Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
It happened every time Sukuna would nap, his stomach mouth would awaken like another whole entity itself and start talking to you, somehow sensing your presence every time.
Its voice, deeper than Sukuna’s yet still extremely similar, drawled out slowly. “I have always wondered what you’d taste like, woman.”
Your throat bobs nervously. “Can’t you taste things from both mouths?”
He hummed ‘no’, lip twitching up into a smirk. “Care to appease my wishes? I can already feel you throbbing on my thigh.”
You shift upon Sukuna’s lap, the man himself still deep in sleep. He remained with his eyelids fluttered closed as you slipped off the silk robe you were wearing and discarded your underwear, slowly shuffling up his abdomen until you were hovering over the stomach mouth.
“Don’t leave a starved man waiting,” the stomach growled beneath you, breath touching in between your legs and making your thighs squeeze against either side of his torso.
Hesitantly, you lowered yourself down until the thick tongue pressed flat against your heat, sinking into your slick and licking a long strip fron your hole to your clit. Your nails dig into your husbands skin immediately, lower lip tucked between your teeth to try and quieten your moans.
“Are- are you sure about this?” You ask tentatively, glancing up at Sukuna sleeping soundly.
“Mmm,” the mouth hums in pleasure. “Very sure.”
You writhed and moaned atop him, head tipping back in ecstasy, any remaining sensibility leaving your brain the second the long, thick tongue delved into your hole and ate you out as if you were its last meal and it was the sweetest thing it had ever tasted.
You’d finished twice already when Sukuna grumbled on the bed, hands twitching and eyes flickering, threatening to open and expose you of your current act. The speed at which you pull off his stomach makes the bed shake violently, throwing the discarded robe over your naked body as quickly as possible.
It’s your erratic movements that causes your husband to fully wake, slipping from unconsciousness and blindly reaching for you. You settle down next to him casually. “I’m here, Ryo.”
“Hm,” he grumbles sleepily. “Did you rest?”
You nod. “Mhm.”
“Good.”
There’s a beat of silence as you both settle down to sleep again.
cw: explicit smut, toji eats you out on the phone w/ shiu.
Toji’s got you spread out on the living room couch, one leg hooked over the backrest, the other pushed up and out by the iron grip of his forearm. Your shorts and panties are long gone—crumpled somewhere on the floor—and his broad shoulders keep you pinned open.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He didn’t even pause—just reached over with one lazy hand, thumbed it to speaker, and answered without lifting his head. “Yeah?” Voice rough, muffled against your pussy.
Shiu’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Yo, you busy? Got a job lead, need to talk details. You free to call?”
Toji dragged his tongue up slow circling your clit with the tip before sucking it into his mouth hard enough to make your back arch off the couch. You slapped a hand over your own mouth to muffle the whimper.
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny with you, breath hot against your throbbing cunt. “Yeah,” he drawled casually, “I’m free. Just eatin’. What’s up?”
Shiu snorted on the other end. “Eatin’? This late? You order takeout or somethin’?” Toji’s tongue flicked out again lapping at your entrance before plunging inside, fucking you with slow, deep strokes. Your thighs trembled around his head, pussy soaking his face. “Somethin’ like that,” Toji muttered, voice thick, lips brushing your clit with every word. “Tastes perfect. Real fuckin’ good.”
You whined and despite your best efforts the sound carried. Shiu paused. “…You good, man? Sounds like you’re multitasking.”
Toji laughed as he sucked your clit again, hard, popping off with a wet sound that was obscene even over the phone. “Yeah,” he rasped, dragging his tongue flat up your slit one more time, slow enough to make your eyes roll back. “Just… enjoying my meal. Keep talkin’.”
Shiu sighed, clearly suspicious but too used to Toji’s bullshit to push. “Alright, whatever. So the job’s in Shibuya—client wants it quiet, double the pay if we wrap by Friday—”
Toji hummed like he was listening, but his mouth never stopped. One thick finger slid inside you—then two making your thighs squeeze around him harder. You were dripping down his chin, soaking the collar of his shirt. He didn’t care. Just kept eating like your pussy was the only thing on his mind while Shiu droned on about payout and timelines. “—you in or what?” Shiu finished.
Toji pulled back just long enough to answer, lips swollen, “Mhm,” he finally grunts into the phone, voice lazy. “Double’s good. Send me the location.”
He dives back in without missing a beat—tongue fucking into you deep while his thumb circles your clit in tight, relentless little strokes. Shiu keeps talking logistics—times, entry points, cleanup—none the wiser. Toji responds in short, gruff sentences, each one punctuated by another long lick or a slow suck that makes your hips buck against his face.
Then Shiu pauses. “Yo… what the hell are you eating over there? Sounds like it tastes fuckin’ good. You got some gourmet shit or what?”
Toji laughs against your pussy, “Yeah. Real fuckin’ good. Best meal I’ve had in a while.” You’re mortified and soaked and you feel like you about to fucking cum with Shiu on the phone. Shiu laughs. “Man, save some for me next time. Sounds like you’re enjoying the hell outta that.” He laughs slurping louder, “Nah, I ain’t sharing’.”
Toji’s thumb presses harder on your clit—once, twice—and you can’t hold it back anymore. A muffled moan slips past your fingers. Toji’s grip on your hip tightens in warning, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he gets meaner—tongue plunging deeper, lips sealing around your clit and sucking hard. “Gotta go,” he mutters into the phone, voice rough. “Food’s gettin’ cold.”
He hangs up before Shiu can say another word, tossing the phone onto the couch like it’s nothing. Then both hands are on you—gripping your ass, spreading you wider, burying his face so deep you feel his nose pressed against you.
Tongue and fingers work in tandem—curling inside you while his mouth devours your clit. You come hard, screaming his name, thighs clamping around his head as you shake and gush against his tongue.
Toji doesn’t let up even after you come, thighs clamped around his ears and your whole body twitching. He cleans up every drop, long, dragging licks from your oversensitive entrance back up to your swollen bud. You can barely form words. Your hand’s still clamped over your mouth even though the call’s long dead, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat.
He crawls up your body, caging you in, lips brushing yours so you could taste yourself on him. “Shiu’s right,” he murmurs, “You do taste fuckin’ good.”
a/n: bro I’m actually becoming too obsessed w toji
knowing the bouncer at your favourite club really is the best..♡ (bouncer!toji x chubby!reader)
every bouncer at the club knows you by now because you always show up laughing too loud with a tiny outfit on, all soft curves, heels clicking against the sidewalk while toji stands outside the entrance built like a damn wall pretending he doesnt immediately notice you in line every single weekend.
"there he is!" you yell happily the second you spot him, pointing at him dramatically while the people around you turn to look.
toji reaches over immediately and snatches your ID out of your hand before you can wave it around any harder, his brows pulling together while he checks it despite already knowing your birthday by memory at this point.
"why you always gotta announce yourself like that," he mutters roughly, handing the ID back while his eyes drag over your face for a second too long. you grin at him without shame, fingers curling around the card while you lean closer to the barricade.
"cause youre my favorite bouncer," you tell him sweetly, lashes batting just enough to make the guy behind you snort.
toji clicks his tongue under his breath like hes annoyed, but the corner of his mouth still twitches before he steps aside to let you in. the other bouncers think the whole thing is hilarious because toji hates almost everybody at this job.
everybody else gets dirty looks, grunts, and the occasional threat when they start acting stupid, but you quite literally get let in for free half the time.
the problem starts a couple hours later when youre drunk enough to think climbing onto the bar during some terrible song is a good idea. and one of the bartenders immediately goes to get toji, again.
toji pushes through the crowd already looking irritated, broad shoulders knocking people aside while flashing lights bounce across his face, and the second you spot him your entire face lights up.
"my bouncer!" you yell excitedly, nearly losing your balance trying to point at him.
"yeah, yeah." he mutters tiredly, grabbing your waist before you can topple over backward, his fingers digging into the generous flesh there. "partys done, cmon."
you whine dramatically while he hauls you away from the bar like an oversized cat, one massive arm locked around your middle while your heels scrape uselessly against the floor.
"noo, toji, Im dancin.." you complain loudly, head falling against his shoulder while he drags you through the crowd.
"you were damn near upside down on top'a the counter," he replies flatly, tightening his grip when you wobble again.
"thats not illegal.." you argue immediately, pouting up at him while the cold air hits your face the second he carries you outside.
"felt illegal." he mutters, finally setting you down near the entrance while keeping one hand firm on your waist so you dont drift away. usually this is the part where people get shoved into an uber and sent home, but not you, because youre special apparently.
thirty minutes later youre still standing beside him at the front entrance with his security jacket hanging off your shoulders while you "help" check IDs.
"you missed one." you whisper suspiciously while leaning heavily against his arm, pointing at a completely normal man entering the club. toji glances down at you slowly, cigarette tucked behind his ear while his hand stays braced against your back.
"you can barely see straight," he says dryly, watching your eyes struggle to focus on the line.
"Im checking. I can tell when someones lying from how theyre dressed." you reply seriously, narrowing your eyes at the next person walking up.
"that aint a real thing," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face while you dramatically stick your hand out toward the poor guy in front of you.
"ID," you demand sternly, trying your hardest to sound authoritative despite swaying slightly, and the man actually hands it over.
you stare at it for several long seconds, lips pursed in concentration while toji watches the whole thing.
"I dont know what any of this means.." you admit finally, turning toward him with complete sincerity while holding the ID up helplessly. toji lets out this rough tired laugh through his nose before taking it from your hand, shoulders shaking slightly while he hands it back to the customer.
"go sit down somewhere fore you mess this all up. ya cant even read right now." he mutters, steering you gently away from the entrance with one large hand against your lower back.
"no," you reply immediately, grabbing onto his arm with both hands while your cheek presses against his shoulder. "Im working."
"you are absolutely not workin," he says flatly, but he still keeps you beside him anyway while you whisper nonsense security concerns into his ear for the next twenty minutes.
and by the time toji finally gets his break, youre still attached to him, warm and tipsy beside his body while his security jacket nearly swallows you whole.
"you see them shoes?" you whisper to him, leaning closer.
"baby, focus on standin upright first."
you glare at him immediately. youre not having the disrespect.
"I am upright." you huff, even though you almost trip while saying it.
"that guy has fake gucci.." you whisper seriously while pointing toward the entrance, eyes narrowed with drunken suspicion.
toji snorts quietly around the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth before grabbing your waist and pulling you straight into his lap the second he sits down behind the club, your ass hitting his thighs.
"you can barely see," he mutters, settling back in the chair while one thick arm locks securely around your middle, hand resting on your upper thigh.
"I can feel it," you insist stubbornly, immediately melting against his chest while your fingers start playing with the rings on his hand.
"that dont even make sense." he replies, smoke curling into the cold night air while his rough palm rubs slowly up your thigh absentmindedly. one of the other bouncers walks past and laughs under his breath after spotting you curled up comfortably in tojis lap.
"you babysittin again?" the guy asks, grinning while toji shoots him an irritated look.
"mind your business," toji mutters immediately, pulling you a little closer against his chest while you mumble something sleepy into his shoulder. a couple minutes later your head starts drooping heavier against him, lashes fluttering while the alcohol finally catches up to you completely.
"..toji" you mumble tiredly, fingers hooking weakly into the front of his shirt. "i think m'gettin sleepy.."
"yeah?" he mutters, glancing down at you while putting out his cigarette against the metal chair beside him.
you squint up at him lazily, still curled against his chest while music pounds faintly from inside the club.
"am I fired?" you ask.
toji actually laughs at that, one hand sliding up your back while he shakes his head.
"course. cant have you takin my job, aye? gonna leave me broke."
tou hum thoughtfully like youre genuinely considering that before your eyes start closing again. the second your body goes limp against him, toji sighs quietly through his nose before adjusting his grip under your thighs and standing up with you still in his arms.
one of the bartenders passing by raises an eyebrow immediately.
"you takin her home already?"
toji glances down at your sleepy face tucked against his neck, his security jacket bunched around your body while you cling to him without even realizing it.
"yeah," he mutters, tightening his hold slightly. "shes done causin' problems for tonight."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
pro tip: don't talk bad about yourself in front of sukuna | mdni suggestive
to say sukuna doesn't like when you disrespect yourself would be untrue, because he doesn't even let you get that far. you're his, which means when you talk bad about yourself, you're offending him too.
he'll slap your ass as he passes by you getting a bowl of fruit in the kitchen, in nothing but one of his shirts and an old pair of pj shorts, hair a mess. he lets out a "fuck, don't tempt me right now," his eyes scanning you from head to toe with that familiar heat in them.
your brows furrow in confusion and you literally go to the bathroom to look in the mirror to check that your appearance didn't magically ameliorate from the last time you saw yourself. he follows you and you're almost offended when you look in the mirror. is he playing a prank on you?
"what? i literally look-"
his hand comes to grab your throat gently but firm, a brow raised as he stares down at you and then through the mirror. "you look what?" his gaze is daring you to say something negative.
you can feel that he's not joking. you swallow, "um, good?"
he hums satisfied and pulls you closer, bending down to kiss you, the way his tongue smoothly finds its way into your mouth has heat spreading through your body.
he pulls back and looks you over again appreciatively, smushing your cheeks playfully before walking away. "s'what i thought."
[𝝑𝑒] :: clinging to true form!sukuna ‘til he gets sick of it :: tags. concubine!reader. fluff. size diff. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’
“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.
you flash him an apologetic smile, “i’m sorry, my lord.”
you’re not actually sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he can’t recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.
he doesn’t wait for you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem.
you frown and take on the challenge. you increase your pace and nearly start rushing after him. you lift your kimono to make sure you won’t trip over the fabric.
sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him?
he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”
there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones.
you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”
you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard.
“tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.
sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines, because you’re always with him.
you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.
you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking ahead aimlessly.
“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone.
sukuna doesn’t push you off, however. that alone tells you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour. as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.
you shall never know which of the two it actually is.
“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to.
you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.
you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time he shows tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.
“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.
you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”
you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back.
you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”
sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.
he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.
the power dynamic; it’s addictive.
he needs more of it.
sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision.
you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”
the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for.
he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.
you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.
synopsis . In which nerdjo gets turned on by bimbo!reader's harmless teasing in the middle of putting together a puzzle. content . afab!reader, virginity loss, dorkjo, awkwardness, reverse cowgirl, praise, really premature ejec, etc. (Inspired by this post)
“It’s too big, ‘Toru,” You’d whine, followed by an awfully innocent, “Stop trying to squeeze it in there!”
Puzzle pieces. The two of you are talking about puzzle pieces, obviously. So, why the hell is his cock swelling up against his pants?
Oh, that’s right. Because your comments are making his mind go somewhere dirty each time he closes his eyes, the only thing keeping him sane being the use of context in the situation. His hand had brushed over yours one too many times and he's stuttered halfway through every sentence of his during the duration of this little game. The two of you were just spending your free time putting together a really cute 'n friendly jigsaw puzzle and now he was using a nearby pillow to cover up his boner.
You're aware that your nerdy friend Gojo is the biggest loser ever but, you don’t seem to mind it too much. The only thing you do is tease him until he's sitting next to you with a mess of blush plastered all over his face. "Hey, why'd you stop?" You'd ask after noticing the way he's siting awkwardly on the floor beside you, "I know I said that piece was too big but if we stop now we'll never finish this tonight."
"Uh," Gojo's voice is coming out in that dorky pitch for a moment before he quickly clears his throat and brings a hand up to readjust the thick frames decorating his face, "Well, I just wanted to take a break, y'know? We've been doing this for hours and-"
You cut him off with a light scoff, "Oh c'mon, there's no way you're tapping out on me already." Then you're standing on your knees, shuffling closer to him, and reaching over him for one of the further puzzle pieces below. It was fine. He was fine.
Then he looked down, noticed the skirt you had on started to rise against your thighs, and... fuck. You've got the prettiest pair of panties on—the color of them peeking out just a fraction enough for him to catch its hue. Blue. Just like his eyes. Of course you decided not to wear some shorts under your skirt today. Of course. Now he's left gawking at a lacy pair of panties and letting out a strange noise without thinking, earning a glance over your shoulder that only makes you look sexier.
"Satoru?" You call out moments after, to which his eyes fly back up to where they should've been this entire time, on your face. Watching the man gulp like the biggest dork you know him to be, you flash a smirk, "Did you just look under my skirt?"
There's no way you didn't know what you were doing. He may be a big nerdy virgin who never got any sort of play but he was far from stupid. Gojo swallows down something pathetic before shaking his head hurriedly, "N-No? Pfft, what? Why.. Why would I-, hah, why would I do something like that?"
You cock a brow, "Because you're a loser who acts like he's never seen what a woman looks like under her clothes? I dunno."
He blinks dumbfoundedly, "You think I'm acting?"
You send him the same bewildered stare, "You're a six-foot tall, nerdy, pretty boy with glasses, there's no way you're some kinda virgin."
"Well... uh..." He gulps thickly and leans back, the pillow in his lap faltering with the way he readjusts his long legs to try and ease the rather annoying ache in between them, "I kinda am..."
Now you were giving him that cute deer-in-headlights kinda look as if there wasn't a single thought inside your head, the same look that has him flustered for some reason. Followed by which is a turn of your head before you casually return to reaching for that needed puzzle piece, "That's surprising. 'Thought a guy like you would have tons of women."
Gojo looks around for a second before pointing at himself, "You though I would have tons of women? Me?" He scoffs as if that were the most ridiculous thing in the world. "I mean, I know plenty of women who talk to me, sure. But, I've never slept with any of them."
"Why's that?" You ask, knees shifting against the floor so that you could find the desired spot for the piece in your hand, "If you don't mind me asking, of course."
You seem to be entirely oblivious to the way your skirt is still rising against your thighs, especially as you bend down a bit to plop the little puzzle piece into place. Gojo finds himself looking up at the ceiling now, hoping for you to become self aware any moment now, "I dunno, I'm not good at flirting, I guess." He says with a shrug of his shoulders.
The sound of that makes you glance back at him again. This time you look down at his now uncovered crotch and spot the boner prettily resting there. Smiling a bit, "I could teach you." You offer sweetly.
His cock drools at the idea alone before he's fixing his glasses against his face and looking at you again, "Really? You'd teach me how to flirt?"
You snort, "No, silly. I'm offering to teach you how to fuck."
Now, Gojo is many things. Filthily educated in Digimon? Well, of course—he's even got it plastered all over his shirt right now. The most studious individual in every academic institution he's ever attended? Duh. And a completely closeted freak who does nothing but imagine what it'd be like to feel pussy for the first time? Well, yeah...
So when you offer to teach him how to fuck and essentially, take his virginity, he doesn't think he's ever nodded his head faster in his life.
Next thing he knows and your legs are sprawled out over him, caging the sides of his lengthy limbs in between yours as your ass hovers in the air and you move a hand back to tug your panties to the side. Your cute nerd of a friend thinks he's in love as your gorgeously soaked cunt is revealed to him.
He almost reaches out to touch it-, to touch you but, he controls himself and lets you do all the work. After all, he has no idea what he's doing. Gojo only knows things about sex through porn and... well, that can only teach a person so much.
"Y-Y'know," And then he's starting already—yapping as if that would hide his nervousness. His cock is out and you're rubbing two pretty fingers through your folds before moving your hand in between your legs to grab ahold of him. "S-Shiit... Y'know this uh, this puzzle we got-, oh... it-, oh, that feels good-, it was a limited edition-"
"Satoru, you're cute but," You giggle as the lips of your pussy begin to close around his drooling cockhead, "If this is your idea of dirty talk then you have so much to learn..."
He tries to swallow a whine down his throat but it unfortunately escapes him as he continues his rambling, "I just-, goddamn... I thought you'd wanna know that," Gojo utters with a nervous chuckle, hips bucking up slightly to sink himself deeper into the dewy warmth that's currently swallowing up his length. "'Cause o-only a thousand," his breath hitches as you get about halfway down on him, "You're so fuckin' warm... Only a-ah.. a thousand of those sets were s-sold..."
Biting back your own moans whilst his thick cock stretches up into your welcoming walls, "Yeah?" You chime as if you genuinely cared about what he was saying. It's not that you didn't care at all but, the puzzle was the last thing on your mind with the way his dick felt slowly splitting you open. "T-That's... so nice, sweetie."
Gojo's hips snap up at the sound of the praise—wether or not you meant it to be sarcastic—and it's instant the way he brings a hand up to your hip to hold you down as the rest of his lengthy shaft disappears inside you. "Fuck, that felt good," He gasps as if this were some kind of new discovery for him, "C-Can you say that again? Praise me more?"
You work up a steady rhythm of lifting and then slamming your hips down on him after only a few moment of adjusting to his staggering inches, your jaw quickly falling open with slutty drool dangling out past your lips, "You're into that?" You huff softly before glancing back at him, "Y-You want me to-, mmnh, praise you more?"
Gojo's eyes are a little glossy from pleasure and he nods cutely, "P-Please? I'm being good so far, aren't I?" Then he looks down and you feel his cock throb inside of you, "Fuuuck... I haven't even-, ohgod... h-haven't even told you any more s-stupid facts. Aren't you proud of me?"
Another laugh exits your lips before you still your hips down against his, grinding with his cock buried inside of you instead of bouncing on it, "Yeahhh, I guess you have a point," You snort. Then you turn your face forwards and reach for a new puzzle piece before placing it somewhere. Your honeyed pussy clamps around his bulging girth and you hear the way he chokes out a gasp. "I'm so proud of you, 'Toru. Bein' such a good boy for me, aren't you?"
What you don't expect is the thick cum that spills out inside you. The hand he has on your hip grips a little tighter and he groans loudly, tossing his head back losing it at the sound of those words on your tongue. Well, that and the way you'd went back to those puzzle pieces as if this was just another Thursday night for you...
You have a little smile on your face as you feel him finishing inside you and by the time you look back at him, Gojo seems to be completely out of it—as if that was singlehandedly the best nut of his life. Glasses crooked on his face now, hand still anchoring your hip against him, hair tousled, and heavy pants exiting him, you can't help but tilt your head.
"Wow, two minutes. Impressive, really." You snort.
Gojo looks at you, just barely, and then pouts, "It was my first time, I'm sorry."
banner art by rororogi mogera || perm gojo tags (1/2):
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
A little roll of your hips has got Satoru whining beneath you
MDNI: based on this request <3 :dry humping, satoru being somewhat needy
Click.
Satoru's eyes snapped open, that devastating blue gaze zeroing in on you with laser focus. "Did you just—"
"No idea what you're talking about." You're already pulling your phone close to your chest, grinning like you've gotten away with one of your best coup.
But you absolutely haven’t.
"Liar," he drawls, and before you can even think about scrambling away, his hand shoots out and plucks your phone right out of your grasp without any type of struggle. "Let's see what we have here, hmm?"
"Satoru, give it back—"
He's holding it high above his head, that insufferable smirk spreading across his face as he lounges back against the pillows. The bastard looks like some kind of god reclining on a cloud, his grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips with his shirt messily ridden up from sleep, white hair mussed up and looking absolutely edible.
Which is exactly why you took the photo in the first place, this was truly a sight to keep in memory.
"Come and get it if y’want it so bad," he sing-songs, waving your phone tauntingly.
You narrow your eyes. "You're such a child."
"And you're a little creep, taking photos of me while I'm sleeping." His grin widens. "What were you gonna do with that, huh? Add it to your collection?"
Heat floods your cheeks. You didn’t have an official collection, no, but you should consider it at this point with the hundreds of pics you had of your boyfriend. "I don't have one"
"Sure you don't." He's enjoying this far too much, the smug asshole.
Fine.
You shift onto your knees, eyeing the distance between you and your phone. He's got his arm stretched up, and even lying down, his reach is annoyingly long, but you're not about to let him win this.
"You asked for this," you mutter, reaching up toward the phone.
He just laughs as you stretch, your body arching upward. "Getting desperate, are we?"
"Satoru, I swear—"
You're climbing onto his lap, your knees settle on either side of his hips, your focus is entirely on that phone dangling above you—so close, just a little higher—
"Oh, come on—" you huff, stretching upward. Your chest is pressed against him as you reach up, but you barely notice, too focused on your poor phone.
He could only laugh at your failing attempt, pushing his hair back with his free hand. "What's wrong? Can't reach?"
You rock forward on his lap, using the momentum to push yourself higher. Your fingers brush the edge of the phone case.
His breath hitches, his smirk faltering slightly, but of course you don't notice.
You freeze for a split second, then push up again, grinding against him as you stretch. So close.
"You can—" His voice comes out strained. "You can do better than that."
You glance down at him, confused by his tone but assumed that he was just being his usual taunting self. "Oh, I'll show you better—"
You shift your weight to have a better grounding, rocking against his lap as you make another grab for the phone. The angle gives you more height, more reach, just as you're about to touch it your swing gets complete disturbed by Satoru’s loud, obnoxious, moan.
You stop immediately, hands dropping to his chest as concern floods through you. "Wait—Satoru, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
That's when you feel it.
Oh.
He's hard—achingly hard—pressed right up against you through his sweatpants, hot and throbbing beneath you, and suddenly his breathlessness made perfect sense.
"Well shit,” He lets out a tight laugh, cheeks flushed red as his free hand comes up to grip your hip, keeping you pressed right on him. "D-Don’t stop—" His hips buck up, seeking that tasty friction. "M'so close already—"
Your face is burning, feeling yourself getting worked up from his lewd expression only. "Are you for real—"
"Don't you dare stop now." He warns, that infamous Gojo Satoru, always so in control—reduced to this trembling hard mess beneath you all because you wiggled a bit on his lap.
"I didn't mean to—" you stammer, but his grip on your hip tightens, keeping you firmly in place, your phone now hanging loosely in his hand.
"Sure you didn’t." That grin returns, still very devastating despite the flush spreading up his neck now. His eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide and making sure to look at all of you. "Just a little more?"
"Satoru—"
He rocks his hips up against you, and you gasp at the delicious friction, so so close yet so far. "Come on baby, you can’t keep grinding that perfect ass like that right on my and—fuck—"
His head falls back against the pillow as you shift slightly, your body responding as your mind tries to catch up.
Both his hands grip your hip now, your phone long forgotten somewhere on the bed, guiding you into a slow roll against him. "There you go, just like that—"
You bite your lip trying to suppress a whimper, and his grin turns absolutely feral.
"That's my girl." His voice drops with a whine. "Keep going, please." He’s looking at you with those puppy eyes, a glint of dare shining through.
Your hands are still braced against his chest, clenching around the fabric of his black shirt; you can feel his heart hammering beneath your palms. He's completely at your mercy despite his cocky attitude, which is honestly no surprise to you.
You roll your hips deliberately this time, grinding down onto his throbbing length with purpose, tearing a low groan from his throat.
"Yes—god, just like that," His fingers dig into your hips, guiding your movements as his hips buck up to meet you. "Don't stop, don't you fucking stop— come’ere"
His hand slides up under your shirt from behind, palm hot against your bare skin as he yanks you down flush against him.
"fuck, right there—"
The angle shifts and suddenly he's grinding directly against your core. The sudden shift had you panting over him, catching your clit just right through your pyjamas.
"That's it, baby, grind on my cock just like that—" Both hands grip you possessively now—one still beneath your shirt, nails dragging down your spine, making sure to keep your body pressed against him, the other digging bruises into your hip as he rocks you against him with desperate, filthy strokes. "Hah…you feel so fucking good—"
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth opening and dragging against your skin, tongue laving over the sensitive flesh before his teeth scrape and bite. "Fuck you look good with those—hah—"
You can already feel the bruises forming—deep purple proof of his tiny obsession with you.
"Satoru—oh god—"
Your fingers twist in his shirt, holding on as he grinds you down harder. The friction is absolutely maddening, you can feel it now—the wet spot forming on his sweatpants, hot and slick where his cock is leaking through the fabric.
"Say it again—" He groans against your neck, sucking another bruise right below your ear. "Say my name again baby please.”
You roll your hips to counter his thrusts, giving him right back what he’s been giving you.
“‘Toru, need more–“
You feel him throb against you, hands and arms holding you down on him like a body pillow. "Fuck—keep doing that—"
The hand under your shirt slides around to your front, grabbing, groping, anything he can reach. "So fucking perfect—ngh—gonna come—" The wet heat of his bulge is absolutely sinful even through layers of fabric.
"Gonna make me—shit—" His teeth sink into your shoulder as his whole body goes buckles beneath you. "Sweets oh fuck—"
You feel him pulse against your sensitive core, your own hips never stopping their long and steady strokes, his cock jerking as he spills into his sweatpants with a long, broken moan muffled against your skin. "Yes—fuck yes—keep going—hah—"
He’s rolling his hips against yours in contrast, smearing his mess everywhere—being extremely bold absolutely filthy about it. He's twitching against you, soaking through the fabric as he rides it out.
"Fuck—" He's gasping, trembling, still clutching you against him like a support plushie.
His chest heaves against yours, breath coming in ragged pants against your neck. You can feel his heart absolutely hammering, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.
"Fucking hell sweets," he breathes, his grip on you loosens just slightly, hands sliding down to rest more gently on your hips.
He lifts his head from your neck, those blue eyes unfocused and hazy, still drunk on his release until his eyes land on yours. "What?"
"My phone." You're already patting around the rumpled sheets beside him, trying to ignore the mess between your thighs and the way he's still half-hard beneath you. "Where'd you drop it?"
"You're—" He lets out an incredulous laugh, head falling back against the pillow. "You're asking about your phone right now?"
"Yes?" You shift off his lap, and he makes a wounded sound at the loss of contact.
"Unbelievable." But he's grinning now, that satisfied cat-like expression as he watches you search. "I just came in my pants because of you and you're worried about your phone?"
Your fingers close around it, wedged between the pillow and headboard. "Found it!"
"Of course you did." He's propped up on his elbows now, watching you with pure amusement. "What's so important that you—"
Click.
His jaw drops. "Did you just take another picture?"
You're already scrambling off the bed, phone clutched protectively to your chest this time. "Payment for not helping me finish, you gentlemen."
"Oh, you think you're clever—" He's already moving, swinging his legs off the bed despite the obvious obstacle. "Get back here—"
But you're already halfway to the door, laughing as you hear him stumble—still shaky-legged and sensitive, cursing under his breath in the process.
idk why i struggled so much with this but i did ahhh, i might be going through a writer's block (i hope not cuz holy shit)
when your husband is supposed to be the calm, rational one, you don’t expect to find him standing at the foot of the bed with his cock in his hand, whining into the dark like he’s about to fall apart.
but that’s where satoru ends up. tank top pushed halfway up his ribs, belt hanging useless from one loop, pants around his knees. his fist works up and down the fat length of his cock in rough, punishing strokes, spit and precum smeared down to his balls. he’s staring at you the whole time—at the soft curve of your hip under the sheet, the flutter of your lashes against your cheek. pregnant. glowing. carrying his baby.
and he’s rutting into his hand like some desperate virgin.
the panties he stole from the laundry basket are bunched in his other hand, pressed to his face. he inhales like he’s drowning, shuddering so hard the flimsy fabric trembles against his nose. your warm, musky scent has him sobbing out a noise that doesn’t sound human.
“fuck, baby—” it rips out of him, pitched way too high. “smell so good... oh fuck, i can’t—can’t stop.”
his cock is obscene. flushed dark, fat veins raised under the skin, the head so slick it shines even in the faint glow of the bedside lamp. precum drips in heavy strings down his balls, thick enough to coat his knuckles. every stroke drags more slick out of him, messy, frothing and too loud. schlick, schlick, schlick.
he sucks at the fabric like it could feed him, panting between licks, nose buried deep so he could breathe you in while his tongue works. “god, i'd eat you out for days if i just—mnghm!—if i just had the chance.”
his hips snap forward into his own fist, cock smacking his stomach with each thrust. precum splatters onto his tank top, dripping onto the hardwoods in obscene drops.
disgusting. a husband rutting into his fist because he’s too scared to touch his pregnant wife.
but satoru can’t stop. he’s babbling now, words spilling fast and needy. “want it so bad—fuck, want to fuck you on my knees, i’d worship you, i’d never stop—”
he chokes on a sob as his balls tighten up, cock jerking violently in his grip. the sound he makes is actually humiliating— a high, euphoric whine. his thighs shake.
then, he breaks.
cum spurts out in heavy ropes, hot and endless, painting his stomach, his abs, his fist, the floor. lewd, thick jets that won’t stop, spilling like his body is trying to empty years of frustration at once. it drips down the backs of his fingers, strings across his knuckles, sprays his shirt. he gasps, still pumping through it, cock twitching uncontrollably, as if even his own body doesn’t know when enough is fucking enough.
“ah—mnhg—fuck, t-too much, i can’t...” his voice cracks, strangled, but his fist won’t let go. more cum leaks out, drooling down his cock, streaking his thighs. his knees buckle and he braces one hand on the nightstand, forehead dropping against the wood with a hollow thud.
when it’s finally over, when the spurts slow to tiny dribbles, he’s still shaking so hard he can barely breathe. his cock still twitches against his stomach, still half-hard like it doesn’t know how to stop.
and you’re still asleep. lashes fluttering, lips parted, beautiful and soft while he stands there wrecked.
Definition: Sexsomnia is a documented parasomnia where people engage in sexual behaviors while in deep non-REM sleep.
You were half-asleep on your stomach, one of Toji’s heavy arms slung over your waist. He’d passed out after a long job and you’d barely managed to peel off your panties before he dragged you into bed with him.
You thought you were dreaming when you felt his thick hard cock slide against the curve of your ass. “Toji…?” you whispered.
Nothing.
A big, calloused hand slid down your body, seamlessly squishing different parts of your body until he found your tits.
He just made a sleepy, satisfied sound and rocked forward again, the fat head of his cock nudging between your folds, spreading your slick without asking. You tried to stay quiet, but a soft whimper slipped out when he finally pushed in.
You bit the pillow. He was so fucking big especially at this angle, keeping your thighs pressed tight together.
He started fucking you like that relentless strokes while he stayed dead asleep. His hand stayed possessively on your hip, holding you right where he wanted you so he could grind in harder. “F-fuck… Toji—”
He didn’t answer. Just buried his face deeper into your hair and growled in his sleep, hips picking up speed.
This motherfucker is actually asleep and still rearranging my guts.
The realization made you clench violently around him. The wet sounds of his cum-covered cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy were getting louder.
His cock throbbed inside you, veins dragging against your walls with every drag. You were clenching around him, dripping down his balls, and he still didn’t wake up. You reached back blindly, fingers threading into his messy hair. “Toji… oh god—”
You came first pussy fluttering and gushing around the thick cock that refused to stop moving. The extra slick just made it easier for him. He fucked you harder with few brutal thrusts before he shoved himself as deep as he could go and came with a long groan. Thick ropes of cum filled you as he continued to pump weakly into you.
And still… the bastard didn’t wake up.
He stayed buried deep even after, cock twitching as the last of it leaked out. His arm stayed locked around you as he began to snore lightly.
The next morning light filtered in, waking you slowly, as you stirred. You were sore and sticky between your thighs.
Toji stirred behind you, stretching with a grunt before his hand lazily patted your ass. “Mornin’,” he rumbled, voice rough with sleep. “You look like you got fucked stupid last night.”
You stared at him, there’s no way this man had sexsomnia.
Toji’s sleepy smirk widened as he propped himself up on one elbow, green eyes dragging down your body. He blinked once, then shrugged, reaching down to massage your hip. “What? You look good.”
You pushed up on your forearms, wincing at the deep ache between your legs. “Toji… you fucked me last night. And you were like dead asleep the entire time.”
He laughed to himself, “Must’ve been a good dream,” he said, “Don’t remember shit. You should’ve slapped me or something if it was that bad.” He leaned in, kissing up your neck to your ear, “Wanna jog my memory?”
you let out a weary sigh, the Latin names beginning to blur into soup in your mind. on the other end of the couch, your sweet boyfriend kento sat with a cup of tea, his shirt sleeves rolled up as he reviewed a stack of reports. the glasses that rested on his nose flared up with steam as he took a sip.
“kento?” you murmured, your voice thick with exhaustion.
he didn’t look up immediately, but his pen paused. “yes, honey?”
“I’m stuck on the forearm musculature. the diagrams are so wonky, too many lines everywhere,” you huffed, eyes falling on the lines of his exposed arm. “could I borrow you for a second? for science, of course.”
kento looked up, his expression unreadable. after a moment, he sat his pen down and beckoned you over, extending his arm. “if it helps you study better, I suppose I can spare a moment.”
your fingers hesitated to touch him. he was warm, his skin feeling like silk over steel.
“okay, let’s see…” you whispered, tracing a line along his wrist to his elbow. “brachioradialis.”
as your fingertip glided over his muscle, you felt him go still. his pulse quickened just a fraction. you pressed against his skin, marvelled by the density of his arm.
“can you flex, please?”
kento complied, his fingers curling into a loose fist. you sucked in a small gasp as his veins became more prominent. the muscles bunched and rippled like intricate marble. at this point, you were no longer studying, you were admiring. the way his veins webbed across the back of his hand, the dusting of light hair, the faint scent of his cologne that grew stronger near his pulse.
“are you finding what you need?” kento’s voice was lower, a deep vibration that hummed into your bones.
“I think I need a look at your upper arm, do you mind taking your shirt off?” you asked.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
bully!gojo who finds out you love praise, and of course he has to be a dickhead about it
you were at the library again with him and he was helping you figure out some chem stuff. you were finally starting to get it, and soon you were speeding through questions with ease. when satoru finishes marking a little quiz he gave you to which you got a 93% in, he smiles at you.
"such a smart girl. just needed me to teach you, didn't you? always had a big brain in there."
you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach but you just can't. satoru saying you did a good job? he never would have said that a few months ago. he's so smart too, it makes you feel a sense of pride. you mutter a thank you and look away, trying to hide the smile on your face.
but of course he has to notice. his eyes immediately catch onto your shy demeanour and he leans closer, watching your face carefully.
"what? you that happy about chemistry?" he places the paper down and grabs your chin, forcing you to face him. "or are you just all giddy because of what i said?"
you open your mouth to protest but it's too late. satoru begins to laugh, savoring the embarrassment on your face.
"you love it? don't you?" he stands up and leans in again, placing his hands on either side of your chair, not allowing you to escape from this precious moment.
"what if i said, you're such a good listener, hm? that i love watching your gears turn and how you smile when you finally understand? oh, look at you.''
your once smile turns into a pout, but you can't help but wonder, are those things he's saying true? you can't rely on it, all he's trying to do is get a reaction out of you. but he knows you too well.
"gosh, you're so innocent all it takes is a few words to get you worked up. are you needy down there, pretty girl? want me to help your sweet pussy?""
"s-satoru, stop. there's people here."
"good. they can hear about how you're such a good girl, and how you listen to everything i say, and how it gets me so hard every time."
he finally stops, sitting back down in his chair with a soft chuckle.
"i swear, you make it too easy. now c'mon, let's go home and you can make me even more proud."
99 problems, but a wet dream ain’t one | katsuki b.
summary: katsuki had a wet dream about you — and now he can’t get the image out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. and when you find out? you’re sure as hell not making it easy for him.
warnings: best friend!katsuki, best friend!reader, reader is shameless, reader is down BAD, teasing, flirting, cursing, dirty talk, wet dream, smut, blowjob, gagging, spit, dom!katsuki, bratty!sub!reader, degradation, “this is a bad idea” typa fic, MDNI;
wc: 2,3k
Katsuki Bakugou has a best friend problem.
And it isn’t the kind of problem that can be solved by just talking about it, like normal friends do.
No. This is pretty difficult to solve.
Why?
One, because Katsuki doesn’t even talk about feelings or problems most of the time. He just bottles them up until something new appears and then forgets about whatever bothered him before.
And two, he definitely won’t talk about how a wet dream with his best friend made him feel.
Yeah. A wet dream.
He hasn’t had one of those since he was a fucking teenager, and it makes him feel so stupid. He is a grown man, for God’s sake. An established pro-hero. A respected one. And more recently?
A fucking loser.
A loser who now struggles to even meet your eyes while you’re having a simple conversation, because every time he does, he remembers how you looked in his dream — naked and sweaty and so fucking eager to suck him off.
And of fucking course his mind wanders further—
Would your mouth feel that good in reality?
Would it turn him on that much to have you on your knees between his legs?
Would your moans really sound that divine while doing your best to bring him towards pleasure?
Will—
“Earth to Katsukiii,” you suddenly speak, waving a hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him jolt slightly, his body shifting backwards on the couch.
“What!?” His head snaps towards you instantly, his hand coming up to slap yours away, ignoring the warmth that lingers from the brief contact.
“I have been talking to you,” you frown, scooching closer to him, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothin’,” he shrugs, but his body tenses the moment your chest brushes against his arm.
“You’re even pissier than usual,” you remark with a raised brow, studying him carefully. He scoffs.
“You’re imagining things,” he replies way too fast.
You frown deeper, squinting your eyes as you shift even closer, intentionally closing the space between you. You don’t miss the way he immediately leans away.
“Why do you run from me?” you ask, tilting your head.
“I like my space, weirdo,” he mutters under his breath.
“I like your space too,” you tease, nudging your knee against his.
He instantly moves his knee away.
“Shut up and watch this damn movie,” he rolls his eyes, trying to focus anywhere but you.
“Kats.”
No answer.
“Katsuki,” you insist again, leaning in and poking his cheek with your finger.
You feel it — the tension.
You notice the way his hands curl, palms balling into fists as he takes a slow, deep breath, clearly trying to keep himself together.
“What’s up with you?” you push again, your voice softer this time, but more insistent. You move even closer, until he’s practically cornered at the end of the couch, your body fully pressing into his.
“Tell meee,” you drag out, nudging him lightly. “What’s bothering you?”
“You’re bothering me,” he finally snaps, his tone sharp and annoyed, making you blink in surprise. “Even in my fuckin’ dreams,” he adds with a frustrated groan, dragging a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was.
“What?” you ask, caught off guard. “You dreamt about me?”
“Are you deaf?” he rolls his eyes, letting out a short, dry chuckle.
Then—
Something shifts.
A slow, almost mischievous grin spreads across your lips.
“What kind of dream did you have?” you ask, lowering your voice slightly as you lean closer, your gaze locking onto his.
Before he can react, you move.
In one smooth motion, you swing your leg over him, then the other, settling yourself directly in his lap, your thighs resting on either side of his muscular legs.
His mouth parts slightly, frozen halfway open, one eye twitching as he stares up at you, completely caught off guard.
“Come on,” you push again, shifting slightly on his lap, your clothed core brushing against his crotch through his jeans.
“Did you have a wet dream?” you ask playfully, clearly teasing, not thinking anything of it — but the moment he flinches, looking away instead of snapping back at you, your smile falters just a bit.
“Did you really have a wet dream of me?” you ask again, this time more serious, your eyes searching his face.
“Piss off,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.
“Oh my god… I want to know right now,” you nudge him again, more insistent this time.
“I ain’t telling you shit, now get off of me,” he says, though his hands find your hips, gripping them instinctively.
You place your hands over his, pressing them down, smirking slightly.
“You know… if you tell me what it was about… maybe I can help,” you shrug casually, as if you didn’t just drop that.
He stares at you, completely dumbfounded, like you just said the most insane thing he’s ever heard.
“You gotta be joking,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Why would I be? It’s not like I don’t find you hot or anything,” you add, shifting slightly again in his lap.
That stirrs something in him.
He hisses under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening without him even realizing it.
“I’m still not telling you,” he mumbles, jaw clenching.
“Okay…” you hum. “I’ll guess.”
You take a moment to think, then—
“Was I on all fours? Were you fucking me from the back? I know you like doggy style… or maybe something else? Like missionary? Or cowgirl?” you ramble, mostly to yourself, watching his reactions closely. “How about—“
“It was a goddamn blowjob, now shut up,” he groans, his head falling back against the couch with a dull thud.
“Oh,” you pause, blinking. “A blowjob,” you repeat thoughtfully, tilting your head slightly.
“How was I able to fit all of that in my mouth?” you add, genuinely thinking about it.
He groans louder this time, hands leaving your hops and dragging them down his face.
“You are killing me, woman,” he mutters, voice strained, making you giggle softly.
“So you want it?” you ask, watching him closely.
He makes a pause, completely baffled.
Then—
“The hell? Who asks their best friend to suck them off?” he snaps, glaring at you.
“Who dreams of their best friend sucking them off?” you shoot back instantly, raising a brow.
“Smartass,” he scoffs.
“Pervert.”
“Oh, I’m the pervert? Not you, who’s been grinding on me for the past minutes?” he shoots back.
“I only suggested it because you seem stressed lately,” you say, your tone softer now, but still teasing. “And you clearly don’t wanna talk about feelings. Maybe I can help some… other way… you know?”
He goes quiet.
Really quiet.
His brows pull together as he stares at you, his expression shifting into something more serious, more conflicted — something you can’t quite read.
You’ve never seen that look on him before.
Not like this.
There’s hesitation.
Something heavy sits behind his eyes.
“You better not make me regret this,” he mutters finally, his voice lower now.
Your brows lift slightly, tilting your head. You didn’t know what to make of this words.
“Wha— what?”
His hands tighten on your hips, making you shift against his crotch for the nth time.
“Get on your knees.”
“Now?” You ask baffled.
“Yes, now. I’m in the mood and it’s your fault,” he reminds you.
You bite your lip to repress a smile.
Instead of a snarky comment, you just nod quietly and get off his lap. He spreads his legs wider the moment you move, watching you closely as you lower yourself onto your knees, settling between his muscular thighs.
Your palms come up to touch them, fingers gripping the material of his jeans as you slowly move them up and down, feeling the tension in his body, trying to ease it just a little.
You take your time.
Slowly moving upward, dragging it out, making it feel like it takes forever to reach his crotch… then his belt.
You start unbuckling it, your movements slow, all while looking up at him — watching the way he stares down at you, jaw tight, lips pressed together, hands resting stiffly at his sides.
You slide the belt out of the way, then undo his zipper, finally revealing his black boxers. Something hard brushes against your hand and he hisses above you, his breath catching.
Your fingers dip under the material and drag it down, exposing his happy trail that leads down to his cock. His own hands come down to help, pushing his jeans and boxers lower, lifting his hips just enough. The fabric bunches at his thighs, out of the way.
And then—
His cock springs free.
Long. Thick. Prominent veins running along the length of it. The tip flushed a reddish color, already leaking with pre-cum.
“C’mon, dig in,” he mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips as his hand comes to tangle in your hair, pushing you slightly forward.
You don’t rush.
You lean in slowly, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling the way he reacts instantly — his breath hitching, a quiet hiss slipping past his lips as you glance up at him through your lashes.
Your tongue slides out, dragging along his length, long, intentional strokes, collecting the pre-cum as you go. His fingers tighten in your hair.
“Don’t— be such a tease, damn it,” he grits out, voice rougher now, the veins in his neck more visible as he looks down at you.
You let out a quiet chuckle, but you give in.
Enough teasing.
You part your lips and guide him in, taking him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, relaxing your jaw as you go, until the tip presses against the back of your throat.
You pause there for a second, breathing steadily through your nose, adjusting — letting your body relax around him.
Then you start moving.
Slow at first.
Pulling back just enough before taking him in again, setting a rhythm, your tongue flattening along the underside, tracing the veins, working with each movement.
Spit and pre-cum mix together, making everything smoother, your lips sealing tightly around him.
All the while, your eyes stay on him.
Watching everything.
The way his teeth catch his lower lip. The flare of his nostrils. The crease forming between his brows as he tries to hold himself together. Low grunts slip past his lips, restrained, controlled — but you can tell he’s holding back.
That only makes you pick up the pace.
Your head starts bobbing more steadily, your movements more confident, more precise. Tears sting lightly at your eyes from the burn of your throat, but you don’t stop — you just adjust your breathing, keeping the rhythm consistent.
You want to hear him.
Really hear him.
“You happy now?” he asks, breath uneven, voice rough. “Having a mouth full of me?”
You let out a muffled moan around him in response, the vibration traveling through him as your tongue moves again, your pace never faltering.
“You greedy brat,” he chuckles, though his voice strains. He knows you — you like this, like putting on a show, like pulling reactions out of him.
His hips twitch upward when you increase your speed, your nails digging slightly into his thighs to steady yourself as his fingers tighten in your hair.
Sweat starts to bead at his forehead, sliding down as strands of blond hair stick to his skin.
“Mhm— keep— keep going,” he finally groans, his control slipping just a bit more.
You keep the same pace, consistent, precise, working him up without losing rhythm, your tongue and lips working together, spit and pre-cum already dripping down your chin. But is all worth it when you feel it—
The twitch.
The tension building.
A few more precise movements, a slight change in pressure, and then—
He breaks.
“Fuck, fuck, gonn a—“
His words are cut off as a low, deep moan escapes him. He releases, his body tensing as he spills hot loads of cum into your mouth. He closes his eyes at the feeling, barely able to keep his lips sealed.
For a moment, he doesn’t move, his orgasm washing over him, then — he finally looks at you. You were still on your knees, still sucking and slurping like your life depended on it.
“Fuckin’ hell— you’re takin’ everything,” he lets out a weak, breathy laugh. And it was true, you make sure to not let anything go to waste.
You suck him dry.
And he lets you — for a short while.
Only when the sensitivity kicks in does he tug at your hair, trying to catch his breath and helping you catch yours.
“Shit— too much—” he groans, needing another second to breathe, to recover as you pull away, licking your lips slowly, cleaning the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand as you look up at him.
Taking him in.
He’s leaned back against the couch now, hair messy, chest rising and falling steadily, his cock flushed and glistening, resting against his stomach now. His pants and boxers are still pushed down around his thighs as he spreads his legs, taking a lot of space like usual.
But he wasn’t the only one looking messy… he noticed your state too.
And fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Your hair was deshiveled from his grabbing, your cheeks were flushed, lips plump and glistening with fluids… you looked so fucking pretty like this — on your knees for him, having his cum down your throat and looking at him with teary eyes — a sign of how hard you tried to take him.
You remain on the floor even if it wasn’t the most comfortable place, still close to him.
“So…” you finally break the silence softly.
His eyes snap back to yours, still catching his breath.
“Was this better than your dream?” you ask with a raised brow and a teasing grin.
But he won’t give you want to want. He already gave you enough.
He just scoffs at your question, rolling his head slightly to the side, trying to hide his smile.
tangentwithtanner
stormborns
