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WELT + CatHybrid!Reader (SMUT)

Tw : +18, fem!reader, reader is not trailblazer, explicit, power imbalance, dom!welt, sub!reader, age gap? (welt is very old but reader is of age), animal features (reader), fingering (fem! receiving), daryphilia kinda?, praise kink, creampie (wrap it before you tap it folks), breeding talk, established relationship, jealousy (male), marking, mating press, not proofread (hope i'm not missing anything)

5k words

Life as a Nameless wasn't always easy.

Who would have guessed that this planet prohibits your species? That's discriminatory! Truly!

This planet had the best, the biggest, the most impressive amusement park there is! The downside… It seems like their population appears to have descended from a very deeply rooted race of fishes… Hence why any kind of felines or predators are prohibited from visiting.

But no way you'd miss out on that opportunity, it'd be cruel to keep you away from this planet! No way!

You stubbornly stepped in.

Welt was skeptical. For starters, he was the one who had to manage your boundless energy, and the mood swings that came along. The thought of bringing you along felt wrong. He knew best, and at that moment he highly doubted you'd be suitable for the trip.

When you became part of the Nameless, he naturally assumed the role of caretaker, taking responsibility for the slip-ups and mistakes you made along the way. This role proved itself to be so challenging that no one actually fought for it…

The man was naturally poised, calm, and perhaps the only one capable of managing you and your frequent outbursts. You were almost forbidden to leave his side.

As much as everyone appreciated you, they were well aware that your curiosity brought a lot of baggage and a fair share of risks… Just stay glued to Welt and you'll be able to go on adventures! They said.

But at this moment, you are actively defending your case against a very much tired Welt and a concerned Himeko.

"I swear I'll behave!" The talk had been ongoing for hours now, putting you on edge and making your tone sound whinier than you intended.

"Wether you behave or not is not the issue. We're supposed to remain unnoticed for the entire trip, your ears and tail will alert them." The fact that Welt was so adamant about this only intensified your emotions, and a swell of sadness formed itself in your now tight throat.

"I'm telling you, I can hide them - Look!" Welt noticed that you were becoming upset and he'd be lying if he said that it didn't break his heart. His gaze softened at the sight of you, scrambling around to painfully tuck the length of your tail around your waist.

You winced at the sting but continued, to make your point, ears now bent down to blend in with the locks of your hair.

"See!" You proudly stated, puffing out your chest and searching for their gaze, hoping for any sign that might give you the green light.

A fourth voice emerged. "We could use a hat and secure her tail with a rubber band." The voice of Dan Heng made your heart leap in surprise; he had joined the conversation unbeknownst to everyone. He walked to your side and silently offered his support by standing next to you.

Welt frowned. The flicker of discontent crossing his face as he shifted, shoving his soft gaze away. "We appreciate your input, Dan Heng, but-" Dan Heng interrupted, "I wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her." It was unexpected, really. Until now, you had always felt that Dan Heng found your energy bothersome and exhausting. So you always made sure to maintain a safe distance. But now? Perhaps he liked you after all?

Your eyes prickled at the unexpected defense, finally having an ally after enduring two agonizing hours of fighting alone. Relief washed over your tense body.

But that wasn't the case for Welt, and he felt compelled to express his displeasure. His arms went up, crossing them above his chest and regarded the two youngsters like some kind of disapproving father figure. "You'd do that." He spat more harshly than he intended, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm that everyone noticed except you.

Himeko sensed that the situation was worsening.

She had graciously backed Welt up for this occasion, knowing that he often struggled to refuse your whims, especially when you were determined to pursue something. However, she never anticipated that it would lead to this, and she was already nearing her limits. Her long sigh captured everyone's attention, finally breaking the awkward standoff of glances.

"We can't really stop her from going." Her resolve had weakened as she casts a weary glance at Welt, a silent apology. "So it's settled. Thank you, Dan Heng, for stepping up. As for you, troublesome kitty, I'd love for you to stay by his side throughout the journey." Your triumphant yell of victory made everyone wince, except Welt who just looked utterly appalled by this outcome.

"And now, I'll draw myself a bath. Forget I exist unless you're in danger or something." She breathed out, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice as she promptly left the premises. The conversation had taken a toll on her, especially after witnessing your desperation and misery for so long. It was nice to see you smile again.

"Thank you! And thank you - thank you Dan Heng! I'll be good, I'll behave, and stay put the whoooole trip!" Your face beamed with a bright grin as you hugged the latters arm, squeezing it just to show how much it meant to you. He merely offered a subtle smile, allowing you to enjoy your moment of joy in silence.

"So it's settled." The sharpness of Welt's voice caught your attention as he repeated Himeko's words, and this time you noticed the acute tone. You opened your mouth to speak but he didn't allow you, walking away from the conversation.

Dan Heng noticed how your ears flattened, resembling a poor kicked puppy.

"Let's find a hat that fits you."

-

Of course, Himeko wasn't going to have her peaceful evening. What did she expect?

She had just started to dry her hair when the door emitted that dreadful sound; knocking. Only one person would be petty enough to voice their thoughts, so she simply unlocked the door and returned to her nightly routine.

"Thank you for having me," Welt said as he stepped inside, ensuring he closed the door behind him. He still maintained his usual politeness, though she couldn't help but notice the way his jaw clenched.

"I thought we both knew the issue wasn't about whether she has supervision or not." here it comes. She swallowed her sigh, fully aware that it was most definitely her fault this time. "She just looked so disappointed… and Dan Heng offered to take charge her; how was I supposed to say no? Besides, won't it be nice for once not to worry about what she might do?" It was a feeble attempt to divert attention away from the real issue. Really.

"What I worry about shouldn't be anyone's concern but mine. Plus, I don't recall ever complaining about taking on that role." His tone was unforgiving, punctuating his words with a disapproving wave of his hand. "You didn't. But-"

"No. What you said earlier was unnecessary, that's everything I intended to say. I apologize for the late inconvenience. Enjoy your rest." It was evident that he had no intention of hearing Himeko's explanation. He simply wanted to make his point, and that was the end of it. With that, he left Himeko's bedroom.

She crossed one leg over the other, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she focused her gaze on the now-closed door. "Isn't he too old for this?"

-

Welt was being petty, not even acknowledging the adorable hat you had spent so much time selecting, carefully chosen just for him.

Why did he act so distant? So… cold? Surely, it was your fault. You had gone against his better judgment, stubbornly following your own little whims. Were you truly that ungrateful after everything he had done for you?

To the nights when he fulfilled the needs of your body? When he used his hands to evoke such beautiful tears from you…?

You stepped off the train with a heavy heart, watching the source of your anguish leaving in company of the Trailblazer and March. You felt torn as the three of them investigated the planet while you went "scouting" the very important amusement park with Dan Heng.

Very important.

But each time you entered an attraction, your mind wandred, your expression fell with sorrow. You even won the claw game for the first time! But no… now you were being rude to Dan Heng! You couldn't do anything right!

Welt was right. Welt was always right.

Now you felt silly. And guilty.

Suddenly, an ice cream cone was thrust against your face, the cold treat making contact with your downturned lips. Dan Heng redirected your attention back to him, gaze searching for yours with concern. "Here. Take it," he urged, nudging it closer.

"M'thank you! Didn't you take one for yourself?" He shrugged.

"Not much of a sweet tooth." This time it was your turn to shrug, returning your attention to the icy treat.

It did help brighten your mood - a win for Dan Heng. What you didn't know was that he always rooted for you, at least in the shadows. He found your energy endearing in a way, especially when you beamed like this.

You actually hadspent a wonderful time in his company! You even managed to forget the little weep from this morning.

But the day took a toll on your body; your ears strained under the small hat you wore, and your tail? Numb. You even had to hide in the restroom a few times to allow your blood to flow- a small price to pay for amusement.

-

You'd think.

You sheepishly hoped that returning home and finally releasing them would bring relief, but that wasn't the case- far from it. Hours spent in that awkward position made it so incredibly difficult to relax them, it hurt so much to pull your tail back into place.

But your ears might've been the worst; you actually had to keep them in the same position because of how painful it was to move them. You huffed in front of the mirror, watching and definitely feeling them tremble.

So, you brought yourself where you always found your solace, the only place you could think of whenever something happened. But you stopped, doubt plaguing your thoughts like a disease. Maybe he didn't want to see you… Thus you stood right in front of his door, your eyes on your shoes as you pondered wether to knock or leave. He looked definitively bitter this morning…

Weeping in front of his door wouldn't help; you needed to apologize first and make amends. "Welt?… You… You're sleeping? Maybe?…" You whispered through the door, anxiety gnawing at your stomach as you waited for some kind of response.

"Enter." Oh.

So you did, but not before taking a long, deep breath.

His room was nearly engulfed in darkness, save for the small lamp on the nightstand, its dim light revealing his presence. Welt sat on an armchair positioned not far from the bed, a book in hand and his temple resting on his fist. The glance he cast your way was fleeting, as if it was mere politeness that compelled him to look up.

"What is it?" Oh, right. You hadn't relized hat you were simply standing in front of his door, silent for a few seconds. However, you noted the sharpness of his words and the indifference he displayed.

"I-It hurts… 'hurts a lot," you whined out. Of course, you whined; how could you not? Your ears throbbed, your tail ached, your stomach churned and your heart felt heavy. Nothing was going well! You knew that Welt could comfort you- he always did…

But maybe this time he wouldn't…

Welt snapped his book shut and set it aside on the nightstand as he pulled himself up. "Where? Tell me." Finally. Finally you detected a hint of warmth in his words, and your eyes watered from the overwhelming day you had.

"My ears…" you croaked out, eyes cast down in shame. He had noticed how your ears were strained at the top of your head, forced down in such an unnatural position. A long sigh escaped his lips at the sight of your poor condition. Why hadn't you listened to him?

He sat down on the edge of the bed, parting his thighs to show a spot you were all too familiar with. His hand brushed against yours, gently pulling closer to the bed's frame. "Sit."

And you thanked all the Aeons you knew of, hurrying yourself between his legs. Welt wasted no time cradling your oh so fragile body against his chest, guiding your limbs to his heart's content. You most certainly allowed him to do so.

He slid his right arm under your knees, lifting your body to drape your legs over his thigh and position you sideways against him. You nestled your cheeks right under his collarbone, pressing your body against his to absorb his warmth.

This angle provided him with a better view of your ears while a low hum reverberated, displeased. But he could feel your body shrink in on itself, anyone could see how miserable you looked at first glance. He'd be a monster to lecture you…

So he gently pressed his lips against your flattened ear, closing his eyes as he did so. The contact made you jolt in his grasp, a sad hiccup that broke his heart. Welt's arm was splayed across your back, his hand resting on your hip while the other cradled the side of your face. Just like the perfect caretaker he is, the man began to pepper your furry ears with soft kisses.

You exhaled, finally feeling your body relax under his care. It was everything you wanted and needed- immersed in the scent of his cologne, cradled against his chest, and pampered.

"I heard you behaved today. Is that true? You didn't throw any fits… Kept your poor ears hidden…" The last sentence carried a hint of resentment, but it was meant only for him to hear. The hand that cradled your face slowly moved up, fingers ever so gently massaging the base of your ears to alleviate the ache.

"Mhm" The only reponse you offered was a soft hum of approval, as you didn't trust yourself to speak aloud. Because, oh my, did you felt as if you were on cloud nine; the sound of his pecks sent a much-needed jolt of adrenaline across your body.

And Welt? He was just so proud of you that he almost forgot yesterday's tantrum. Almost. But you would later find out he didn't.

Right now, he wanted to take care of his beautiful cat. His oh-so-pretty kitty… That hat you wore didn't make you any grace, did you think he'd be happy to see your little ears all bent under this thing?

And your tail… what were you thinking?

He took a long, deep breath against your furry ears- a sigh you might say. You felt the comfort of his hand leaving its previous position, causing you o whine at the loss. But then, he brought it down to the very base of your tail. Unfortunately, it was still sadly locked around your waist; he couldn't have that.

This time, it did hurt. He started by pressing his palm against the upper base, moving in a circular motion as to relax the muscles. A sharp whine escaped your lips, which he quickly silenced with a shush.

"You can handle it. It won't hurt for long, I promise. You can be good for me, right?" he cooed in a soft whisper, careful not to hurt your ears. However, at your lack of response, he emphasized his words with a low hum. You immediatly understood, having been taught so well by him. So, you gave the best nod you could manage, which was merely a shift.

He understood, but that was not what he wanted. "Words." he warned, though his tone wasn't unkind.

"Yes…" You huffed.

Satisfied, he returned to the top of your head, kissing your sore ears and burying his nose in the softness of your hair. The distraction helped you forget the painful massage he was giving, his fingers dug into each side of your tail.

Soon enough, his administration turned successful as you finally rewarded him with the whines he desperately needed to hear. Your entire body shivered, and your hands sought refuge between your thighs to warm them up- something he noticed.

"Does it feels better now?" He shifted down to hover above your face, searching or your eyes for to gauge your reaction. But, they were closed; he could feel you beginning to doze off. "Way better, thank you…" You would've slept in his arms if it weren't for his hand traveling up to gently cup the delicate side of your neck.

His thumb gently nudged the edge of your jaw, lifting it upwards.

It was then that you felt the soft press of his lips against your own- a tender peck. He pulled away for a fleeting moment, angling his head to return for more. The sound of your kisses echoed in the dimly lit room, and your soft moan allowed him to slide the tip of his tongue in.

So, of course, you welcomed him in, meeting the wet appendage with an open-mouthed kiss, heavy with emotion. Unable to focus on anything else, you let your body relax in his arms, melting like a sad ice cream in the middle of summer. But he grounded you; he Always did, pressing you further against his chest to keep this pretty mouth of yours on him.

He could hear your whines grow more intense as he finally understood what you were doing with your hips. His eyes narrowed, focused on the sight of your hips jolting as you humped your own hands with indecency.

Poor thing… You felt the corners of his lips lift, until you could feel it no longer. Welt had pulled away to get a good look at your state, face flushed, eyes hazy with dire need. Your ragged breaths were particularly enticing, a true fest for the eyes.

Just for him, though.

Not Dan Heng.

No one else.

He was truly a petty man.

He grazed the back of his fingers down your arms, savoring the way your skin shivered under his touch. But, Welt paused at the apex of your wrists, making a silent request. You complied, driven by a desperate need. Slipping your hands out from the confines of your thighs.

The palm of his hand supported your back as he slid his other arm under your legs, motioning for you to sit in front of him. The width of his chest enveloped you like a soft blanket, almost missing the way his hands gripped the fat of your thighs.

His thumb kneaded your inner thigh and slowly glided down to your knees. Your sad whine made him chuckle, but he quickly showed you what he meant by hiking up your skirt at the sides. His fingers swiftly found the straps of your panties, pulling the elastic down along your thighs.

Such a pretty sound escaped your lips, a choked gasp, reminiscent of a whisper. Yet, it was a sound he undoubtedly heard. After sliding the garnment past your feet, he moved to grasp the back of your knees. You watched in awe as he lifted your legs, parting them on either side of his lap.

He felt your ears twitch against his chin, distressed by the cold wind blowing against your burning core.

Finally.

The tips of his fingers met the poor state of your slit, covered with a thick layer of slick. You exhaled deeply, leaning against his chest with anguish.

He traced up and down, burying his fingers in the fat of your bottom lips so painfully slowly. Slick used to coat the outside of your cunt, spreading it evenly all over before he reached up to tease that throbbing clit.

You felt him slide his other hand down, warming his digits with that expensive arousal he craved to taste. But not once did he stop circling your bud, not even when he had carefully slid one finger in that tight hole of yours.

The pace was agonizingly slow. His middle finger was knuckles deep inside, but it was almost as if he just wanted to dip it- in and out.

Oh, he knew it wasn't enough. Of course he did. That poor pussy of yours had no secrets for him.

But you didn't have the guts to beg for more, not after today's events. You'd obediently wait for him to act…

"Do you want my fingers to work you open?… Or do you want it to stretch?" His voice was as low as a purr, whispering to your sensitive ears. It was almost funny how he assumed you wouldn't painfully stretch anyway. How could you not? Especially when you could feel the outline of his length angrily burying itself in the fat of your thigh.

But as the sweetest gentleman he was, he asked, knowing that sometimes you liked to feel that tinge of pain- or sometimes not. It was always up to you, always about you first.

"Stretch…" But this time, his kitty wanted it to sting. Did you think you deserved some kind of punishment for going against his word? How precious.

He hummed in aknowledgement, slipping his finger out to circle that tender entrance of yours. "How? On your back? Face down? In my arms maybe? Tell me." You couldn't help but feel like he purposely made you long for it, the very tip of his finger tapped impatiently on your fluttering hole.

"A very mean mating press…" You mumbled with a pout, thighs flexing at each agonizing touch. He merely chuckled, the low rumble resonating within your head. "A very mean mating press you say?" He repeated with amusement, clearly taken aback by that filthy choice of words. You only nodded, watching his hand throw two curt slaps against your cunt.

You yelped when his hands went under your armpits, lifting you up from his lap to place you down on the bed. Your body was burning with need. You tried to reach up around his neck to bring him closer. He didn't oblige, but he did grab your wrists to kiss the palm of each hands.

Patience.

He tucked one of his pillow under your lowerwaist, guiding your hips up in a more comfortable position. The next part was your hair that he carefully untucked from your back, sliding it to your side with great care. Oh how you loved when he'd treat you like a princess, making sure to meet your every needs.

He unzipped himself with one hand, face dipping down in the crook of your neck to mouth at your pulse. His other hand switfly unbuttoned your blouse, popping one after the other until he was met with your cute bra. He littered your burning skin with kisses, crashing marks after marks.

He worked you out of those layers, allowing your supple breasts to pool freely out of its cage. You caught his gaze stopping on them for a fleeting second, right before he dipped down to place two tender kiss on each one.

Finally. Finally you felt the outline of his length bury itself inbetween your pussy lips, coating his underside with your arousal. But that's all he did, sliding it up and down, occasionnaly slapping it against your clit. You huffed out, a croaked moan testifying of your growing frustration.

"No condoms?" He asked.

Oh.

Now you knew he was messing with you! Not once did he not go raw Inside that precious cunt. Ever since he took that sweet virginity of yours. You cried to have your first without this layer that separated you both…

You puffed. A very frustrated frown appeared on your face at how he feigned innocence.

"Oh, but sweetheart… isn't it Dangerous? I'm not sure I'll be able to pull out once I'm inside…" the corner of his lips rose up in delight upon seeing you pout. "'Don't want you to pull out!" you cried out. You knew you were being toyed with, but it was the only way to get what you so much needed, by begging.

"Then… what should we do if it takes…? Tell me…" his tone grew heavier as he motionned your legs on his shoulders. "You did ask a mating press afterall…" he added in faux-concern. Welt was playing with you, and you knew he did. But you were too desperate to call him out, especially not when that very thought crossed your mind more than once.

The thrill of ending up with a swollen belly was such a dangerous thought. Oh, but it sounded so nice right now.

You couldn't form a coherent thought, mind in a haze, words caught up in your throat. So you just sobbed your heart out, it began with short sniffles until fat tears fell down your flushed cheeks.

Maybe be went too far… So he shushed your cries, bringing his face down to kiss those pretty tears of yours. "Here… see? It's going in, look." He hushered you and as promised you felt the very fat of his tip probe at your throbbing entrance. His hand caught your jaw, guiding it downwards to make you look at how his length worked its way inside.

You huffed, choking a moan out of your trembling lips as you finally felt his thickness. Even with that heavy amount of slick, his cock still felt impossible to take, bruising your walls. He merely had a few inches inside but his hips began a slow pace. He pushed a little bit more inside each time he pulled back, just to make sure it wasn't too much at once.

"Look at how well you're taking it… Just a few more inches, can you do that for me?" He gently asked- since he could feel that you were beginning to drift away. You felt the tip of his nose nudge at your wet cheek, seeking a response. But when he felt your soft hands around his neck, he exhaled.

Truth to be told, he was also reaching his limits. So he buried the remaining inches in one powerful thrust, finally fully pressing his body down. Your tail had naturally curled itself around his thigh, urging him further.

He opened the ceremony with a bruising pace, pulling out ever so gently just to harshly slam back down. It caught the wind in your lungs, brain turning into a pudgy state. Your eyes were glued together, so focused on the sensation of finally being full.

But Welt was having none of that. "Eyes." He warned.

It took you a few seconds to register. It forced Welt to bury himself to the hilt and painfully stop.

It brought your attention back on him instantly, watery eyes fluttering open to meet his heated gaze. The strands of his hair trickled down the sides of your face, eyebrows frowned as he carefully watched you oblige.

"Better. So pretty." The praise went straight to your head. But you still struggled to keep your eyes open, feeling them flutter at each thrust.

"'I'll go a little faster now, alright?" You hastly nodded, but didn't expect the instant shift of pace. Welt had pressed himself further down to get that perfect angle, allowing him to directly plow back without leaving an inch.

Now it was getting harder and harder to comply with his command. But he did take pity on you, smashing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. That allowed you to finally roll your eyes to the back of your head. Finally focusing on how the tip of his cock kept kissing the spongy wall of your cervix. He reached way too far but you loved every second of it.

You couldn't even voice out your orgasm, in fact, you hadn't even realize it was coming until it arrived. Your whole body tensed up Under his unforgiving pounding, your trembling fingers gripped his shoulders for dear life. And you swore you almost came again upon hearing the low groan he emitted- as he felt your tender and battered pussy clench down like a vice.

The feeling was addictive, Fucking you through your orgasm was maybe one of the best thing there was on earth. Truly. How your body struggled to adapt, spasming at each thrusts, the way your lips babbled sweet Nothings, mixed with your cries. And the best of all, how you so beautifully creamed around his girth.

It did take him a few minutes to finally accept his own climax, but at this point you were long gone- mentally broken by the overstimulation.

Balls deep.

He wouldn't have it any other way. It allowed his thick load to finally claim its spot in your womb- pushing it further and further Inside. The growl he let out against your neck was music to your ears, he'd take a few testing thrusts, a twisted way of waking you up from your daze.

"How're you feeling angel?" He rasped out, pushing himself up to analyze your state.

And what a poor state you were in.

You didn't think it was over, did you?

-

"That's unlike her to miss breakfast… Who saw her the last?" March pointed out inbetween mouthfuls of pancakes, waving the sugary treat in the air as to catch everyone's attention.

Welt could only take a very, very long glance at today's journal news.

"Oh I Wonder… Welt?" But of course Himeko wouldn't let him dodge that one. He froze upon being called out, leaning his journal down and mimicing deep thoughts.

"Yesterday's trip must've tired her out, she's most probably resting back in her bedroom." He gave out a curt smile, a lie that looked trustable enough for March to resume her eating. But not for Dan Heng. "Weird… I knocked on her door this Morning and it was unlocked, no signs of her inside."

He hadn't expected him to pry further, and clearly didn't expect him to seek you out so early in the morning either. Welt oriented his glare towards the table they all sat around, not trusting himself to look at Dan Heng very fondly right now.

Of course you weren't in your room, you were in his- safely tucked in the comfort of his bed.

"Surely in the bathroom." The fact that it was Welt who kept answering these questions made it all painfully obvious. Himeko Simply let out a sigh, picking up her own cup of coffee to finish.

"You're a petty man."

"I know."

Pheeewww, my first one! I don't know why I had that in my mind... but oh well

Guys it’s been a minute since I’ve posted huh…..stop laughing at me😞😞😞😞

Anyway

MDNI

So I’m thinking in a modern au right….

Imagine being a pornstar and you lowkey have a secret admirer

college zandik who is in premed and never really goes out of his way to talk to anyone because he just….lowkey dgaf. He’s very set on his goal of becoming a doctor, and it takes a lot to distract him from that.

college zandik is also one of the most unintentionally sexy creatures to walk the earth. Near constantly half lidded eyes with these unfairly long lashes, glasses that sit on the bridge of his hooked nose, messy hair that always looks intentional, and a figure that’s not quite a tribute to time in the gym but just lottery-grade genes. The way his sweatpants hang from his hips is ridiculous, not to mention…well, nevermind that.

college zandik runs on coffee, spite, and pure drive. The most sleep he’s gotten in the past 6 months is probably 5 hours in one night. Even when he’s not in class or on campus, he never takes breaks from studying. It destroys his social life, but that’s not even in the realm of his mind.

college zandik is also still in the time of his life where sexual urges can get difficult to ignore once it’s been a while since taking care of them. Because of this, he’s adapted well.

He’d made a ritual of ‘rewarding himself’ when assignments or exams went well. While studying, sometimes, he’d have his tablet propped up in front of him, playing a video of you on a livestream stuffing a dildo continuously into your hole, legs spread wide open for the camera’s view.

college zandik would pump his cock to each stroke, eyes locked on the way you greedily swallowed up the toy that he’d payed for, listening to you moan his ridiculous undercover handle. His cum would splatter on the floor in a humiliating puddle, and he’d be left to clean up the evidence.

He’d sent you more money than he probably should have since finding your page. He’d pay for your coffee runs, for things you had on various wishlists, for toys he could watch you use and thank him through strings of sugary sweet moans.

college zandik fucking loved your body, and loved the way you could use it to assert so much control over him.

Little did he know, you were giggling with delight when he finally slid into your DMs (not for free, of course). You’d fully expected him to be some middle aged man with a family using you as an outlet to indulge in his guilty pleasures.

When he finally mustered up the courage to send a photo of himself, you browsed Pinterest three times, fully convinced he’d taken someone’s aesthetically pleasing, sexy selfie to use as a front. But nope, that was him.

college zandik was completely obsessed with impressing you, so he’d comply with whatever you asked. You wanted a video of him desperately stroking his cock to a photo of you? Of course. You wanted him to send an audio of him just moaning your name? Done.

For him, it was an act of degradation to please you. For you, it was the sexist man you’d ever seen bending to your will for reasons you couldn’t understand.

After that, you started sending him photos and videos free of charge.

college zandik was confused at first. He loved to give to you, but now you were the one giving to him. But more than that, you were starting to text him about more than just plain sexting.

About your day,

The things you were excited about

The things you were annoyed about,

And he started getting comfortable too.

Of course, that didn’t mean you weren’t still phonefucking 24/7. college zandik had grown more bold.

Tell me exactly how you want me to fuck you into the mattress.

You’ll cum as many times as the number I’m holding up on my fingers.

Maybe this whole time, you’re actually the one who’s been my bitch.

Heavens, had he grown vulgar. Dominant. Controlling.

You were irritating your neighbors to no end every time you fucked yourself deep on one of the dildos he’d bought you, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to envision the image of a sexy nerd on top of you, aggressively rearranging your guts, pulling your hair, cutting off your airflow, throwing you around.

Your livestreams had become so obviously self indulgent, having accidentally let a ‘zandik’ slip from your lips while you touched yourself for thousands of patrons watching you do it.

They started to speculate you had a boyfriend.

That might be nice.

Wait guys should I continue this when I’m not sleepytired

ahh if he was prez everything would be so perfect

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ thinking of men who love stealth sex ₊˚⊹ ᰔ he starts off by mindlessly kneading your thigh, before his hand dips down between them to tease at your clothed sex. your initial squirms do nothing to deter him, only serving to fuel his debauchery.

you just wanted to study in the library, but you end up cockwarming him as you hide your disheveled face behind textbooks, fingers gripping your stationary not out of frustration of the material, but from the stretch he gives. trying to focus as his ministrations makes your brain melt out of head, joining your fluids as they puddle onto the chair.

or being at a party together with him, hiding around a corner in favour of a quickie, his hand over your mouth to muffle your moans and whimpers as he uses you for his own release. people shuffle along the corridor, blind to the fact that he's right there, pounding you into the wall. he was so desperate, he didn't even bother removing your underwear, opting to push it hastily to the side so he can thrust into you.

Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’. 

Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face. 

But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body. 

Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days. 

But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. 

When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?” 

You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”

Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.

He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all. 

 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.” 

He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.

“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”

“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.

“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.

“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”

“I intend to,” his maw replies. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”

You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him." 

“I’m warning you, do not–”

“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”

Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself. 

And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him. 

So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.

You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”

“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.

“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”

“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.

“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it. 

“Well, I was thinking about it and–”

“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”

“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.” 

“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”

“No. This ends now."

In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”

“…”

“The answer is both of them.”

Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.” 

Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’. 

Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face. 

But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body. 

Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days. 

But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. 

When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?” 

You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”

Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.

He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all. 

 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.” 

He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.

“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”

“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.

“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.

“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”

“I intend to,” his maw replies. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”

You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him." 

“I’m warning you, do not–”

“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”

Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself. 

And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him. 

So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.

You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”

“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.

“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”

“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.

“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it. 

“Well, I was thinking about it and–”

“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”

“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.” 

“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”

“No. This ends now."

In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”

“…”

“The answer is both of them.”

Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.” 

Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’. 

Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face. 

But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body. 

Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days. 

But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. 

When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?” 

You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”

Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.

He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all. 

 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.” 

He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.

“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”

“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.

“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.

“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”

“I intend to,” his maw replies. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”

You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him." 

“I’m warning you, do not–”

“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”

Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself. 

And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him. 

So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.

You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”

“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.

“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”

“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.

“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it. 

“Well, I was thinking about it and–”

“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”

“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.” 

“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”

“No. This ends now."

In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”

“…”

“The answer is both of them.”

Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.” 

"Skin" Sneak peek...

A/N a sneak peek into a multi character one shot I have next on my queue. this is messy & sloppy as hell (for now) ...enjoy

Higuruma x Reader

"Hic—Ruma! S-slow…down…" you moan, knowing you had no intention of wanting him to lessen his perfect pace. "Oh, where was this compassion for me when you had my cock stuffed in this fuckin' tight cunt." He pushes you harder into the canvas, breast smothered in paint, friction causing tears to brim in your eyes, "had me fighting, mind going crazy trying not to cum in front of the whole class."

Nanami x Reader

"You looked so good up there. Almost kicked everyone out so I could fuck you…just like this." Nanami's calloused hand lands on your ass, the lewd slap bounces off the walls. You couldn't resist, "Or you could’ve had me right there, have everyone see you cream inside of me, see how their professor fucks me real good.” You felt him twitch and you clamp down in response, sending him over the edge. Cum dips in and out of you, droplets land on the drop cloth below. "Hmph, so good, sweetheart. Molding my dick so deep into my favorite student." Your professor's load is so heavy pushing up into your guts, gushing out of your hole with every drill he pounds into you, “y-you dirty girl, what am I going to do with you.”

Gojo x Reader

"I told you yesterday, that was the last time-" "No," he interrupts. You feel a sharp sting on your neck, a deep possessive suck of your skin tugs between his lips, "I say when it's the last time and I'm not done with you yet." It's only been 12 hours and you almost forgot the intoxicating burn of his touch "Tell me to stop, please..." You shake your head, hands snake through his white strands. "Let me hear those words, slut," Gojo lifts his head from between the crook of your neck, blue eyes see straight through you, "No? Okay, don't want any back talk when I have you cummin' so hard you can barely walk til next week." 

Zuko x Reader

Legs over his shoulders, his hands grip the back of your thighs, "you fill me so good, Zuko." Your praise unlocks something in him. His hands push your thighs deeper into your chest, strokes landing deeper at this new angle. "S'tight, p-professor," his eyes water, too shy to meet yours. You want to take him to his limit. You want to feel his tears land on your skin, feel his cum pulsate through you. "Look at how my pussy takes my top student…" Zuko's head falls forward, his silky hair following, feathering on your skin, "Oh, you like that? Like how good you spilt your favorite teacher open?" 

————————-

masterlist (🎶skin - Rihana)

All rights reserved to @chosomyfavwife. Plagiarizing & translating are NOT allowed. Reposting to other platforms is NOT authorized. 

NO SAFE DISTANCE ⋆✦⋆ ushijima wakatoshi

tags ➸ extremely rough séx, size kínk, breéding kínk, cúmplay, overstimúlation, obséssive!ushijima, possessíveness, mild somnóphilia, unrestrained libído, degrádation, power imbalance, prímal play, impáct play, creampíe, implied dub-con, body worship, orál fixation, hair púlling, edgíng, forcéd orgásm, dírty talking, markíng, extreme sexúal tensíon, objectifícation, free use(?)

wc ➸ 7.9k

I NEED THAT ZANDIHHH SO BAD PLSSSS

───𝒮EVEN DEADLY SL*TS ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃

content: your parents pulled you out of college and sent you to a “discipline camp” because they thought you were too 'exposed' and 'dirty' plus, they were super religious. However instead of fixing you, it does the exact opposite of that. tags: counselor!gojo satoru :: pastor!toji fushiguro :: camp leader!nanami kento :: instructor!sukuna ryomen :: disciplinarian!geto suguru :: cleaner!choso kamo :: elder!hiromi higuruima :: fem!reader :: jjk :: creampie :: blowjob :: smut :: etc

w.c. 4.3k

tag: @charlisflyingangell

Gojo ✩ Satoru — Pride

You were doing this on purpose. You’d been at this camp for a month now and you’d purposely gotten into trouble more times than you could count. Why?

It's simple really.

Your counselor was hot—like..really fucking hot. Gojo Satoru. The hottest man in camp. He was most likely in his early thirties, with the hottest body you’d ever seen. But your favorite part?

The way he spoke to you when you broke the rules. His voice is always so strict and proper. You craved knowing how his voice was when he lost control.

So, you always showed up to his office dressed in barely contained outfits—short skirts, tops that barely contained your breasts—another rule you always broke.

And he noticed. Of course, he noticed. How could he not?

The way your eyes always flickered to his biceps. The way you shifted in your seat, your skirt riding higher every time you sat down in front of him, wearing that same innocent expression. Before leaving his office, you always leaned over his table to say 'thank you, sir', allowing him a clear view of your breasts before leaving with a grin.

God, you were killing him.

wake up, dottonation.

we have an old man to goon.

tw: suggestive.

In Contempt

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈

¡Law Professor Higuruma!

Warnings: ¡fem! receiving oral, praise, making out, implied age difference with reader in 20's and Higuruma 36, face sitting, slapping at one part

────────────୨ৎ────────────

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who is known for having a 60% pass rate in your little college. It isn't that the man is bad at teaching, it's just people can't focus when they have a hunk like him in front of them!

He shows up in a black, pressed suit every day with a signature coffee in hand— enough to make the coeds drool. Then again, practically any man who isn't partying all week in sigma alpha epsilon or sigma chi is a total upgrade.

Then there was his constant relaxed expression like the actor Adrien Brody in the early 2010's. His voice was smooth and had a deeper pitch to it than the 20 year old men that look around lecture halls waiting to hit on some sorority girl. He carried himself with an air of silent confidence a 36 year old man should have, and a spritz of Versace Eros.

His voice could practically be recorded and uploaded into some asmr channel and have a couple thousands subscribers; even if he's just talking about actus reus or mens rea. He'd lean his hip against the desk while flipping through whatever case file he was discussing for the week and all you could focus on was how he rolled his cuffed sleeves up: exposing his delicious forearms.

Needless to say, you were pretty distracted all of the first semester which quickly nipped you in the butt when you took the midterm and got a whopping 65%. You were quick to message Professor Higuruma to try and sweet talk him into any possible extra credit.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who didn't necessarily say no to redemption, but he didn't like it. After all, it was college and it's important the adults he taught to grasp the content since they're training to be important members of society.

However, when he read over your professional, but clearly panicked, email and saw that you had completed his optional assignments— he cut you some slack. He arranged a meeting to go over the exam and review all the materials for partial credit on the assessment. Every day he saw you attend class, sit in the front row, and hang onto every word he'd say. He thought it was pretty sweet he had a student so attentive to their learning. If only he knew half of that "learning" was just trying to memorize the image of a vein running up his forearm.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who scheduled the one on one meeting for after his last class on Friday, for he really didn't want to do extra work on the weekends. Though you quickly obliged and threw out all Friday night plans with your friends; you did need that partial credit and you wanted an excuse to be with him.

Soon enough Friday rolls around and you showed up to his office at 5:30 pm sharp, like he instructed, all bright eyed and bushy tailed as you knocked on the door before pushing it open. His office was about how you'd expect with a basic brown couch that looked straight out of a Tuscany mom's house, books pilled on the bookshelves that lined the far end of the room, and a coffee table.

"Ah, quite punctual. Good trait to have— bit of a dying cultural thing," he comments with a slight smile that let you know he was trying to be welcoming by joking; well, slightly joking. "I hope you don't mind working at the coffee table. I was trying to reserve a study room in the library, but it seems like a few groups of students already took them"

"That'd be the literature majors! I believe Professor Nanami is having his midterm on Monday," you informed him with a smile while moving to the table and plopping yourself down on the couch. You'd worn a skirt, though slightly regretted it when you felt the cold leather kiss the back of your thighs.

"Hm," he hummed while standing from his desk and gathering papers you soon recognized as your actual midterm, "that would make sense. What was it Kento was teaching? The Chrysanthemum and the Sword?"

"Yep," you chirped, then immediately realized this is your professor you're speaking with so you swiftly switched your tone: "Um-.. Yes, sir"

Higuruma gave you a small glance, but inevitably just sat down in the couch beside you, but gave a respectable distance as he opened the exam packet for review.

"Well then, let's begin at the start with torts"

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who has now been beside you reviewing each individual question for nearly 2 hours. Apparently, you got a lot more wrong than you realized. You could've sworn you never learned about the rule against perpetuities.

Though, throughout your session you kept trying to gradually shift closer to the man. Whenever he'd point to a word to emphasis in the question, you'd lean over and tilt your legs towards him; as if being unable to properly see the font. He never commented on it; though one time your knees bumped lightly against his and he just cleared his throat and shifted his legs to not man spread, so you'd have more room.

"It's a notoriously abstract topic that requires analyzing if a property interest will certainly vest, fail, or be destroyed within a life in being—.. being plus 21 years."

He clears his throat, for probably the tenth time this hour, when he glanced over to you only to see you already staring at him through those pretty lashes.

"Oh so like, if a person grants land to their children, then to their grandchildren, it might be a violation if there is any possibility the grandchildren's interest could vest more than 21 years after the last child dies?" you ask back while referencing the question at hand.

"Yes, exactly. You're catching on quick— smart girl," he comments while flipping the page. It was a simple compliment, though the praise did shoot straight to your stomach as a familiar ache set in.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who has now been here with you for four hours. You had suggested the both of you going home simply because you didn't want to burden his entire Friday night, but he insisted he'd just rather finish the work now.

So, after a customary cup of coffee from his personal espresso machine, the two of you were nearing the last several questions of the exam. You were sure his office light would be the only one illuminating the otherwise dark building. Throughout the entire session, you had gradually inched closed until your thigh is finally brushing against his. He didn't comment on it, but you started to notice his subtle glanced towards your thighs every time he'd flip the next page.

"Alright, for this question I can understand your train of thought; however, it isn't the best answer"

"Mhm, and what is?" damn you're not even attempting to look at the paper at this point. He loosened his tie a while ago and just let his usually precise, white button up shirt open to expose more of his neck.

"Well..," he paused, gazing towards you for a moment since he's felt your stare since three minutes ago. He should've known better than allowing you to stay longer. Professors really weren't even supposed to meet with students past 6 pm— much less sit alone with a student who's been eye fucking him for the past 2 hours. "Hm, well, the distinguished evidence between civil and criminal law is advanced more appropriately in C because—"

"Yeah? I didn't really see that during the test I guess"

You hadn't even realized you began to subtly nibble on the edge of your bottom lip. Though, Higuruma does.

"Or maybe it's just getting hard to concentrate. I hope you don't mind a little brain break? Then we can knock out the rest of the questions," you proposed while not tearing your eyes off his dark ones.

"Hm, yes. That could do us good, and I don't mind it at all"

His gaze switched between your lips to your eyes, but you stayed fixated on his lips and rosy cheeks. Staring at him, you also realized just how close you were to the man. Since when were you nearly only 6 inches away face to face?

The moment continued for a couple more seconds, then the tension finally built up too much like a rushing river and the dam broke. You leaned in before he did, but he was quick to bring his steady hands up to tangle in your hair.

His mouth was moving against yours like a trained veteran as he sets the rhythm and lightly tilts your head back to prep for a new angle. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you quickly catch the memo and let the wet muscle slot into your mouth.

You can't even tell how long the two of you had been kissing, but you did know one of his hands managed to drift to under your shirt and smoothed over your waist. Finally though, he's quickly pulling back with barley widened eyes as he stared at you. His breathing was heavier, much like yours.

"Oh god— sorry, sorry," he's apologizing while beginning to take his hand off your side, or at least not have it up your shirt. His mind is instantly racking through all the meetings and paperwork he'd have to fool with if anyone figured out he kissed a student and reported it. Sure, the both of you were adults but that doesn't negate the fact that you're on campus grounds.

"Huh? No, no it's fine," your hand shot down to his wrist in attempt to prevent him from breaking contact, "I wanted that"

Eyes trailing back down to your lips, body instinctively giving in to lean forward once more, but he catches himself when you readjust your grip on his wrist. Gently, he's still removing his hand from you.

"It's just we really shouldn't be doing this— it entirely breaks the universities policy"

You're practically following his body when he tries to subtly lean away. You bite your lip slightly to conceal your pout, but this disappointment was prevalent.

"It's okay," you insist but he's already just leaning back on the couch and one hand is pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes close in thought. He doesn't like annoyed, but he's definitely showing an emotion you'd never witnessed before. "I've wanted to do that for a while, do you not want to?"

"It's-.. it's not a matter of want, it's what's right. As a professor, I'm not supposed to be seen like—"

"Oh like you don't know half the class wants to fuck you"

The words come out so quick you hardly had time to process them before they have already slipped out. It was the truth, but perhaps you shouldn't have worded it like that. You see his hand drag down his face, eyes opening as it just covers his mouth for a second. Finally, it's slipping off his lips and lower jaw and falling back into his lap.

"No, I don't know what you're talking about. This is all strictly educator and student. I-.. I think we should continue with the last few questions—"

"Professor Higuruma," you interrupted. He had gone back to trying to pick up the paper from the coffee table, but your tone makes him retreat: leaving it abandoned. "If.. you want this, then I'd really like to give it to you..."

His gaze is locked on you as his mind move a mile a minute while mulling over each possible outcome. All of which get interrupted when the idea of what you sound like cumming takes over. Rapidly, and without much more consideration, he's making his choice.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who was clearly no longer hesitant if you consider the position he's got you in.

He's laying back on the couch with his ankles dangling off due to his height. At his face, he's managed to convince you to hover your pretty pussy over it as he works at slurping up the sweet nectar. Well, hovering was your idea that he wasn't particularly fond of.

After your horny, needy confirmation, he was swift about getting to business and continuing the previously paused makeout. In the middle of trailing wet kisses down your neck, an idea popped into his head. However, you would've never thought that "idea" would spiral into you face sitting for the first time.

Sure you'd seen it in porn, but no one actually did that— right? I mean the couple of men you've been with certainly weren't itching to eat you out like your professor was. All that stuff about men actually caring about a woman's orgasm had to just be porn and the fanfics you read late at night. Today seemed to be the day you were proven wrong though.

"Sweetheart, just sit down," he insisted while his hands were settled on your hips. He didn't want to necessarily shove you down on him, but he was so damn close to it. He didn't understand the complication: all you had to do was suffocate him with your sloppy pussy.

"B-but I might hurt you—"

"You're not going to hurt me"

"You don't know how much I weigh! Let's just do it like—!" by the unfortunate, unholy grace of god, your knee slightly slipped off the slippery leather couch and forced you down. Instantly you were worried from how hard you might've hit his nose— you'd probably die from embarrassment if he bled.

However, after slipping you immediately felt warm, hard licks through your lips as a groan vibrates against your skin. You go to lift yourself slightly and check on the man, but his fingers dig into the plush of your waist as he made a disapproving groan before it shifted into a moan once he shoved his tongue into your hole.

"F-fuck, Professor Higuruma—" you whined out on instinct, but he immediately delivered, not a harsh but firm, slap to your ass that made you jolt. He mumbled something incoherent since your vulvas were literally muffling his speech, but you could make out him just repeating his name for you to call him.

He's moving your hips entirely on his own as he drags your body up and down his face while he begins to suck on your nub and then delivered a playful nibble that had you gasping.

"Just grind baby. Yeah, yeah like that," he groans: his voice husky and clouded with pleasure as his eyes remain shut. You begin to roll your hips downwards, just slightly, so your clit could catch on the bridge of his nose.

Eventually, his hands leave your hips and instead trail themselves to wrap more around the back of your thigh and loop over to the front. From that position, he glides his hands down your navel before they reach your pussy and gently pull back the outer folds. This time, he did slit his eyes open while watching your drip all over his face and expensive leather couch.

"God, you're gorgeous," he mumbled as if to himself, "so so beautiful baby. Tell me, does your pussy get this wet for other dumb guys? Are you drenched by some pathetic frat boy trying to grind on you like a dog?"

"No-..! No! Higuruma—"

"No even that bleached one?" he then inquires and if you weren't so distracted with the way his tongue was shoved into your pussy, maybe you would've realized his reference. The guy who was in your law class and purposefully sat beside you— Higuruma noticed him long ago. Though if he noticed, that does mean he's been thinking of you.

"N-no, no one"

You maybe babbled some more things as you got lost in the pleasure, but you don't care. You feel one of his hands leave holding your pussy open and instead slip into it. Easily, his finger slides into you hole with all the natural lubrication you were producing.

"Mhm, tell me about it," he mutters when you moan over his finger curling just right. "Making you feel so good, huh? Should've let me take care of you hours ago. Poor baby probably hasn't even been paying attention— just fantasizing about this pussy being stuffed"

His lewd words almost surprise you— the put together professor, never one hair misplaced or his tie not properly tucked, was actually finger fucking you while licking up the mess you made?

"R-right there! There!" whining out repetitively as you feel yourself approaching your climax. "Higuruma right there please"

You words sound like the prettiest melody Higuruma ever had the pleasure to listen to. He felt his cock aching and he was tempted to trail a hand down to squeeze it— wanting to relieve some tension. Though, he tried to just stay focused on you and not how he throbbed every time you whined his name.

"I hear you," he groans while redoubling his efforts by flicking his tongue against your clit and even tracing figure 8's. "Sound so pretty sweetheart. Let me hear you when you cum"

One of your hand latches onto the front of his hair while you yanked at the roots subconsciously and leaned forward; placing a hand on the arm rest of the couch as your thighs trembled.

You're coming undone over his face as whines, moans, and high pitched groans escape your bruised lips, from all the earlier kissing, and fill the other wise silent atmosphere. Higuruma helps you ride your orgasm by soft suckles to your clit, then eventually eases off once you let go of his hair.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who softly guided you off his face to instead slide down his chest and into his lap. He didn't bother wiping the slick that covered his nose as he sat up, which forced you to sit more over the pronounced bulge in his slacks. Your clit catches the fabric just right as you felt his warm, heavy cock under you and it almost made you whine and start rutting into him. He just quietly appreciated how your weight felt settled over his dick as he rolled his hips up once, but paused when you gasped— overstimulated.

He did let his thumb dip to the side of his lips and push whatever slick he could find back onto his tongue.

"You taste so good," he mumbled while leaning to press a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him as his hand cradled your face softly.

Unsurprisingly, you were quick to make a "returning the favor" joke as your hips followed their natural instinct to rock on his lap.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who never in his life thought he'd be sneaking around with a student. Though, he couldn't deny the excitement that coursed through his body whenever he saw you show up to class every day and sit front row.

Frequent visits to his penthouse apartment, car, school office, and whatever somewhat 'classy,' quiet space we could find.

At first he beat himself up about it. Him sleeping with his much younger student like some weirdo professor that needs to grow the fuck up? It truly made him almost spiral for the first few days.

As your moans became imprinted in his memory and the way you'd tear up right as you came— only to slap a hand over your mouth— became all he could think about.

How soft and warm your walls felt the first time he was pushing into you as you laid in his bed. How his hand trailed to your clit to rub small circles as you adjusted to his size and girth. How it felt when he was able to lean down and wrap his arms around your upper back and cradle the back of your head, then begin just pistoling his hips into you while chasing his orgasm.

Soon this affair drifted from one week into several, then into months. Higuruma kept it hidden from others in his life, but he never wanted you to feel bad for the arrangement. So, he'd still take you on dates to expensive restaurants he knew no college student could afford; therefore, someone wouldn't see the two of you together. Or he'd drive you to the expensive outdoor mall on the other side of town that had designer brands and insist on you 'picking something pretty' out.

Overall, your sex life was more than satisfied and your grade in his class returned to an A+. Though that wasn't because he adjusted them due to you sleeping with him— that's a line he'd never cross. He had to maintain some dignity. Instead, it was through him helping you with concepts and always being free to answer questions about material in class.

He cared for his sweetheart, so even when one time you pulled off of sucking his dick to ask about the Erie doctrine, he'd just begin explaining it like he was lecturing. Totally not getting distracted by how you looked on his knees, so eager to lap up any precum trailing down his thick length.

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A/N: thinking of making this a series with different JJK characters as professors

art in banner is from @hunnismoker on instagram!

᭡୧ Fix your route? Nah, Fuck you right. — N. Kento.

᭡୧ synopsis: in which nanami is a longtime divorced man but got a very active sex life. and in which a new, bimbo… and a very much younger neighbor moves in next to his apartment. worst part is, he’s not able to control himself around you. especially when you’re at his door, asking him to fix your wifi late at this hour.

᭡୧ pairing: older!nanami kento x kinda bimbo fem!reader

᭡୧ c. warnings: age gap, heavy sexuál tension, eyefu cking, solo m. mast urbation, nanami is in his 40s and reader is early 20s, belly/tummy bulge, fing ering, did i say heavy se xual tension?, pus sy eating, overstim ulation, squi rting, weak plot/heavy po rn — if there’s more to tag lmk. w.c: 7.8k+

nanami kento has always kept his life neat and quiet, the kind of man who folds his shirts the same way every morning and times his coffee exactly seven minutes after the water boils. forty years old, divorced once a long time ago, and now he lives alone in the corner apartment on the fourth floor where the hallway light flickers just enough to remind him he should probably call maintenance but never does.

his sex life is the same as everything else he controls, sparse and deliberate. a few times a year he lets himself download one of those bland apps, meets a woman his age in a hotel bar, fucks her slow and polite in the dark so neither of them has to look too closely at the other.

most nights though it is just his own hand in the shower, quick and efficient, eyes closed while he thinks about nothing at all. he likes it that way. clean. no mess. no complications. until you moved in next door three months ago and ruined every single one of those careful rules without even trying.

you showed up on a rainy tuesday with too many cardboard boxes and a laugh that carried through the thin walls like it belonged there.

early twenties, fresh out of whatever college or job that spat you into this building, always in oversized shirts and tiny sleep shorts that rode up the back of your thighs when you bent over to pick up your mail. nanami noticed you the first time he passed you in the hallway, the way you smiled at him like he was just another neighbor instead of a man who suddenly felt every one of those twenty years between you. he told himself it was nothing. just new noise in a building that had been quiet for years. but then the noise became something else.

the soft thump of your music when you cooked dinner, the way your balcony light stayed on late while you scrolled on your phone, the faint vanilla scent that drifted under his door every time you took out the trash. he started catching himself pausing at the peephole when he heard your keys, hating the way his cock twitched at the mere sound of your footsteps. hating it more when he realized he was hard again in the shower that same night, fist wrapped tight around himself while he pictured those sleep shorts pooled around your ankles.

he tried to ignore it at first. threw himself into longer office hours, came home later, kept the volume on his television higher so he would not hear you humming in the shower through the shared wall. it did not work.

AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR F*CKING MY EX’ DADDY?

feat. Gojo Satoru/Reader, Fushiguro Toji/Reader, Higuruma Hiromi/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Ryomen Sukuna/Reader, Nanami Kento/Reader, Kong Shiu/Reader

trigger/warning. ex’s father, ex’s dad, daddy kink, revenge sex, corrective sex, l desperate sex, rough sex, slow deep sex, breeding kink, creampie, cüm inside/cüm dump/cüm inflation, dirty talk/heavy dirty talk, degradation kink, verbal degradation, praise kink, size kink, huge cock, manhandling, possessive sex, overstimulation, multiple orgäsms, sqüirting, wet and messy, sloppy sëx, pü$$y juice, scissoring, tribbing, desk sëx/wall sëx/shower sëx, full nelson, college au, dorm room sëx, older man/younger woman, age difference, loud sëx, risk of getting caught; trying to be quiet/hand over mouth/muffled moans, sleep deprived sëx, married sëx, pü$$y drunk, cöck drunk, mind break, dumbification, corruption, ruined orgäsm, creämpie eating, belly bulge, cervix fücking, womb fücking

A/N DADDYYYYY KINKKKKK

Gojo Satoru

the flash goes off, harsh and bright in the dim lamplight of his bedroom, catching the way his large hand splays possessively over the curve of your hip, the way your back arches off the rumpled sheets, the way his silver hair falls messily across his forehead, eyes half-lidded and focused entirely on the place where your bodies meet. the phone is heavy in your shaky grip, but your smile is sharp, a razor's edge of triumph as you tap out the message to the contact labeled simply "ex (do not answer)". the image attached is obscene, a perfect capture of satoru's thick cock splitting you open, your wetness glistening on his shaft, his mouth pressed to the hinge of your jaw in a lazy, claiming kiss. you hit send before the wave of pleasure cresting inside you can make you drop the device, letting it tumble onto the mattress beside your head as a breathless, vindictive laugh escapes your throat.