Latest Posts by bluberrimuffintop - Page 2

erm .....!

callout post!!!! every nanami fucker seeks academic validation before anything else.

dear god hes so fine

OSCAR ISAAC ARROWED (2012) dir. Elvira Lind

he just devours your pussy till it falls off da bone 🤭

Choso once made a joke when he was eating you out that licking the cum from your pussy was like licking the frosting off a cupcake, and now his pet name for you is ‘cupcake.’ When your friends hear him call you that they think it’s just a cute, endearing nickname, but Choso looks at you with a shit-eating grin because he knows just hearing him say “Hey cupcake” makes you wet.

Betrayed by the game - Dance Gavin Dance 😻

ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

Uhm??? HELPPP?????

Facebook wins

i feel so burnt out and my sleep schedule's fuuuucked :(

yk i used to check on dad!ghost fanfics and it wasn't that much UNTIL you posted the dad!ghost render 😭😭😭 thank you so much for giving the writers baby fever bcs i love soft dad simon 🥹🩷

@just-mint-to-be @bluberrimuffintop @sobasicallyimpoppee I added you all to one post, I hope you don't mind But thank you guys! I still can't believe how many people like my "dad!Ghost" series. I feel like I've caused mass baby fever in the CoD fandom. This is crazyyyy haha

I don't know why but just want to show his domestic side, because I know that Simon would be a good parent. I have a feeling that because of his childhood trauma (from comics) he would do literally anything to be father he always wanted to have.

And yes, I noticed that too! Before my renders, I think I literally read every fic with dad!Ghost, and after posting them, there's a lot of new content. I LOVE IT and I'm glad that my silly idea inspired others♥

i jus fainted

· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081

MDNI, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.

Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.

The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.

So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.

“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.

You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.

Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.

“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.

Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.

“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.

You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.

Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.

As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.

“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.

Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”

Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged

ﾟ•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.

i’m sad -> i look at images of my ~40 year old man of choice -> i twirl my hair and kick my legs -> i think crazy thoughts -> i feel okay -> rinse repeat

Intro to Mineralogy is nottttt makiiingggg senseeeeee 😮‍💨

is this what i get for hyperfixating on steven universe when i was 12 ....

i just wanted to see pretty gems !! not !!! this !!!!

when you think of it, there's nothing more attractive than body hair.

i fell to my knees at a walmart .......

(i don't have Walmart in my country)

HES SO FINE....

The Nanami scenes in the new jjk episode have me falling to my knees🛐

your header cracks me up

lets make out like rn

it's the bisexual curse pasi 😓😓

all i talk about is pussy😭

whatever they said 😫

against a mirror, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, prone bone, full nelson, outside, in the rooftop, in the train, on a plane, on the bed, on the couch, bent over the kitchen counter, by the fireplace, against the wall, in the shower, on the floor, in the basement, against the window, in the car

aaaa A aa AA AAA A A A AAAAAAA AAAA AAAA AAAAAAAA

i wanna call ellie my pretty girl and then have her call me a pretty girl back (after and during passionate lesbian scissoring) gahhhhh

(not my photos, c: randomaestheticsss, tlouphotographer and ellies_switchblade on insta)

reading this fic for breakfast rn and i-

ellie williams x fem reader ୨୧ ♡

use of vibrator, overstimulation, fingering, pet names, squirting, light degrading, praise kink, dumbification, bimbofication, lesbians only dpmo

drabble !! if this looks or sounds familiar, this is from my old deactivated blog @/loonadaworld ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭ i’m also still working on my english writing, pls bear w me

' you can give me another one, right angel ? ‘ she spoke softly, eyes observing you in front of her, how your face and body reacted to what she had you under. hardened tits poking through the thin material of your white top, and your panties thrown to the ground. you were on your third orgasm, making your way to the fourth. the toy's low vibration making you squirm with the overstimulation, urging you to clench your thighs. in which you did, only resulting in her hand spreading your legs back open, her other still holding the vibrator against your bud.

‘ nah, don't give me that shit, you can take it, know you can. ‘ her words making you whine with furrowed eyebrows. ‘ t's too much ellie.. can’t— ahh— ‘ she increased the pressure by one, which had cut you off as you barely choked up your words. ‘ poor baby ‘ she mouthed and only held back a smile, your legs quivering under her touch, your breath heavy but slow paced. ‘ one more, princess. just like before, don't give out on me now. " she smirked, watching the way your core would pulsate.

her hand that held your thigh apart now separating the folds of your cunt, making your hips buck. using her two fingers, she collected the slick that glistened in the moonlight from your previous orgasms. without warning, she slid her middle finger in making you gasp, the contact from the toy and her finger inside of you making you throw your head back. she watched your faces as she slowly pumped in and out of you, bringing the vibrator down one notch to it's original pressure from before. she kept her eyes on your face a bit longer, before slowly slipping in her index finger and making it two, having you jolt from pleasure you began to feel.

‘ you like this now, don't you ? already being needy, as usual. ‘ she stated as her fingers slipped in and out at an average pace halfway. not fast, not slow, but you wanted it faster. she knew you did, based on the way you were clenching around her and attempted to fuck yourself on her fingers, which you hadn't even noticed you were doing, too caught up in how good it felt. ‘ that feel good, baby ? yeah ? ‘ she teased, just five seconds ago you blabbered about it being too much and now you're working towards your peek, desperately.

‘ mm more— please, feels so good. ‘ you moaned out. a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down the side of your forehead, the temperate felt humid compared to when you first orgasmed. the tiny mewls that escaped your mouth were music to her ears. just with that, her fingers reached your spot knuckles deep. her gaze was calculated to your cunt, watching your hole clench as if wanting something more to fill it. ‘ there she is .. you close ? ‘ she averted her eyes to your face. ‘ yes, yes — ahh.. please, 'm so closeee, ‘ you're gasping, arching your back from the bed and shooting her a pleaded look out of eagerness. ‘ i got you, you look so pretty right now, you know ? ‘ she’s not asking, she tells you before the pace of her fingers quickens.

slipping in and out so easily as she turned up two notches on the toy against your puffy clit, striking the pleasure in you two times better. ‘ fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god— wanna cum, els .. 'm gonna cum — ! ‘ you squealed at the stimulation added, your walls were clenching around her digits, feeling your entire body rush with tense. ‘ such a good girl, that's it, princess. knew you could do it. ' your legs start to shake slightly, gripping the sheets tight as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten by the second. ‘ holy shittt— ‘ your lewd sounds filling the room before you're making a mess all over her fingers, she’d drilling them into you faster than she had before.

‘ fuck, you're squirting. ‘ she spoke as the cream coated her fingers each time she pumped into you, she felt her breath quiver at the sight, and oh, how she loved seeing you in this state. your cum gushing out of your tight cunt with your liquids splattering onto your thighs, the bed, the toy, including her arm. ‘ uhuh, there you go, cmon, let it all out for me, gorgeous. ‘ she cooed, she leaves you in a drenched and twitching mess, helping you through the end of your orgasm. you're panting, barely processing what just happened.

a wave of embarrassment coming over you as she moved the vibrator away from your clit and pulled her fingers out of you, clear juices immediately leaking onto the bed. ‘ fuck, i'm sorry— i didn't think that .. ‘ you were panicked, trying to get the right words to come out. ' there’s no reason to be sorry. if anything, you did better than good, baby. ‘ she looked up at you, noticing that her comment made you flustered as she huffed a laugh, reaching over and giving you a peck on the lips.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.

imma be SO inappropriate rn

You can trust him, he's a good guy...

I chaaaanged my look!! I'm not really active here until recently and I just felt it's high time i started interacting on Tumblr more since my semester exams are gonna end soon 🧟

IM FUCKING SCREAMSINV

The fucking amazing combination of the emotional pining, the hot spicy moments and absolute tooth rotting fluff

I just love love love how fleshed out each character is, and how Izuku is so.. He's so..Husband, like I swear we actually got married 😝 RARWRARWRAR

This is such a gorgeous package of a fic!!!

⠀ ⠀ ℐℱ 𝒪ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒢ℰ 𝒲𝒜𝒮 𝒜 𝒫ℒ𝒜𝒞ℰ .ᐟ

꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 12.8k word count , black fem reader [ she / her prnz ] , both you and izu’ are 21 , mean farmer boy izu’ , oral sex [ r. + i. receiving ] , dom / sub dynamics , sex in a barn , daddy kink , big dick izu , slight bratty reader , pet name usage [ ex. baby, honey, shortstuff ] , creampie , bit of cum inflation , cervix kissing , izu’ doesn’t find cussin’ ladylike , izu’ is also huge in this so . . i don’t care how tall you are he’s bigger .

belladonna's note to you .ᐟ . . . smthg to keep u cutiez satiated while i study mi lil tushie off ໒꒰ ♡◞ ˕ ก ꒱১ < 3 i wrote dis like . . a year ago now ‘n only loosely edited it sooo my style may be a lil wonkyyy . have fun readin’ n minorzzzzz Do Not Interact !

it’s true.

you know — what they say about the stars being more brighter, more irradiant . . . vibrant in the countryside. growing up in the city, you had thought it was a lie. sure, sometimes you had to squint past thin layers of smog and gloom, but you could always see the stars just fine. distant, celestial bodies made up of hydrogen and helium, floating kilometers, light years away — its always fascinated you. it being not only stars, but space, time, the idea of knowing that you reside on a tiny, floating rock with almost eight billion other people.

moving from an almost two million people populated city to little sycamore square, seeded right near the border of georgia and alabama on a measly two hundred and fifty acres of land wasn’t a change you would have considered trivial nor minor. no, it took a lot of thought — literal years of weighing pros and cons until you just decided, screw it, you simply couldn’t take it anymore. the constant whirring of helicopters circling the entire city, spine vibrating honks of cars and double decker buses aching your sensitive ears as they sped down the three lane street a block away from your home, and constant stories of robberies and gun violence on every breaking news channel you flicked through on tv, to modestly put it, did not sit right within your spirit.

your uncle maevis, the deemed black sheep of the family, had ran off from the city when he was eighteen years old. no one had heard from him in years until there was a call from him to your mother fifteen years later, when you were twelve, telling her that he had became the mayor of some quaint, little town named sycamore square and gotten married to the town’s pastry shop’s owner.

from then on, you suppose that you and your uncle maevis grow close. he apologizes for leaving the family on such a bad note, realized that it was wrong for not checking in sooner ( could’ve spared your grandparents the dozen missing persons report they had battered the police into filing every couple years ). you and him exchange letters, talk on the phone, he even began to send you pictures and postcards of the town’s beautiful scenery.

and in a way, you fall in love with sycamore square without even needing to physically be there.

breaking the news to your parents that you wanted to leave the bird’s nest when freshly turned eighteen wasn’t easy — not by a landslide. constant asks of ‘ are you sure? ’ and snide comments of the town potentially having ‘ mountain lions ’ and ‘ roaming bears ’ were propelled into your ears as a last minute save to get you to stay.

but, you had already made up your stubborn, little mind. you were leaving and there was not a thing they were able to do about it. you were a legal adult, they couldn’t chain you to the porch steps even if they tried.

uncle maevis and his wife anna welcome you into their home with open arms and you quickly adapt to your new life there, living as the mayor’s niece.

to a certain extent, you were treated almost as if you had been a celebrity.

upon your first week living there, dozens after dozens of homemade pies, fruit baskets, and bouquets of beautiful flowers were sent to your home. the town even threw you something close to a ‘ homecoming ’ ceremony to express their happiness and gratitude of having someone of sweet grace and prestige move down to their little neighborhood. you’re aware that everyone takes liking to you . . . and quite quickly, even so.

in that case, everyone aside from him.

a soft breath of air pushes past your nostrils as your eyes catch on glints of forest green shaded beneath jet black curls that flop and dance in the comforting wind.

izuku midoriya.

everyone in town calls him ‘zuku, ‘zu, or simply midoriya. he had caught your eye on your third day having been moved to sycamore square. back then, he had been eighteen too, but he was so . . big. his stature was one of the first things you noticed about him.

natural, refined, sterling hard muscle cloaked with smooth, ivory skin, dotted with speckly freckles the color of honey. through enough gossip and factitiously-innocent asked questions to your auntie anna, you’ve come to learn that izuku has lived in sycamore square for almost his entire life.

him and his grandma reside over near the outskirts of town on a few, large acres of land in a white, oak trimmed farmhouse that’s been passed down through his family for generations.

some mornings, when you go to sit out on the porch swing to watch the rising sun bring in its rays of light with a nice, hot cup of coffee in hand, if you squint hard enough, you can see him on magic — his onyx black, thick maned, friesian horse that he rides to herd in cattle and flocks of sheep, galloping across the horizon.

he does a lot for the town, you came to realize.

most of everyone’s milk and cheese are churned right from the cows he owns, he makes sure to package boxes upon boxes of fresh eggs made by his brood of hens and give them to the town’s grocery and convenience stores, but him and his family are most known for their poultry.

“don’t know what it is about it, but ‘zu has to have the best bacon i’ve tasted in my entire life,” uncle maevis seems to mumble every morning at the table as anna plates his second serving of breakfast.

he’s polite. when he rides through the busy plaza on magic, you can hear him give sweet, “g’mornin ma’am”s and “how ya’ doin, sir?”s, sometimes even tilts his little invisible, wide rimmed hat to a group of high school girls when he catches them staring wide eyed and slack jawed at him and pretends not to notice how they immediately burst out into squeals and giggles when he’s far enough in fear of him hearing them freak out about how ‘ handsome ’ and ‘ gentlemanly ’ he is.

you think he’s managed to have a full conversation with everyone in your two thousand person populated town but you. and you don’t know why.

but, in a way, it’s not like you’ve tried to talk to him neither.

because just as how easily polite, kind, and sweet izuku can be, you find that he can also be the slightest bit intimidating.

it’s scary.

you think the closest you’ve ever been close to him has to be every fifteenth of every month — when the town opens its monthly farmer’s market where local farmers and people of the neighborhood sell fruit, vegetables, poultry, and a bunch of crafty knick knacks to consumers.

you sell your own, homemade candles followed by flower seeds by the pound. your little booth is always a hit and it makes you happy to hear praise of how good your candles smell because you put a lot of hard work into it. it’s not an easy task and you’re only able to sell around ten to fifteen each time.

one of the main reasons why you drive yourself to even crank those out every month is because izuku’s booth is always in front of and two down from yours. you’re able to get the best view of him come when the crowds ebb and dwindle out. his booth sells, of course, produce and handmade soap bars made of honey — a town known product that’s been made by his family for years.

you watch him smile at the people who walk up to his booth and give a pretty, little handsome laugh and bestow soft kisses on the rosy cheeks of infants as if he were the next living messiah and you try, you desperately try not to, but it’s hard not to feel a tinge of jealousy spark in what feels the base of your tummy at it all.

not of him, no, but of everyone else he interacts with. why won’t he talk to you?

“hey, babe,” anna’s giving you a soft smile as you trudge up the three steps that opens up to the large porch of your home. she’s standing in the doorway behind the flimsy, screen door which she pushes open to aid you in carrying the few, heavy bags that contain your candle making materials and set them down on the glossed, mahogany floors in the foyer.

a warm scent of sweet pepper and vanilla balms the air and drifts itself inside of your nose the moment you step foot over the threshold.

you sniff, “you’re baking?”

anna nods and wipes her hands on the apron she wears while walking to the kitchen, “mhm. i heard ‘zu’s grammy came down with some nasty flu. i made her a nice, little basket full of some teas and remedies and baked her an apple pie,” she says as you follow her. “would’ve got you to do the pie, goodness knows how good your lil’ hands are in the kitchen, but i forgot the market opened today and you ran out the door before i can tell you.”

you can feel warmth bloom across the surface of your cheeks as you look away. maybe you were a little extra excited to see izuku today, “sorry.”

“it’s fine, no worries.”

you watch her pull down the door of her teal-colored, antique, double oven and then a plump, steaming hot apple pie is set on the windowsill overlooking the backyard seconds later to cool.

anna gives you a smile, “you think you can run this care basket down to her for me? i’d do it myself but—“

“—sure, sure,” you’re already backing up from inside the kitchen to hurry on upstairs. “just lemme go change and i’ll be right on down.”

you’re aware of what this could potentially intel and lead to — you finally meeting izuku for the first time. there’s a bud of meager enthusiasm sprouting within your chest that you find hard to keep down. you have always made it a goal to look your best, no matter time or day — pretty skirts, dresses, blouses, and mary janes a staple in your wardrobe collection. nonetheless, you can’t help but want to look your absolute best just in case of you both stumbling into each other.

so, pulling out your favorite emerald green, white lace trimmed, thin strapped dress made of silk that clenched tight along the bodice to bring out the shape of your figure didn’t seem like a blunder. you make sure to adorn a few thin, gold necklaces to piece it all together and pin back a few of your locs — long, they reached all the way past your butt — with pretty clips to bring out your face more.

“tell her that me and the mayor hopes she gets well soon, alright?” anna’s sending you off with a wicker basket full of tea bags, jars of marmalade, the pie, and a bouquet of baby’s breath in arm. “hurry along.”

you find sycamore square to be at its prettiest during dusk and dawn. towering mountains thread along the perimeter of the entire town, acting as its own welcome and come again sign and big, beautiful, camphor trees and shrubs of roses and hibiscus line the one lane roads. you realize that you walk with a little pep in your step as the fresh, late morning air wafts over your face, bringing with it the scent of dew and cedar.

izuku lives on the most captivating piece of land in town, you think. the closer you get towards the house, the more homes and shops start to disperse until there just weren’t anymore. the pavement evens out to a long, winding, dirt road, corralled by wooden, split rail fencing and miles of meadow stretches out towards your left and right.

the closer you get, the drier your mouth feels. you clutch the bouquet of baby’s breath closer to your chest at the sight of the black, oak, glass paneled front door and you’re prepared to knock on it until you realize that there’s a doorbell, so, instead, you settle for just pressing the pad of your finger against the glowing button, hearing a distant, classic ding-dong! echo throughout the house.

you wait.

and while you wait, your head swivels on your shoulder to look towards your left. there’s a a navy blue colored barn about a yard away whose door was left partially ajar. you wonder, just wonder, if izuku was maybe in there — milking the cows, feeding magic, raking up hay that probably covers the entire floor before deciding to ultimately lift the entire haystack with big, strong arms flexing—

the door opens.

an automatic smile covers your face out of reflex as you turn your head back forward.

“. . . hi.”

it’s him.

he finally stands before you, finally looking at you. your voice quickly gets caught in your throat as you realize that you have to lift your chin just to make eye contact with him.

your voice is smaller when you reiterate, “hi.”

his eyes — the tone of moss, pine, and juniper all brewed and fused into one — stare down into yours and he squints them just a bit before lifting a bended arm to lean against the threshold. “. . . can i help you?”

he wears a thick, red and black flannel thrown over a white, muscle tee. his voice is deep, however not too deep to where you couldn’t comprehend his words. he has an accent, of course, he has an accent. it’s a nice, rich, southern drawl. god, you think you’re going crazy.

“uhm,” your fingers tighten around the basket and flowers. “uh, we heard — my aunt, uncle, and i —that your grandma has the flu and we just wanted to, uhm . . . to . .”

izuku’s staring at you — deep green of his eyes a mirror image of chasmal nihility — awfully different than the usual handsome grin that seems to permanently reside on his lips anytime he waltzes into town. you feel your heart give a firm thud against the cage of your ribs before it ultimately seems to . . stop. he seems . . . annoyed by you.

your chin drops, eyes do too, and your voice is now softer, “we heard that your grandma has to flu so, here you go,” you hold out the items you brought and he takes them slowly, as if hesitant. “the mayor and his wife hopes she gets well soon.”

“. . . mhm,” is all he says, before leaning back against the doorframe.

you think your fingers are trembling so you clasp your hands together and hold them behind your back before deciding to spare one last look up at him.

freckles.

so, so many freckles.

dotted along his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. some are even peppered all over his neck and the broad span of his collar bones and shoulders, you have no doubt that they probably made home along his torso and back, too.

a frown starts to slowly pull down the corners of his lips, “is there anythin’ else?”

oh. “oh! no, no,” a bright smile of embarrassment spreads across your face as you shake your head and slowly take a step back. in doing so, a swift breeze wafts across your face, making you realize that you were standing so close to him before that you were enshrouded in a cloud of his scent. he smells like syrup and pine. “no, uhm, that’s it.”

thick eyebrows rise underneath messy, green curls. “i’ll tell gramma the mayor sends her good wishes.”

you don’t know what you had expected.

maybe a ‘ thank you, ’ or proper goodbye-send off . . certainly not him taking a step back, mirroring you, and swinging the door shut in your face with a firm blam! before you hear the swift shlick! of a lock twisting.

you’re shocked.

speechless, you scoff a slight sound of dumbfoundment prior to turning on your heels and returning back to where you came from.

okay, you think. wow.

on your way home, you replay the interaction again and again in your head. your mother’s always told you that you had too big of a heart, you let people get away with things that they know they can get away with only because it’s you. so, it’s no surprise why your mind drifts off into the conclusion that maybe . . maybe izuku didn’t mean to slam the door that hard. and if he did, maybe he was just having a bad day. that’s not a far off presumption, you muse. it makes sense.

you try not to dwell on it for too long.

he was just having a bad day. that’s all.

from then on, you consider yourself on a constant, steady descent into madness. it’s something you’ve always struggled with — being a people pleaser. and if you ever decide to go to therapy and discuss why you are the way that you are, you’re sure that it would be traced back to either one, your giving always has been disproportionate in each relationship you’ve had and always lacked a return of current reciprocity, or two, who you were and what you wanted has been replaced by the needs and happiness of others — at the cost of your own likes, dislikes, goals, desires, and dreams.

dramatic, you think. although true, but you’d prefer not to delve too deep into that.

“baking soda, flour, butter, sugar, eggs, white chocolate, macadamias, cinnamon, m&ms, and chocolate chips.”

you’re standing inside of the kitchen with a pink, frill-trimmed apron tied over your favorite, plaid skirt and blouse and a small, crumpled piece of notebook paper held between manicured fingers a week later. the ingredients you have written down on the parchment have all been marked with a check right beside them to indicate that you bought them and they’re all laid out in front of you on the counter.

“alright,” you smile, set the paper down, and grab a mixing bowl.

it’s a new day. that means izuku’s probably doing a little bit better.

you’re fully prepared to try again.

baking has always been more of a hobby of yours than job, but, still, it’s also a skill that you find useful. you’re able to bake three different types of cookies — snickerdoodle, m&m, and white chocolate macadamia nut — in the shape of pretty hearts within only an hour and you make sure to envelop them all on a porcelain with plastic wrap to keep warm.

“where are you going?”

maevis is seated on his dark brown, leather, recliner seat in the living room as you’re shoving your feet inside of your pink, high heeled, mary jane shoes.

“down to izuku’s.”

he flips a page of his newspaper, looks at you over the rim of gold framed, rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and gives a small ‘ hm. ’ “alright. be safe.”

you smile and wrap your hand tighter around the red and white checkered wool you have the plate enswathed in. “okay, i’ll be back!”

you’re out of the door on a mission.

making it down to their farmhouse seemed to have taken shorter time than the first. you’re already ringing the doorbell before you’re done rehearsing the lines you planned on saying to izuku as the same bout of nervousness that sparked the inside of your chest the first time returns during which the door opens.

“( ❤︎ )!”

you grin, “ms. aya, hi!”

izuku’s grandmother is a tiny woman, standing at only five foot with thin, waist length curls the same forest-green tone of her grandson’s. you greet her with a hug when she opens her arms and a nice scent of toffee and cedar glides within your nose the moment your chin touches her shoulder.

“how are you feeling?”

she gives you a soft smile and waves you further inside the house after shutting the door. “oh, i’m fine now. the tea your aunt sent me helped a lot, tell her i said thank you for me, dear.”

she leads you down the foyer. you find the interior of their home to be very classic — high ceilings completed with wooden beams, dark floors, and a curved staircase a few feet away from the entrance.

ms. aya ushers you to the kitchen, “c’mere,” she says excitedly. “sit, sit! feels like i haven’t seen you in so long. how’ve you been?”

you take a seat on the bench section of the dining room table just as a loud shrill of a tea kettle went off, signaling aya to put on an oven mit, grab it from the stove top, and set it on a coaster.

“i’ve been good,” is your reply. “i just stopped by to drop off these cookies i baked for you and your grandson — uh, izuku.”

“ ‘zu?” she looks over her shoulder at you while carefully pouring the steaming, hot water into a short mug. her eyes glance away and eyebrows slowly begin to gather, “speakin’ of ‘zu, where is—“

a door closes and you hear the gruff sound of a man clearing his throat a few feet down the hall. on compulsion, your spine straightens and all the confidence you had gathered while walking over here demolishes the second pretty, green eyes meet yours and a frown seems to instantly take place on his face.

“ ‘zu, where were you?” aya clicks her tongue and shuffles over to him.

you think they look a bit silly standing side by side — tiny, frail aya and big, strong, perspiring izuku. no flannel today, he’s just in another muscle tee tucked into a pair dark washed jeans, and heavy boots. your eyes flit this way and that, drinking in the sight of thick biceps, sharp collarbones, and a stout neck veneered in a thin layer of sweat.

his shoulders are rising a bit faster than normal. he’s out of breath. “choppin’ wood,” he tells aya through a soft mumble before he’s leaning to kiss her forehead and brush past you to the refrigerator without another glance given your way.

the air within the kitchen seems to spark a new tensity . . . and you’re not sure as to why. what was once lighthearted feels now unsettled. a dumbbell appears to have taken home within your chest and you look down at your fingers which thumb at the knot holding the plate of cookies together.

“well, aren’t you going to say hi?” aya takes a seat across from you. “. . i don’t think you two have met yet, have you?—“

“—we have.” izuku lets the fridge door slam closed as he opens up a cap to a bottle of water.

aya hums in consideration. “oh,” she coo’d. “well, she bought us cookies. c’mere, ‘zuku. try one. she bakes just as good as anna.”

your hands fall to your lap and you direct your vision to them as aya undoes the fabric and slips off the plastic wrap on the plate. izuku gives a soft sigh and lets slow, wide, heavy steps carry him over to the table where you sit.

you.

he cuts his eyes at you, watching you sit there, almost curled into a ball as if you didn’t want him to see you. good. the cookies on the plate look appetizing — heart shaped . . that’s cute — and his stomach growls at the sweet scent that spirals up from them into his nose. the m&ms catch his attention first. shelled chocolate candy of all colors of the rainbow, buried shallowly into the soft dough with a few chocolate chips in between.

you take a peek up just in time when his long, thick fingers pick one from the plate and your big, pretty eyes follow his hand all the way up to his lips to watch him shove the entire cookie inside of his mouth while staring at you blankly . . . “no oatmeal raisin?”

he’s talking to you.

you swallow and slowly shake your head, “n-no,” you utter, unable to look away from him. “just . . m&ms, snickerdoodle, and, uh, macadamia and white chocolate.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment. just rubs his fingers together to dust the crumbs off of them and you flinch when some fall on your tiny skirt. “hm,” he murmurs, grabs his water bottle, then walks out of the kitchen without another word uttered.

your posture slumps and you let a heavy exhale. with him gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe.

he hates you.

no, it’s not just a simple dislike ( as if you could deal with that, anyway ). he hates you and you don’t know why. it’s bothersome.

each time he catches your eye in the plaza while he’s talking to someone, you can literally see the edges of his smile go frayed prior to him looking by away. you don’t stop with the cookies, either, no, you drop off pie, cakes, and candles to the izuku residence, all in effort to somehow get a hint as to why or, even better, an explanation, but he’s quick to brush you off, exit the room, or is just simply not in at that moment.

aya, of course, is more than happy to spend more time getting to know you. and a part of you feels bad at knowing a teeny, tiny bit of you only stopped by every couple days was to see her grandson, but, honestly, can you help it?

you’re drawn to izuku like a stupid, little moth to a blaze.

when you catch him at the town’s convenience store while buying lemons and sugar for your uncle’s famous lemonade, you can’t help but step away from the counter, losing your place in line just to follow the mop of moss-green curls all the way to the back of the store where alcohol, gauzes, and all things first aid are stocked.

your steps are quiet and slow as you round a shelf to watch him squint his eyes, bend his neck, and read a description on a box of bandages.

you think your eyes catch the blotch of blood seeping through the white tee he wears before anything — thick, runny, and the color of merlot, dripping down to the light wash hemming off his levis. “i-izu’,” you’re gasping and shuffling over, hardly needing time to think about your own actions. the heels of your loafers clicking against the linoleum catches his attention. “god, are . . are you okay? you’re bleeding—“

“—i know that—“

“—do you need help? uhm,” you’re setting down the small basket holding the sugar and lemons to open up the satchel you wear, hoping that you have something to aid him with. “i should have—“

he bites out a low, “—i’m fine—“

“—actually, matter of fact, no. how ‘bout i just buy some gauzes and neosporin myself and i can patch you right on up—“

“—i’m fuckin’ fine!”

you jump and large, spooked eyes shoot up to meet his. izuku’s fists ball and he takes a step closer so that he’s looming over you — a threatening vice of strength and you’re left to hold your arms around yourself in fear of him hurting you. “that’s what’s fuckin’ wrong with you city folk,” he rasps quietly, eyes shifting between the both of yours as if he were making sure you were understanding each word that came out of his mouth. “always thinkin’ y’all know everything and what’s best. can tell you right now that i’d rather stand here ‘n bleed out than let ya’ help me.”

oh.

there it is, you muse. finally.

izuku watches the corners of your plump, full lips wobble and your bottom lip juts out into a darling pout as your eyes flicker down from his, to his neck, chest, then the floor. “o-okay,” you whimper, voice soft. “alright. fine.”

your head snaps back up and you seem to try to recuperate your previous poise but when it doesn’t work, your entire face crumbles and you make sure to shove past him with a hard nudge of your shoulder into his side to get him out of your way.

and you wouldn’t call it depression, no, but you are . . . really sad for the next couple days.

your bed is your safe haven and you stay wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and plushies, dozing in and out of sleep between hours of crying your eyes out. if he wants to hate you, then that’s fine. you can hate him, too. it isn’t that hard.

maybe this was just what you needed for you to finally build a spine and speak up for yourself.

“hey, babe.”

you’re a whiny, little mess, letting anna sit upon your bed and stroke her hand gently over your silk, sleeping cap while you lay your head on her lap. she makes sure to check up on you once every few hours — whether that be just opening the door and making sure you’re alive or, at least, trying to get you to eat something. she doesn’t pressure you into telling her what has you so upset, nor to get up out of bed, and you adore her for that.

“wanna eat?”

it’s morning, around ten am. you showered only a couple hours ago after not being able to sleep and you considered actually getting dressed and going to run a couple errands for the house today for the first time in a while.

but, then, the doorbell’s ringing, uncle maevis is yelling upstairs that it’s for you, making you climb out of your sanctum of warmth and serenity, catch one glimpse of freckled cheeks when you make it to the railing, and then turn around. “no,” is all you grumble, catching anna’s bewildered expression as you climb back into bed and shove your face underneath a pillow. “no.”

she softly asks you, “who was it?” and gets up to check herself. only, it’s clear, that izuku has followed you upstairs because you soon head her give a little gasp and the honeyed, contralto of his voice rumbling out a calm, “g’mornin’ ma’am,” from your bedroom threshold. “i was hopin’ that i could talk ta’ her f’a second . . . f’just a moment.”

you curl yourself deeper underneath your blanket, almost trying to make yourself appear invisible. maybe, if you curl tight enough you can disappear, or better yet, he won’t see you.

“angel?” anna’s touching your shoulder and you huff and pull away. “i’m gonna let ‘zuku talk to you for a second, okay? i’ll be right downstairs. call me if you need me.”

please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave.

her footsteps recede down the hallway and you sigh.

with your aunt gone, it leaves izuku standing in your doorway, and normally he’d ask a woman for permission to enter her bedroom but he knows you’re just as stubborn as a bloody-minded bull, so he walks in on his own and lets his eyes catch on the pretty decor of your room.

you have an an arch shaped window straight ahead with a giant pillow and plush animals covering the floor underneath it. there’s a bookcase of all sorts of material aligned with a wall right beside it so he thinks that that may be your little book nook — cute. a classic tortoise shell vanity is directly across from your canopy bed, and the wall behind it is curtained with fairy lights, polaroid pictures, and photo booth strip images of you, your friends from the city he supposes, and your parents.

what covers your vanity is all types of things. he lets his fingers drift across your hair brush, jars of edge control, make up, and candles.

“i reckon that y’can’t be mad at me forever.”

he watches the little lump you make in the bed shuffle, proving that you heard him, but you don’t say a word.

izuku slowly rounds the other side of your bed and tries to hold in a smile. “you ignorin’ me?”

silence.

he sighs. he thinks he deserves that. “hey,” he crouches down to become eye level with you once he plucks the blanket you have over your head with his finger and lifts it so that your face is revealed. you’re pouting, of course you are, and yet, still, you’re staring at him like you’re trying to deep fry him like catfish with your eyes. izuku nibbles on the inside of his cheek, “gramma told me you were interested in how i spend my day,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if he were talking to a kitten to keep from scaring it away. “ ‘n so i thought i’d show you.”

your pout deepens into a frown and you slowly lift up so that you’re propped up on your hands, “what makes you think that i’d want to spend the entire day with you after what you said to me, midoriya?”

izuku rubs the inner corners of his eyes with his fingers and tries to explain this in the calmest way possible, “just . . come on. put on your shoes and let’s go.”

you fold your arms, “no.”

god, you’re a piece of work. he licks his lips, sighs, and lets his legs work on stretching him back up to his full height. “( ❤︎ ), please, put on your shoes. i’d like it if you came and spent the day with me.”

you, petty you, fix him with the nastiest scowl your pretty face can scrounge up, and in the sweetest tone possible, tell him, “i’d rather lay here in this bed and suffocate or bore myself to death than spend my day with you.”

something wicked curls within the base of izuku’s gut, leaving him staring at you while working his jaw back and forth — something that has him confused on what it means. because he knows what you just said was similar to what he told you at the store, he knows you’re only trying to get him angry, and to leave you alone, and just for that, he’s going to do the exact opposite.

you flop back down, and this time, turn your back towards him, “get out of my room.”

he takes a seat at the foot of your bed. “well, then i reckon ‘m not leavin’ until you come with me.”

“i’ll get my uncle to drag you out himself.”

“mister maevis adores lil, ol’ me.”

you loathe knowing that he’s right. you drag yourself out of bed with a groan and huff, realizing there was no point in trying to change his mind, and shuffle to your closet to pull out the first article of clothing you see which is a little, white skirt, white, collared shirt, and pink, cropped sweater vest.

izuku clears his throat, standing up when you turn around and fix him with your eyebrows raised and a cocked head. “i’ll leave you to . . .” he looks down at the clothes on your hand then the pajamas you wear — pink, cotton shorts that stopped right underneath your ass and a bralette. “yeah.”

he stands in the hall while you get ready, leaned against wallpaper the shade of eggshells covered in daffodils and buries his fists in his jeans’ pockets, thinking over if this was a mistake or not. in essence, it didn’t take much for him to admit what happened at the store was wrong of him. if he wants to take it a step further, it was fucked up.

but upon his grandma telling him how interested you are in his life on the farm and what he does, he supposed that it’ll be just a tiny step into the right direction of apologizing.

“ ‘m ready.”

izuku doesn’t know why he despises you so much, especially when you look so pretty, every day, all the time. you purposely left him standing in the hall for almost forty five minutes before exiting the room looking as if you were an angel sent directly from up above to stand in front of him. but, izuku’d rather let magic gallop all thirteen hundred pounds of her against his rib cage than admit that, to himself or you.

“what are we doing first?”

izuku’s throwing one, thick, muscled leg over magic’s back to settle on the saddle before reaching a hand down to where you stand on the first step on the porch. your eyes flick from it to magic who only glances at you before giving a small snort and looking away.

“don’t be scared,” izuku reads the evident unease that glistens in your eyes and gives a short head rub to magic who pushes back into his hand with a sound of content. “she’s a sweet girl.”

“are you sure?”

one look at your fingers rubbing nervously against one another as you nibble on the corner of your bottom lip has izuku’s chest doing that weird thing again — makes him feel as if his heart was twisting and clenching and it makes him, strangely, want to pull you into his arms and never let go. any normal person would ignore the feeling, but izuku doesn’t, and to make it worse he responds to it which always has him biting his words out to you in irritation.

“i think i’d know my own horse. c’mon, we’re wastin’ time.”

you struggle a bit but you end up on the horse with your chest glued to izuku’s broad back.

“wrap your arms ‘round.”

you’re hesitant, you’re always so fucking timid around him, but you do it and izuku doesn’t waste another moment prior to giving magic a nudge into her side with the heel of his foot and she takes off down the road on a steady gallop.

you emit a small squeak. initially, its scary. you can’t help but bury your face into the soft cotton of the white button down izuku wears as the world whips past you in a blur. nevertheless, after a while, you take a peek and realize that if you focus on how the wind hits your face and how good izuku smells and if you press your little palms tighter against his chest, you can make out the outline of abdominal muscles ?, and it’s actually nice.

izuku controls magic with natural grace. his posture is straightened yet his lower body is lax so that he’s able to steer her left and right with only his heel if needed. you’re entranced by him.

“y’ever milk a cow?”

he’s leading you to the barn, the same one your eye keeps catching each time you happen to look out of the window while inside of the house with aya.

your thick wedged, vivienne westwood, ballerina shoes are sinking into soft soil as you try to keep up with his long strides. “nuh-uh,” you utter softly. “. . . it looks fun though.”

you hear izuku give a small snort. the sound makes you lift your eyes up to see a soft smile on his face though his eyes were still trained ahead of him. you want to ask him what’s so funny but he’s pushing open one of the tall, heavy doors of the barn and your brain’s immediately going empty at the sight of all of the animals that occupy almost the entire space within.

the pigs are the first you notice, around five of them, caged in a large wooden pin with dried mud caked all over their plump, pink bodies and they seem to snort a greeting towards you and izuku as you, him, and magic past by them, a flock of sheep, and two cows to an empty stall.

“that’s betsy,” he points to a brown spotted cow who lazily chews on a handful of silage. “and that’s tux.” a fluffy black one who stands in the other stall beside her.

you can’t help coo’ing and tickling your fingers atop of betsy’s head. “well, aren’t you precious?”

izuku watches you whisper and mutter to her while he fills magic’s drinking bail with fresh, drinking water. you’re like a child — skipping between betsy and tux and smiling all bright. and they melt their broad, fat faces into your soft palm, all content and happy like they didn’t try kicking and biting izuku the first time he met them all those years ago after being dropped off at the farm at only ten years old by his parents before they ran back off to another country. jealous? fuck no.

you giggle, “you’re so cute.”

maybe.

“c‘mere.” izuku makes you hold out your hands so that he can slap some petroleum jelly on your little palms and tells you to rub it in while he opens betsy’s stall, grab a pail, rinses it clean, strip her, then plop it underneath her udders. “alright, now, watch me.”

you have to bend lower so that you’re in a crouching position like him to watch him grab two of betsy’s teats at the base by two of his fingers on each hand, grip, and slide down.

you’re amazed at how fresh, clean milk is released from the teats into the bucket, and how izuku seems to do it almost absentmindedly, as if this was just a regular ol’ day for him which, in hindsight, most likely is. “now y’wanna hold and, sort of, grip as you slide your fingers down so that the milk can come out.”

his hands are beautiful to you — big and thick, scarred and bruised. effortless strength and brawn eclipsed beneath a sealant of wounds. your eyes flutter from them and up to his face, shyly. he chews on the inside of his cheek when he’s focused which makes his freckles dance along his jaw as his curls flop against his forehead upon his moil and effort.

“here.” izuku lets betsy’s teats go, lifts up and takes a step back. “your turn.”

you’re hesitant. you waddle, still crouched down, to replace his spot and grab the teats carefully.

izuku hears you giggle. “they’re . . they feel weird,” you tell him softly. he watches you start to gently squeeze and pull, and surprisingly, you don’t seem half bad at it.

“may bring you around here more of’en.”

you spend your day milking cows, shaving sheep, gathering eggs, and feeding pigs. it’s fun — living in izuku’s shoes for a day, and in a way, the respect you have for what he does for the town builds because you see that it’s a lot. a lot more than you initially thought, that is. however, still, as fun and riveting it is, being a farmer and all, it’s nonetheless exhausting.

you’re burned out by the fifth hour which happens to be around dusk and thankfully, izuku doesn’t try to push you past what’s clearly your limit; he just leads you back to the barn, mumbling something about him needing to check on magic anyways, and lets you plop down on a haybed while he refills her food and water pail.

wordlessly, you watch him. “. . . you don’t like me very much, do you?”

the barn is quiet aside from the sound of a wooden brush’s bristles being combed through magic’s thick mane and the soft cracking of hay being stepped upon on your end. izuku looks at you and finds your eyes focused on your shoes and lets your words marinate for a moment. the question was blurted out so he gives you the option to backtrack and take it back if needed, but when you don’t, he inhales air through his teeth and looks back at magic.

his answer is coarse, “no.”

at the same time he says, “don’t ask why,” you shoot out, “why?”

the barn goes silent again for a while and you find that now that the topic is here, lingering in the air, there’s no point in fighting to leave it alone. “did i . . did i do something to you?” your voice is soft and frail; makes izuku step around magic to get the other side of her mane just out of fear of him seeing your round, doe eyes looking up at him full of dejection. “ ‘cause if i did, i’m sorry. all this time, i didn’t think of me probably saying something to you in the wrong way or tone, or maybe even, cutting you off at the plaza—“

“—you didn’t do anythin’.”

you watch him toss the brush to the side, close magic’s stall, then sigh. his face goes through a range of emotions before he ultimately settles on looking straight at you with what looks like frenzy sheathed underneath a thin layer of control. “. . think it’s more about me likin’ you a little too much than me not liking you.”

your eyebrows gather in close as they dip in to reveal your confusion, “hm?”

izuku rolls his eyes and turns his back toward you. his neck bows and you’re confused on what he’s doing until you notice his shirt loosening around the shoulders. “gramma tells me that ‘m actin’ like a child . . a schoolboy because i’d rather hold my emotions for you under dislike and insults than tell you how i really feel.”

his shirt falls off of his arms and he throws it over a wooden beam while walking to an empty stall where a chipped, large piece of glass laid propped up, serving as a mirror. beside it is a shelf that holds a first aid kit and he grabs it before coming to a stop in front of the mirror, leaving you to look at him through the reflection.

your mind tugs between being shocked at how chiseled his torso is — broad, thick, strong, and decorated with scars and bruises, both new and old — and concerned . . because that cut you had wanted to nurse back at the convenience store seems to not have gotten the slightest bit better. no longer is he bleeding but the skin around it is purpled and clearly tender; you can see it in the way he flinches back from his own fingers when he reaches out to tear off the gauze.

“god, izuku.” you’re walking over and reaching for a wet wipe in the first aid kit. “you’ve been walking around like this all day?”

“past couple days,” he gruffly corrects, watching you bend your neck so that you’re able to carefully start wiping away the pus and ooze that seems to drip from the scar. he notices the tiny gold hooks and shells that decorate your locs and how you seem to actually be concerned for his well being . . and he pretends not to notice how his heart speeds up in the slightest as the feel of your little fingers brushing along his skin.

“you’re stupid,” you hiss, sparing a look up at him to see his eyes widened with surprise. “you’re so stupid. you haven’t let yourself heal, it’s been open this entire time.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but he stands still and lets you rub on some numbing cream and keeps from admiring how pretty you look through the reflection of the mirror behind you.

your voice is gentle again when you murmur, “but i’m not gonna ignore what you said . . . mm, schoolboy?”

izuku feels himself grow a little embarrassed. he looks away. “don’t know how else to explain it.”

you’ve got this far . . . “so you like me?”

he doesn’t say anything. not until medication is transferred onto a thick, new piece of gauze and the gauze is stuck and patted against izuku’s skin.

“truth is,” izuku waits until you look up at him. until your pretty eyes meet his and leaves his heart stuttering within his chest which he powers through to softly say, “always thought you were sweeter than stolen honey.”

it’s immediate — the adorable smile that starts to creep up on your lips, leaving you to shyly look away from him and drop your forehead between his pectoral muscles which only makes izuku chuckle. “. . i thought you hated me,” you mewl. “izu’ this isn’t fair. you’d see me coming a mile away while you were standing at the plaza and hurry and go the other way, you sprinkled cookie crumbles on me because i didn’t make oatmeal raisin and when i did, you took the whole plate from me without so much a glance or thank you, and you slammed a door in my face!”

when it’s all laid out like that, izuku realizes that he was a bit, fuck that, very rude to you. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, taking a chance to lay a kiss right against the crown of your head. god, he’s sorry. “i’m sorry, i just . . ” he chews the inside of his cheek, trying to explain his emotions as best he can. “i don’t know how to . . like someone.” he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush before. he’s never craved to hold a person tight, to slip love notes within their back pockets as if he were a sheepish teen, to protect, love, and cherish — not until you stumbled into his life.

you lift your head and his heart melts at the pout that plays on your plump lips, “so, how do you know you like me?”

you’re confused when he grabs your wrist but it all makes sense upon him taking your hand, pressing it against the middle of his chest, and covering his own with it.

thudthudthudthudthud.

your pretty face is amazed, “it’s beating so fast,” you whisper, pressing your hand against his chest more flat as if to get a better feel.

his face softens when he laughs, you realize. he looks almost . . boyish — an innocent gleam in his eyes that you find adorable. “yeah, well . .” he clears his throat. “reckon it’s been beatin’ this hard since i picked you up earlier . . since i first saw you at the plaza three years ago.”

you’re giddy. you really don’t know how else to explain how you feel, especially when you have izuku staring down into your eyes, face soft and eyes dazed, as if he were looking at you for the very first time. you don’t say anything for a second, you want to bask in how this feels for as long as you can, notably upon him bringing your hand that covered his heart up higher so that he can press one, two, three, four, five gentle kisses against each pad of your fingers.

you stare at his lips the entire time — soft, pink, flushed a pretty coral. the air around you both seems to thicken; leaves your own lips parting and your little mouth softly gasping for your next breath upon him pulling you even closer, chest to chest. he’s so big, you realize it for what feels like the thousandth time. he makes you nervously shift from foot to foot as you try to vocalize what you want, leaving him staring at you with amusement shining within viridescent green.

“you can . .” your voice is pitched higher and his fingers tighten around the hold he has around your waist to make you gasp again. “you can kiss me.”

his responding chuckle is so deep that it has you feeling it rumbling throughout your entire body. you hate how a lick of heat starts at the base of your throat and ends with a gush of slick pooling in the seat of your panties. “shit, that’s cute,” he mumbles, still smiling. “how you think i need permission.”

‘ huh? ’ is only halfway out of your mouth prior to his lips touching yours and you, precious you, blossom like a rose within his arms. he kisses you hard, has your back bending rearward from the sheer intensity of it, but you’re all for it. your hands slip across the broad swathe of his shoulders which you dig your fingernails into as if to somehow bring him closer. izuku cups the underneath your jaw between his large hand, so that he’s able to keep your chin up and lips atop his which he nibbles upon tauntingly, tasting sweet cake batter from your lipgloss.

“izu’,” you whimper and go to pull away but as if drawn to one another like a moth to a flame, you only last a second without his lips against yours before you both are back where you started.

your body’s turning and your feet are moving, walking backwards until the underside of your ass touches what feels like the bed of hay and you’re pulling away for the second time to look up into izuku’s eyes. “can i,” his breathing is slightly labored. “. . . can i touch you?”

you want to be reluctant, you want to resist, but izuku makes it hard.

you mewl out a little, “uh-huh,” while nodding your head and he’s really not wasting another second. your tiny sweater vest is lifted off of your head and thrown somewhere irrelevant, and hesitantly, his fingers reach for the buttons of your shirt before he starts to undo them one by one with your hands holding his wrists the entire time.

your tiny skirt is next to go, not before he indulges himself and lets his hand fall down on one fat, plush globe with a sharp slap prior to him taking a nice handful and you squeak while pressing your chest back against his. “my god,” he whispers underneath his breath, looking over your shoulder to do it again. “lemme see it, princess.”

you whine and press your ass back into his big, rough hands, satiating his greed of seeing your ass jiggle and move when you grab it from the bottom yourself and squeeze. izuku moans, “fuck.”

it’s jarring — seeing his usual, stoic composure he seemed to have masqueraded just for you drop second by second, until he’s just . . . izuku. the izuku you’ve seen kiss his grandmother on the cheek on greeting each time he enters the house, the izuku that laughs all loud and cute in the plaza, the izuku that seems to have softened up more notably around you until he’s giggling and kissing the spot right atop your heart prior to him picking you up and then laying you back upon the soft, fleece covering of a hay bed.

“drive me crazy, y’know that?” he mumbles while undoing the ribbons that tie into a bow right above your ankles which allows your shoes to loosen and fall, leaving you cladded in just your short, frilly socks and pink, laced undergarments with little bows decorating the hem of your bra and panties. “know how hard it’s been f’me, honey?” when you don’t answer, too entranced by his hands sliding up the curve of your hips and waist, up to your ribs then all the way back down to your calves, izuku gives a tilt to your body and swats a nice, thick smack to your ass. you squeak. “ ‘m talkin’ to you.”

“h-hah . . no, izu’.” you’re so cute, pouting down at him like you don’t understand . . like you’re clueless to what you’re doing to him and his little, ol’ heart.

“izu’,” he repeats softly, standing from his knees. nobody calls him that but you and he fucking loves it. he remembers the first time he heard you call him izu’, all syrupy sweet down at that convenience store. he’s positive that you hadn’t even known you let the nickname slip out of your mouth, too concerned with him bleeding and all, but it took almost everything within him from not downright ravaging you directly on that linoleum the nanosecond he heard it pass from your pretty lips.

you follow him when he stands so that you’re seated upright with one hand behind you, holding you up — watching his fingers slip one end of his belt through the loops of his jeans and silver buckle so that he can loosen it, pop open the button, and slide down his zipper.

your little body’s inching closer and closer. you aren’t even looking at him, eyes focused right on his crotch after he pulls his jeans and briefs down his thick, muscled thighs, and his cock springs up centimeters away from your nose bridge. the way you gasp is adorable.

your mouth feels dry. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you never wondered about how his cock would look like, late at night, buried beneath the soft fleece and wool of your blankets with green curls, freckled cheeks, bulging biceps, and pretty lips running through your brain at an all time speed like a montage. it’s pretty — tip flushed the same orangey-pink of his lips, firm skin wrapped around all thick, eight inches of him and he curves just slightly upwards.

your fingers lift before they recoil. “can i . .” your voice is quiet; seems to be stuck in your throat.

thankfully, izuku understand you. he hums softly, “want it?”

your hips shift at the sound of his voice — deep, quiet, gentle. your panties are so wet that it’s uncomfortable. you nod, and lift your head when he tilts your chin up so that you can make eye contact with him, “mhm.”

“say it, then.” you almost cum just at the sight of him starting to stroke himself — lazy and steady. “let izu’ hear you say it.”

you’re so pouty. izuku doesn’t understand how fucking precious one girl can be. “i wan’ it,” you whimper.

“want what?”

a glistening bead of pre cum starts to build at his tip. “want your cock, izu’,” you sniffle and push your cheek deeper into his palm. “want it . . in my mouth, please?”

“what a darlin’ thing you are,” he whispers, eyes focused on your lips which part wide open when his thumb brushes across the bottom. “don’t even have to tell you t’ open up . . good girl.”

the first taste of him on your tongue has your eyes simultaneously rolling back and fluttering closed. it’s something that you can’t explain — a certain briny sweetness that makes your saliva build up within your mouth and literally has you drooling over him. you begin a rhythm at a slow, lazy pace . . burying all of him til he touches the hilt of your throat and pulling back slowly while softly humming in content.

“fuck,” izuku whimpers and tilts his head back, letting himself just feel it for a second . . feel how your little mouth wraps around him tight. you’re messy with it — don’t care if your slobber gets all thick, frothy, and fizzy, ‘cause you’d only pull back and smooth it all over his shaft to lubricate him more while smiling cutely.

izuku’s mouth falls open when your little fists melt into the mix and you circle them in opposite directions while bobbing your head. his toes curl in his boots. “oh, goodgirlgoodgirlgoodgirl,” he moans and lets his hips start to rock back and forth. that’s exactly what you are. you’re so fucking good. izuku hates himself for how he treated you all these years. you didn’t deserve it, no, you didn’t.

all of those times he’d see you at the farmer’s market, selling your pretty candles and flower seeds, he’s been wanting to walk over and spark up a conversation with you so bad, but, he never could. in a way, he thinks you intimidated him . . all pretty and sweet, it’s fucking insane how bad he’s wanted you and for so long.

you choke and your throat clenches around his crown. izuku pulls out, letting you gasp and hum. “so pretty,” he whispers, slapping his heavy dick on the cushion of your displayed tongue. he’s positive that his eyes have hearts doodled within them. “prettiest girl in town . . in the universe.”

you can’t help but giggle which makes him smile and bend to grab your legs and pull them which has you falling back onto your back. “you taste s’good, izu’,” you whisper.

“hm? really? lemme try then.” he’s holding your face firmly between his hand so that he can essentially dip his tongue inside the warmness of your mouth to stroke it over your own and the roof of it, needy for both his and your conjoined taste and — god, it doesn’t disappoint. him, sharp and tart, mixed with your sweetness, he thinks he’s in love. you’re enticing; enlivening something carnal and twisted within him. something that izuku himself doesn’t even have a clue of as to what it is.

all he knows is that he’s never wanted someone as bad as he does you. he doesn’t know why he’s battered down this feeling, this urge for so long, but he knows that now that he has you, he refuses to ever let you go.

you’re looking up at him like he’s hung the sun in the sky when you whisper, “izuku.” your eye contact only breaks because you seem to shy away. “it hurts.”

hurts . . . he doesn’t like that. you shouldn’t be hurting, not one bit. never again for as long as he’s alive and breathing. “what hurts, honey?” he’s lifting himself a little higher, thinking that maybe him lying all of his body weight on you is the problem; but when you whine and shake your head, as if that was the last thing you wanted him to do, he grows even more confused. “hmm?”

it’s cute — how your little hand scrambles for purchase on his wrist so that you can lead and place his fingers right over the seat of your panties upon your pussy and how your eyes roll back into your head, making izuku think that only your relief is able to be satisfied and glutted by him and only him — whether by a simple touch or not.

“oh,” he whispers, letting his fingers find the puffy pearl of your clit that protrudes out between your lips just the slightest bit and is hardened to the touch. “want me right here?”

“uh huh.” your legs are lifting on their own accord so that you can grab the backs of your thighs and hold yourself open for him. izuku appreciates that.

he bends his neck low so that he can leave sweet, gentle kisses along the soft, plush skin of your inner thighs. you smell so good to him — like a coconut cream pie, almost exactly like it, and it’s intoxicating. “spread ‘em wi — well, i’ll be damned,” pushes out of his chest as a soft whisper when you open your legs wider before he finished his sentence. “there you go . . . smart girl. so fuckin’ perfect.”

flawless. exquisite. you’re perfect.

upon him tearing your underwear off and pocketing them without missing your cute, scandalized gasp that is, izuku feasts his eyes on your pretty pussy and is positive that he falls in love with you right then and there. you’re shaved bare, save for a cute landing strip in the shape of a triangle right on your mound whose tip points to your slit.

your lips are chubby and brown but when he uses his thumbs to spread them apart, he opens a door to lovely, glittering, pink and a tiny, swollen clit who seems to have made home in its hood. you’re beautiful. you’re . . “ ‘bout pretty as a peach.”

you grow sheepish under his glazy-eyed stare. “s-stop it.”

izuku wants . . . he wants so much that it makes him press the pads of his fingers harder into your skin where he holds your thighs up himself in frustration. he wants to curb all of your doubts, your uncertainties, your worries — wants you to believe that there won’t be another day on earth where he’d be all cruel and horrid to you. he wants to know if you prefer to live out the rest of your days in a sweet cottage home or cozy, little bungalow. he wants to take his time to get to know your body, wants to treasure it the way it deserves to be. would you flinch back or keen if he blew a soft breath on your little clit to coax it from its cover?

he blows.

your body recoils but your back arches and you whine. both. how sweet.

when his mouth latches onto your entire pussy is when you gasp. his entire tongue scours the complete length of you, from the silver of skin separating your sweet cunt from your taint, all the way up to the throbbing bud of your clit. you lift your head, sparing the chance of your heart failing at the sight of his eyes staring straight ahead into yours through long, pretty eyelashes and messy curls. “ngh — izu, god,” you slump back against where you lay.

it’s a loud slurp echoing throughout the quiet barn when he pulls himself off, just to lay his thumb right above your clit and push the hood of it upwards with just a bit of pressure so that he can grant himself access to it. “there we go.”

your little toes curl in your socks when he suctions his lips to it and gives a few wet, experimental suckles. the muscles of your abdomen tenses and rolls and he feels you press the inside of your thighs closer to his ears, essentially telling him that you liked that.

“ooh shit,” you’re whimpering. “shit, izuku, fuck.”

how filthy. izuku comes to realize that he doesn’t like that very much — those foul words flowering from your pretty lips. but, still, he does it again, only this time he pulls his head back just an inch with your clit still in his mouth before letting it go with a wet pop so that it can settle back in place. you hiccup.

izuku wonders, “. . feel good?” he murmurs around your pussy, needing to know.

he looks up at you just in time for him to catch you lift your head. you’re beautiful. eyebrows just the slightest bit furrowed, making him think you were almost sad if it weren’t for how your mouth was dropped along a soft ‘o’ as you moaned his name. “uh-huh,” you nod and your soft hand pushes some of his curls back from his forehead to get a better look at how his tongue slowly began to snake down to slither inside of your tiny hole. “hng, shit!”

you think the responding swat on your thigh is innocent. his tongue buries inside of you deeper when you fall back again and open your trembling legs wider. “f-fuck, don’t stop—“

“—jesus fucking christ.”

izuku lets your legs fall from around his face and stands up. his mouth leaving the warmth of your pussy is so abrupt that you’re left blinking up at the ceiling in shock for a moment before you’re whimpering, “why did you—“

a bundle of lace trimmed cotton is pushed inside of your mouth — your underwear. “kiss your ma’ with that mouth, shortstuff?” izuku kicks off his shoes and his jeans. “i counted. your lil’ self cursed five times, i don’t like that. pretty girls don’t swear.”

a small mewl is made out through the gag in your mouth. izuku only joins you on the bed of hay when you reach out for him and makes sure to spread your legs wider, just to accommodate his build. he wants his words to sink inside of your fuzzy brain, wants to make sure that you understand what he’s saying . . and so he passes the time by trailing the tip of his nose carefully down your cheek until he reaches your neck where he softly kisses and hums against. “no swearin’, princess. y’hear me?”

you give a gentle “mhm,” and head nod, looking up at him as if he were the creator of all things good and he removes your panties without another second wasted before kissing your lips one more time.

his cockhead nudges the entrance of your pussy and it makes your next inhale go trembly. it hurts. blood hums and thrums within your veins, all heading south which only makes your pussy feels as if someone had been pounding at it with a hammer for an hour straight. izuku knows it hurts, he can see it in the way your hips shift and how your face screws. “can i—“

“—please, mhm, please,” you’re gasping. “do anythin’ izu, i don’t care.”

so pretty. izuku lifts up, spits into his palm and polishes it over his cock, watching your chest heave which only brings his attention to your tits, still encased within your bra and he silently thanks you for having a front clasp because he’s able to simply pluck the hook loose which allows your breasts to spill out into his welcoming hand.

“ooh, fuck,” he whispers, stroking the underside of his dick along your lips while rolling one, small nub between his fingers.

he inches inside you slowly, gradually, little by little until his heavy, plump balls are pressing flush against your ass and you’re mouth is left agape with a little pool of drool sitting on your tongue. izuku groans, forehead touching yours. “shit,” he’s panting, he realizes. left breathless by the sheer sight of you. “oh, fuck. how’s it feel, baby? ‘s good?”

your response is a simple sob of his name.

you’re so — you felt so full, so full, so full — it was too much. not enough? it was so much, too much. you can’t get enough. so good, so good, so good —

your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he pulls out just half way and carefully grinds back in. you’re positive of there being a bubble around you two, one full to the brim of avid, ravenous want and desire — three years of angry pining and back and forth leading up to this one moment which leaves izuku grabbing you by the backs of your knees to press them into the soft blanket on either side of your shoulders which he also uses as leverage to begin pistoning his hips up then down.

“oh my god,” you squeak and reach for his forearms, digging your nails deep into the skin when the crown of his dick bumps against the textured ridge of your cervix.

oh, he’s waited long enough — too long. “fuck, y’so pretty,” he mumbles, hearing the sticky squelch of his cock fucking your cream in then out of you. “so . . fuckin’ beautiful.”

his thrusts are slow, calculated, deep and his thumbs rub comforting, little circles against the underside of your thighs. he was proud of you for taking all of him so well. he’s inescapable when he leans back down to bury his face inside the crook of your neck which leaves your legs still opened and bent back by the weight of him.

your breaths are short and pushed out of you with each jab of his hips and you find the strength to wrap your arms around his back and bury one of your hands inside of his soft curls. “feels s-so good izu’,” you hiccup, feeling overwhelmed. your clit is stimulated by his trimmed pubes the closer he pushes his hips into yours.

izuku can’t get enough. his hands slip down beneath you so that he can grab you by the soft globes of your ass, grip them and start to make you rise your hips to meet him halfway when he picks up a quicker rhythm. “filthy . . lil’ . . pussy.”

tears of pleasure blur your vision. you can’t babble anything but ‘so good.’ “ ‘s so good,” you sniffle. “daddy, ‘s so good.”

the name slips from your lips without much thought, but something inside of izuku ignites. makes him lift his head to look at you, but it’s like you hadn’t realized you said it. how cute, how sweet. a lopsided smile lifts his lips, “ ‘s that right?”

he doesn’t give you a chance to take it back, no, that title’s all his now. he lets your legs go in lieu of throwing them over his shoulders and with the new position, it’s like his energy triples. you’re a mess. you’re a teary faced, empty brained, dumb little mess. “izu — god, fuck — izu’!”

two thunderously loud smacks rain down on your ass before you can even comprehend what you had just said. “what did i say?” izuku’s tone is gentle though as he holds your throat within his hand, not pressing, not squeezing, just anchoring you down to reality so that your blurred vision can focus on him. “what did daddy say, hm?”

your pussy spasms around his girth. “n-no,” you swallow and try to form another sentence. “no swearing.”

“good girl,” his pace stills. he sits there for a moment, lets you feel the weight of him inside of you while he basks in your velvety, pink walls tightening and constricting around him before he’s suddenly pulling out.

you gasp.

he coo’s at how your pussy gapes, only for a moment or two, before your pretty walls were closing again and shrinking behind the lips of your labia while greeting him with another gush of milky white slick.

“c’mere.” he tilts your body on its left side so that he can slip up behind you, lift your bent leg, and slap his heavy cock on your pussy. “put it in f’me, pretty.”

you sniffle as your little hand reaches for his dick and you align his tip to the entrance of your cunny so that izuku can slowly push back in. he thinks this position may be his favorite. your head falls back into his shoulder and you turn it into his neck as if to silence the loud, long moan crawling out from the base of your gut.

he lets you have that; knows you can only quiet yourself for so long, especially when he picks up an immediate constant rhythm that has your ass bouncing off of his hips with thick clapping sounds that echo throughout the entire stable. you’re drooling, a thin rivulet that trickles down your cheek and izuku lets his thumb stroke it away while he pants against your opened mouth. “please cum in me,” you’re crying and digging your fingernails into the forearm that’s wrapped around your chest. “please, izu’.” you’ve never wanted anything more in life, you’re sure.

izuku moans and slips his leg between the both of yours, needing to be intertwined within you. “oh, fuck, y’want that?” he groans. “y’sure?”

“uh huh.” when your hand slips between your legs to capture your clit beneath your fingers, he notices and pushes them away to replace them with his own. you’re sure you’ve reached seventh heaven when his other hand’s fingers slip past your lips so that you can suckle and busy your needy mouth with them, hardly needing another second before your joints were locking up and you were cumming with a silent moan.

you clench up tight — almost too tight. izuku’s jaw tightens and he bullies his cock past that tight barrier your pussy seems to take on as it spasms and drips a thin, pearly cream down his shaft and balls. “oh fuck.” he bends your leg further and further back until it’s almost touching your shoulder. he wants to see it — wants to see his heavy, swollen balls smack against that little clit, wants to see your pussy get battered into submission, wants to see your tummy bulge to accommodate all that he gives.

“mine,” he whispers underneath his breath as his balls draw closer to his body. “god, you’re mine. all fucking mine.”

he cums with a choked gurgle of your name. it’s surreal. iridescent stars seem to border his vision as he ruts his hips against your ass to fill you up to the brim. “shit,” he’s panting and softly whining into the top of your head, holding you as close as he can as his body breaks out into a full shudder. pleasure seems to run up and down his spine at an all time speed, he’s never felt anything like this before. “shit, baby.”

you moan softly at the warmth he brings. you can tell it’s a lot . . can feel it when your fingertips press against your lower tummy and you can hear a small slushing sound.

izuku doesn’t think he can move. his breathing’s labored and his chest feels full, but he can’t move, he’s sure of it. you both lay there for a moment, needing just a second to gather your bearings. you’re tired and you feel just a little gross with all the crying and drooling you were doing, but izuku still kisses you with everything he has within him.

it’s funny, you think.

walking hand and hand with izuku into the same convenience where this all seemed to have started the next day to buy a plan b pill. it’s funnier seeing almost the entire town’s reaction to seeing you kiss one another for the first time and you think it’s absolutely comical, come eight months later when he’s proposing to you in a field of daisies at dusk only a few acres away from the barn.

“oh my god,” you’re giggling while staring down at him on bent knee, holding a tiny, red, velvet box that holds a gorgeous, angled diamond with a pretty pearl right beside it — it belonged to his great grandma, he’ll tell you about a year later while you’re both cozied up underneath a blanket in your own, little cottage home. “are you sure?”

he’s smiling, all pretty and soft, with his eyes focused on yours like you were the only person on the planet, the only person that mattered. “absolutely positive.”

  ❤︎ — all rights reserved ! © poutsiez !

just…step-daddy enji teaching you how to finger yourself. propping you up in his big lap, spreading open your pretty lips that’ve been slicked with your arousal and showing you that lil needy pulsing hole of yours. he’s such a gentleman, warning you that it’ll hurt cuz “daddy’s fingers are so big” he’s so careful, slipping one of his thick fingers in and it’s the fullest you’ve ever felt, already squirming on his lap. doesn’t take long for him to be fucking you open with three of his fingers while your body spasms on his lap after having cum 3 times already, clit overused and twitching but it’s not over until daddy says and daddy says that you want more cuz “your pretty pussy’s sucking me in, think you can give me another, don’t you?” and you’ll just dumbly nod along to whatever he says :(( sigh

C*ck Therapy

Therapist Steven Grant x patient!camgirl!female reader

Warnings: 18+, taboo relationship, therapist-patient sexual relations, c*ck warming, p in v, unprotected, mentions of cam girl activities, mentions of masturbation, mentions of oral (f rec), umm.. how else do I tag this. Brat taming Steven.

Just 1.8k words of horniness I’m sorry. Beta’d by the lovely @melodygatesauthor

“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s got you so angry, love,” he said while gripping your hips down onto his, not letting you roll them the way you longed to.

See, Steven used to be your therapist. He used to be your kind, respectful, and attentive therapist for about 4 months but that quickly changed when you decided to divulge your secondary income source – your premium content. Subscription based content. Adult modeling. Your camgirl side hustle. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He didn’t take the information as well as you were hoping, stuttering and blushing and not meeting your eyes, and you felt uncomfortable, thinking he was judging you for it. In actuality, Steven had found your profile a few weeks prior to your confession, and couldn’t help but palm himself to your entire content library. He’d never come harder than he had on the first night he stumbled upon one of your videos. It wasn’t long before he became addicted to the way you fell apart on camera.

He knew it was wrong, he knew it was probably against some rule about him being your therapist but he couldn’t help it. You were so intelligent in your sessions with him, always providing great insight on your own issues. You were one of his favourite patients. He was really happy with the progress you were making, and well… Steven couldn’t deny that you were beautiful. He was sure you were well aware of your beauty, so he never fancied himself someone you’d find attractive, especially considering the nature of your relationship. It was sort of forbidden. No, it was forbidden. The guilt didn’t stop him from subscribing to you though.

In your sessions, he never made you feel uncomfortable, he never gave away that he knew about your secret side gig, and he honestly wanted to help you. Steven was genuine in his career, he loved listening to you open up to him. He didn’t think his guilty addiction to you was hindering your growth until you mentioned your videos and apparently it showed on his face. He began stumbling over his words, trying desperately to explain that he wasn’t judging you. When you told him he was making a ‘cringe face’, he was forced to admit that he was actually cringing at himself, not at you. It was a painful few moments for you both.

Long story short, he couldn’t keep seeing you in his office, and decided some private sessions in his home were more appropriate. They usually started off with him bending you over the couch and then asking you how your day went as he righted your clothing, or kissing you messily the second you walked through the door, only to ravenously eat you out on the closest surface he could find. He was insatiable. Half your sessions were him just whining and whimpering about how delicious you were and how he couldn’t believe you were really letting him do this to you. Steven still let you talk, still listened to your issues and still tried to therapize you. It was just after he fucked your brains out.

You came over with an attitude today, irritated by external factors and you were looking forward to Steven fucking it out of your system. When you tried to initiate it with him, to get him to give you what you needed, he pulled back to look at you in concern. He offered to talk first, and you got angry and scoffed in his face, ripping yourself from his grasp. He conceded, telling you to take your frustrations out on him as he sat on the couch you usually laid down on in your sessions, patting his thighs in invitation. You were supposed to ride him, putting all your energy into it and watching his brows furrow as he watched his length disappear inside you again and again.

Today, he was hell-bent on you cockwarming him, claiming it was supposed to get you talking quicker but you were highly doubting the validity of his statement with the way his cock was twitching inside you every few minutes. Your slick was coating your thighs and the hairs at the base of his member, flowing more freely the longer he sat unmoving inside your hot channel. Infuriatingly, he held your hips down with his impossible strength, looking up at you with those sweet brown eyes of his as he repeated his question. Shit, what was the question?

“Hmmm?” you managed, after another unsuccessful attempt at rolling your hips.

“I said, what’s got you so angry today, love? Talk to me. I’ll make it worth it, I promise, but first you have to be good and tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, nudging your chin with his shapely nose.

You had inhale deeply, your breathlessness making it hard for you to speak. God, he really was so thick, wasn’t he? He was filling you up so perfectly, stretching you out at this angle and you had to close your eyes to even think about what you were going to say.

“That girl at work… the one I told you about who leaves all her shit for me to clean up after her shift–”

“Mhmm, keep talking, love,” the vibrations from his chest felt like an electric shock through your body, your back arching at the sensations.

“Ahhh, she-she made a mistake, and blamed me… and, and then I got reamed out by my stupid manager,” you were close to crying now, the anger subsiding slowly, and the feeling of being denied by Steven taking over.

“Ohh, sweetheart, s’not right, is it?” He brushed your hair back and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm like a cat needing affection. “S’not your fault. Tell you what, maybe you should quit.”

“Maybe you should fuck me, come on, Steven, just–just make it go away, I need you,” you were whining pathetically, ready to let your fists land on his chest in a rage.

Steven tutted at you. He tutted, like you were a petulant child, like you were just having a tantrum, like a teacher gently disciplining a student, not like you were sitting on his cock, leaking all over him and the couch, staining the taupe suede material with your juices. Leaning forward to softly mouth at your neck, he whispers against it and lets his lips graze your skin.

“I wouldn’t be a good therapist if I didn’t let you talk about it first, would I? That’s not very ‘healing comes from within’ of me,” he laughed at the end of it, his hot breath burning you even further.

Oh, you hate him. You tightened your core when he laughed against you, the rumbling causing his cock to shift slightly and you let out a soft moan at the smallest amount of friction it granted you, and he unwillingly thrust upwards at the feeling. Oh, you knew how to get back at him.

Clenching around him again, you wait for his reaction as your lips touch the shell of his ear, whimpering, as he garbled out a choked out groan against your neck. Steven’s hips unwittingly thrust upwards again, knocking into your cervix just that small amount, enough to make you dig your nails into his shoulders where your hands were resting. You were both moaning now, and you think you can tease him like this until he finally gave in and fucked you from under you. You needed him to, therapy be damned.

Dragging your hands up into his hair, he shuddered when your nails scraped across his scalp. He licked his lips, the edge of his tongue grazing your neck before he pulled back to look into your eyes and the previous soft look he was giving you was gone, replaced with a heady look, eyelids low as his mouth was open and panting.

“No, but considering that you’re inside me right now, I’d say you’re halfway there,” you gasp as his hand shifts down to your ass, squeezing, fingers splayed wide and pulling at the flesh there.

You lean more into his chest, your breasts pressing into him now, his mouth sitting just so, dipping down to mouth at them through your top. Steven’s control was slowly slipping, his idea failing spectacularly as he pulled your hips to roll and grind on his. You squeezed your muscles around his thick and throbbing cock again, trying to entice him to pull out to the tip and buck up into you like you wished he would. You were gripping him so tight, and your slick was more than enough to make his movements smooth and yet Steven was holding back from giving you his all, his logic lost on you.

“Steven, please, I’m sorry for being short with you, I’m sorry, okay? Please just–”

You were cut off from your helpless begging when he decided he’d had enough, that you had suffered enough, that you learnt your lesson and that the anger you walked in with was gone, along with his restraint. Steven gripped your ass even tighter, his fingers pressing divots into your skin as he thrust up into you mercilessly, bouncing you on his length as you cried out for him.

His hands were squeezing you, keeping you wide open for him as he rendered you incoherent, pathetic moans and whines leaving you. With your mouth still close to his ear, your noises began spurring him on as he grunted with each pass of his cock into your hot cunt, desperate to reach his end. Your hands began bunching his blazer lapels, angry in the back of your head that he didn’t even take off his jacket when he sat you on his thick shaft. Your soft walls began fluttering around him, signaling that you were almost reaching your end, his relentless teasing having caught up with you now, hurtling you towards the edge quicker.

“Ohh, ffffuck, Steven I’m gonna–gonna come, yes,” you shouted, so close to your euphoria that you were desperate to reach. The way his cock was punching up into your cervix was just perfect, his smell overwhelming you, his hands squeezing you just right, everything was leading to this and you couldn’t help but whine when his thumb swiped at your clit once, twice–

You were coming hard.

His grunts and groans were muffled into your chest, his thrusts getting sloppy while he chased his own release, pulling your hips down to his so hard it almost hurt. Steven bucked his hips one final time before you felt the telltale pulsing inside of you, the warmth of his cum slowly trickling out from where you were still sheathed around him. He pulled back to look at it with brows raised, almost impressed at his own mess while still catching his breath.

“How are you feeling now, love? Still angry at me?”

“I wasn’t angry at you, Steven,” you sigh dazedly, shaking your head at him. “Silly man. But to answer your question, I’m feeling much better now that you’re done torturing me.”

Oh my god bru 😭

Yall crazy ass hell *reblogs*

ex-stepbro gojo would actually be something of a bully like he’d only help you with your hw if you sit on his face while letting him smell your panties so he can jerk off and he’ll make you lay down while he grinds against your cunt.

one day he kinda forced you to come over to his condo and you think that for once he isn’t gonna try to sex you up then he’s sucking on your tongue and promising to take care of you forever if you just break up with your boyfriend. he’s begging you and he’s never been more vulnerable maybe bc he he knows this is your longest relationship. he’s doing more and more for you — buying you everything you want and taking you on expensive dates, surprising you with vacations.

you finally just tell him okay and now he’s slurping your cunt and making you squirt all over his couch and fucking you on his table. once he’s fucked you at least five times he’s saying, “at least we got the meet the parent’s situation down” 😵‍💫 but you’re thinking how you want to just keep it a secret.

it’ll be hard to do that with how gojo is

this is SOSOSOSOSOSOOS GOOOOOODDDDDDD

CAM GIRL

pairing: modern!ellie x camgirl!reader

a/n: so nervous to post this. i didn't want to write a full fic, so this hc kinda thing happened. anyways, lmk what you think...

warnings: smut. mdni. -> sex work via live cam/stream. onlyfans/patreon/etc - no site is stated specifically, stripping, toys, masturbation (reader & ellie), exhibitionism, toys, toy riding (reader), strap-on use, dirty talk, hints of dom!reader, even smaller hints of dom!ellie

[dialogue = purple for ellie, blue for reader]

—★•°°•☆°••°★•°°•☆°••°★—

thinking about ellie dating a girl who cams...

—

"ellie, i wanna be really clear with you about what i do before we... you know?" "date?" "yeah. i just don't want any secrets where my job is concerned."

imagine her reaction when you first tell her. the way her eyes were half intrigue, half envy. on one hand, she thought it was incredible; the confidence you had in your own body and what to do with it. on the other hand, the confession from you caused her to grow more possessive. she felt almost sick, knowing that people all over the world were logging in to their profiles with only you in mind.

but that was at the beginning. after several months, pride swelled within her. you were making a lot of money through your sessions online, made clear by the fancy clothing, lingerie, even the apartment you'd bought for yourself. she could also tell that you enjoyed what you did. it made you feel confident and beautiful, and those feelings bled through to your sex life with ellie.

"fuck, i love your tits so much. love seein'm all beg to touch." "but only you can, els. c'mere and get them all wet with your pretty mouth."

"mm, babe, you like watching my ass when i fuck my toys, don't you?"

sometimes she worried about 'trolls', but you reassured her that you had a few moderators who would bat away any unsavoury comments before you could see them.

"see? if anyone says anything overly disgusting or offensive, it gets removed." "ever had to report or block anyone?" "mm, only a handful of creeps have made my blacklist."

then it was a couple of years into your relationship, and nine out of ten times when you were cam-ing, ellie would come over, either by yours or her own invitation.

"i'm live in 20, you can come over if you're quiet." "and what happens if i'm not?" "you wanna find out?"

"hey, i'm bored, you live? can i watch;)"

she loved to watch you, and you absolutely revelled in it. even your regular viewers had started noticing how you seemed to be even more enthusiastic than before. you wanted to impress ellie, despite already knowing how much she desired you.

when ellie came over during a cam session, you would make sure to put in the most effort with your look for the night. you would wear ellie's favourite colours, slap on a little extra makeup, and put on your best show.

"you were on fire tonight, princess."

"do you have glitter in your cleavage!?"

"you should do the war paint more often. it's hot."

"fake tattoos tonight?" "yeah, it was a request from a my best tipper... you like?" "hurry up and i'll show you how much i do."

ellie would be just out of shot, laying back against the pillows on your bed, one leg crossed over the other. she could never take her eyes off of you. she adored how you changed your voice just slightly on camera; still confident, but with an edge of shyness.

"y'all like the lace tonight, hm? i'm not quite sure if it suits me... tell me what you think, should i keep it or..."

her eyes travelled all over your body as you danced along to the beat of whatever song was playing gently in the background. and then, when it had been a few minutes into your show, and dollar signs started popping up on your screen, you reached for whatever item of clothing you were going to slowly, torturously remove. from that moment on, she was locked on you, following every glide of your fingertips over the straps of you bra, the soft material of your panties, or the thin lace stockings.

ellie always praised you for a good show when it was over. and whenever toys were used, she'd clean them for you, and on the occasion that you actually came for real after using said toys, she would offer to clean you up too. she'd bring you warm pyjamas and a hot drink and mentally congratulate herself for pushing away the urge to jump you after what felt like hours of teasing.

"god, that was so hot."

"you need water? your favourite snacks are on the side over there, too."

"els, help me up out of this mess, please. ugh, the fake spunk is so sticky." "wanna take a shower? maybe create some real mess?"

sometimes, she couldn't hold back, though. on most cam nights, she would be clenching her thighs and biting her lip, watching you with a wetness forming on her boxers. but she couldn't always hold back from touching herself. she'd watch you lifting your tits into full view of the camera, squeezing them and giggling at the comments that followed. then you'd push them together, wait a moment for more tips and then start to pinch at your hard nipples.

"mm, yeah, feels so good. should i pinch harder? want me to lick them for you darlings?"

eventually, inevitably, she'd end up sliding one hand into her underwear, the other fisting the sheets. as you bounced up and down on one of your silicone cocks, moaning out appreciations for the tips that flooded in on the screen, she'd reach her throbbing clit. her gaze would be glued to your slick hole that wept around the toy as you moved, and she'd match your rhythm on the toy with the circles she traced on herself.

when you first saw her doing this, you weren't surprised at all. in fact, it made you that much more smug and turned on, resulting in less of a need to fake your arousal for the people watching. you'd pretended to the camera that you were turning your head to bite your own shoulder, but in fact you were mouthing encouragements for her to fuck herself faster over a wink and a smirk.

"faster, babe. just like that."

"edge yourself, el. better not come until i'm done here."

then there was this one particular night. ellie had two of her fingers deep in her cunt, while you rode a thick, veiny fake cock that took several pumps of lube to sink down onto.

you'd bought it with only your girlfriend in mind. though, of course your viewers were impressed with it, too.

"ooh-oh-oh, i need it f-faster. you want me to go faster... huh loves? gonna need your help then."

it was her favourite colour, and you'd made sure it attached pefectly onto your shared strap harness. it also came with a companion toy that was a little smaller, but could also attach to the harness, so that ellie could have her own pussy stuffed as she - hopefully, if your little scenario panned out - pounded into you once the camera was off.

of course, this is exactly what happened. you couldn't stop trying to get a look at ellie as you heard her little pants. she was trying to stay as quiet as possible, and watching her slap a hand over her own mouth, muffling her pleasure as she got off to you, only made things worse. you sped up your movements for a few seconds, opening your mouth and letting out an exaggarated moan. you then licked your lips, smiling at the camera as floods of tips came in, a bunch of water emojis flickering on and off. you bid everyone goodnight, promising to be back again the night after next, then ended the session.

"fuuuuuuck yes! mmmm!"

"fucked me so good. thank you, sweethearts. go grab yourselves some water and i'll see you next time. buh-bye, huns. mm."

then you turned to ellie, her hand stilled in her boxers. you slowly pulled out the toy and then pushed it all the way back in with a groan. you watched ellie's eyes flash at the obscene wet sounds your pussy made. once more you pull the glistening toy out, so slowly that it draws out impatient whines from the both of you. you rub the head of the toy around your folds, spreading the glistening wetness all around your waiting entrance.

"did you come, babe?" "uh uh, saving it all for you tonight, love."

"want you to fuck me so hard that i won't be able to move." "fuckin' hell. come here, now!" "need one more thing."

you reach down to your 'cam box' and take out two things. you first toss ellie the harness, which has the smaller cock attached, something you'd gotten ready earlier. then, you crawl between her already spread legs, and make a show of attaching the still-wet toy, your pussy clenching at the sight, greedy for it to be back inside you.

"put it on."

"was thinking about you filling me up the whole time tonight. need it now." "gonna do it. gonna make it so you can't stand."

several times after that night, you'd jokingly discussed ellie joining you on your site.

"if you made me gush like that on live, we'd make so much, d'yuh know that?" "maybe, but i don't want anyone else seeing you like that. all fucked out and dribbling from you gorgeous little pussy. no, baby. that's a show only i get to watch."

—★•°°•☆°••°★•°°•☆°••°★—

if you're after more modern!ellie x cam girl!reader ->

CAM GIRL DRABBLE (ellie helps you film)

CAM GIRL: SPECIAL GUEST (part 2)

d- do you think villain katski would be into cnc with his lil bunny gf

haiiii nonnie! and yes ofkurs I do!! I kept thinking about this and I also came to the conclusion that villian katsuki, despite his reputation, would be willing to do anything his precious bunny gf desires! the problem is that I think as a bunny, u would be sooo bad at pretending u don’t want him!

pairing ꒱ katsuki + bunny hybrid reader (f) / warnings ꒱ cnc + rough sex + degradation + tiny bit of spit ꒰ cunny + bunny cunt /slut ꒱ / 18+

you just act reflexively, bunnies are not meant to be deceptive and cunning creatures!! they’re honest beings! every emotion you feel is easily identifiable.

even if you look scared, your snowball fluffy tail shaking and your floppy ears are a giveaway of your actual excitement. bakugou just thinks it’s freaking cute despite the fact that you still couldn’t even do your part :( bakugou on the other hand knows exactly what to do!

he makes you run around a crowded forest with prickly bushes and trees so you both would be hidden enough from potential prying eyes. he told you to wear something flimsy for easy access, and so you did. 

he hunts you like a predator, watching you carelessly frolic around. he strikes when you least expect it, catching you by surprise. he pushes you down on the cold ground to rip your panties off from under your skirt. he turns your body over to spread your warm ass cheeks to look at your rim and your glistening pussy. the cool air caressing your exposed lower half encourages your center to pulse. you weakly push and claw at him while he presses you firmly in the earth. 

“get off of me!” you scream, a small fist hits his hard and sculpted chest. he spits on your cunt and unfazed from your retaliation, he growls.

“gonna fucking ruin you, bunny.”

your knees dig into the dirt. you hold on to the small twigs that snap beneath your palms, while he holds your hips with great strength to insert himself inside. bunny girls are always so wet and creamy, so there wasn't much resistance besides your unbridled attempt at pushing him off of you.

“my cock is gonna rip your tiny little cunt.” from his vantage, he makes out the image of your puffy lips split around his shaft, leaving a trail of wetness as he thrust. 

“you shouldn’t have been out here out alone.” he chuckles darkly in that same goad tone he uses when he corners a pathetic hero. his words trigger your body into overdrive. you're more soaked than usual, feeling it pool just under your butt. the battle between your mind and body conflicted you as his cock continues to spear you.

you have to try harder to resist, your no has to be firmer, but the gruffness in his smooth and cocky expression made you squeeze around his cock tighter. his thick body on top of yours, the visible and obvious difference in size and strength, how his fingers dully marks you all encourages your attraction.

you almost prop your ass up for him higher until you remember what was actually supposed to be happening. bakugou aware of your mistake sucks his teeth.

“dumb bunny,” he mutters, but still he keeps going.

“no one can hear you scream.” his unoccupied hand aggressively squeezes your breast. he yanks down your blouse to free your nipples. “cute fuckin' tits.” he digs into the flesh of your breast. he thumbs and circles the puffy and flat surface until your nipples raise under his finger tips in excitement, until their taut and swollen.

he trails his hand down until it hovers over your beating cunt.

“I wanna use this pussy until you start crying.” he lightly pulls your nub between his thumb and pointer. a stream of slick escapes dousing his length as you abruptly flinch from the suddenness .

“might even take you home and make you my personal bunny slut—just so I can use your leaky pussy whenever i fuckin’ want.”

use me. yes, please use me, is the only thing in your brain, but you bite your tongue.

“n-no. don’t touch me. my boyfriend will be really mad!" you exclaim. you feel nervous as your mind blanks. how could you possibly concentrate when your pussy was roughly fondled and stuffed.

“oh yeah?” he slows his pace only just by a bit, intrigued by your outcry. “whos your boyfriend?” he asks.

you pause for a second to think. “he's a big a-and scary villain and he’s really strong too!” red half lidded eyes peer down at you. bakugou displays a broad grin, seemingly pleased from what he heard.

“so you're gonna tell your big and scary boyfriend how you let me violate you, hm?” he hums. “how you let me hit it raw?”

while kneeled, he leans back slightly on his calves. with his hands still on your sides, the shift forces you even deeper on his cock.

“only cuz you made me.” your accusation comes out slurred as you bounce your ass on his lower abdomen. 

“i made you? if that’s the truth why are you dripping on my cock like a messy whore?” he guides your movement with such effortlessness that you couldn't fathom it. the whirs in your brain stop turning and moans spills from your mouth instead of a reply.

“see, just look how dumb you are on my dick.”you knew you couldn't keep pretending for much longer. not when he pulls your bunny ears and ball of a tail while he fucking you.

“wan' more,” you weep and bakugou moans unusually loud from your helpless demand.

“haah—god, fuck, you’re not supposed to be enjoying this, baby.” his pants are coming out deeper.

“I’m supposed to -ah- supposed to be defiling you, ruining your innocence. t-try to act more fuckin’ scared, would ya?” his veiny hands holds you down while he hammers into you. his thighs meeting yours and his balls thumping against your mound.

“I’m sorry, suki.”

bakugou gets rougher with his thrust, his weight now crushing you as he strikes your insides with his thick cock. the hand on your tail then binds your wrist as he gets closer to cumming . he moves faster until wind is just an echo of the impact of skin colliding.

“cummin- fuckin’ cummin in your bunny cunt.”

tongue flopping out of your mouth and body extra sensitive to his fucking, you cutely prattle. “y-yeah. like it s’much when you violate my cunny.” bakugou likes it a lot when you talk dirty like that. 

“yeah i know you do. i know you love it when i fuck that pretty pussy.” now he starts to babble because its dizzying. you're dizzying.

when he does release, of course it’s inside of you. when he pulls out his softening and cum dripping cock from your cunt, he takes the tip of his thumbs to separate your engorged and wet lips. just to watch the cum drip out of your hole on to the dirt. with your ass bruised and lovely outfit dirtied; it’s the prettiest his bunny gf has ever looked . even when you're pathetically wiggling your ass at him with pleading eyes.

“suki, more please?”

he just looks at u like this >.>

he's justa tiny bit grumpy bc he thinks you gave in a little tooo easy, but the good news he's always willing to try again :p

SCRUMDILLYYUMYUM U ATE THAT

PART 01 feat. NANAMI KENTO & SUGURU GETO.

⊹ ｡ ‧ ₊ 5k

⊹ ｡ ‧ ₊ the ghosts from his past are too real and his scars are too deep; suguru is not collected and calm like nanami, he's not soft spoken and affectionate. he's hot-headed, blunt and impulsive. and yet, somehow, he found himself being so utterly devoted to and loved by the two people who were his complete opposites.

⊹ ｡ ‧ ₊ [N]SFW CONTENT + fem!reader + poly relationship + mafia!nanami + right hand man!suguru + mentions of violence and guns + mentions of alcohol and drugs + mentions of blood + daddy kink + dacryphilia + oral sex + size kink + choking + impact play + dumbification + hate fucking + voyeurism + suguru hates reader but not for long + angst + lots of smut + degradation & praise + name calling [ little slut, whore ].

your breath is caught in your throat as you taste the tears that slide down your cheeks, sweet and sour delight touching your lips as you manage to rip a groan from him by sinking your teeth into his arm. there’s no room to breathe when your body is pressed down on the mattress, his own erratic pants and grunts telling you how close he is. you bury your face on the pillow to muffle your loud and broken moans, babbling nonsense under your breath.

suguru holds the soft skin of your shoulder between his teeth, drawing out a whimper from your swollen lips that sucked him off earlier after he came home smelling like gunpowder and cigarettes. his sweat clings to your own skin and mixes with the juices from your arousal and his own spit. the total filth and passion that you share fill the room with some kind of heavy and almost palpable atmosphere, you feel like you could faint from the way he thrusts his hips into you, so boringly slow but furiously hard, as if he’s trying to make you remember the feeling of his cock inside you forever, to make you dream about it. 

suguru will often grunt into your ear as he slides his shaft out of your cunt just to slam it back into you, he’ll lick your tears away and fill your mouth with his fingers, he’ll squeeze your sensitive breasts and kiss your lips sweetly. he fulfills your need for praise and encouragement with his actions, his big calloused hands are so devoted to your body that his touches say a lot more than any empty phrase that he could tell you. 

he does talk when he feels himself tripping over the edge, hips slapping against your ass as he hooks his arm under your belly to put you on all fours. you can barely hold yourself in that position, arms giving up as he keeps your ass in the air with his hands holding your waist. the only sounds coming from you are the pitiful whines and little moans caused by suguru’s girth stretching your cunt, the line between pain and pleasure is almost invisible at this point.

“fuck⏤’m gonna cum.”

that’s the only time he says something and you can barely hear it, gripping the sheets under you and gasping for air as another orgasm comes like a tsunami, you scream into the pillow as suguru fucks his own cum into you. he falls by your side on the bed, pulling your limp body closer to him. he kisses your cheek before you close your eyes.

the soft sounds of your footsteps echo through the corridor as you walk towards the big carved wooden door at the end of it. it’s late, too late for you to be awake and trembling from the cold but you need to see him. he doesn’t look up from his laptop when you enter the room, remaining in silence as his eyes shift from the right to the left as he reads something ⏤ the cigarette between his fingers is nearly finished, almost burning his knuckles.

“daddy?” you call, causing him to lift his eyes from his computer.

for the first time in the day, nanami feels some kind of positive feeling lightning up in his chest. he gives you a warm smile before putting out his cigarette on the ashtray and patting his lap. he watches as you make your way to him, rubbing the sleep from your pretty eyes and sitting on his lap, slightly wincing when your clothed core presses against his thigh.

“was suguru rough to you again, my little petal?” he questions, licking his lips to kiss the tip of your nose. you shake your head and hide your face in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply in his ambrosial scent. your body immediately reacts to the warmth and comfort of his embrace, his fingertips scratching the back of your head softly make you roll your eyes in amusement.

nanami presses his face on your hair, a tangled and soft mess of strands that he adores so much, smelling the fresh perfume from your shampoo. you both stay silent for a while, listening to each other's soft breaths, until you lift your head from his shoulder. 

"are you coming to bed with us tonight?" 

it's a simple question but it still causes nanami to sigh frustratedly. 

"i can't, my petal," he responds, immediately regretting his words when you blink some tears away. "i have so much to do⏤" 

"but you promised!" you protest, sulking at his stubbornness. 

he did promise you, like he promised yesterday and the day before yesterday but still couldn't bring himself to forget about his work. the guilt caused his heart to ache deeply, he couldn't watch the way you sulk and cling to his shirt desperately without deciding that work could wait for one night. only for tonight. 

he sighs, "right, let's go to bed then, angel." 

he closes his laptop before getting up with you in his lap, your legs and arms wrap around his body tightly and you almost fall asleep on the way back to the bedroom.

nanami places you carefully on the bed next to a naked, almost falling asleep, suguru, your body quickly being drawn to his warmth as you rest your face on his shoulder. silently, nanami undresses himself so he can comfortably lie down by your side, watching the way your eyelids flutter in your sleep. 

"she asked about you all day." the hoarse and low voice catches nanami's attention, his eyes shifting to suguru's face. the man is lying on his side with you between his arms, your cheek pressed against his beefy arm making nanami look at you adoringly. "she said she texted you a thousand times but you didn't text back." 

nanami sighs, running his hand through his blonde hair frustratingly. "what did she do today?" 

suguru licks his lips, "she had her online classes then we went to the ice cream shop, she wanted to buy you an ice cream but i told her you wouldn't be able to⏤" suguru notices the discomfort in nanami's eyes, clearing his throat and changing the subject. "anyway, we got back and she did some homework before we watched a movie. It was silly but… it was nice. maybe it was the way she laughed at every dumb joke that made it better." suguru explains as nanami pays attention to every word, eyes fixed on suguru's lips. "then some dumb fuck messed something up with the packages and i had to solve it but don’t worry, fushiguro kept his eyes on her until i came back and…”

suguru stops, eyes on nanami’s face but not really looking at him as he thinks about earlier.

“and?” nanami insists, arching an eyebrow.

he shakes his head, stuttering, “she was feeling lonely, i guess. and we… did it.”

nanami’s chuckle rumbles inside his chest, “you know you can say you fucked her, right? i really don’t mind.”

“i just don’t want to discuss how i fucked your girlfriend, old man,” suguru snickers, lowering his voice progressively as you let out a whine in your sleep.

“you should,” kento responds, putting his head over his arms lazily, looking at suguru’s questioning face. “how would i know you’re really all that great, hum?”

geto smirks and shakes his head in disbelief, “i think you know how good i am by the way she was walking earlier, don’t you?”

“i do,” nanami says. “but i want you to tell me, suguru.”

he sighs, noticing that the man was serious about wanting him to explain the details, closing his eyes briefly and replaying the scenes that happened earlier.

“i got home and she was in bed,” he starts as nanami listens carefully. “reading the book you got her, she thought it was you walking into the room but when she noticed it was me she just… threw herself in my arms and cried.” suguru spoke, remembering how pretty you looked with tears in your eyes. “she said something about missing you and asked if i could make it go away. and i did. i mean, how could i tell her no? and when i thought she wanted me to fuck her she got on her knees in front of me, not caring that i was so fuckin’ sweaty and dirty, she just opened my pants and starting lickin’ my dick⏤fuck, i can’t do this right now, man.”

“keep going, suguru,” nanami insists, rolling to the side to face his right hand man.

suguru clenches his jaw when long and slender fingers find his leg, featherlight touches on the skin of his inner thigh as nanami drags his hand up, dangerously close to suguru’s crotch. 

“she⏤ fuck, she didn’t put me in her mouth right away, she spent some time licking and kissing my dick before trying to fit it in her mouth,” he explains, sucking on a breath when nanami touches the base of his dick.

“how did it feel, hum?” he asks. “i bet it felt amazing, didn’t it?” suguru rubs his face with his hand, pinching the place between his eyes in deep confusion and frustration, fighting the thoughts of giving himself into nanami’s dominance. his boss’s hand wraps around his soft cock, rubbing the head with his thumb. it felt so different from your soft and small hands that struggled to fully wrap around him, nanami’s hands are much bigger and rough. his movements are quick and precise in comparison to your timid demeanor, the older man knows exactly what he's doing and there’s no hesitation in his actions. 

“how did i feel, suguru? tell me.” 

he can’t help but thrust his hips into nanami’s hand, feeling his cock stiffening slowly with his touch. 

“it felt fuckin’ amazing,” he admits, looking away from his boss’s intense gaze. “she always feels so fuckin’ amazing i almost came as soon as she put me in her mouth.”

nanami grins in amusement, “of course, my little doll always does her best to make the people she loves happy.” the way geto moans and immediately bites his own arm to muffle his sounds catches kento’s attention. “perhaps, you both engaged in something far more interesting than just a blowjob, am i right?” nanami pumps his hand around suguru’s cock, his shaft already fully erect and throbbing with desire. “tell me, darling, did her tight little pussy also twitch and spasm around your dick? did it felt so incredible you also had the thought of staying inside her forever?” his toes curl and his teeth sink into the skin of his arm. “look at me, suguru.” he does, blurred vision by the tears that fill his eyes as nanami gives one more pump around his cock, sending suguru to the edge. “cum.” suguru lets himself go into his own desire, contradicting the insecurities and fear that screamed inside his head. 

he woke up later that night to smoke and didn’t hold himself from crying.

“fuckin’ mess.”

the black haired man grunts, walking through the room with his hands on his waist, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he wonders what’s the next step. nanami puts out his cigarette, sighing deeply.

“it’s temporary, boys,” he assures. “whoever did this just put a target on their own back, the entire city will be on their tail soon enough.”

“boss, don’t you think it’s better to get out of town for a while? at least until things get calmer?” fushiguro asks.

suguru glances at nanami, trying to decipher the look on the man’s face.

“we don't need to get ahead of ourselves, fushiguro.” he rests his back on the leather chair. “we’re safer here than anywhere else. we’ll stay.”

“are you out of your fucking mind?”

the air gets thick with tension quickly, both men gazing at each other intensely but silently.

nanami clears his throat, “warn the men to keep their eyes open tonight, fushiguro.”

the man gets up from where he was seated, looking at both of them before getting out of the room. nanami walks to the front of the table, leaning over it and crossing his arms. suguru doesn't quickly regrets contradicting his boss’s order, not feeling even slightly intimidated by his indecipherable expression and intense gaze but by the invisible and silent power he has over him. nevertheless, suguru keeps his chin up and chest puffed, mimicking nanami’s pose in an attempt to intimidate him.

“what is it, suguru?" he questions softly." if you're worried about our petal's safety know that she's a lot tougher than you think she is."

he scoffs, "that won't stop a bullet from getting through her skull, will it?" suguru blurts out, sighing in frustration when nanami doesn't change his expression. "someone just exploded a truck full of our packages, nanami. it's only a matter of time until they explode one of our cars or this fuckin' house," he breaths deeply in an attempt to calm his erratic breath. "we can replace drugs and weapons, nanami. but i can't replace you or her and i won't forgive myself if something happens to any of you." 

nanami nods comprehensively, getting closer to suguru so he can reach for his hand, putting it against his warm cheek. suguru parts his lips as he gazes deeply into nanami’s eyes, dark pupils that could hide so many secrets and desires. it’s hard for the man to not let his heart ache when kento looks at him like that, in some way it feels like the kind of look he only gives you, his angel, his life. something inside suguru tells him he should feel grateful for being able to receive such a look from nanami, but he still can’t bring himself to understand why he’d stare at him like that. he should only be capable of looking at you like that, someone who cured his deepest scars and brought back his softness and laughter, someone who nanami could find comfort in. suguru could never give kento any of that, the sweetness and the embrace he craved for. you're one of those people who deserve to experience love to its limits, still, suguru couldn't accept that he also deserved to love you. 

the ghosts from his past are too real and the scars are too deep; suguru is not collected and calm like nanami, he's not soft spoken and affectionate. he's hot-headed, blunt and impulsive. and yet, somehow, he found himself being so utterly devoted and loved by the two people who were his complete opposites. 

“what’s in your mind, dear?” 

suguru blinks, thumb caressing nanami’s cheek as he gets closer to his face, lips barely touching. his nose bumps against the man’s nose before kissing him, awakening the aching spot inside his chest that longed for relief. 

that night, you had wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him while nanami undressed you. suguru missed the nights he spent dreaming about you and not being able to touch you, because he’s sure that getting your warm and soft skin so close to him turned him into a mad man, drunk in your scent and addicted to the angelic aura that surrounded you. he didn’t wish you to call him “daddy” like you call nanami, listening to his name dancing in your tongue as he licks and sucks the sweet juices from your cunt is enough, he can die a happy man when you tell him how good he's making you feel. 

there’s no need to explain what he feels or why, it’s like you and kento already knew what he craved for. nanami kisses you passionately, swallowing the pretty moans that come out of your mouth, suguru’s tongue lapping at your wet pussy with impatience and hunger, his roughness making your legs shake violently. he lifts his head from between your legs, your arousal and his spit dripping down his chin to which nanami is glad to lick away from his face, crashing his lips into the man’s mouth.

suguru didn’t cry that night.

your eyes were puffy and red when he first saw you.

your arms hugged your own body in an attempt to calm your own cries down, body trembling as the cold air of the mansion’s garden surrounded your bare legs and arms. suguru frowns when you lift your eyes to gaze at him, warm and dark eyes are blurry from all the tears that are falling non stop. his hand reaches for the gun hidden in his holster, staring you from head to toe as you let out another gasp for air as you sob.

suguru expected anything when he heard that the main gate was open and that there was someone at the garden of one the most infamous men in town. he certainly didn’t expect to find a crying young woman.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, a careful and hesitant finger on the trigger. he watches as you swallow hard, body trembling like you’re a little bunny startled by something. he only then notices the thin line of blood dripping from your knee, the skin of your leg was slightly scratched and swollen. suguru sighs when you don’t respond, lifting his hand and pointing the gun in your direction. strangely enough, you don’t react to his sudden movement, keeping your eyes glued on him. “who the fuck are you?”

the way you kept gazing at him with such deep confusion and sweetness infuriated him, the impetuous man tilting his head and licking his lips nervously, aiming the gun on your forehead.

“put the gun down, geto.” suguru doesn’t need to look to the side to know it's nanami, taking a few seconds before lowering his arm, putting his gun in the holster. your eyes soften as kento makes his way in your direction, grabbing your hand gently and placing his own over yours reassuringly. “you’re safe now, little petal. my men will take care of the person who did this.” you nod, sniffing your tears away. “now, let’s take care of your bruises, shall we?”

suguru watches as nanami guides you into the mansion with his hand on your lower back, he quickly realizes you’ve been robbed by your lack of purse or cell phone, the person who did that, not content with stealing your backpack, also pushed you against the rough asphalt, causing your elbows and knees to get bruised. even in your vulnerable state, you must be dumb or incredibly naive to enter the house of someone you just met, let alone allow nanami to clean your bruises and put a band-aid over them, smiling sweetly when he offers you some juice and snacks.

suguru watches intently as you and nanami chat on the balcony, his dad jokes and lighthearted compliments making you giggle. it must be some kind of magic or spell, you must be a witch trying to pull nanami into your web, anesthetizing his senses and turning him into a weak man.

geto hates weak men.

so he doesn’t look in your direction when you ask him what he wants after he knocked on the door of nanami’s room to find you wearing the thinnest piece of fabric he’s ever seen, pink satin babydoll making your skin glow under the yellow lights of the room. he frowns and bites his tongue hard, a metallic taste filling his mouth.

he had encountered you through the corridors of the mansion many times wearing the same garments, sometimes even nothing more than nanami’s button up shirt, walking to the kitchen and getting yourself some ice cream. you don’t see him sitting in the armchair, completely hidden in the darkness of the room as you eat your dessert.

that’s what you wanted from nanami? ice cream? he expected more from you; he hoped he’d wake up by the sound of the alarms announcing that you stole some of nanami’s jewelry and money and ran away driving one his sport cars.

but the truth was horrifyingly more painful than the thought of letting a little minx like you in their lives who only wanted to steal from them. the truth was that nanami and you were slowly falling in love with each other. 

it took him two or three months until he first heard it at the other side of the door.

“please, daddy…” you breathe, suguru hears something falling on the floor and a low groan. hesitantly, he opens the door just enough to stick his head inside, the low lights hiding his presence as nanami kisses the inside of your thighs lovingly, your body beautifully lying on his office table with your legs open. suguru sucks on a breath but can’t stop himself from looking at you, the thin straps of your babydoll were completely tugged down to expose your full breasts, sensitive nipples being pinched by nanami’s skilled hands.

you let out a long whine when the blonde man dives into your pussy, eating you out under the weak light coming from the table lamp. nanami’s hands run through your body curiously, caressing your soft skin and squeezing your boobs, groaning into your wet pussy. suguru watches as his boss gets up from the chair and pulls you up to kiss you, his hand on your hair as the other one unzips his trousers desperately. geto feels his own cock stiffening at the scene happening before his eyes, nanami fills you up with one quick thrust, smirking at the pitiful little whine you let out.

“shit, my sweet girl feels so good.” his hand wraps around your pretty neck as he thrusts his hips into you slowly, nanami holds eye contact long enough to make you feel shy but you can’t deny the way your walls clench around his cock. “i’ve wanted to do this for such a long time,” he closes his eyes, inhaling the sweet scent in your neck, holding your waist like you could break at any moment. your legs wrap around him, pulling him in your direction so his cock is settled as deep as possible. 

nanami feels drunk, drinking from the sweet moans and pleas that fall from your pretty lips. he feels high by the way you grip his shoulders and ask him to fuck you harder, his fingers rubbing your clit quickly but precisely, ripping a loud moan from you that ring through his ears. nanami lays you on the table again, watching the way your tight pussy swallows his cock like it was meant to be.

suguru prefers to believe it was just a dream, that you didn’t whimper so sweetly that caused him to palm his own cock frustratedly that night. he prefers to believe you didn’t throw your head over the edge of the table and look him directly in the eyes after cumming.

geto tries to act like you’re insignificant for the rest of that month until nanami has to get out of town quickly to deal with a smaller gang that was reselling their weapons for lower prices, causing a problem that made nanami to get up from his bed without telling you anything and leaving suguru to keep his eyes on you.

as he expected, you didn’t like that even one bit.

you’re trying to call his phone when suguru enters the room.

“he'll be back soon,” he warns and watches as you ignore him, texting nanami for the millionth time that day. "he won't reply, he must be driving back."

you finally give up after a few minutes, throwing your body on the bed dramatically, your body bounces as the last rays of sunshine that enter through the window  bathe your skin, honey and sugar dripping from your eyes as you look at the man standing by the door. you lift yourself on your elbows, the straps of your sundress falling off your shoulders.

“what’s the matter with you?” you ask, tilting your head and running your eyes through his body, noticing the way suguru crosses his arms making his muscles look even more appealing. “are you nanami’s guard dog or somethin’?”

he frowns at that, licking his lips to hide a smile. 

“i’m a friend, just a friend,” he states. “are you nanami’s slut or something?”

you blink at the sudden question, arching your eyebrow and smirking. 

“if i was, would that bother you?”

suguru walks towards your splayed body on the bed, hands inside his pockets as he looks down at you, your chest goes up and down with your rapid breath. slowly, suguru hovers over you, big arms caging you within his frightening presence.

“i know what you are,” he spoke, eyes watching the very little details of your face, his long dark hair falling by the sides of his face like curtains. “or do you think your silly disguise as an innocent and stupid girl would last long?” he provokes, heat rising in his body when you grin. “it’s only a matter of time until nanami sees it too.”

you click your tongue, “i really get in your nerves, don’t i, suguru?” the way you say his name makes him hold his breath. “are you jealous? do you wish it was you between my legs?” you tease, your sweet voice crashing with your provoking words. suguru scoffs, opening his mouth to reply but stopping when you put your hands on his chest. “or maybe you wanted to be me? you wanted to be me when daddy was fuc⏤” 

his hand moves quicker than his mind, wrapping it around your throat and making you whine. he doesn’t squeeze it but keeps you in place, your eyes darkening as his face moves closer.

“don't you fuckin' play with me, little whore.” he grunts, gritting his teeth at you.

the teasing smile is replaced by your parted lips and a small frown of your eyebrows, your eyes staring at his lips before he crashes his lips into you. teeth and tongue, desperation and nervousness dancing through the tension that was built for so many months in quick glances and provocations from both parts. 

“suguru⏤ah!” you exclaim, his much bigger hands squeezing every single part of your body, turning you around and dipping his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass and thighs, his face is pressed on your neck in the blink of an eye. he delivers a hard slap on your bottom with no hesitation, listening to the way you scream in protest.

“not so tough now, hum?” he provokes, hand running up your thigh and finding the delicate fabric of your panties under your dress. “beg for it.” you grunt, trying to move your head but his grip on your neck pressing your face against the mattress stops you from doing so. he smirks when you don’t respond, curious fingers squeezing your ass. “maybe nanami is right for keeping you close,” he comments, licking his lips at the vision of your clothed pussy. “i bet this little cunt is so tight it got that old man acting all stupid, am i right?” he scoffs.

“he⏤” you start, grunting when his fingers rub against your core. “he loves me, you asshole!”

suguru chuckles, tugging your laced panties to the side and exposing your soft puffy lips, his index fingers pressed in between your labia and separate them, allowing him to see your clenching hole. you squirm under him, biting your lip at the way he’s not even bothered by that, easily holding you down with just one hand. you’re simply a small creature he got in his trap, having nowhere to run or to whom to call. and if you’re honest, you don’t want him to stop.

“beg for it.” he repeats, taking off his belt and unzipping his pants. 

you groan, “fuck you.”

suguru smirks, having way too much fun with your stubborn ass. he pulls you to the edge of the bed roughly and yanks your hips up, parting your legs so he can press his crotch on your core. your eyes are wide at the feeling of his thick cock touching you, you can barely see it due to the angle but it still makes you whimper. 

“beg for it, c’mon,” he insists, tugging his boxers down and rubbing the pink and leaking head on your pussy, the friction against your clit makes you jolt. “i know how much you want my cock since the first time you saw me.” suguru spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way your juices coat the head of his shaft. “now i want you to cry just like that, baby. you’ll cry like a good little whore on my cock, do you understand?”

you moan frustratedly, “fuck, suguru! just fuck me already, please!”

the man smirks, “that’s my girl.”

the animalist groan he lets out fills the room, sliding his cock into your tight pussy and watching it as it stretches your walls. your eyes fill with tears at his desperate thrusts, hips giving up as he presses your body down, his weight almost suffocating you at the process. suguru’s mind drowns in his own pleasure, his brain being dominated by your scent and skin, closing his eyes at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his dick so tightly he feels lightheaded. 

“oh my⏤shit, suguru!” your mouth is quickly filled by his fingers, you drool and bite down at his digits. his hand tangles in your hair, pulling it backwards so he can kiss your lips again, melting under the taste of your mouth.

suguru finds himself almost cumming when his gaze locks with another pair of dark eyes by the door, the smoke of the cigarette coming out his nostrils and mouth as he watches his right hand man biting down your shoulder. he sips on his whiskey glass, smirking when you grip the sheets and beg suguru to let you cum.

reblogs + comments are super important to keep me motivated so feel free to let me know what's your opinions about my works! ♡

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If ever a man was deserving of a blow job it’s Joel Miller

A/N: joel x f!reader. blow job duh.

He comes home at odd hours and sometimes he doesn’t come home at all. It’s not even your place–it’s his. His shitty room with four walls and a peach couch sprouting stuffing. It’s not a Joel couch. He probably would have had a La-Z-Boy. 

You wait. You wait and listen to the radio. Get really well acquainted with the 80’s catalogue. You're his ears when he’s gone. It really isn’t a job, but it’s the small things you can do for him.

***

“Move over,” he mutters in a low voice. It’s the middle of the night, his hands are cold as he pushes you to the edge of the mattress. You’re an inch from rolling off before his strong arms wrap around your waist and haul you back to his chest. 

“How was today?”

“Shitty.”

“Did you eat?”

He mumbles something noncommital into your hair and squeezes you, sealing you to his front to leach your warmth.

You trace his scars that drag across his forearm. You prod the dry skin, sunspots and freckles. His mouth is nearly latched to the nape of your neck, his breath puffing evenly. He’s exhausted, which isn’t a surprise. He works day in and day out in addition to all the illegal shit he’s running. 

He’s always running. 

***

In the morning, you push him onto his back. The sun filters through his windows, spouting through moth-eaten curtains. There are dust motes in the air. The smell of dirt and Joel, which is something like sawdust and gunpowder. Wood finish. The interior of an old car. He grunts when you slide between his legs, docile because he's still threaded with grogginess. He slept in his clothes, and you take care as you gingerly remove them. 

He does peek one eye at you to make sure you aren’t some creep who’s slipped into his room to take advantage.

"It's me," you grin, and he blinks before shutting his eyes again. Typical.

You like to study him like this. He’s ruddy and baked from the sun. He’s all scrapes and silver-dark hair and his middle is soft from age. He's unnaturally strong, but some parts of him just don't tighten anymore.

Your gaze flickers from his face to the sparse hairs at his chest and then to his groin. You touch his cock, skating your nails over the shaft. It twitches, hardens almost immediately. You lower your head and take him into your mouth.

Joel stiffens, jerks a little as his knees come up and his hand flies to your scalp. “What’re you–”

You release him for a moment. “Relax, baby. Let me do this for you.”

His eyes are still foggy and unfocused, his brow furrowed so deep it might crack his skin. He’s so serious all the fucking time and you’d wish he’d just unknot himself for once. Loose the strings that bind him so painfully to his past.

You settle onto your knees before you wrap your lips around his cock, swallowing him down until the head hits the back of your throat. You gag, drool bunching around your gums as you clench the inner walls of your mouth. 

He does not expect that because he arches.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Jesus–honey–”

You place one hand on his belly and the other at his balls. You tug them, massage their weight just as you draw back enough to dip your tongue into the slit at the tip of his cock. A rumble burns through his chest. The hand on your head tightens. 

You hollow your cheeks and utilize a deliberate suction. After fucking Joel for months, you understand the things he likes: roughness, a dash of pain, and the promise of filth. You ease off before you return with a vengeance. You gently scrape your teeth along the frenulum, soothing the graze with a lick. It’s a sloppy blow job for sure, but that’s what he needs. His brown eyes stay locked on your own, his pink tongue sweeps over his lower lip as his hips buck against your chin. A muscle in his jaw spasms and his heels are digging into the mattress. He looks incredibly young as if you're seeing a Joel invigorated with his old youth because you're sucking him off like a porn star.

“You’re fucked,” he groans, head tipping back as he shudders through another round of you playing with his balls while deep throating him. “You’re so so fucked, sweetheart.”

You watch his belly tense, the tendons in his arms and throat snap to attention as you escalate the pressure, gag a little louder, stroke him faster while he stares at you with incredulity. 

You? This? Where the fuck did you learn how to suck dick like that?

“Shit,” he hisses as you feel him swell, his cock is pulsing in your mouth and against your palm like a living thing. His fingernails are scratching beneath your hair. He’s breaking….

And then he does.

He goes all stiff and hot before you feel the warm rush of his spend salt your tongue and throat. You nearly choke on it before you pull away, hand subtly pressed to your lips. You try and leave the bed, but he's already sitting up on his knees. His cock red and hanging between his legs, all flushed and wet with your spit. 

“You’re dead, girl,” he husks as he beckons you toward him. “Get back on here and turn the fuck around.”

He’s kind of smiling.