Tbh I Cried When They Let The Dogs Out Because I Didn’t Want Them To Die And My Dad Called Me Dramatic

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🏮 sub!gojo x dom!reader 🏮 strapping mr super annoying (read: pathetic) six eyes

Just thinking about how Gojo is, simply put, really annoying…

How even when you’re fucking he just won’t shut up. Poking and prodding you with taunts as you ride him, that you’re going too slow or too fast, that he’s in a rush and doesn’t have all day or that he isn’t looking to make a new olympic record for the fastest round. Even when you gag him, his own blindfold shoved messily into his mouth, it’s like he speaks with his hands. Pushing and pulling you every which way—forcing your hips to move under his strong grip or tugging your head down and baring his neck in the hopes you’ll get the message to bite at the skin there.

Satoru maintains his flurry of babbling words and annoyingly insistent hands every single time—without fail. Desperate, you’ve tried anything you could think of to knock him down a few pegs; he’s been gagged and bound and hit and degraded. But nothing seems to disrupt the banter he likes to keep up even when the timing is totally inappropriate. He never seems to care—even enjoys it, you’d venture. A cheeky, arrogant smirk gracing his face whenever he sees you getting frustrated at him—your barbed, exasperated words only riling him up or encouraging him.

That is, until you tried strapping him.

He kept up his stream of antagonising remarks through you kissing him and forcing him to lay back onto the bed, through bending his legs as you move to kneel between them. All up until your curious fingers began prodding at him, smoothing over his entrance. Satoru protests, moving to sit up and laughing awkwardly to try and regain the upper hand.

Relax. Trust me.

The breath catches in his chest when you first sink a finger into him, feeling along his walls curiously. An addicting red flush spilling over his cheeks and down his chest. And by the time you’ve got three fingers inside him, squelching noisily and scissoring when you thrust in, he’s keening under you. Hands scrabbling for purchase on the soft bedsheets below him and head tipping back to whine in embarrassment. No trace of the annoying sorcerer you’ve become so intimately acquainted with to be found.

And god, when you raise yourself up on your knees, drizzling lube onto your strap and stroking along the length—it’s like he’s gone mute. So entirely enraptured as he watches your fingers spread the sticky liquid, throat bobbing nervously.

The only sound you hear from him when you press into him, forcing him to take inch by inch of you until you’re snug against him, is Satoru whining, a breathy oh fuck that tangles in a high-pitched moan. It’s like he’s been possessed—or maybe you have, determined to hear more as you pull out before snapping back in, hard. Listening to how the air is punched out of him.

And as you fuck into him, your pace punishing in every right—elated at this newfound silence after suffering for so long—he writhes under you. Utterly gone. His face red and splotchy, and tears clumping at his lash line that spill over on a particularly rough thrust. A slurring string of keening, desperate noises dripping from his lips, only interrupted as you force him up the bed when you rut into him.

Satoru’s ah ah ah devolving into fuuu-nghh when you hit his prostrate, slamming into it without remorse. His abdomen quivering and back arching, lips red and swollen with how he’s biting them. And when you balance yourself, reaching a hand to roughly fist his dick in time with your hips, he sobs, voice jumping as he comes—release painting his stomach and tears streaming down his temples, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

You grip his waist firmly, digging your fingers in as you help him ride it out so that he may be left with a bruise. A reminder tomorrow—of how you quite literally fucked Satoru’s snarky words right out of him.

Dumb thing that would not leave my brain

↳ 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗱𝗲 - 𝗢𝗶𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝗧𝗼𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

summary: where oikawa gets you jealous by entertaining his fan club and you teach him a lesson

pairings: brat!oikawa x athelete! fem! reader

warning: smut, 18+, edging, sub!oikawa, praise kink, orgasm denial, voyerism, cumming in clothes, just filth. (not proofread, will do it later:))

main masterlist !

oikawa stood on the court surrounded by his usual troupe of fangirls, his signature smirk firmly in place. they were all gathered around him, chattering excitedly and trying to get his attention.

he was used to having them all over him, but sometimes it got a little tiresome. in the midst of the chattering and giggling, oikawa caught sight of you watching from the stands where you were seated and leaned back.

his breath hitched at the sight of you. he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

you were sitting in the stands, wearing your team's jersey and shorts, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin.

the tight shorts hugged your thighs, accentuating their plump, velvety softness, the hem stopping halfway up your thighs, leaving little to the imagination. The way the shorts outlined your curves made Oikawa's mouth go dry, and he couldn't help but stare at the way they clung to your body, drawing attention to your alluring thighs.

your chest glistened with a fine layer of sweat, and the heat of the day and your recent practice left you flushed. your legs were spread wide and you were leaning back in your seat.

your cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue, and your mouth was parted as you took a sip from your water bottle.

you looked relaxed and comfortable in your own skin, completely unaware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend.

oikawa wanted to approach you, to touch you, to taste you. but he was frozen in place, unable to move as he watched you with wide eyes.

you kept your eyes locked on him; your lips closed around the mouth of the water bottle, taking a long drink.

oikawa's eyes zeroed in on your mouth, watching the way your lips moved, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.

he could feel himself getting aroused at the sight before him.

but you on the other hand, weren't so pleased with your view. how could you be, when your boyfriend was being hoarded by his fan club?

you had hurried from your practice to visit your boyfriend in the gymnasium, and here he was, amidst the company of his fangirls.

one of the girls hugged him and he reciprocated it my patting her back.

you shot him a stern stare, the message in your eyes clear: "you're pushing it."

oikawa could feel the excitement bubbling within him, the thrill of defying you and indulging in the adoration of his fangirls almost too tempting to resist.

he knew he was playing with fire, but the thought of it made his heart race.

as you lowered the water bottle from your lips, you glanced up and spotted iwaizumi heading your way, sending him a genuine smile.

oikawa watched as iwaizumi kissed your forehead in affection and bid you farewell, carrying his gym bag.

after he was done with satiating his fangirls, he sauntered towards the stands where you were seated.

"enjoyed the show, sweetheart?" he teased.

big mistake. you glared up at him through your lashes.

oikawa chuckled as he saw the annoyed look on your face. he knew that you didn't like his fangirls surrounding him, but he couldn't help but enjoy the attention they gave him.

without a reply, you patted the empty seat next to you, indicating for him to sit and he did.

you rested your free hand on his bare thigh, thumb circling his knee.

oikawa shivered slightly at your possessive touch, the heat from your fingers seeping through the fabric of his shorts.

he swallowed hard, feeling a mix of guilt and desire coursing through his veins.

he knew he was in trouble, but the way your touch felt on his skin was intoxicating. he desperately wanted to lean into your hand, to have you closer to him.

"did you have fun, sweetheart?" you set your water bottle down on the floor.

oikawa chuckled at your snarky question. he knew you were talking about his fangirls being all over him, and he knew that it bothered you.

"i'm always having fun," he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance. "What's not fun about having plenty of cute girls hanging all over you?"

you gripped his thigh in warning.

oikawa couldn't help but gasp, feeling your dominating touch. he leaned in closer to you, his voice low and sultry, "jealous, are we?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"don't test me, my love," you warned, caressing his thigh, "or do you want me to fuck that attitude outta you?"

oikawa shuddered. he knew you only used that term of endearment when you got possessive and territorial.

he put up his hands in mock surrender, a smile playing on his lips, "alright, alright. i'll behave," he said, trying to appease you.

"but u didn't, did you?" you inched your hand up.

his breath hitched as your hand moved up his thigh, stopping just millimeters away from his crotch.

he swallowed, his eyes widening and tried to compose himself, "no," he breathed with parted lips, his voice a little shaky, "I didn't behave."

oikawa leaned closer to you, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. he could feel your touch becoming more daring, more possessive.

"what? want one of your fangirl to join us?" you scoffed in defiance.

oikawa's eyes widened at your words, a mix of surprise and embarrassment on his face, his cheeks flushing bright red at the thought.

"n-no!" he stuttered, a look of shock and horror on his face, "what are you talking about? i don’t want any of them to join us! I want you, only you!"

you cupped him through his shorts, feeling his bulge grow slowly, "you sure?" you squeezed his cock lightly in emphasis.

oikawa let out a low moan as you squeezed him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. he swallowed, his voice weak as he responded.

"y-yes, i'm sure," he stuttered. "i only want you. no one else,"

you leaned up and smooched his jaw, "good boy,"

oikawa let out a soft moan, his body melting under your touch. he loved it when you praised him like that, it made him feel wanted and desired.

oikawa quickly caught your wrist as a thought struck him, "babe, w-won't, ah," he inhaled sharply, "won't somebody see us? we can't do this here,"

"no," you stated confidently, "the shadows of the gym falls right over us, so, from the volleyball court, we're practically out of eyesight,"

using your fingers, you traced the outline of his bulge through the material of his shorts, the material leaving nothing to the imagination.

"no one's gonna catch us, and i'm gonna teach you a fucking lesson,"

oikawa's chest heaved a little as he tried to control his breathing. he knew he was in trouble now, and he couldn't deny that he was enjoying it.

"a lesson?" he asked, his voice a little shaky, "what kind of lesson, my love?"

"the kind that you get when you're being a brat," you ghosted you index finger over the head of his hardness, causing him to grip the armrest of the bleachers hard.

oikawa knew he was in the wrong for letting his fangirls get so close to him, especially after knowing how much it bothered you.

he knew he should have set stronger boundaries, but he had been enjoying the attention they gave him.

he looked at you, his expression sheepish. "i'm sorry, my love," he said, his voice soft, "it won't happen again,"

"tsk tsk," you tutted, fingers at the base of his crotch, teasing through his shorts still, "sorry doesn't cut it. this is what you get for being a brat,"

the touch of your fingers was driving him crazy, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to control himself.

you stroked your palm over his shorts with the right amount of pressure as the cloth provided the needed friction.

oikawa let out a soft, needy moan as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his body pressed against yours as if he were trying to mold himself into you.

to an outsider, it would simply look like an adorable gesture of affection.

but you knew better. you knew that he was deep in subspace, and that he was completely at your mercy.

"please," he groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the seat so tightly his knuckles were turning white, "please, darling. i’m trying so hard to be good for you but I don’t know how much longer i can hold back,"

he mouth at the column of your neck, tongue tracing up as he tasted your sweat as a result of your practice session. he continued to place wet languid kisses on your neck, mouthing pathetically.

you sighed, pleased with his actions. you increased the pace of your strokes, muttering promises that you'd fulfill for the stunt he pulled.

"you sit back nice and pretty for me, while I'll have you come undone for me over and over and over again until you're nothing but a crying mess," you muttered against his temple, gripping his clothed cock.

"and then," you kissed his temple, "i'd fuck some sense into you so you'd know not to go your merry little way and get me jealous,"

"yes," he groaned out, his voice filled with need. "please, make me a mess. let me come undone for you. i’ll do anything, just let me touch you. i need you, darling. i need you so badly. i’ll be such a good boy, I promise," he blubbered, pulling back from your neck to gaze at you.

you hummed in appreciation, increasing the pace of your strokes.

oikawa's breathing picked up as you rubbed his length faster, his body trembling as he focused on your touch. he closed his eyes, his head falling back with a gasp, "i’m close," he breathed out, his voice shaky, "please…please don’t stop, darling."

you raised your brows, "already?" you slowed your movements, just as he was about to come.

he nodded, leaned his head on your shoulder, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. he couldn’t believe how much your touch was affecting him, "i can’t help it," he admitted, his voice strained. "your touch…it’s driving me crazy, ahh"

he clung to you, his body pressed against yours as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to him.

"babe," he murmured, his voice desperate and needy, "please don’t be mad at me. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. just keep touching me, hnngg,"

oikawa resumed snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. his kisses were sloppy and desperate, his lips moving hungrily over the skin of your neck.

he was practically leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from your collarbone to your jawline, his tongue tracing a path behind his lips as he let out soft, needy moans.

i turned my head in his direction, my mouth a breath away from his.

oikawa’s eyes were lidded with desire, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he stared at you.

he was desperate to feel your lips on his, to taste your mouth, to feel your tongue against his. he was completely lost in the moment, his mind a haze of need and want.

"uh, darling," he slurred, "kiss me, please,"

you complied with his wish and pressed your mouth to his, teeth digging into his soft plump lips.

oikawa let out a low moan as your lips crashed against his, his body arching into yours as you kissed him hard. he returned the kiss with just as much fervor, his tongue eagerly seeking entry into your mouth.

the bite startled him, but he didn’t pull away, instead, he let out a soft whimper, submitting completely to your possessive bite.

when your tongue soothed the burn of the bite, he sucked it into his mouth, his body curving into yours.

you parted your lips better to give him access, humming in delight.

oikawa felt himself spasm as he came, letting out a soft gasp as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. his face was buried in its place against your neck, his breath coming out in labored gasps.

he was utterly embarrassed by the fact that he had come just from a kiss, and he buried his face further into your skin, not wanting you to see him.

"please don’t laugh at me," he murmured, his voice soft, "i couldn’t help it, you just…you make me feel so good," he stammered, trying to explain himself, "i can’t help how my body reacts to you,"

you chuckled darkly, holding his face to your neck, "shh, my love," you soothed, "s'alright,"

oikawa’s face burned in embarrassment, his body trembling against you. his shorts were soiled with his release and he could feel his legs shaking, the aftermath of his orgasm still coursing through his body. his shorts were soiled with his release and

he let out a shaky breath, his voice soft as he spoke, “sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing red, “i couldn’t help it,”

"it's okay, my beautiful," you cooed, "you made such pretty noises for me,"

oikawa’s cheeks burned even more red at your words, his heart fluttering in his chest.

no one has ever called him beautiful before, and meant it.

and the way you said it made his stomach feel like fireworks were going off. he buried his face further into your neck, embarrassed and shy, “please don’t tease me,” he mumbled, his voice soft, “i can’t handle it when you say things like that,”

"my poor baby," you babied him, gently prying off his fingers from the armrest that were in deathly grip. you raised them to your mouth, pressing a kiss to each digit.

oikawa’s face turned even redder and his heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. he was completely under your spell, his mind fuzzy with affection and desire.

he gazed at you with wide, puppy-like eyes, his hand gripping yours tightly, “please…please don’t stop,” he whispered, his voice needy and desperate, “I need more of you,”

you smoothed back the hair from his forehead and assured him, "don't worry. I have plenty planned for you when we get home, love. And you're not going to be able to get away from me."

oikawa's breath hitched at the authoritative tone in your voice. he knew he was in for a long night and couldn't wait to be completely under your control.

You don't know why gojo is staring at you with tears pooled up in his beautiful aquamarine eyes.

You really didn't!

After all, you only said four words.

And now here he was, staring at you with a kicked puppy of a face, tears rolling down his cheeks and a over-exaggerated look of pure hopelessness slapped across his face.

"Y/N, my beloved, please don't break up with me, I can't do this again!"

You stare at him.

He stares at you, pleading with his eyes, a almost desperate, undertone layering his now hoarse voice.

"Please. I can't do this again, I can't have someone I love leave me again!"

"Bu-"

"And after suguru left, I can't seem to find myself, I only found home with you and only you! please, please I'm begging you don't do this to me-!"

And here you were, holding up a crying Gojo, holding up the 'strongest' as he wailed into your shoulder, staining your shirt with tears and snot.

"I'm not leaving you, 'toru, I promise."

"......I just wanted to go to KFC...."

your roommate who just can’t respect the fact that you don’t want to blur the lines between living together and having sex. you’ve told him times without number that you’d prefer to keep you guys the way you are, but he always finds a way to worm his way into your arms, whining about how sitting on his face just once won’t do either of you any harm! you roll your eyes and tell him to fuck off, which he does with a heavy pout.

but when your fingers aren’t going in as deep as you want them, and you’re bucking your hips into your hand like a dog, you’re starting to consider those words carefully. so you reach over to grab your phone and text him.

you: are you sure if we do this just once you’ll let it be?

read 11:47pm

you groan, what the hell are you doing? it’s too late to reason, because he’s bursting through your door, panting and shirtless as his eyes zero in on your spread legs. his smile is sultry as he steps towards you.

why were you saying no to this again? your hands are flush against his chest, grinding down hard on his face as his tongue assaults your seeping hole. you’re tugging at your own nipples, crying out his name as you chase your orgasm. his grip on your hips is tight, and you’re not sure the last time he came up for air. frankly you’re not sure you care, because he’s still dutifully fucking you with that tongue and he’s showing no signs of stopping.

when you cum into his mouth, he groans hard into you. the sweet taste of your essence is almost drowning him, but he’s willing to die here for this pussy. when you slide off of him, he’s still smiling that stupid smile. you’re half tempted to slam your cunt right back on his face, but you know it’ll have the opposite effect from what you want.

"now, i can leave you here like this, like you ‘want’, or you can lay back and let me fuck you. the choice is yours, cutie.”

last week, if he even alluded to kissing you, you’d be quick to throw something at him to dismiss the statement. but as you sit now, eyes trained on the raging hard-on in his pants, you might just have to take your word back on that one.

GENSHIN IMPACT: TARTAGLIA. scaramouche. lyney. WRIOTHESLEY. kaeya.

HONKAI: STAR RAIL: aventurine. DR RATIO. boothill. jiaoqiu. JING YUAN. gallagher. SAMPO.

JUJUTSU KAISEN: gojo. SUKUNA. geto.

+ your favs!

MARKING KINK

PAIRING: sub!vi x reader

CW: kinktober | mommy kink. praise kink. fingering. cannibalism and pomegranates as a metaphor for love type of shit

Your hands cradle her face, fingers trembling with a reverence that borders on worship as Vi's eyes flit across your features, her expression soft yet full of hunger. Her lips, slightly parted, are a breath away from yours, her warm exhale teasing your skin, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. The small sighs she lets out are a quiet symphony, intoxicating you with their softness.

Your thumb hesitates over the mark on her cheek, tracing the delicate contours of the "Vi" etched there with slow, deliberate care. For a moment, your gaze lingers on it—an intimate acknowledgment of everything she is—before locking eyes with her again. Her gaze is molten, filled with need and desire as your fingers glide down her jawline, savoring the texture of her skin. You follow the curve of her lips, your touch feather-light, until they part slightly in response, inviting you in.

You hover, just close enough to feel the heat of her breath against your thumb, the sensation pulling you deeper into the moment. Finally, you close the distance, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens into something more raw, more primal. Your saliva mingles, the taste of her sending a spark straight through your core.

Your thighs press against hers, anchoring you to her lap as her hands wander beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing over your skin with a desperation that matches your own. She grips you as if afraid you might slip away, her nails digging into your back, the sensation sharp but grounding. Her touch becomes more urgent, tracing patterns over your lower back, down your thighs, as if memorizing the feel of you.

Your hips grind into her, the motion slow but deliberate, each movement perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your tongues, swirling together in an unspoken dance. Your hands slide to the back of her neck, tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, needing her closer. The kiss turns frantic, messy, full of passion and heat, the wet sounds filling the space between you.

Vi's mouth opens wider, a moan escaping her as she struggles to form words between kisses, her need palpable. There's something desperate in the way she holds you, something almost pleading in her touch. She clings to you, her breath ragged, her body tense with how much she craves you. She needs to feel every part of you, to taste you, to keep you as close as she possibly can. If she could devour you, she would—just to keep you with her.

It doesn’t take long before Vi’s mind dissolves into a haze, her thoughts slipping away, her body yielding entirely to the overwhelming need to have you. She’s desperate—aching to feel you, to be consumed by you, to become one with you. The hunger between you is raw, feral, and all she can muster is a soft, pleading "Please..." But before she can say more, your lips crash into hers, silencing her with a kiss full of fervor. You don’t need her words; the only sounds you want are those sweet, helpless moans that escape her lips, delicate and needy, meant for you alone.

Her voice trembles as she repeats, “Please,” her breath catching in her throat, and it’s enough to make you pull back, abandoning her lips to explore lower, letting your desire lead the way. Your hands slide down her neck, tracing her chest, feeling the heat of her skin as your fingers squeeze the soft, bare flesh beneath them. You savor the vulnerability she offers so freely, every touch claiming her in ways that words never could.

Your teeth graze her neck, nipping at her skin, the sharpness of your bite sending shivers through both of you. She arches into it, her body offering itself with every tremor, and the soft gasp that escapes her lips drives you further. You relish in the slight sting that blooms where your mouth lingers, her skin slowly turning shades of red beneath your touch. You’re painting her in your colors—red, violet, green—the hues of her pleasure and pain blending in perfect harmony. It's as if each bite, each mark, is a testament to how deeply you crave her, how much you need to claim every inch of her.

Your fingers trail down her stomach, nails dragging lightly over her skin, leaving faint, tantalizing scratches in their wake. Her body responds eagerly, her stomach rising to meet your touch, aching for more—more pain, more pleasure, more of you. Every breath she takes is shallow, trembling, as you push her further into the realm of sensation, your lips never straying far from her neck, leaving a trail of kisses, licks, and bites that burn in the most exquisite way. You mark her shoulders, her collarbone, branding her with your love, until all that's left is the red of her skin, each spot a declaration of your hunger for her.

Your hands dig into her sides, pressing into her with an intensity that borders on possessiveness. You pull her closer, your nails raking down her back, feeling the heat radiate from her body as she melts beneath your touch. The soft cries that spill from her lips—those quiet, trembling sounds of pain and pleasure—are the sweetest music to your ears. Each plea for more, each whispered “Please,” only fuels your desire, pushing you to touch her deeper, to bite harder, to leave no part of her untouched by your love.

The need to rip her apart, to tear her open and devour her, courses through you like wildfire. It’s all-consuming, and she feels it too, her body surrendering to the same madness, the same longing. Vi’s hands find their way to you, pulling at your clothes, stripping you bare, leaving you just as exposed, just as vulnerable as she is. She’s frantic, desperate to touch you, to feel you under her hands, her nails mimicking yours as they dig into your back, dragging up your spine, grazing the nape of your neck.

Together, you lose yourselves in the heat of it all—biting, touching, loving each other with a fierceness that words can never capture. It’s a storm of pleasure and pain, an endless cycle of need that neither of you can escape, as if no matter how much you take from each other, it’s never enough. You both savor the way you hurt, the way you love, lost in the beautiful chaos of it all.

“Gonna be good?” you murmur softly, your lips hovering in the valley between her breasts, each word a brush of heat against her skin as you move lower. Your eyes flick up to meet hers, watching the way her breath catches in her throat, the delicate knot of tension that forms between her brows, pulling them into a soft frown. The way her nose scrunches slightly adds to the tenderness of it all—this woman, so big, so strong, so fierce, and yet here with you, she’s something else entirely. Vulnerable, open, beautiful in her quiet surrender.

“Yes…” she breathes, her voice steady and sure despite the overwhelming emotions building between you. There’s a confidence in the way she nods, a promise. She’ll always be good for you, always what you need—gentle if that’s what you desire, or rough if that’s what you crave. For you, she’ll be anything. She’s yours, every part of her, waiting for you to decide.

You give her a slow nod in return, a silent acknowledgment, before your fingers leave the soft curve of her stomach, traveling lower, tracing the powerful lines of muscle that define her thighs. The way her body responds to your touch—her thighs parting instinctively, inviting you in—is intoxicating. Your fingers move gently, caressing her with soft, lingering strokes, each one full of reverence for the woman beneath you.

Your lips follow, pressing warm kisses against the firm flesh of her stomach, retracing the path of red and purple marks that bloom under your mouth. Every kiss, every touch, is a brand of love, desire, and something deeper. You paint her skin with your affection, each press of your lips a reminder that she is yours, that this moment belongs to both of you.

You move yourself up again, intertwining your legs with hers and pressing- aligning your bodies as your arm comes in between fo be the little and only separation. "Breathe, be good for mommy" your voice hits the delicate of her face, and she obbeys with a nod. The breath that was about to hit your skin suddenly cut by your fingers in between the wet of her thighs. Small circles rubbed against her clit that turn her into a mess, desperate and hungry and turning her brain into nothing but you.

The little gasp that leaves her lips is the prettiest sound that could ever exist. And they just keep on longing and coming out more and more and more each time the pads of your fingers follow a new pattern, a new speed. Each time you press harder on her, each time her hand grasps deep into the flesh of your lower back to keep you closer. Each time she feels the need in your own body, simply pressed over her- it's not enough. "Violet..."she needs you. "Please...." Her pretty lips are parted open, hitting the skin of your neck directly, those eyes that shine with a hungry adoration now looking up at you, unless the pleasure blinds her and commands her to close them. She wants to look at you, to remember if you're ever gone.

"My pretty girl" your fingers scissor her folds, playing with the slick of them, the wet that you've created with little nothing. Her moans cut, bucking her hips up as it that'll give her any more friction. It doesn't.

You can sense the pain of it, the craving. Your free hand comes to brush the pretty red strands of hair aside, pressing a kiss on her forehead to cup at her cheek briefly, leading her closed eyed face to kiss you once again. But she can't, she needs to breathe and grasp for air in between those small cries. "Mommy..." it was meant to be another quiet plead, but her mind felt overwhelmed and it became a gasp, a loud desperate plead.

You finally slid your fingers, curling them with ease. "So wet for me, mhm?" her hips moved at an instant, following your rhythm. It was too much, how your fingers were curling so deliciously inside her. The wetness and obscene sounds filling the space between both along those pretty whines you adored. Her stomach clenched at the pure sound of your voice, your quiet praises and guidance. Her fingers gripped tightly at the fat of your hips, letting the pleasure invade both your bodies.

"Cum for me babe" you asked her, grabbing her pretty face once again. Your hand coming dampened after each thrust into her pussy, ridiculously wet. "Can't- Can't, fuck-"

TAGLIST | kinktober: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @prwttiestbunny

vi's taglist: @tlouloser @ilovetaylorrr @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @crispers @softlikesilk-chiffon

UHM UR SO REAL FOR THIS⁉️⁉️

living for rival lute rn, i need her biblically

URHRHR MAYBE SOMETHING WITH RIVAL LUTE REALIZING SHES IN LOVE W READER BC SHE KEEPS THINKING ABOUT READER, LIKE EVEN IN HEAVEN?? like reader lives in her mind RENT FREE, even when it isn't even extermination day.

and if u want to make it smutty, maybe something about lute masturbating to the thought of reader and only being able to cum from thinking about reader bc reader is the only one she wants.... 😇

cause in the night I know you burn with feelings —

warnings — weird angsty masturbation, afab reader implied, actually this whole thing is sapphic coded, enemies to lovers, emphasis on enemies

a/n — One-sided radiostatic, who? You and Lute do it better.

summary — While waiting for the next extermination day, Lute gets off at the thought of seeing her sinner rival once again.

DISCLAIMER!!! This is going with my rival!Lute au involving a sinner reader. Basically, if you didn’t read any of the other ones (you don’t need to) there’s basically just a battle dealing of sexual tension every extermination day.

It’s not often Lute gives into temptation. It’s not like she can’t. I mean, the act itself isn’t inherently a sin, so she could any time. But she doesn’t and there’s a simple reason for that.

Tonight specifically, she’s feeling particularly needy. However, she recalls what happened the last time she touched herself. Well, what she was thinking of, more like. But it had worked, hadn’t it? They were just thoughts, it’s not like she was committing a crime.

Breathing a sigh, her hand creeps between her thighs and tugs her panties to the side. She was going to relieve herself, but she wouldn’t let her mind wonder to thoughts of you.

One finger in. You, a sinner from hell who’s incomprehensibly skilled at fighting. You, who drives her mad with anger each extermination day. I mean, she just could never best you. Two fingers. You with your muscular build, and your gracefully purposeful movements. Not to mention your skills in handling a weapon.

Three fingers. And the way your body glistened, slick with sweat in the heat of battle. The way you press up against Lute before delivering a terrible blow.

Four. Your smirk when realizing how well you’re keeping up with an angel, and how it grows into a sinister grin at the look on Lutes face.

And all of a sudden, Lutes struggling to keep up, to block your blows when paired with your flirtatious comments. And then you trip her up and she falls flat on her ass, gazing up at you and your shit eating grin.

Her fingers move faster and her breath gets heavy. Oh, what she would give to wipe that smug smile off your perfect face. What she would give to make you pay for it.

To trip you up. To make you feel like this. Lute let’s out little winces of pleasure as she fucks into herself with her pussy. Yet, her anger rises. You, a pitiful demon, was the reason she was getting off. That’s blasphemous, and vile. But it wasn’t her fault.

Just like it was her fault when whines escaped her throat at the thought of you getting off to her like this. Do you? If your comments were true during battle, improbable but possible, then for all Lute knew, you could be sitting in hell with your legs spread… playing with your pussy as sweat pricks your forehead.

She moans loudly, too loudly. God, she hated you. She hated you so much she’d give anything to beat you into the ground, or into the mattress. To have you begging for mercy, god, what would she give?

Or fuck, even the other way around would work. You were a vile, sinful, hateful little creature, and yet, as her climax drew nearer, it was harder to deny how much she needed you. Every insult, every meaningless attempt to come onto her, every god forsaken smile of victory when another extermination day passes without your defeat, lead Lute to throw her head back into the mattress.

She hated you, she knew that, just as well as you. But, as she released all over her fingers, it was impossible to say she didn’t want you. At least a little bit.

a/n — that song is so my rival!Lute au. Anyways, Lute might be a little real for this.

strained

nerd!choso who is so unknown at school that people go, “who?” when he’s mentioned. you’re pretty sure that only five people knew who he even was.

nerd!choso who is most definitely the president of some club like chess or dead poets society. he saw you at the club fair and fell in love

he thinks he went to heaven when you approach his table at club rush. yuji, although not in chess, was helping choso recruit people since his poor brother was too shy to talk to anyone. you go up to your friend yuji, making small talk with him.

“i’ve never played chess, yuji”, you giggled

“my brother can teach you!”

you glanced over at choso, not even noticing him at first. he was.. pretty. not pretty as in a way your friends would giggle at you when they saw you in a new outfit, not pretty as in the comments you got under your instagram post, but he was a natural beauty.

yuji had to snap you out of it. of course he noticed though, the way you two looked at each other.

nerd!choso who teaches you how to play chess, not letting the two other members of the small club play with you.

nerd!choso who helps you study, helps you carry textbooks, and helps you with midterms and any exams you have.

nerd!choso who has a nosebleed when you give him a small peck on the cheek when he finally confesses to you after months of pining for you.

you two had been studying in his dorm, comfortable with each other as your head was leaning against his shoulder as you two relished in each other’s presence.

“i like you.”

“oh! i like you t—“

“no. i like you.”

you turn to him. a small smile creeping onto your face. you didn’t say anything, only pressing a short kiss on his cheek. he immediately freezes up, his hands turning clammy and sweaty.

“i—uh..”

then, a trickle of blood comes from his nose, dripping onto his cupid’s bow.

“oh my god, cho!”, you gasped as you jump up, running to grab a tissue from his nightstand where he also kept a picture of you two and a bottle of lotion

you leaned in, wiping his nose attentively. as you chide and nurse him while mumbling, choso can’t help but stare down to take a peep at your tank top. he could see the valley of your boobs and the top of your bra. he choked, letting out a startled gasp before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he knocked out cold on the spot

nerd!choso who keeps a special picture of you in his wallet. he’ll be at his chess club meetings, at lectures, out with his family, and he keeps a hand on his wallet, knowing you’re in there.

the picture was a polaroid he took with your camera, your eyes were just out of frame but he could see a portion of your fucked out face, his cum dripping from your mouth and splattered on your cheeks. you were completely naked and sprawled out on his bed in his childhood home

it was almost funny how a hot goddess of a girl was naked, covered in his cum, and sprawled out, pussy on display on his old lego ninjago bedsheets.

nerd!choso who dedicates every single one of his orgasms to you. if you were with him, he’d find a way to cum inside you. in your mouth or your pussy, he’s find a way inside. of course, he’d also opt for cumming on your tits or on your face, he wasn’t greedy. but what he really wants, is to cum inside your cute little ass! he’s too shy to ask, of course, but the day would come eventually

if you weren’t here though, he’d pull up his personal secret album for you, filled photos and videos with shots of under your skirt, through the crack of your bedroom, from your window, when you just walking around with a tank top. he loved it all.

but his favorites were videos you’d allowed him to take while he was fucking you from the back or in missionary. he loved watching them on repeat, never getting bored of them. after a while, he gained the courage to show you as well.

you checked your phone to see a notification from your boyfriend and gasped when you opened it.

it was an image of the picture he kept of you beside his bed, covered in his semen. in the corner of the photo was his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

‘i miss you 🖤’

lucifer trying to complete the eden collection:

It was at that moment that he knew, he fucked up.