your face clear of your hair. “Don’t let them fall,” he orders. “They break and you won’t be getting that internship.”

And his lips?

They smack against yours.

He kisses you, all tongue and teeth and drool dripping down chins, like he’s been waiting weeks, months, perhaps years to do that. And you kiss him back just the same. 

Inside you, his cock throbs. Toji’s hips swing back and forth, pelvis grinding on yours, rubbing your clit and wringing our more obscene squeeeelches. 

“Oh god, I’m so full, Toji. You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re -hngh- t-taking me so well,” he praises, littering sloppy kisses all over your face and neck all while he pinches and rolls your nipples. “Moaning so adorably, all pretty and finally keeping this mouth quiet of smartass comments. You should be like this all the time.”

The rocking of his cock inside you is even better like this. The closeness, the warmth, the taste of him — you wonder why you waited so long to do this. 

Tits squashed to his chest, your nipples scrape his skin, slipping and sliding with the sweat beading down your bodies. The hard planes of his chest feel magnificent. Nothing about his muscles are for vanity only, and the knowledge of the strength he’s holding back has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“You’d miss my smartass comments,” you tell him, head thrown back and hips working their way down on his cock of their own volition.

Toji groans against your neck, licking droplets of sweat. “Yeah, maybe. I definitely wouldn’t miss your spelling errors though.”

Smiling, you tug his head up by his hair, and bite his bottom lip. You pull and let go so it’ll snap back into place like he’d done with your lip when you were under his desk. “Maybe if you taught me like this, I wouldn’t -hah- make so m-many mistakes— deeper, Toji! Fuck me deeper.”

His hips plough deeper inside, like you wanted, hitting that spot inside you till you’re sure it’ll be bruised in the morning. Moans after moans are fucked out of you; his neighbours will give him an earful tomorrow, you’re certain. 

“Book more office hours just to see me and not because you want something from me, then we can see if I can fuck your stupidity out of you,” he retorts. 

You peck his lips. “Aw, does poor, needy Toji want me to give him more attention? Does he miss me when I’m not there? What a cute little baby.”

“Yeah, he does, actually,” he says, smirking. “That a problem?”

“It will be if you don’t make me cum.”

Toji reminds you, “You’ve been cumming around my cock this entire time; you still want more? Greedy girl.”

He pulls away from the window, stalking over to the sofa instead. Each step burrows him deeper inside you, kissing your cervix and pushing out gasps from your lips, all of which he swallows. 

Carelessly, he throws you on the sofa. You bounce with an oomph!

Ankles held by one hand, he keeps your legs upright, hips lifted up to meet his. Toji presses a kiss to your ankle bone before he pushes his cock back inside. Your back arches with a mewl. Like this, his huge body becomes even more glaring — he’s casting a shadow over you, completely dwarfing you, reminding you how easily he could break you, how he could take whatever he wants from you. 

Every time he buries himself to the hilt, a bulge pops through your tummy, right under your belly button. 

“Look at that,” he mutters, brushing a thumb over it. You whine. “Feel me deep inside you? You’ll be feeling me inside for days, won’t you? Once it starts to fade, you can always come back for another fill, you know.”

“Promise?” you ask, grinning ear to ear. 

Toji pulls out, leaving just his tip before he slams back in, jostling you down on the sofa. His abs contract, cock throbbing at the sudden clenching of your walls around him. “Fuck, yes, doll. Promise. I fucking promise.”

His glasses have slid off, rattling somewhere on the sofa with the impact of every thrust. He doesn’t seem to care about them anymore. You’re nearing another orgasm, head whipping around at the intensity of the pressure building in your core. He’s bullying his cock relentlessly in your cunt, chasing after his own high and sending you to yours. 

When your eyes clash with his piercing, green ones, unobstructed by his glasses, you explode with a scream. 

“F-fuck,” he grunts, following soon after. 

Searing cum spurts inside you, cock pulsing, cum painting your walls. His thumb rubs your clit, aiding you through your orgasm. Your moans are vibrating against the walls, definitely disturbing his neighbours, but so are his groans. 

He slumps over, rolling the two of you on the sofa so you’re resting naked on his heated body, his heavy arm preventing you from falling off. Your pussy’s sore, a mix of your cum and his dribbling out and creating a sticky mess on your inner thighs. 

Absentmindedly, as you both catch your breath, he rubs your back. You draw shapes and letters on his chest. Toji combs his hair off of his forehead, chest rising up and down with his breathing. The dirty marks you two left are still on the glass, though it’s no longer foggy. 

Reaching up above him, he gracefully finds his glasses, sliding them on his face. You like him with and without them. 

“So,” you begin, “about those extra marks.”

Toji lifts his glasses up to rub a hand down his face. “Jesus, yes, you’ll get the marks.”

“Thanks!” you chirp. 

“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”

.

.

.

“Fuck, Toji,” you moan. “I already came three times. It’s too -hic- too much.”

Your TA ruts his cock inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck. His glasses are on your nose bridge, blurring your vision; he gets so frustrated when the thing gets in the way of kissing you or eating you out.

“Shut up,” he rasps, hand pressing down on your lower belly so you can feel him even more. “You’re the one who dragged me here. Take every orgasm I give you and be grateful.”

That’s true — you were supposed to have an office hour with him, which is really an excuse to see your boyfriend before you have to attend the internship induction session, but then you took one look at him and his amazing body and started soaking through your panties so here you two are.

Oh yes, you did say boyfriend.

After he blew your mind out, you’d been visiting his apartment after classes so often, you were practically living there, and he didn’t mind. It started out casual, but after realising you two would go grocery shopping, watch movies together, and text each other practically every day, you decided to just seal the deal and make it official. 

In short, he fucks good, and he can tolerate your personality, so you two stuck together. 

A month in, neither of you are really regretting it. At least, if his desperate thrusting and sloppy kisses to your neck’s anything to go by. 

“Missed you so much, Toji,” you whine, hips fucking back into him.

Toji groans, hand groping your tit from under your shit. “Yeah, baby?”

“Mmm.”

“Missed you too,” he confesses, licking a stripe up your neck and scraping his teeth down. Goosebumps rise on your arms. “Been wanting to see you all morning.”

You giggle, holding onto the stall for purchase and so his thrusting won’t make you smack face first onto the door. “You’re so cute w-when you’re needy.”

“Fuck off,” he says with no real heat to his words. 

In the near distance, the door to the men’s toilets opens with a dull metallic creak, the sound echoing faintly off the tiled walls. Feet pad in—slow, unhurried. The steady rhythm of someone who expects the place to be empty.

“Fushiguro?” a voice calls out. “You in here?”

The two of you go very, very still. Toji’s entire body stiffens behind you, muscles locking. His hand clamps firmly over your mouth for extra measure, warm palm pressing tight enough that you can feel the tension in his fingers.

Your heart slams against your ribs, loud enough that you’re half convinced it might echo under the stall. What the hell is the professor doing here?

“Susan told me she saw you walk in this direction. You got a minute?”

Toji releases a tense breath through his nose, annoyed at the interruption but left with no choice but to answer. He lifts you up so your feet hang over the floor and won’t be seen by the outsider. “Yeah, prof. But I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

The professor laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. I do apologise for interrupting you. I was just locked out of my account and can’t send emails for the next hour. You know how terrible I am with technology.” He enters the stall next door. He unzips his pants. You cringe. “I only wanted to ask if you’re prepared to host the internship induction later.”

You go still, this time for a different reason. 

Your boyfriend releases your mouth. Fingers creep over to between your legs, where you’re still connected to him, where he’s still throbbing inside you. He slowly rubs your clit, keeping you from squirming in complaint with his strong arms. Toji responds, “Yeah, got all my notes ready.”

The bastard’s trying to distract you…

“Ah good, good,” the older man joyfully responds. His stream hits the water, and you fight the urge to face palm. “I had a look over the plans and the schedule. Very well organised, I must say. The competition was fierce, which is a testament to the success of the event, so props to you.”

Do men hold conversation so casually in the toilets?

Toji carefully begins moving in slow and shallow thrusts, prodding your g-spot over and over with his fat cockhead. You bite your lips to keep from moaning. Your nails dig into his thick arm. He ignores you. 

“Don’t mention it, Professor.”

The man zips himself back up and flushes, exiting the stall. Outside, the tap runs, and you’re both still as quiet as rocks, afraid that any sudden movement will out you both as sexual deviants. 

He adds, “Oh, and thank you for handling the applications for me; you know I hate all that paperwork nonsense.” 

Your jaw drops. 

Beyond tense, Toji replies like he’s aware of the weight every word exchange carries, “I do what I can do to help out.” 

“I couldn’t do what I do without you,” the professor continues, sincere and ignorant to the fact that you’re there. The rustling of paper towels echoes. “Well, I’ll see you later. Apologies again for interrupting.” 

The exit door swings open and you relax, but then his voice fills the space again. 

“Do say hello to your pretty, little girlfriend for me.” 

Your heart? 

Drops to the fucking floor.

Toji’s grip on you tightens just slightly, barely noticeable unless you’re pressed this close to him.

Your mind races. Did he see you come in? Did someone tell him? Did Susan, whoever the hell she is—

Toji speaks before you can spiral further, his tone sharper now, suspicion threading through it. “What do you mean, Professor?”

“Oh, you know, the girl you’ve been eyeing for a while now — she’s on the internship, yes?” Then he laughs the kind of laughter old men do, all paternal and wise. “Don’t worry, son, I’m not accusing you of pulling strings; I know she’s a very intelligent young woman. Ambitious too. Almost as ambitious as you. I hope you two work something out.”

Your heart slows its beating but you’re not any less tense. 

Sighing, Toji responds, “I’ll let you know if we do.”

“Yes, yes,” the professor says before he leaves for good. 

Finally, it’s just you two in the men’s toilets again. The silence and emptiness is maddeningly relieving. Although, you’re seething, practically vibrating with accusations and anger.  

Toji lets you down. Your feet touch the ground again. You pull him out, whirling on him with a disbelieving glare. You snatch his glasses off your face with one hand and smack his chest with the other. The man doesn’t budge.

“You sneaky piece of shit!”

He gathers both of your wrists with one hand, rolling his eyes. Toji takes his glasses from you and slides it on his face. Seeing you clearer now, he guides his cock back to your pussy, re-entering with ease. You moan, allowing him to hike your leg over his hip so he can press in deeper.

Kissing your lips, he mutters against your lips, “I did what I had to to get your attention. Sue me.”

“God, you’re the worst,” you breathe out, chest jutting out to his, nipples aching and clit throbbing. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I’m the big, bad wolf, and you’re creaming all over my dick right now. Let’s not act like you got the short end of the stick here.”

“Master manipulator,” you hiss, kissing him back, fingers tangling in his hair as soon he lets go of your wrists to grope your tit and ass.

“Whore,” he fires back.

Then the two of you smile, clutching each other tightly as you both rock into each other, nearing your mutual orgasm and riding the pleasure growing in your bodies. Fuck, he feels so good.

“We’re gonna be together forever and ever, aren’t we?” you ask.

Toji’s scar brushes your forehead with his kiss. 

“That’s the plan.”

[sugarverse]

“you have got to be quieter.” you hear your boyfriend groan behind you, covering a hand over your mouth.

he had you on all fours, eyes rolled back into your skull and he wanted you to shut up??

you whine, moving against him desperately. he always wanted to say something about your volume right before you finished. he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance, sliding a finger in your mouth for you to suck on, drooling against his hand. You try as hard as you can to shut up, hiding your face in your arms as you lean against the table. 

it was getting incredibly too stressful with exams coming up. the air was more chaotic and more negative, people grouped everywhere. Even the library was pretty packed.. except for the 7th floor. The elevator was much too slow for most students to wait past floor four. Finals week, of course, had to be an exception because the first few floors were packed. The 6th floor had a handful of people, the music rooms on the 7th floor is probably the best option for studying at this point. Especially when they have private music rooms to study in.

“We'll just have to work on it, yeah?” He asked, propping a leg up onto the chair next to him to hold the arch in your back with his arm. He rutted into you, grunting in your ear before slamming into you so hard the desk began to rattle. Talk about noise..

You can feel your eyes prick with tears of pleasure, biting onto your sleeve and trying to keep down like he asked. You whined and whimpered into your arms, gripping onto the desk so hard your knuckles turned white. It was genuinely getting to the point that your vision was getting blurry. You came against him with a shaking sigh, feeling him pull out slowly.

“Turn over, I wanna see that pretty face..” He helped you turn onto your back gently, laying against the cold table as he realigned himself with your desperate cunt. He lifted your legs up, pulling them to his chest and resting your ankles on his shoulders. You could feel your slick dripping onto the table, watching him kiss your calf gently before shoving into you once more.

Your hands fly to cover your mouth, feeling him hug your legs together around his head. You knew you were being bitchy earlier, but you didn’t think he was this mad. You whimper, legs beginning to shake as he leaned forward to shove you into a mating press. You really never knew when you pushed his buttons too far, but to keep riling him up all week without relief then moving when he wanted a kiss must have overloaded him.

“B-baaaabe!” you moan out, biting into his shoulder and shoving your hands under his shirt to tear his back apart. He grips the desk for support, laughing in your face about how quick he can make you a mess. He sucks a breath in, flinching at your nails and biting into your shoulder in return.

“Next time I’ll just stop wherever we are. Bend that ass over. And let everyone see you can’t go five seconds without. my. dick.” He slammed harder with each punctuation.

You whined and whimpered, drooling against his skin. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take him like this. You dig your nails into his back repeatedly, cumming against him as shaky moans left your mouth. He slammed into you a final time, pulling out and finishing on your bra. You sigh heavily, smiling up at him as you watched him scramble to find something to clean you off with.

[jinxispunk]

lovers lake

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: A hot day at Lovers Lake turns into exactly what the rest of the gang feared: Steve Harrington being completely incapable of keeping his hands off you for seven straight hours.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, fluff, mild suggestiveness (lmk if i missed anything)

W/C: 1.8k

A/N: The weather has been so awful recently where I am so I'm choosing to live vicariously through sunny hot weather fanfics :D

Steve is instantly in trouble the second you step out of the car.

Like his brain physically stalls for a second while you push the passenger door shut with your hip and pull your sunglasses down slightly to squint against the sunlight reflecting off Lovers Lake.

It’s July-hot already. The kind of heat that sticks to your skin immediately, heavy and golden and lazy. Cicadas drone somewhere in the trees while Max and Lucas immediately start arguing over who forgot the portable speaker before either of them have fully closed the boot.

You, meanwhile, are standing there in little denim shorts and a bikini top beneath one of Steve’s old button-ups hanging open over your shoulders.

And Steve?

Steve is absolutely fucking doomed.

“Oh, you are NOT surviving today,” Robin says immediately beside him.

Steve blinks slowly. “What?”

Robin snorts and shoulders past him toward the picnic bags. “Your face.”

“My face is normal.”

“You looked at her like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle.”

Steve looks offended. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Across the car park, you glance over at them, pushing sunglasses up into your hair.

Your whole expression softens when you see him.

There it is.

That smile.

Warm and easy and automatic in a way that still kind of wrecks him.

Steve feels himself visibly melt.

Robin watches it happen in real time.

“Oh my god,” she mutters. “Painful.”

By the time everyone’s dragged coolers and towels down toward the lake, the entire place already feels alive with summer.

Music drifts from somewhere further down the shoreline. Water glitters beautifully under the afternoon sun. The wooden dock creaks beneath Dustin and Mike, immediately trying to shove each other into the lake while Nancy yells half-heartedly at them to stop being idiots before they break something.

Jonathan’s already taking photos.

Of course he is.

Mostly candid ones. Max laughing with her feet dangling off the dock. Robin dramatically collapsing onto a towel like she’s survived a war. Lucas trying and failing to throw a frisbee one-handed.

And, increasingly, Steve looking at you when he thinks nobody notices.

Unfortunately for him, everybody notices.

You’re digging through one of the coolers when Steve appears behind you seemingly out of nowhere, sliding both hands around your waist.

“Hi,” he says directly against your shoulder.

You laugh softly without even looking surprised anymore. “Hi.”

“You disappeared.”

“I walked like ten feet away.”

“Exactly.”

You grin while leaning back into his chest automatically.

God. Steve could live inside moments like this.

Warm skin beneath his hands. The smell of lake water and sunscreen and shampoo drifting from your hair. Your body relaxing into his without hesitation, like being close to him is muscle memory now.

It still gets him every single time.

“You gonna help me carry stuff?” you ask.

Steve nods immediately. “Absolutely.”

A beat.

Then, “…what stuff?”

You laugh properly then, bright enough that Steve feels it somewhere directly in his ribs.

Dustin gags loudly from the dock.

“Oh my god, you two are unbearable.”

Steve doesn’t even look away from you when he flips him off.

The water’s freezing.

Not properly freezing.

Just cold enough that everyone spends five straight minutes pretending they’re absolutely about to die while climbing in.

Robin shrieks loud enough to scare birds out of nearby trees.

“This is HORRIBLE.”

“You literally suggested swimming,” Nancy points out.

“I was wrong!”

Steve’s standing knee-deep in the water beside the dock when you finally wade in after everybody else, hands instinctively lifting toward you the second you stumble slightly over a submerged rock.

“Careful,” he says immediately.

You snort softly. “I’m okay.”

“Still.”

His hand settles automatically against your waist anyway.

The lake reaches just above his hips now, sunlight catching gold-brown through damp hair curling around his forehead. His stupid little sleeveless shirt lasted maybe fifteen minutes before he peeled it off complaining about the heat, leaving him unfairly pretty standing there all sun-warmed and broad-shouldered in the middle of Lovers Lake.

You’re not exactly unaffected yourself.

Unfortunately, Robin notices that too.

“Oh my GOD,” she yells from nearby. “Now she’s doing it too!”

You blink innocently. “Doing what?”

“The staring thing!”

Steve looks delighted immediately.

“You stare at me?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Robin groans.

Too late.

Steve’s grin turns positively unbearable.

“You think I’m pretty?”

You shove lake water directly into his face.

The sunscreen incident starts because Steve cannot behave normally for even thirty consecutive minutes.

You’re sitting between his legs on a towel near the waterline while he helps rub sunscreen onto your shoulders.

At least, that’s what’s supposed to be happening.

Instead, his hands have been resting suspiciously still against your waist for the last twenty seconds while he kisses slowly along the curve of your shoulder.

“Steve.”

“Hm?”

“You stopped applying sunscreen.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

Steve presses another distracted kiss beneath your ear.

“You smell good.”

You laugh softly. “That is not sunscreen.”

“Could be.”

“It’s literally coconut shampoo.”

“Still counts.”

Behind you, Robin makes the loudest suffering noise imaginable.

“I’m going into the lake and never coming back.”

“Can you drown quietly?” Steve asks absentmindedly, still focused entirely on you.

Robin throws a packet of crisps at the back of his head.

You’re laughing too hard to stay upright properly now, leaning back against Steve’s chest while he finally resumes rubbing sunscreen over your shoulders.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

Mostly because he keeps getting distracted touching you.

His fingers drag warm circles against your skin while sunlight flashes across the water ahead of you. Somewhere down the shoreline Lucas trying to convince Mike to attempt a running backflip off the dock while Max loudly explains why that’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

Everything feels loud and happy and bright around the edges.

Steve kisses the top of your shoulder again.

Then pauses.

“…you’re getting freckles.”

You glance back slightly. “What?”

“Right here.” His thumb brushes lightly across your shoulder blade. “Tiny little freckles.”

Something about the softness in his voice makes your chest ache.

God.

You’re so gone for him it’s embarrassing.

“You’re staring again,” you murmur.

Steve doesn’t even deny it this time.

“Yeah.”

Dustin makes another fake vomiting sound somewhere behind you.

Neither of you acknowledge it.

By late afternoon, everybody’s slightly sun-drunk.

The kind of tiredness that only comes from hours of swimming and heat and too much laughing.

Lucas and Max are sprawled across towels sharing crisps. Nancy’s finally managed to start reading uninterrupted while Jonathan lies beside her taking absentminded photographs of tree branches overhead.

Dustin’s still talking.

Nobody knows how he has this much energy left.

Steve’s sitting with his back against the dock while you lie half across his lap, damp from the lake and warm from the sun. His fingers move lazily up and down your bare thigh while he talks quietly with Robin about something you’re not really listening to anymore.

Mostly because you’re sleepy.

And because Steve keeps absentmindedly touching you like he physically can’t help himself.

Every few seconds, his thumb brushes your skin, his hand squeezes your knee, his fingers slide through your hair, his lips press automatically against your temple whenever you tilt closer.

It’s constant.

Easy.

Thoughtless.

Like loving you lives somewhere beneath conscious effort now.

“…you’re doing it again,” Robin says eventually.

Steve looks up. “Doing what?”

“You just kissed her mid-sentence.”

Steve blinks once. “Okay?”

“You didn’t even pause your conversation.”

You lift your head slightly. “Honestly, that’s kinda impressive.”

“Thank you,” Steve says immediately.

Robin looks exhausted. “I need both of you to know this is psychological warfare.”

Dustin points accusingly from nearby. “Seriously. Every time I look over, one of you is grabbing the other one’s face.”

Steve shrugs lazily. “Skill issue.”

“You suck.”

You laugh into Steve’s shoulder while he looks deeply pleased with himself.

Then, because he’s apparently incapable of restraint today, he tips your chin upward and kisses you again properly.

Dustin groans so dramatically that Nancy finally lowers her book.

“Oh my god,” she says flatly. “Let them kiss in peace.”

“You’re enabling them!” Robin cries.

Jonathan glances up from his camera. “Honestly? I stopped noticing like two hours ago.”

“You’re all traitors,” Robin mutters.

Steve looks unbearably smug afterwards.

“You know,” you murmur quietly against his shoulder, “they’re kinda right.”

“What?”

“You’ve been attached to me literally all day.”

Steve thinks about that for exactly half a second.

Then shrugs. “Yeah.”

“That’s your defence?”

“I’m in love with you. What do you want from me?”

Your entire chest goes warm.

Robin immediately pretends to choke on lake water.

“NO. Absolutely not. I reject this conversation.”

Steve just grins against your hair.

The best part of the day comes later.

Not the swimming.

Not the sunshine.

Not even Steve nearly dislocating his shoulder trying to show off diving off the dock after you laughed at him once.

It’s evening. When everything finally starts slowing down.

The heat softens into something golden and sleepy while the sky melts orange above the lake. Everybody’s quieter now, exhausted from hours in the sun.

Someone’s music still plays softly from the speaker near the towels. The dock creaks gently beneath shifting weight. Water laps lazily against wood while fireflies start blinking faintly through the trees surrounding the lake.

You’re sitting beside Steve at the very end of the dock with your legs dangling over the edge.

His arm’s wrapped around your waist automatically.

Of course it is.

Behind you, the others are still talking softly amongst themselves, but nobody’s paying much attention anymore. Robin’s lying across three towels dramatically claiming she’s dying of heatstroke while Will argues with Lucas about music.

For once, nobody’s yelling at you and Steve to stop being disgustingly in love.

Probably because everyone’s too tired.

You lean your head against Steve’s shoulder while warm evening air brushes across sun-warmed skin.

And quietly, without really meaning to, Steve says, “I think this might be my favourite day we’ve ever had.”

Your chest tightens instantly.

You tilt your head slightly to look at him.

His hair’s still damp around the edges. There’s sunscreen smudged faintly along one shoulder. His cheeks are pink from sun exposure despite the amount of sunscreen you forced onto him earlier.

He looks happy.

Really happy.

The soft kind.

You smile gently. “Yeah?”

Steve nods once.

Then quieter, “Everybody’s here.”

You glance back toward the others automatically.

Nancy laughing softly at something Jonathan says.

Max lying with her head in Lucas’ lap.

Robin still being dramatic.

Dustin somehow still talking.

Warm light stretching gold across the lake while cicadas hum steadily in the trees.

Home.

The whole weird little thing you’ve all built together somehow surviving everything thrown at it.

Steve’s fingers tighten slightly against your waist.

Then he leans over and kisses your temple absentmindedly.

You smile against his shoulder.

“You know,” you murmur softly, “everyone’s gonna start bullying us again if you keep doing that.”

Steve hums thoughtfully.

Then kisses you again anyway.

From somewhere behind you, “Oh my god, BOOOOO.”

You burst out laughing immediately while Steve grins smugly against your skin.

“Worth it,” he says quietly.

dividers: saradika-graphics

[nanaslutt]

MDNI // NSFW

thinking about nanami…..

sitting behind you while you lay your back against his hard chest, his legs hooked over yours as he forces them to stay open while he pistons his thick fingers in and out of your pussy

loud squelches and drops of wetness spitting out from between you thighs as fat crocodile tears run down your cheeks. Nanami grips your throat harshly in his large hand, squeezing every so often to make you dizzy, your mouth falling open in a silent scream

“stop squirming, you can take it” Nanami whispers against your ear, followed by a harsh smack against your pussy after he abruptly yanks his fingers out before shoving them back in, continuing his brutal pace

“k-kento too- too much-“ you whine, your body shaking and jerking in his hold, trying to get him to ease up on you, but Nanami is having none of it

he removes his hand from your throat and presses it against your mouth shutting you up. he presses your head back against his shoulder roughly as your forced to look at the ceiling while his fingers abuse your g-spot rapidly, one merciless thrust after the other

“I said take it.” He groans, fed up with your complains. His cock is twitching so hard against the confines of his boxers as he feels finger fucks you, imagining how soft and warm you’re gonna feel around his cock when he’s done working you open

“cmon, squirt for me again and ill give you a break, my love” Nanami groans, pausing his thrusts to curl his counters rapidly against your gspot, making you cry out behind his hand, your whines muffled as you shake and shake and shake until-

a stream of clear liquid sprays out from your cunt, making Nanami groan in satisfaction as he begins pistoning his fingers in and out of you again, working you though your orgasm, getting your cum all over the bed sheets,

“good fucking girlll, good girl.” Nanami moans, his jaw slack as he watches you squirt for the second time all over him, his cock leaking pre-cum in his boxers. “proud of you honey, so proud.” he coos, pulling his fingers out of you as he wraps both arms around your torso, allowing you to breathe and whine freely now that your mouth is unobstructed again

“take a second and breathe before i have you squirt all over my cock.” Nanami whispers against your ear, the prospect of cumming again shaking you to your core but his deep voice vibrating through body sends a new wave of energy through you :3

[gojosconsort]

︵ ೀ mdni. suguru wants what he’s not allowed to have ( dubcon / non-con thoughts )

suguru always knew you were off limits.

satoru’s little sister. the one person on earth his best friend would actually kill him for touching. he repeated it like a prayer every time you walked into the room in those tiny sleep shorts, hair still wet from the shower, pretending you didn’t notice him noticing.

but sometimes he wondered if you did it on purpose—the way you’d bend just a little too far to grab something from the fridge or stretch lazy on the couch so your shirt rode up. innocent? maybe. but the glance you’d shoot him after made him think you knew exactly what you were doing.

he’d force his eyes away, repeat the mantra: off limits. off limits. but his body betrayed him every time, cock twitching at the thought of pinning you down and making you admit it.

he kept telling himself it was fine. that jerking off in the shower with your name stuck behind his teeth was enough. that coming hard enough to see stars while picturing your mouth, your thighs, the way you’d gasp if he ever got his hands on you, was as close as he’d ever get.

it wasn’t enough. not after the hundredth time. he’d leave early from hangouts, feign headaches, anything to escape the ache of wanting what he couldn’t have.

he kept his hands to himself for two years.

then came the night satoru passed out drunk on the living room floor after a college party, snoring loud enough to drown out the rain. you found suguru on the balcony, cigarette between his fingers even though he quit months ago.

you leaned beside him, shoulder brushing his, stealing the smoke without asking. exhaled slow, eyes on the wet city. voice barely above the rain.

“tired of pretending yet, suguru?”

he took a drag, let the silence stretch, played dumb.

“pretending what?”

you smiled, stepped closer until the balcony light caught the lace edge of your bra through the open neck of his borrowed shirt. leaned in just enough that he could see straight down if he let his eyes drop.

they dropped.

“that,” you whispered, breath warm against his jaw. “exactly that.”

he snapped. cigarette flicked into the dark, hand already fisting in your hair to drag you in, mouth crashing against yours like the rule had never existed.

slow at first, lips barely parted. then deeper, mouth opening on yours with a low sound that rumbled in his chest, tongue sliding against yours. his other hand came up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just right so he could lick into you slow and deliberate, swallowing the small noise you made when he sucked on your bottom lip.

you felt it everywhere (his teeth grazing, the faint sting when he bit down soft, the way he breathed your name against your mouth like it hurt to say it out loud). the rain kept falling, cold on your skin where the shirt slipped off one shoulder, but his palm was burning, dragging down your throat, thumb brushing the frantic pulse he put there.

seconds later, he has you pressed to the mattress in the guest room your parents never use, your thighs over his forearms, folded so deep your breath shakes.

he’s thick, impossibly so, and he knows it. takes his time pressing in, just the blunt head at first, slow nudge that has you gasping into the pillow. he watches your face, eyes black with want, jaw locked tight while he feeds you inch by inch, letting you feel every drag, every pulse.

you’re so wet it’s unreal, but still tight enough that he has to stop halfway, breath shaking, forehead dropping to yours.

“fuck,” he whispers. “feels so good.”

he bottoms out all at once, sudden and deep, hips flush to yours. you gasp loud, the sound echoing too far in the quiet house.

his hand clamps over your mouth fast, palm muffling the noise while his eyes lock on yours. “shh,” he breathes against your throat. “we’re still pretending he’s asleep down the hall.”

you whimper into his skin, body clenching hard around him, and he groans low, staying buried, letting you feel every twitch. he stays like that, hand over your mouth, hips perfectly still while you pulse around him, every clench pulling a ragged breath from his chest. his free hand slides down your side, thumb tracing the dip of your waist, fingers splaying wide.

slowly he eases back, just enough to feel the drag, then sinks in again—deep, deliberate, grinding at the end until stars burst behind your eyelids. you bite his palm to muffle the whine, tears slipping hot down your temples.

“good girl,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “be quiet for me, yeah?”

another withdraw, another thrust, building that maddening rhythm while the rain hammers the window, drowning out the slick sounds between you. his mouth finds your neck, teeth grazing the pulse he races, sucking soft marks you'll hide tomorrow.

you arch into him, legs wrapping tighter, heels digging into his back as he hits that spot over and over. every slow drag back inside you rips another memory loose.

the couch where you fell asleep during movie nights, head on satoru’s shoulder while suguru stared at the inch of skin your shirt rode up to expose, hand clenched around a pillow so he wouldn’t reach. the kitchen counter you leaned against in tiny shorts, laughing at something stupid, and he pictured bending you over it until his teeth left marks on his own tongue. the hallway when you hugged him goodbye, tits pressed soft to his chest, and he had to count backwards from ten so he wouldn’t drag you into the bathroom and drop to his knees.

all those nights he came with your name on his tongue, pretending the fist around his cock was you instead.

now he’s buried in the real thing, tighter, wetter, better than any fantasy ever let him have. your body takes him like it was waiting, like it knew the whole time. every thrust proves the dream was a pale fucking shadow.

he bottoms out again, hips flush, grinding slow just to feel you flutter, and thinks: this is what i ruined myself for. this is why nothing else ever worked.

reality wins. every single time.

he pulls out slow, cock slick and heavy, and you’re still shaking when the first thick pulse of him spills across your folds. he watches, breath ragged, thumb spreading it lazy over your swollen clit, pushing a little back inside.

more leaks out, white against your skin, dripping down the curve of your ass onto the sheets. the sight punches the air from his lungs.

he thinks of satoru downstairs, snoring, trusting him with his life. thinks how his best friend would actually, finally kill him if he knew suguru just came inside his little sister raw, if he ever put a baby in you.

then he looks at you, thighs trembling, pussy painted with him, and the thought flips violent and possessive: satoru would absolutely hate it, but that's half the thrill.

he pushes more back in, finger curling just enough to make you gasp.

next time, he won't pull out.

[gojosconsort]

mdni. suguru loves to corrupt his best friend’s little sister (again).

“turn over and i’ll do your front too,” suguru says, voice low enough not to wake satoru who has been snoring in the sun beside you on the beach for the last forty minutes, completely oblivious. “can’t have my best friend’s little sister getting sunburnt.”

you huff a quiet laugh into your folded arms, cheek still pillowed there, the thin strings of your bikini top already undone for tan lines. “you only call me that when you want something.”

his knees sink into the towel beside you; the bottle of sunscreen clicks open. “i always want something from you.”

cool lotion hits the overheated skin between your shoulder blades first—his palm broad and warm, spreading it in long strokes down the length of your spine. thumbs press into the small of your back, circling slow, working the cream into every dip and curve like he’s mapping territory he already knows by heart.

you feel the faint drag of calluses when his hands slide lower, down your waist, then to your ass. palms smoothing over the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms, thumbs dipping under the elastic edges just enough to tease skin that’s already prickling.

“missed a spot,” he says, even though you both know he hasn’t.

a few feet away satoru lets out a sleepy mumble and rolls onto his side, sunglasses crooked on his nose, still dead to the world.

suguru leans closer. his chest brushes your back; the steady thump of his heartbeat presses between your shoulder blades. “shhh,” he breathes against the shell of your ear. “you’ll wake your brother.”

two fingers hook the waistband of your bottoms and tug—slow—barely an inch. just enough to bare your ass to the warm sea air. you bite your lip when his slick fingers follow the path, gliding between your cheeks. he parts your folds from behind with maddening patience, middle finger dragging through the slick heat that’s been gathering since his hands first landed on you.

“already dripping,” he whispers, pleased. “such a greedy little thing when satoru’s right there.”

you whimper—soft, barely audible over the crash of waves. and he presses one long finger inside you, easy, slow, letting you feel every ridge of his knuckle as he sinks in to the last. your hips twitch; he pins the small of your back down with his free hand, keeping you still.

“stay,” he orders quietly. “let me take care of you.”

a second finger joins the first. he curls them immediately, stroking over that spot that makes your toes curl into the towel. his thumb finds your clit at the same time—light, maddening circles—and suddenly the sun is too hot, the ocean too loud, your brother too close.

suguru’s mouth brushes the nape of your neck. “you clench so sweetly when you’re scared he’ll hear.”

he scissors his fingers, stretching you open, then fucks them back in with a wet sound that makes your face burn. you turn your head, muffling the next moan into your forearm.

he doesn’t stop. doesn’t speed up. Just keeps that slow rhythm—curling, stroking, rubbing tight little circles over your clit until your thighs tremble and your breathing turns ragged.

“look at him,” suguru murmurs. “sleeping like he doesn’t have a care in the world while I'm fucking his baby sister.” you clench hard around his fingers at the words; he groans low in his throat.

“that’s it,” he praises. “come for me. come while he’s dreaming right there. soak my hand, i know you want it.”

he angles his wrist just right—presses hard against that spot—and you do. your whole body locks up, mouth open in a silent cry, walls clenching around his fingers as slick gushes over his knuckles. he works you through it with deep strokes, drawing it out until you’re shaking and gasping against the towel.

he leans down, kisses the space between your shoulder blades, then whispers so softly only you can hear: “good girl.”

you’re still catching your breath, face buried in your arms, when satoru suddenly snorts awake. he sits up, sunglasses sliding down his nose as he squints against the glare. “mhmm… what’d i miss?” he yawns, stretching his arms overhead.

suguru lifts his right hand—the one still glistening faintly with your release—and brings it to his mouth. slowly, he drags the flat of his tongue along the length of his middle and ring fingers. his eyes stay locked on yours the entire time, dark and amused.

“nah,” he says, voice perfectly casual as he licks a final stripe up his palm and sucks the tips clean with a soft, wet sound. “nothing at all. just making sure your sister doesn’t burn.”

part one ✧ part two

[voxslut3434]

cw: sexual content, reader fucks herself on stream

camgirl!reader and all the men who follow you......

6eyez4you who is your highest paying subscriber. any time you hop on, whether that's just to talk to your chat or to sink onto an 12 inch dildo, he's there paying you enough to cover rent for the next 12 months. he always sends a flirty message, something like "hope this gets you 10x wetter ;)" or "send me the used panties you buy with this, cutie." it never fails to make you jaw drop when you see how much he spends on you, and his favorite part is when you thank him with your voice all high and whiny.

suguwatches is always pushing you to your limits. just when you feel you've orgasmed too many times, he's there to encourage you. "just one more baby, for all of us." and of course, you listen. ever so supportive, even though you don't know who he is, you find comfort in reading his sweet messages. no matter what request he sends, you always are willing to do it. that "great job sweetheart" feels that much better every time.

then you have your_hitman33 who never fails to make you blush. every time he logs on, he leaves the dirtiest comments, saying thiings like "of course the slut likes the biggest toy" and "id fuck you so hard baby." never afraid to say what's on his mind, his demeaning words make you feel that much more turned on. you still remember that one time you did a self-bondage stream, and he said "im gonna find you and fuck the shit out of you." even though you knew he wouldn't come, you've been chasing that rush of fear ever since.

horny_salaryman has to be the one you want to marry the most, though. he tunes in and pays you a hefty $300 every time, always commenting on your beauty. "You look like an angel today." when you were too tired to do your makeup, "I love your smile, beautiful." when you've just woken up. while the others get your pussy wetter, he always seems to make your face warm and your belly get butterflies, kind praise when others complain about your appearance.

but the one you seem to think about the most is ryossecret_. he only joins every now and again, and has only left a few comments. whenever you see his name show up in chat a feeling of insecurity rushes over you, like you need to perform more, entertain him. he only left one comment and that was "You look good for breeding.", but aside from that he just watches. that is, until he dms you asking if you want to collab.............

[voxslut3434]

cw: sexual content, reader fucks herself on stream

camgirl!reader and all the men who follow you......

6eyez4you who is your highest paying subscriber. any time you hop on, whether that's just to talk to your chat or to sink onto an 12 inch dildo, he's there paying you enough to cover rent for the next 12 months. he always sends a flirty message, something like "hope this gets you 10x wetter ;)" or "send me the used panties you buy with this, cutie." it never fails to make you jaw drop when you see how much he spends on you, and his favorite part is when you thank him with your voice all high and whiny.

suguwatches is always pushing you to your limits. just when you feel you've orgasmed too many times, he's there to encourage you. "just one more baby, for all of us." and of course, you listen. ever so supportive, even though you don't know who he is, you find comfort in reading his sweet messages. no matter what request he sends, you always are willing to do it. that "great job sweetheart" feels that much better every time.

then you have your_hitman33 who never fails to make you blush. every time he logs on, he leaves the dirtiest comments, saying thiings like "of course the slut likes the biggest toy" and "id fuck you so hard baby." never afraid to say what's on his mind, his demeaning words make you feel that much more turned on. you still remember that one time you did a self-bondage stream, and he said "im gonna find you and fuck the shit out of you." even though you knew he wouldn't come, you've been chasing that rush of fear ever since.

horny_salaryman has to be the one you want to marry the most, though. he tunes in and pays you a hefty $300 every time, always commenting on your beauty. "You look like an angel today." when you were too tired to do your makeup, "I love your smile, beautiful." when you've just woken up. while the others get your pussy wetter, he always seems to make your face warm and your belly get butterflies, kind praise when others complain about your appearance.

but the one you seem to think about the most is ryossecret_. he only joins every now and again, and has only left a few comments. whenever you see his name show up in chat a feeling of insecurity rushes over you, like you need to perform more, entertain him. he only left one comment and that was "You look good for breeding.", but aside from that he just watches. that is, until he dms you asking if you want to collab.............

[bigassbowlingballhead]

[nanaslutt]

“𝓐𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓲𝓮𝓼, 𝓓𝓻. 𝓩𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴.” ☃︎⋆꙳•❅*ִ

or: zayne eats you out on his desk when you visit him at work

“Oh my—” Your eyes roll back in your head as your lips part to form an O. “Fuck!”

Zayne hums against your clit, sucking against the sensitive skin.

You hiss air in through your teeth and snap your head down to watch him. His gaze already awaited yours; the hazel-green of his iris is swallowed by his blown pupils. Your back arches involuntarily in response to the pleasure his tongue gives you. “That feels so good,” you moan, running your hands through his hair.

Zayne parts his lips and kisses your clit in an obscene, sloppy tongue-kiss, ending the motion by pouting his lips against your cunt and sucking your clit. The sight is debauched and indulgent, reminding you of the slow kisses he teases your other lips with while you sit on his lap and help him wind down after a long day.

He french-kisses your cunt again before pulling back and pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “You need to keep your voice down, sweetheart,” he gently chastises. “These walls are thick, but they aren’t impressive enough to conceal your volume.”

“I’m sorry,” you immediately reply, needing to feel his lips back on you. “I’ll be quiet.” You deigned not to remind him that it had been HIM who asked you to say his name, leading you to lose control of your volume, but in the current atmosphere, you didn’t quite feel like bringing up semantics if it meant it would take longer for him to make you cum.

“Good.” He cracks a small, handsome smile, leaning into your touch while you run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to get interrupted and stop before I can finish here.” He leans back in between your thighs, and you have to clasp a hand over your mouth to stifile the moan that rose in your throat.

It was so sexy—how he spoke of making you cum as something for him. But Zayne always had been quite the giver.

His eyes flutter shut, and his brows crease as he traces tight, wet circles around your clit with his tongue. “Mmm!” Your pleased whine is muffled by your palm, but you cannot control your thighs that begin to tremble around his head. The hand in his hair tightens against his scalp, while the hand on his desk beside you crumples a paper you really hope can be reprinted.

Zayne’s arms are wrapped around your legs; his hands grip your thighs to hold you steady and keep your cunt pressed to his mouth while he eats you out. He shakes his head from side to side, dragging his soft tongue against you. 

It aches where he pleases you, never enough, and simultaneously too much. You want him inside you, above you, below you, around you—to be consumed by him and to be consuming him. Your hands can't run along enough skin on the nape of his neck, your nails can’t dig hard enough into the muscle planes of his back as your body jerks forward and you latch onto him for dear life.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip while Zayne grunts into your cunt, sending blissful vibrations down to your very core. He flattens his tongue and rubs your clit in circles expertly, as he has done a thousand times before.

And it’s too much.

“Z-zayne.” You manage to gasp out his name without crying it for the whole hospital night staff to hear.

He knows exactly what that sound means, so attuned with your body and how your clit twitches against his tongue and your needy entrance pulses around nothing. He wishes he could fill you, even with just his fingers, but he knew that kind of pleasure would be too much for now, so he settled for only using his tongue.

He nods, holding your eyes with his blissed out gaze. The tips of his ears and his cheeks are a handsome red, all flushed in his own arousal and pride at making his beautiful partner feel so good. He tells you to let go with his stare, to cum all over his tongue and make a mess of his mouth, to use him and ride it out until your body becomes boneless with satiation.

So that’s exactly what you do.

“Zayne, Zayne, Zayne—” You chant his name, your final cry strained as your lips fall open and your orgasm crashes into you. You gasp against the onslaught of pleasure while he continues to gently lick your cunt, careful not to add too much pressure to your clit directly lest he overstimulates you without meaning to.

The pleasure is so intense. Your abdomen jerks uncontrollably as you ride it out on his tongue. You feel entirely out of control of your body, your legs shaking and your arms taut as you hold his head against you, but your mind is calm and a sea of white, knowing that you are in the safest place in the world.

Zayne removes his mouth from between your legs and stands from the floor of his desk. He wipes the evidence of your pleasure from his mouth with his thumb and steps between your thighs. Using his thumb and pointer finger, he tilts your boneless head up to face him, slightly smirking at the blissed-out expression on your face. “Are you satisfied?” he asks.

In response, you lean into his chest and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his abdomen. 

Zayne grunts in surprise, pausing with his arms in the air before he chuckles and reciprocates your touch. He strokes your hair with a strong hand, drawing his fingers down to cradle the back of your head while he draws his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I’ll set up the couch for you. I have a few post-op tasks to complete, and then we can go home, alright?” 

He leans back to see your face and bends down to press a kiss to your nose, making you blink one of your eyes shut at his closeness. “Are you tired?” he whispers.

You nod, feeling your eyelids be weighed down by boulders the longer your stay in his embrace.

You’re so exhausted, you hardly recognize you’re being lifted until he’s setting you down on the plush couch in his office. Your head sinks into the decorative pillow at the arm of the couch, before a weight is placed atop you.

“My jacket,” he explains, crouching to come face to face with you. “To keep you warm.” He leans in and presses a slower, more sensual kiss against your lips, lingering selfishly. He pulls away to brush his fingers against your cheek. “Sleep well, my love.”

[xrosesarebluex]

SMOKE 1.09

[pope-codys]

smurf cody the criminal? love her. what a scary, crafty bitch. i certainly wouldn't wanna fuck with her and i respect the hell out of her cunning and manipulative mind.

janine cody the mother? rot in hell. if i ever got my hands on her she'd end up six feet under. i'd get her with hammers. it's what she deserves. fuck that bitch for everything she did to her kids (pope especially)

[suggiecries]

“Call thomebody”

[dirtygir1]

i think Pope is a little freak who gets hard at the most mundane things you do. he can’t help himself :((

you’re behind him on the bed, rubbing at his tense shoulders bc he’s been really stressed lately. “you feelin’ better baby?” you ask from behind, getting a shaky yeahh from him. when u finally turn to face him he’s opening his eyes to the tent in his sweats. you’ve got an amused smile on ur face, “what’s got you so excited??” you say before giving him a lil kiss :3

you’re in your laziest outfit: a hair dye stained shirt, his boxers hanging on u loosely, mismatched patterned socks while making a small lunch. he’s literally just woken up from a nap yet he’s stiff as hell watching u move in your shared kitchen. could it be the morning wood? the way his boxers hang off your body in a way he can tell u have nothing else on under em? you just excite him.

he’s coming behind you and burying his face in your neck, and his dick is the first thing that alerts you. “hi baby,” you coo as he rubs at your stomach. “you…need something from me?” “no..maybe, i think it’s cause i just woke up i’m sorry.” it’s ok babyboy!!

he watches from the other side of the couch as you fold laundry, eyes locked on whatever’s on the tv. maybe it’s something maternal about it, or the domesticity of you folding his clothes neatly. he sighs shakily, palming himself between his thighs as he watches u with those big needy eyes.

when you feel his gaze you look over, smiling bashfully at the display he doesn’t try to hide. “you ok honey?” you don’t stop at your task. “mhm…i’m sorry you’re just so…pretty.” “it’s ok. i’ll help you when i’m done, okay?” he just loves his lady so much :((

it goes without saying that you guys have sex probably 3-5 times a week because of this little problem.

[rafeysbunny]

⌑ islander!reader dragging fwb!jj into the bathroom for a fuck 'cause she misses him

cw ! nsfw, unprotected p in v, pussy slapping, squirting.

you and jj are definitely not together. at least, that’s what you tell everyone. just friends —friends who happen to sneak off to fuck whenever they feel like it, who know each other’s bodies better than they probably should, who have been playing this dangerous little game for months.

but now, jj’s lounging on the couch, laughing at something john b said, looking so obnoxiously good with his messy blonde hair and that damn smirk. he knows you want him. he’s been teasing you all night, letting his fingers linger for a little too long on you waist every time he passed by, brushing his lips against your ear just to say something stupid. and you've had enough.

you haven't had him in days. you need him. bad.

so you do what any person in your desperate situation would do —you get up, stretch, and head towards the hallway, muttering something about wanting to lay down for a bit after you give him that look. that's all jj needs. you know the second you disappear down the hall, he’ll follow.

and of course he does.

as soon as the bathroom door clicks shut behind him, you're on him. his back hits the door with a soft thud when you slam him against it, his arms gripping your waist instinctively while he stares down at you, those stupidly pretty blue eyes shining with amusement.

"fuck, sunshine —couldn’t wait, huh?" he has the signature smug grin in his lips as he talks. "you that desperate for my dick?"

that little smirks does unholy things to you. "shut up."

gripping the nape of his neck, you tug him down to press a hungry kiss to his rosy lips, letting out a soft whimper. he doesn't waste any time, his tongue pushing into your mouth, kissing you back with the same intensity. his hands slide down from your waist to grip your plump ass, pulling you flush against him so you can feel his hardening cock.

after a couple of minutes, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your mouth, "bossy."

"you like it," you mutter back, full lips curling into a pretty smirk.

your small hands move to grip the hem of his worn out t-shirt, eagerly tugging at it to get it off his perfect body. he chuckles, low and deep in his throat as he lifts his arms, letting you pull the shirt up and off. his chest is bare now, all toned muscles and warm skin making you drool.

"yeah, i really fuckin' do," he admits, hands also moving to help you take off your own.

beneath your top you're not wearing anything so when he yanks it off, you're left bare chested, pretty tits bouncing out of the thin fabric. his eyes darken at the sight immediately, scanning your body like he’s hungry for you in a way that makes you ache.

his hands are rough as they slide up your sides, and the feeling of his calloused palms against your soft skin makes your breath hitch. you have to bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan, when his thumbs graze over your perky nipples, and you shudder, arching into him, eager for more contact.

"shit, you’re so damn soft," jj mutters under his breath as he leans forward to kiss down your neck, lips slowly trailing over the sexy tan lines on your chest. "fuckin' love your body..."

“fuck, jay...” you whimper, fingers tugging at his waistband, eager to get him out of his clothes.

he chuckles against your throat at how needy you sound, his lips moving to capture yours while his hands slide down, cupping your ass before he lifts you up like you weight nothing. instinctively, you lock your legs around his waist, feeling his thick cock pressing against your sex through his board shorts, which makes you gasp into the kiss.

he walks you over to the old counter, setting you down so you’re sitting on the cool surface, which creaks beneath your weight, making you both pause for just a second.

"you want it, sunshine?" he teases, voice low and raspy. "my dick so deep inside you?" his hands squeeze your supple thighs, pulling you closer to him him. "say it, pretty girl."

"yeah," you start to say, but then he grinds against your pussy and all rational thought vanishes instantly.

"yeah, what?" he prompts.

he moves his hips again so his dick drags against your clit through the thin fabric of both your bottoms, his hands gripping your legs like he’s holding on for dear life.

"need your dick inside my pussy so bad," you answer to his enjoyment, struggling to hold back your pretty whimpers.

"that's it, sunshine. fuckin' love when you beg for it," he praises.

letting go of one leg, he pushes down his shorts and boxers, just enough to free his large, thick cock, which is fully hard for you. you mouth waters when you see it, and you're tempted to drop to your knees for him, but you don’t have time for that —not today. a gentle tap on your thigh brings you back to reality, and you hear jj asking you to lift up, so you obey, hips lifting from the sink as his fingers grip the waistband of your shorts.

he yanks them down and off of you in one swift movement, along with your panties, tossing them somewhere across the bathroom without a care.

"fuck– pussy looks so pretty and wet for me," he groans out, watching with hungry eyes as you spread your tanned legs for him.

"you been teasin' me all day..." you whine in response, sweet voice all breathy and shaky.

your cunt is already throbbing in anticipation as you wait for him to do something, anything really.

"yeah, well... how about i make it up to you, huh?" he smirked, fisting his cock and giving it a couple of pumps. without warning, he rubs the head against your slick folds, teasing your puffy clit with it. "you missed having this dick?"

your whole body shudders at his action, little bundle of nerves buzzing from pleasure. you can feel your pussy clenching around thin air, begging to be filled up.

"jay," you cry out almost pathetically, "stop that."

"stop what?"

he chuckles mischievously, dragging his length up and down your slit oh-so-slowly, the fat tip pushing against your opening briefly before he pulls back, denying you both again.

"stop teasing, fuck," you huff, finally snapping.

your hand sneaks between your bodies to wrap around his shaft, lining him up with your dripping hole before you sink onto him, and you both have to bite back a moan of pure relief. he nearly loses his balance at how good you feel squeezing his cock, one hand slamming against the counter behind you for support.

"shit..." he hisses through clenched teeth, his free hand keeping you spread open for him. "that's so hot..."

it drives him crazy when you take control like that, and you know it, so you enjoy doing it every now and then —despite how much you love him being in charge. his face burrows into the crook of your neck as he tries to keep his cool, and his hips start moving slowly, pulling out just an inch or so before sliding back in, his thick cock stretching you out so good.

"fuck, you feel like heaven."

you have to reach up to cover your mouth while you throw your head back against the mirror, muffling a whiny moan that you can't possibly hold back. jj’s fingers dig into your hips, his grip bruising as he finally starts to move, fucking into you with hard, deep strokes that have your breath hitching.

his lips find your jaw, then your ear, voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he says, "pussy's squeezing me so tight... she’s fuckin' made f'me."

he punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, making you choke on a gasp. with the way his dick pumps into your cunt just right, it's impossible to look anything but a complete mess for him. you can't even bring yourself to care about the rest of the pogues hearing anymore, not even when the sink creaks with every thrust.

he leans back slightly to watch as his dick slides in and out of your perfect, puffy pussy. the sight is so fucking hot that he can't help but pick up the pace even more, slamming into you over and over again until the sound of bodies slapping together echoes loudly through the bathroom. your cunt is soon fluttering around him, and the muscles in your tummy tighten as you approach your climax, the pleasure so much that it has your pretty little toes curling.

"shit, you're gonna make me nut if you keep doing that," he groans, and you can hear the strain in his voice.

"uhm, can't help it..." you mumble.

smirking roguishly, you clench around him again, voluntarily this time, and his eyes roll back as he bites his lip, trying his hardest not to come just yet. he knows you're close too, and he wants to make you cum first.

"such a tease..."

he punishes you by slapping your clit, making it sting. but then he starts rubbing it, and the combination between pain and pleasure makes the coil in your belly snap, pussy squirting around his dick when you finally orgasm. your release leaves you shaking and panting for air, almost crying from how intense it is —you have to bite down on your lip to keep quiet, so hard that you almost draw blood.

and you look so damn pretty, trembling beneath him and soaking his cock, that jj swears he falls in love with you on the spot, spitting out a curse while relishing in your fucked out expression.

"my gosh, sunshine, you just squirted f'me? fuck..."

the sight, added to the feeling of your snug pussy gripping him so fucking tight, has him spilling his cum inside you, head dropping back with a shaky breath. it takes everything in him not to moan out loud as he keeps thrusting erratically, pumping you full of his seed.

when you both come down from your respective highs, you notice jj is staring down at you with hearts in his eyes, but you force yourself to ignore it —not wanting to acknowledge the way it makes your heart flutter. you just push him back gently to climb down from the sink and start throwing your clothes back on.

jj is terribly hurt by that, but he also pushes the feelings away, focusing on accommodating his shirt and pants; pants which happen to be soaked in your squirt, and which cost him a lot of mocking comments from the pogues when he leaves the bathroom to go change, leaving you behind not to raise any suspicions.

"ew, jj, did you fuckin' pee yourself?"

at least, they don't seem to have noticed about your little... rendezvous.

[rafeysbunny]

bf! jj eating you out in the twinkie

your hips buckle impatiently against jj's face, pretty eyes looking through the window of the twinkie to make sure no one's around. he's peppering a bunch of wet kisses all over your creamy thighs, lips gently suckling at the sensitive flesh, which has you panting heavily already.

"c'mon, jay..." you whimper softly, and there's a pleading tone to your sweet voice. "gotta be quick."

only your crazy boyfriend could convince you that it's a good idea to let him eat you out in the back of john b's van in broad daylight, when it's clearly not. not when you're in the middle of a parking lot and your friends are in harbor freight, getting some shopping done for the poguelandia renovation. they could come back at any moment, for god's sake.

"relax, princess. i'll have you cumming in less than five minutes," he whispers cockily, hands sliding up your thighs to push your pretty, floral dress up and around your waist. "just lemme enjoy this for a bit, yeah?"

precisely, it's the dress which has gotten you into this situation in the first place, the piece of clothing making your gorgeous body look so good that jj has been dying to get his hands on you the whole day. "so fuckin' pretty." his warm breath brushes your skin while he talks, his face a few inches from your covered sex, to which he presses a chaste kiss; the action makes you shudder.

he'd keep teasing you with featherlight touches and little kisses for a bit more, relishing in the way your body arches and your hips rock upwards desperately— until he finally hooks his fingers in the gusset of your white cotton panties and pushes them aside gently, exposing your soaked pussy.

"such a dirty girl, huh?" he teases, gliding his fingers through your slit to part your slick folds. "gettin' all wet f'me, knowing our friends could walk in on me eating out this sweet cunt..."

cool air caresses your overheated flesh before he leans in and drags the flat of his tongue up your centre, nice and slow, which makes your whole body shake. your mouth drops open in response as you grab a handful of his soft, blonde hair, hips jerking unconsciously.

he moans at your taste, his piercing, blue eyes locked on yours as he closes his lips around your sensitive clit, his fingers hooking around your supple thighs to keep you spread open for him. you can feel the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin due to his hard grip. that, added to the feeling of his skilled mouth sucking onto your pussy, has your head swimming.

you'd be panting heavily and whimpering in no time, your pussy a sopping mess from your own arousal and his spit. he easily slips two thick digits inside your dripping hole, alternating between sucking and flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers crook to rub against that spongy spot at the front that makes your vision blur and your pretty eyes roll back into your skull as you moan, not caring that someone might hear.

the orgasm builds rapidly, the coil in your tummy tightening while your pussy flutters around his fingers and your pretty little toes wiggle inside your converse. as promised, he has you cumming in less than five minutes, the pleasure so much that you squirt onto his handsome face with a whiny whimper, completely soaking everything inside john b's car.

the sight almost makes him cream his pants.

"fuck, jay, how are we gonna clean this shit up?" you'd mutter, still trying catch your breath, just before you both hear your friends' chatter getting close to the twinkie.

hell, you're screwed.

more.