NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU
NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU
synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.
content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.
word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—
SPRING 2008
“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?”
An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulder, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.
Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.
“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.
He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.
It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.
The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere.
Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation.
Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.
And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...
Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.
Who knows.
All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.
“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”
“Two years, by force.”
“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”
You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.
Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today.
Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.
“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”
In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.
“Geto-senpai!”
Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.
You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him.
You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.
Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.
Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot.
“I see that Satoru's already started…”
Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it.
“Anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”
Which reminded you…
“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”
You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.
Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.
“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.
“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”
…Huh?
Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side.
His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own.
“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.
You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.
Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner.
You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened???
Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”
Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.
Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.
If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.
“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.
There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.
“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”
SUMMER 2009
To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school.
Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently.
Whenever he can.
He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.
You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.
Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.
“Sooo,” you start slowly.
Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow.
“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you.
You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.
“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”
There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.
“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”
You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…
“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro.
Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.
But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.
You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!”
It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.
“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”
Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”
Huh?
You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.
Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!
Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.
Christ.
Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, she’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.
The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there.
Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.
“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.
Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”
“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”
“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”
“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.
“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”
An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”
And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.
WINTER 2011
Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.
It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.
Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes.
Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.
But something was... different.
With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.
Harmful, right?
So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.
There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.
“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”
Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.
He was being serious.
From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.
You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”
Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”
The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.
“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.
“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?
But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.
“Sato—” Fuck.
You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”
“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”
“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”
Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be.
There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”
Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now.
“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.
A FEW YEARS LATER
A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.
Satoru: Are you home?
What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again.
…And again.
Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.
As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.
Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )
Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry
You: yes... why?
Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person.
But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.
Satoru: Open your door.
What the fuck.
Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl
So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!
You: you're actually insane.
You: hold on!
Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.
“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.
Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!
He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.
Yeesh.
Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob.
It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—
“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.
“Happy birthday!”
In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.
Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake.
Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.
He’s cute.
Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.
On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.
Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.
“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”
You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”
Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.
Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.
With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.
Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”
He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.
Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.
“Wait, what,” you deadpan.
This can’t be what you think it is.
“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”
Har. Har. Very funny.
You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.
Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre.
That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.
“Satoru!” you squeal.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.
Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him.
Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt.
“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”
Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject.
There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.
“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.
For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.
It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot.
But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.
There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.
The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.
Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.
“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.
“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”
And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.
Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it).
Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.
God, you wanted him bad.
It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Cute.
That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.
You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement. “Come to my bedroom.”
Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.
And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.
Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal.
Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.
Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.
Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear.
“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”
Message received.
Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours.
The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.
“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.
“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means.
He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him.
But something’s up.
His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.
You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.
Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.
Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.
“Do you like that?” you ask.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.
“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.
You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.
There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.
And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line.
Fuck.
You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.
He wants you to strip him of his clothes.
Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.
You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.
“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”
“Oh.”
Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?
Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.
Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”
You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in.
There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.
Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.
You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.
“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.
“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.
“Shut up about it…”
But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?”
A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.
“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”
Oh.
Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.
“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.
You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.
The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.
Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.
You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone.
“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.
“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.
Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”
He pushes in and you swear you see stars.
Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.
You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning.
“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”
The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.
“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”
“S—Satoru!”
Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.
You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.
Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”
What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.
That’s what gets you.
You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.
Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.
Wow.
Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.
“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours.
You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly.
Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.
You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.
You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot.
“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.
“Hm?”
You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”
You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—
“…Yeah, why?”
Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!”
A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.
“What’d I do?!”
Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.
And maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.
if you read this far, we're fucking making out.
More Posts from Reinam00n and Others
Spit-roast
Vox x Afab!reader x Valentino
CW: Smut, use of strap, Afab reader, no pronouns used, Valentino, dacryphilia, overstimulation, aftercare(kinda), spit-roasting, size difference if you squint, cunnilingus, fast paced bc I rushed it, please tell me if I've missed any♡
A unmissable gargling sound mixed with whining comes from Vox as he chokes on your pretty pink strap, his spit oozing out of the corners of his mouth while his screen fizzled. One of your hands plays with your clit while the other lays on the back of Voz's screen, sometimes dipping down to trace the pretty, bruising necklace of bites left by yourself and Valentino.
His other end is occupied by the aforementioned Valentino, one set of the moth demons hands wrapped haphazardly around Vox's weeping cock while the other two are perched on the TV demons waist, slamming him onto his cock unapologetically.
Vox felt like, and most likely had, already came over a dozen times however, that didn't earn him any sympathy from you, and certainly not Val. Said moth demon moves one hand from Voz's pretty cock, tracing a bulge in the TV demons stomach from his bulbous dick. Vox let's out a gargled cry in response, trying to tug his sensitive ass away from Valentino's steel grip, but wouldn't be able to even if he could, due to you blocking his way.
Valentino looks at you with a smirk, hastening his thrusts as he chases his fifth high, ignoring completely as you desperately played with your clit, yet to finish. Valentino, luckily, quickly finishes, leaning his head back while panting, only looking down to see his cum seep out of Vox's abused and overstimulated asshole.
Vox cries out around your strap as Valentino pulls out with no remorse, simply telling you to 'Hurry up.' before walking off, shrugging on his robe as he passed by. You quickly pull the sobbing Vox off of your pink strap, hurrying in taking said strap off while the TV demon continues to cry.
"I- bzzt- hurts-" Vox desperately tries to explain his pain to you, going to sit up only to be pulled back down forcefully by your quivering hand, pulling him back down to your sobbing cunt. He immidietly gets the idea, forcing his square, flat head between your thighs and sticking his tounge out, licking a strategic strip against your cunt through his own spit and tears.
You can feel the vibrations of Vox jackhammering his hips into the sofa as if he were thrusting into something while be hungrily laps up the juices of your quivering sex, pushing his head as far as he could between your thighs to desperately taste you.
He quickly becomes a slobbering mess, completely forgetting the pain and cum in his ass, only thinking of your and your delicious juices. You throw your head back in ecstacy, beginning to push your cunt further into his screen to chase your first, and only, high.
You finish soon after, letting out a guttural wail before pulling away from Vox, who looked dazed as he attempted to follow your cunt with his tounge, only to quickly get shut down by you. You get up shakily, sighing and pulling your underwear up, leaving the room, leaving Vox in his poor state of subspace.
"Hurry up." You leave him with those words only, giving no sympathy to the quaking overlord.
thinking about farm ellie chopping wood please sedate me ohmygdkc fuck
LMAOOOO THIS IS AMAZING
Imagine hell has to defend itself against heaven again and this time the overlords are actually plotting together about it. So they're trying to come up with a battle plan and Velvette brings these figurines to put on the map. Most of them are just little faceless mannequins she uses for her outfit designs and she's written everyone's names on them. But one of them is a very realistic, very detailed Alastor figurine in a wedding dress.
And Carmilla is like "Okay so we need to figure out how we're going to forcibly close the portal to heaven— Alastor, you've been very quiet and thinking, do you have an idea?"
And Alastor just looks up at Velvette and gestures towards the figurine very calmly but with a twitching eye and goes "Why do you have this?"
HEL:DPGLPSHKPSGSDPOKO ANON I'M CRYING. can we bring this back into the lucifer commission saga and say lucifer was commissioned by vox to make that figurine. add this on to lucifer deciding to join an overlord meeting just to try and keep more in touch with the sinners and he's like "oh! I made that" and alastor's like "you WHAT" and velvette goes "YOU'RE the one vox commissioned this from??" and alastor's like "vox WHAT??????????" and then they sing a reprise of "you didn't know?"
every iteration of this gets worse and worse I'm sorry.
Rain, Rain
Sub!Levi x Gn! Reader
Synopsis: not much of a plot, just messing around with Levi in an office while it’s storming outside.
Warnings: hand job, fist-fucking, praise, very slight pain pain play, love confessions, very soft sappy shit
A/N: This was finished way sooner than i thought it would be, i got carried away 😭 also i couldn’t think of a title that wasn’t cringe, please ignore how cliche that one is.
Before everything went to shit, this kind of rain was the biggest inconvenience for the people within the walls. Closing down market stalls, turning the grass all muddy and the sky bleak and grey. You could almost hear it, the grumbling and moaning on the streets about when this dreadful weather would pass. Nowadays, however, no one bats an eye.
You’d never minded the rain, and truthfully, neither did Levi. It’s good weather for reading indoors, or lulling you both to sleep on nights when your mind is particularly active. Often, the two of you find yourselves sitting by the window, watching the storm clouds rolling in and lighting flashing, commentating to one another every now and again when a particularly loud rumble of thunder cracks through the silence. And the rain is especially lovely when it allows you to tangle up together after particularly difficult expeditions, soft touching and gentle kisses to the sound of the droplets drumming on the window panes.
Almost as if thinking of him summoned him to your door, Levi emerges with two steaming cups, placing one on the desk in front of you.
“It’s really coming down out there.” He gestures towards the window, bringing the cup to his nose and softly inhaling the fragrant aroma before taking a sip.
“It is, isn’t it. I wonder how much longer it’ll go on for.” You respond, glancing down at the black tea in front of you. “Have you got a new one?” You ask. He nods once.
“New shipment, i like this one more than the last one i got. It was dreadfully weak.”
You chuckle softly, taking a sip and nodding. “It is stronger, hm?”
There’s a moment of silence before he speaks up again, and you notice how he has subtly inched himself closer to you.
“The rain made me think of you this morning. I wish we could’ve just taken the day off.”
He doesn’t look away from the window, but you know him well enough by now to know that there is subliminal meaning behind his words. Levi has been missing you.
“I’m glad you’re here now, let’s spend some time together, forget about today.” You reach out to beckon him closer. He willfully obeys, placing a hand on the arm of your chair and leaning down to kiss you. But you pull him in closer, and he rests his weight on his knees, placing them on either side of you. Cupping his cheek gently, you brush a thumb over his lip, leaning in once more.
Your lips meet his, ever so softly, and Levi feels like he’s floating. Nimble fingers find their way, trembling slightly, to the roots of your hair as he allows himself to melt into you completely. Your arms snake around the curve of his lower spine, pulling him down so that he is no longer hovering above you, but now sitting firmly on your lap, knees straddling your thighs. At this, he lets out a soft whimper, but it’s nearly inaudible- disappearing where your lips connect.
Levi is no stranger to this, the two of you have engaged in this sort of heavy kissing in the dark many times, but at this moment he feels strangely vulnerable. Desperation is slowly chipping away at his resolve, and suddenly he’s thinking about how it feels- having you touch more of him, peeling off his clothes. He can almost feel the warmth of your palms against his bare skin. It’s in that moment that he realizes he wants all those things. Levi wants you.
You take notice in this shift in energy, if not by the eagerness with which he’s kissing you, needy and open mouthed, then by the hardness of his cock pressing into your stomach, now noticeable through his uniform pants. You don’t push, opting to see just how far he takes things on his own initiative.
You bring one hand up to the back of his head, affectionately tugging at the thick, inky-black strands of hair. His grip on your own hair tightens at this, and he groans softly against your lips, breaking the kiss only for a moment before returning again with three times the desperation. Returning your hand to his waist, you attempt to pull him impossibly closer. Close is not enough.
Levi gasps, breathing air straight from your lungs as the motion of your adjustments sends him slightly forward, his erection pressing deliciously against your lower stomach. The feeling sends his mind reeling, and he experimentally rolls his hips forward again in attempts to replicate the feeling. At the sight of him unraveling before you, so sensitive to every touch, you raise a brow, smirking against his lips.
“You ok, Levi?” You whisper, eyes meeting his in the darkness for only a moment before he casts them downward again. He hesitates, as if he’s about to make a decision that will change the course of his entire life, hands dropping from your hair and down to his lap.
“Yeah, i’m fine. Do you think…tonight would be a good night to…y’know…” he feels his cheeks burn, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the chair-cushion as he awaits your response. You grin softly, rubbing your palms up and down his thick thighs, softly kneading at them.
“I’m not sure i do, what is it you’re asking for?”
“Tch…you do know, I’m being serious.” He scolds you, rolling his eyes. “I want to.”
Your eyes finally meet his as he absentmindedly leans in a bit closer, and you take notice of newfound vulnerability that shines through them. His gaze is soft and longing- a stark contrast to his usual laser-focused expression- and you bring a hand up to trace a finger, softly over the wrinkles it’s left behind. Over the crease between his brows, the crows feet by his eyes, the dark bags beneath them from his many nights of exhaustion. He leans into your touch, and you speak through the silence.
“I love you.”
Levi is unable to stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he crashes them against yours once again before you can comment on it. His kisses are heated, almost aggressive, and for a split second you’re taken aback by it, closing your eyes and letting your grip on his thighs loosen.
His hands find your shoulders, sliding up your neck, cupping your cheeks gently before re-tangling his fingers into your hair. You hum softly against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth just enough to tease. Unsatisfied, you allow one arm to pull him snugly against you again, bringing your other to grip the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and forcing your tongue past his lips. He moans softly at this, exhaling through his nose.
Levi grinds himself forward against your stomach once again, languidly rolling his hips and pressing his dick firmly against your abdomen. By now, your mind is reeling with the thought of having him do this without those god forsaken pants to get in the way. Breaking the kiss, you look down, snapping open the buckle of his belt and nearly tearing the zipper of his pants down. He lifts himself up off your lap to shimmy out of them, tearing off his shirt in the process, as you peel off your own shirt.
Once restrictive fabric is discarded, Levi re-positions himself on top of you, shivering slightly as the air nips at his bare skin. You don’t notice the chill, already busy pressing open mouthed kisses to his bare shoulders, over his collar bone, the skin of his neck. Levi tilts his head back ever so slightly, arching his back as you trail your fingers, feather-light, down his spine. How desperately you want to leave marks there on the column of his throat, not as an act of possession, but to serve as a reminder of this moment for you to look back on tomorrow morning when the two of you must get up and dressed before sunrise. To watch him anxiously adjust his collar, making sure to hide the evidence from any wandering eyes.
Breaking away from him, you drop your gaze down to observe the wet spot seeping through the front of his underwear. You take a minute to admire the product of your ministrations, before bringing a finger to trace the dampness there. He gasps, head falling forward and bangs flopping over his eyes.
“Don’t tease, damn it…please” he breathes, shakily against your ear. “I want you.”
“I can tell.” You chuckle. Deciding against waiting any longer, you hook your index finger into the waistband of his underwear, pulling it forward to let his cock spring up against his lower belly, smearing that slick wetness below his navel, before letting go and watching it snap against his length like a rubber band. He jumps, surprised at the sting. “Hah…ouch!”
“I want these off too.”
He lifts once again to kick off the final layer, leaving him fully exposed, returning to you to present himself at your mercy. His tongue is poking through his lips as he watches you curiously, as if to try and predict your next course of action.
You place a hand on his hip, smoothing a thumb over the bone and gazing up at him lovingly. Your other hand finds its way to his stomach, open palm and fingers splayed, running it all the way up to his chest and up to his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you.
“You’re so beautiful, every inch of you, I’m enamored by it all. You know that?” He rolls his eyes, and you wrap your other hand around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly.
“Hnn..ah!” He chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You know that, Levi?” He nods, frantically, and you’re unsure if he even remembers what you’re asking, his body is melting into you, hunching forward. Chuckling softly, you begin to slowly slide your hand up and down, languidly. Thumb circling his tip every so often, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft.
Levi lets his head fall against your shoulder, huffing against your neck, his rib cage expanding and contracting with every breath. You trace over his chest, over his peaked nipple, pinching and rolling it gently between your thumb and forefinger as you continue to stroke him off, and his breath catches in his throat.
“F-fuck~” he whimpers out, jaw slackening as you speed up your pace and tighten your grip. His hips lurch forward and his hands are searching for something to hold onto, settling on gripping the back of your chair with white knuckles, snaking his other arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him, almost in a hug. You can feel his abdominal muscles beginning to tense, and you slow your pace, but Levi isn’t willing to wait any longer. His hand falls from the back of your chair to grab onto your wrist.
Holding it steady, he begins thrusting his hips forward, fucking your hand like it’s sheer instinct. Any other time, you’d stop him, but seeing him so fucked out and desperately humping into your closed fist is what prevents you from doing so. This isn’t something you see often.
Levi is dangerously close, moaning against your ear long and drawn out. Holding him close, you press your mouth against his ear and whisper “good boy, so good. You need to cum? Let go for me, ok?”
His eyes roll back, lids fluttering closed as he freezes, holding his breath for a second as his hips stutter “ah-ah oh god, fuck, i love you, i love you, i love you” he rasps out, gushing thick, creamy ropes over your fist, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as it tears through him. You smile softly at his confession and it’s timing, allowing him to guide your fist over his length to milk himself of any last drops.
And as his breathing slowly returns to normal, his tired body slumps against your own. The rain outside has begun to die down, now only a soft drizzle. You hold him there, as long as he needs, tracing shapes over the skin of his bare back. In the end though, it’s Levi who breaks the silence, whispering against your skin
“let’s get to bed, we can…uh…spend more time together there.”
Viktor general romance hcs!
🥀A/n: HES SO POOKIE I LOVE HIM‼️
🥀Cw: fluff, smut, slight angst if u squint, switch!viktor
🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion
sfw:
this man is such a workaholic, he genuinely never thought that he would fall in love
viktor is very inexperienced in the romance department, so he's definitely a little awkward at first
once he's close with someone, he definitely starts to open up to them a lot more! he'd really appreciate a partner that he can have deep, philosophical conversations with and definitely asks for your opinion on a lot of things
your a very valuable person in his life, and viktor makes sure that you know that. while he may not be great with words, his actions show that he truly cares for you
while he may not admit it, viktor loves when you complete acts of service for him or help him at all. he loves when you visit him in the lab and bring him some coffee, it always makes his day
because he works so much and spends so much time in the lab, viktor will often invite you to join him there. you two often spend hours together, just sitting in near-silence and working in tandem. viktor would love it if you got along well with jayce (and sky too but mostly jayce), you are his favorite people and he would love it if you all got along
viktor isn't the most cuddly person in the world, but he makes some exceptions for you! after a long day, he loves just melting into your embrace and having you play with his hair. viktor would spend hours just laying in your lap and rambling about hextech if he could
he's not big on pda, but he loves holding your hand. viktor holds your hand anywhere and everywhere, he always wants you as close to him as possible and he'll sometimes trace words into the back of your hand with his thumb when you are asleep. before he said "i love you" out loud, viktor probably traced it against your skin at least a million times.
viktor prefers to stay in for dates, and definitely enjoys staying up late with you. idk if they have television in the world of arcane, but it seems a little shocking that they can have giant magical teleportation portals and literal magic orbs and magic flying blimps and body enhancing drugs but haven't created a tv. so like. lets just pretend they do have television. cuz if they do, than you and viktor DEFINITELY have movie marathons and movie nights together
he loves making you little trinkets and gifts!!! whenever there is extra material leftover at the lab, viktor's first thought is to make something for you! he once made you an entire bouquet of fake flowers out of scrap metal, and told you that he would love you until the flowers withered (it would never wither cuz its made of metal ☹️). your home is practically overflowing with these little trinkets, but you REFUSE to get rid of any of them (i think i saw the flower scenario on a tiktok, but URGRHRHRH i wanna write it so... if anyone is interested... 😇)
honestly, the best time spent with viktor is in the comfort of your own home. you have a very domestic relationship, and he likes sitting with you in comfortable silence.
he'll call you pet names in zaun, even before you two are together😭
overall, viktor is genuinely such a sweetheart once he trusts you and will stay by your side no matter what
nsfw:
SWITCH LEANING SUB 🫵🫵🫵
because of his leg and overall sickness, viktor definitely prefers simpler positions that don't require a lot of physical stress
he likes having you on top of him so that he doesn't have to put pressure on his knee, and he definitely prefers not having to push himself too hard
i'd say his favorite positions would probably be you riding him, sitting on his face, lotus position, and maybe 69 or missionary too (but the last two are only on good days when he isn't in too much pain)
at first, viktor was insecure about sleeping with you because he genuinely does not think very highly of himself and didn't want you to think that he was weak or ugly :( please reassure him
ON THAT TOPIC!!! PRAISE!!!!!!
praise is literally SO important to him, while it is one of his kinks i genuinely think he appreciates it outside of the bedroom as well.
lots and lots of communication. "is this ok", "can i touch you here", type of stuff. he's very gentle with you, and obviously you are with him as well
because he wears his leg brace literally all the time, viktor has a handful of bruises and scars from the brace rubbing against his skin 24/7 (idk if he sleeps w it on tbh- im assuming not but u get the point) and he can be a little insecure about them. PLEASE kiss them and show his body a lot of affection in general
viktor isn't super vocal at first, but once he trusts you he lets out the neediest whines and moans. he curses a lot under his breath, and he has a verrryyyyy pretty fucked-out expression.
this man is a switch 100%. most of the time he subs and bottoms, but sometimes he'll dom from the bottom and very occasionally he'll dom from on top. when he's a sub i definitely see him as, like, the male version of a pillow princess. he definitely just wants to lay back and get taken care of, and will get very pouty if you do not do so. he loves being pampered and praised and he's SOOO sensitive when he's subbing. when he's in a more dominant mood, i see him getting off on your pleasure a lot more than his own. he loves fingering you, and definitely loves overstimulating you
viktor loves being marked and also marking you. he bites down on your shoulder a lot to muffle his moans, and he loves giving you hickeys. i genuinely think that's another one of his kinks as well
TOYS!!! im sorry but this man definitely has an extensive collection of sex toys you can't tell me im wrong bc im not. he isn't inexperienced by any means, but he probably got a lot of toys over the years because he just didn't really have that many partners and just wanted to try a bunch of things on his own yk? anyways, he fucking LOVES using them on you and teasing you mercilessly is definitely part of your guys' foreplay
this man has the most gorgeous hands and definitely puts them to good use‼️ you cannot tell me viktor does not have amazingly skilled hands bc your wrong. he literally does jayce told me
i don't think he's super vanilla but i also don't think he's into like SUPER hardcore bdsm? i think it would intrigue him but he's probably the type to be into what you are into and if you want to try something new, he's more than willing (as long as its safe. either of you getting seriously hurt is a major nono for him). that being said, i don't think he'd mind being handcuffed or experimenting a bit with shibari, but you guys DEFINITELY have a safeword. like even if you have 100% vanilla soft sex he still establishes a safeword with u and makes sure your comfortable.
overall, his kinks include: praise (giving and receiving), little bit of edging (receiving), overstimulation (only giving), marking, and kind of a wildcard but also maybe somnophilia. like he would NOT complain about waking up to head lmao- he's def the type to have wet dreams i want to write this omg
i am so! tired!!! still feeling very crappy but i am pushing through my classes until the end of the year 😭 i am so close and yet so far 🙂↕️
ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYED!!! FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ARCANE REQUESTS!!! ive also been on a huge jayce x viktor streak lately? im not usually a big shipper but their dynamic intrigues me. i want to put them in a jar together and shake them around a bit. but yea i love them both!!!
Little spoon Talis❤️
౨ৎ HAIKYUU BOYS AS TWITTER PORN PACK ౨ৎ
characters: (Sub!) Hinata, Yamaguchi, Nishinoya, Asahi, Kageyama, Akaashi, Bokuto, Oikawa, and Suna!!
a/n: HIIII ermm since i forgot how to write, i might as well give u hq boys as my fave twt porn videos LOL. uhh there will be masturbating videos, pegging videos, spanking, etc. remember to watch these in moderation and consume sfw content on here too!!
another a/n: PLEASE let me know if a link isn’t working, there is a duplicate, etc. friendly reminder that you will have to sign in to twitter to see most of these!!
Hinata: video video video video video video video video video
Yamaguchi: video video video video video video video video
Nishinoya: video video video video video video video video
Asahi: video video video video video video video
Kageyama: video video video video video video
Akaashi: video video video video video video
Bokuto: video video video video video video video
Oikawa: video video video video video video video video
Suna: video video video video
Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.
I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!
Thank youuuu
Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!
Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!
This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Midget
To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought.
To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.
Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less.
That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point.
He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you.
“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room.
“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”
“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?”
“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.
He wasn’t even convincing himself.
“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration.
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.”
“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.
"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck.
"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?"
"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you."
"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression.
"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me."
"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"
"You know exactly what you were doing, babe."
A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."
His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.
"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?"
You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps.
"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed."
"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.
He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”
You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin.
“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"
“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most.
"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."
With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically.
"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"
"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.
"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control.
“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."
A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck.
"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you.
"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."
"Adam-"
"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."
A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you.
"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch.
"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build.
"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust.
"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs.
You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.
He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply.
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”
"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“
Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place.
Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.
"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."
"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"
"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets.
Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"
Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds.
"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."
A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks.
"Oh! Oh Adam-"
Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room.
"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"
"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."
You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.
"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.
"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver.
Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks.
"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"
"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"
You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”
"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.
"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise.
Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders.
He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.
"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.
"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me."
You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust.
Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace.
He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame.
"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore."
You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."
“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises.
A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.
Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it.
"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."
"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."
You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.
"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."
He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could.
"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."
You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.
"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead.
"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."
"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.”
Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud.
With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.
“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.”
“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”
“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent.
“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.”
He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”
“We’re disgusting.”
“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”
tomura with a voice kink. having you talk to him so he can get off. he'll call whenever. sometimes, he'll call when you're mad at him, so he can imagine you degrading him and insulting him. he tries to hide it, but he really can't. he doesn't want to. he wants you to know he's pathetically humping his pillow, rutting his cock into the fleshlight...
maybe you do know. maybe you like hearing the small whine in his voice when you say you're hanging up when he's about to cum. his feeble attempts to keep you on the phone so he can cum, but you already hung up and he has to spend the next god knows how long trying to get off without your voice.
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