Lovely, Lovely

Lovely, Lovely

feat.: Viktor / fem!reader

summary: When Viktor struggles with self-doubt, you show him just how much you love him.

warnings: nsfw content, body worship, praise kink, pet names, oral sex, hurt/comfort, vaginal sex, riding, mild hair pulling, mild size difference, teasing, fluff and hurt/comfort

Despite having spent many years on the Topside, Viktor had never thought of himself as a true Piltie.

He did his best to impersonate one, sure — his clothing, all fine fabric and just as expertly tailored as Jayce's, was proof of that —, but the true citizens, the ones who had an actual right to walk upon pristine pavements and gaze at marble buildings, did their best to remind him that he, in fact, did not belong in a world this beautiful, this wealthy.

Still, he had hoped to be able to hide this fact from you for at least a while.

As his newly assigned assistant who had just moved to Piltover, you were still highly impressionable and hadn't seen nor heard much of the Undercity yet, which was why Viktor preferred to avoid the topic of where he had grown up altogether.

He was rather fond of you too, and even though you had only worked with him for about two months now, you seemed to reciprocate his romantic feelings — or so he hoped, anyway.

Your relationship was still frail and Viktor was sure that, if he wasn't particularly careful, it was going to break apart as easily as a newly grown twig.

(When expressing those thoughts to you, you had claimed it wouldn't, that you loved him, and he had known then the problem was that he himself didn't think he was deserving of love.)

Frankly said, he didn't want you to leave his side this soon again, and while hindering you from seeing the less gorgeous aspects of Piltover only to keep you close was rather selfish, being aware of one's flaws and being able to defy them were two different stories.

It was, however, also a plan that was obvious to fail sooner or later — in this specific case, sooner.

The shopping trip, as you had so lovingly referred to it, you were on to stock up on supplies had been surprisingly fun, with playful banter and teasing comments being thrown back and forth between the two of you.

The relaxed atmosphere shifted the second you entered another promising looking shop, one stuffed to the brink with little trinkets and rather complicated looking machines that Viktor didn't bother to spare a glance at.

His shoulders tensed just the slightest bit at the way the guy behind the counter stared at him, contempt and disgust evident in his gaze, though Viktor refused to get discouraged this quickly. Perhaps he was simply misinterpreting body language and expressions, though it was one he had seen often enough.

Still, he dared to hope that this little trip of yours wasn't going to turn into something ugly.

Luck wasn't on his side, of course.

“I don't sell to Undercity scum. Fuck off.”

The man's voice was clipped, his eyes narrowed. Despite Viktor's rather tall stature, he towered over him — and over you no less. When smirking, he revealed crooked, yet oddly white teeth.

“Wouldn't mind chatting with that girlie, though. You don't mind, do you? No way she's a cripple's girlfriend.”

His arms were large, biceps bulging, and Viktor decided right then and there that provoking a fight was not worth it, especially not in your presence. No amount of pride was worth endangering you.

You, however, seemed to disagree.

“That's no way to talk to a customer.”

Honestly, for just a second Viktor contemplated if he was hallucinating as you suddenly moved in front of him, arms crossed in a defensive gesture.

This was ridiculous — you weren't nearly as tall as him and not even close to reaching the guy's shoulders, looking all delicate and soft in your skirt and blouse, like a proper lady—, a proper Piltie, and yet you stepped between him and the stranger.

The guy, apparently, seemed just as taken aback by your attitude as Viktor himself.

“Go on, apologise”, you said, a demand rather than a suggestion, your chin raised provocatively, “Or do you want your shop's reputation to be ruined? We're working with the Academy where, I believe, most of your customers are from. That could easily be changed.”

A bluff, a quite obvious one at that. If the situation hadn't been this tense, Viktor would have chuckled as the guy frowned, gears visibly turning in his head to process your words.

He eventually grunted. “Fuck off.” Then, as an afterthought: “I don't want no trouble.”

A quick glance at your face, all drawn together brows and narrowed eyes, made it obvious you weren't satisfied. Viktor was quick to drag you outside, using his free hand to grasp your wrist — honestly, it was rather surprising the situation hadn't yet escalated. There was no use pushing one's luck.

By the time an all too familiar house was in sight, Viktor had let go of you, his skin now tingling where he had just felt the warmth of your body against his, and only then did he notice you were sulking, your lips pushed forward.

He abruptly averted his gaze again. Your lips weren't a good place to focus on, not when they shone with just the slightest hint of gloss. Despite being open for new experiences, walking through Piltover with a hard-on really wasn't something he wanted to try out.

“I'm pretty sure I could've gotten him to apologise”, you eventually said, “We shouldn't have left. Now he thinks he can get away with rude comments like that.”

Viktor scoffed. “You have terrible self-preservation skills, dear.” He let out a sigh at your frown. “If we had not left, there would have been a fight and, forgive me for doubting your abilities, but that guy would've smashed your head in with one hit.”

There were many reactions he had expected in response to his words — anger, sadness perhaps —, though you giggling a little hadn't been one of them.

“You're right. I don't know what I was thinking either, honestly. I'm not usually this reckless, I promise. I just didn't want that guy to insult you.”

Your gaze was warm, fond as you looked at him. Viktor grimaced as he turned away to unlock the door and let you in. He only realised now that, out of pure habit, he had led you to his personal apartment rather than to the Academy's lab.

“I'm more than capable of defending myself. I simply didn't think it was worth it.”

“Well, to me it was. You shouldn't let people speak to you like that.”

“Eh, he wasn't wrong, you know.” Viktor shrugged, putting down his bag. “I might be a professor now, but outside of the Academy I'm still but a poor cripple from the Undercity. You just don't want it to be true — yet.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, don't act a fool, dear. Idiocy doesn't suit you.” Two of his fingers moved to massage his own temples. “We both know you'll eventually move on to someone who's more your league.”

Your silence was almost too much to bear, the atmosphere suddenly suffocating. Despite wanting to do anything but, Viktor forced himself to turn around, to face you.

He couldn't help but cringe at your stunned expression.

It seemed damage control was an appropriate measure to take now.

“I didn't mean to come across as crude, I assure you”, he said, hands raised in a gesture of mock surrender, “I've simply come to accept this as what will inevitably happen in the future. Not that I'm not grateful for the time we're currently spending together — I beg you, don't purposely misunderstand me.”

And he really was begging — internally, of course — for you to not take this the wrong way, to not turn away and leave him already, because there were so many ways his words could have easily been misinterpreted, or perhaps he even meant them just like this; perhaps he secretly ached for you to leave him before he got even more attached.

His grip on the cane tightened, knuckles protruding in a stark white.

For this much of a genius he certainly felt a fool.

Self sabotage had always been an odd form of self love.

“You're such an idiot. I can't believe you.”

And, ah, there it was, though your voice was odd — it lacked the anger, the disgust he had expected to hear.

“I'm not going to leave you, Viktor.”

Warm hands cradled his face as you reached up to him, a smile on your lips, though your eyes shone with unspilled tears. “I never will, I promise. Besides, I'd never be able to find someone who's more perfect than you are.”

Viktor couldn't help but stare at you, thin lips pressed together into a tight line because, honestly, if he wasn't careful, a sob might have torn itself from his throat.

“You don't know that”, he said, the sharp pain of embarrassment spreading in his chest at the way his voice was trembling, “Don't make promises you can't keep.”

“I'm going to keep it.” Your smile seemed awfully sincere. “You're not getting rid of me this easily, Viktor. Guess you're stuck with me now.”

Everything felt hot, awfully hot; Viktor was sure his cheeks were flushed and his hands trembling from where they ached, yet not dared to touch you.

You stood up on your tiptoes to kiss the tears away right after they fell, your momentary silence not judgement but comfort, warm soft love surrounding him like a blanket and a glass of sweetmilk after an exhausting day. 

“Guess I'm stuck with you”, he eventually said, his own smile so fragile compared to your radiant one, though you stared at him like you had never seen something more beautiful.

For some reason, your reaction stirred the urge in him to smile like this more often; honest and vulnerable, without the usual snark and cynicism. 

The tip of your nose was almost touching his. In the back of his mind he noted that the position was surely straining for your neck. 

“Also”, you said, successfully steering his attention back to you, “I can only hope you don't seriously believe a word of what that guy said. You're such a pretty boy, don't you know that?” 

Viktor was sure that, if he had been more machine than man, he would've short circuited right then and there. His eyes were wide; his mind, helpful as ever, kept stumbling over the words 'pretty boy' — honestly, this was a description that would have fit Jayce or any other remotely attractive man, but him? 

You were still holding his face, your thumbs softly tracing over sharp cheekbones. If you were lying, you were doing an excellent job at it. For some reason he doubted that was the case. 

A brief expression of mischief flashed over your face, your eyes suddenly sparkling with mirth. 

“Seems like you don't quite believe me yet”, you said, your voice a low purr, and Viktor had to actively force himself to not stare at your plump lips right in front of him. “Why don't I tell you just what exactly I love so much about you? Wait — how about if I show you instead?” 

Viktor's throat felt too dry all of a sudden. He almost mourned the loss of tenderness as you pulled your hands away from his face, though he was quickly consoled as they were instead placed on the flat of his chest, fingers splayed out to touch as much of him as possible, even with the layer of clothes still separating you. 

Then your lips were on his, just as soft and plump as they had looked the whole day. A hint of artificial cherry flavour spread in his mouth, most likely from your chapstick — or was it lip gloss? What was the difference between the two, anyway? —, and he couldn't help but groan into the kiss as, quite suddenly, one of your hands grasped at his cock through his trousers. 

At his already half-hard cock. 

“Oh?” you said, a breathless giggle escaping you, your breath warm against his lips. “This can't be only because of one kiss. Guess you liked it when I called you a pretty boy, right?” 

With the way his dick visibly twitched in your hold, no response was necessary. Viktor nodded nonetheless, his cheeks feeling way too hot, though the humiliation only added to how intoxicating the whole situation was. 

Then you broke away from another kiss and Viktor had to actively suppress a whine at the loss. 

“Let's move this to the bed, shall we?” Your hand grasped his free one, your fingers interlacing. Viktor's heart ached with the sudden amount of fondness he felt for you. “I'd love to continue here, but you're simply too tall for this to be comfortable. My spine is probably broken already.”

Viktor snorted; some of his usual snark finally returning to him. “That's not how anatomy works, dearest. Your spine doesn't suddenly collapse into itself just because you've strained it a little.” 

“Well”, you said, tone accusatory as you dragged him towards his bedroom, “That just makes it sound like you're not worried about my wellbeing.” 

“I'm very concerned, I promise you.” Viktor easily settled on the bed with his back against the wall, his trousers partly unbuttoned because of your fumbling fingers. The way you instinctively propped his bad leg up on a pillow made his heart clench just a little. “Though part of my concern rather stems from the way my dick is straining against these pants. It's most uncomfortable.”

You let out a breathless laugh as you reached up to tuck one strand of hair behind Viktor's ear, leaving his cheeks flushed at the oddly intimate gesture. “Guess those have to go then, hm? I did promise to show you in great detail what I love about you. That's not happening while you're still dressed.” 

He raised his eyebrows in response, head tilted to the side. “Oh? And why not?” 

Despite the question, he was quick to stand once more and strip; the cane bumped ungracefully against the bed frame as he leaned onto it to get out of his trousers and, just for a second, burning hot humiliation shot up his spine — or perhaps it was simply the dull pain he did his best to ignore.

His nails dug into the metal of the cane by the time he finished undressing, bitter and cruel thoughts once more prominent as he thought you wouldn't have to put up with all of this if only you gave all your love to someone else, to someone better. 

As you took his hands into yours, he almost barked out a laugh. You, ever observant, doing your best to keep his mind from straying into darkness. 

Him, not deserving of any of your kindness. 

A second later, he was gently pushed back down onto the mattress by your hands and, oh, he wasn't able to fully suppress the quiet gasp that left his lips at the sight in front of him. 

He hadn't noticed that you had undressed as well, having been too caught up in his own struggle — mild disappointment sparked in him at the thought of missing the sight of you stripping; for him no less. He made a mental note to ask you to strip for him once more in the future, with him properly watching this time. 

Now, however, you had settled on his lap, your plush thighs framing his thin ones as you hummed, tilting your head to the side in a thoughtful manner. “Where should I begin? Ah, I know. Best to start from the top, right?” 

Viktor swallowed, then nodded. A wry smirk found its way onto his lips; an attempt at gathering his usual wits, though he, for once, seemed rather speechless. “That seems to be the most logical order, yes.” 

“Alright.” Your hands moved up to his head and were quick to tangle in his hair, slowly carding through it. “First things first, I adore your hair. To this day I still don't know how you keep it this soft while working with all kinds of chemicals all day long. I bet some councillors have already asked you to give up your hair care secrets, am I right?” 

Your words got a chuckle out of Viktor. “You're being ridiculous”, he said, his voice warm, “The councillors would never dare to ask someone for advice. They're way too proud to admit they're not all-knowing.” 

He moaned as your nails scraped over his scalp; a low and guttural sound, his eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. 

“Next, I love that brilliant mind of yours.” Your lips pressed against his forehead in a soft kiss and your palms once more cupped his cheeks. “We're both aware of how awfully smart you are. Don't let this get to your head, though.” 

Viktor made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat in response. 

“I adore that you're this handsome”, you said, cutting him off with a click of your tongue as he opened his mouth to either disagree or to doubt your sanity. “Your cheekbones, your prominent jaw line, your eyes, the moles and freckles — I can't even pick a favourite feature of yours.” 

Viktor hadn't thought of it as possible, but his cheeks seemed to grow even hotter at your words, a lovely blush spreading out over his face. The fact that your hands were still cradling him only made this worse; he was sure you were able to feel the traitorous warmth bleed from his skin onto yours.

You chuckled, a soft sound Viktor wanted to memorise forever and beyond. “You're so cute”, you said, luckily sparing him from any more teasing comments as you instead moved further down his body.

Your hands were tracing intricate patterns on his chest while you pressed open-mouthed kisses to the pale expanse of his throat, to his prominent collar bones and ribs, not once failing to mention just how gorgeous you thought he was.

At this point Viktor was unable to conceal the way he was panting, his whole body trembling as he forced himself to stay unmoving as you continued your path down his body.

You took your time too; soft lips meeting the tiny scars on his palms and placing kisses to calloused fingers.

His cock was hard against his thigh, swollen and flushed with a lewd amount of precum beading at the head, slowly dripping down the length of it.

“Dear”, he eventually said, his voice low, accent thicker than usual, “I hate to interrupt you, but if you don't get to the point of touching me soon, I'll go crazy.”

His knuckles were a stark white colour because of how forcefully he was grasping at the sheets, fighting the urge to grab and yank at your hair in impatience.

You looked up at him through your lashes from where you were currently pressing a kiss to one of his protruding hip bones, all doe eyes and slightly swollen lips because of the kisses you had shared. Viktor would have loved to take a picture of you right then and there.

“Oh? But I am touching you, am I not?” Your lips curled upwards in a mischievous smile, your brows raised. “I haven't even shown you yet how much I love those thighs of yours.”

Viktor grit his teeth together, his whole body tense. The thighs you still wanted to give your love to were shaking.

“At least get me off first.” It was more of a demand than a request, though you apparently — luckily — let it slide.

You sighed, the noise sounding like amusement rather than disappointment, as you slowly moved your hands inwards; roaming from slim hips to thin thighs and, eventually, coming to rest just next to his dick, a smirk on your face, and Viktor couldn't hold back an exasperated groan, his head tipping backwards at your teasing.

“I thought this was supposed to be about me”, he choked out as your fingers feathered over his cock, the touch so light it was barely even there at all. “You're doing a horrible job at keeping me happy.”

“I didn't know you were capable of whining this prettily, Viktor”, you cooed, your head cocked to the side in a playful manner as your thumb swiped over the head of his dick, scooping some of his precum up.

Viktor's cheeks flushed hot with humiliation, though you apparently had no intention of shutting up.

“Really, it seems that everything about you is simply adorable. Especially those noises - maybe I'll suck you off if you moan that nicely for me again. What do you say, hm?”

Viktor watched with wide eyes as you leaned forward and, as if to emphasise your point, blew a puff of warm air against the flushed tip.

Your breath was hot, though most likely not nearly as scalding as your mouth, your tongue, your throat would have been, constricting around his dick as you gagged, tears welling up in your eyes and, god, he stored that fantasy away for lonely nights.

The action had Viktor squirming, his hips thrusting up against nothing, and his mind felt shockingly useless right now; all of his thoughts only revolving around how he craved more, how he just wanted you to touch him, please—

“Alright, alright. This was supposed to be the grand finale, but given how impatient you are, I'll indulge you.”

Viktor moaned in relief as you took pity on him, your pretty pretty lips closing around his dick. His hands grasped at strands of your hair almost instinctively, urging you to take more of him. You did; sinking down his cock perfectly, your throat just as good, just as tight as he had imagined.

One of your hands wrapped around the base of his dick, stroking the part you were unable to take, and while Viktor had never thought much about your size difference before, it now became painfully obvious how small your hand looked when on his cock. You were barely able to fully close it around the girth and, god, that shouldn't have been this hot, but things were slowly spiralling out of Viktor's control — or perhaps they already had been since this whole situation had begun.

“Fuck”, he gasped out, accent heavy, “You're taking me so well, dear. God. 'm so close, please, you're so good.”

His hips bucked up again and again and you took it willingly, not once double tapping his thigh to stop, even though you were gagging and choking, the nails of your free hand digging into his hip.

Everything was white hot pleasure, Viktor's chest heaving with sharp pants as he yanked on your hair — not on purpose, though he certainly didn't miss the way you moaned at the sudden sting in your scalp. That was information filed away for future uses.

Viktor threw his head back, needy noises and throaty groans echoing in the sparsely decorated room he struggled to recognise as his own. “So close—”

He immediately regretted his words a moment later as you pulled away, prying his hands from your hair. You met in a messy kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in impatience, his hands on your hips, urging you closer while touching as much skin of yours as possible, and, fuck, he simply wanted nothing more than to give you a taste of your own medicine, though he feared he himself was too impatient to tease you right now.

“Love, please”, he rasped against your lips, your foreheads touching, “Don't torture me.”

“Oh? And why not, pretty boy? You look so lovely when you're at my mercy.”

You hummed, thoughtful, and a low sound left Viktor — almost akin to a growl or the closest humanly possible thing to one.

“For whatever you're doing, I'll pay you back thrice tomorrow. If you're good to me, I'll be good to you.”

He revelled in the visible tremble his words tore from you.

“And if you're intent on teasing me, well — we both know my patience is far greater than yours, no?”

Your response was an unashamed moan, your own cheeks now flushed, pupils visibly dilated. Viktor was certain he was never going to get enough of how easily he was able to affect you this greatly.

“Well, if you phrase it like that”, you eventually drawled, shrugging a little, “I wanted to take even more time with you, but I guess you're just too convincing. Besides, you're just too handsome right now to resist you for long.”

As you tilted your head up, you pressed your lips against his again; an invitation he took too eagerly, his tongue pushing into your mouth.

Honestly, Viktor expected to reach his orgasm through your hand; your mouth if he was lucky and you were in the mood to suck him off again, which was unlikely but not impossible.

That was why it came as an even bigger surprise as you suddenly sank down on his dick, your cunt dripping wet, the tight warmth feeling so so good around him that he moaned into the kiss, his eyes closed.

“You're so big”, you choked out, making heat curl in Viktor's stomach at the compliment that was voiced more like a complaint, “Fuck, I'll never do this again without you stretching me first. God.”

“Is that so?” Viktor urged, eager—, desperate to hear more of your praise, “I'm filling you so well, am I not?”

And you indulged him with a needy moan, the noise breathless. “Yeah. So big, Viktor, please—, you're so handsome right now. Such a good boy.”

Viktor groaned at your words; his eyes fluttering closed and his head resting against your shoulder as you slowly propped yourself up on your knees, then dropped back down.

Your hands were placed on his back for support and your nails were digging into his skin, surely causing him to bleed at this point, and he wasn't even ashamed that the added pain only added to his arousal.

“Viktor”, you gasped, your voice so beautifully needy, “So good, please, Viktor—”

At this point Viktor had been reduced to desperate whimpers and low groans, his hands on your hips as you ground against him one last time, your thighs shaking.

“Cum for me, darling, come on”, you purred, your voice so close to his ear, breath hot against his neck, and Viktor was unable to do anything but orgasm on command.

He came with a shout, his hips stuttering against yours as irregular waves of pleasure coursed through his body, leaving him utterly breathless; all of his thoughts consumed by you.

One of his hands moved from your hip to your cunt on pure instinct, rubbing your clit with lazy motions until you too were cumming, and you both groaned as you tightened around his dick once more.

Viktor's muscles shook as he slowly pulled out, trying not to pay any mind to the way a trickle of his own cum dripped out of your hole, and managed to manhandle you onto the bed to cuddle close to you in a spooning position.

“Well?” you eventually prompted, your eyes half-lidded and your voice tired, “I hope you're aware of how much I appreciate you now.” A yawn. “If not, we're gonna have to repeat this tomorrow.”

Viktor chuckled, his nose against your neck. “I'd say I understand your view a bit better now, yes. Besides, we don't have time for a repetition of today's events.”

“Oh? And why's that?”

“I did promise to pay you back, did I not?”

“Right”, you said with a chuckle, “I'm excited already. Still, you better know I'm serious about doing this more often if you doubt my love for you ever again.”

Viktor scoffed, the sound oddly soft. “While that's not an effective threat, I understand what you're trying to say.”

“Oh, I think it is. Next time I'll just show your glorious ass how much I love it.”

“Now you're simply being indecent on purpose.”

“Yeah. But I'd do it, so don't doubt me again.”

notes: hello Arcane fandom, please let me in, i offer Viktor content. also, viktor needs to be called pretty boy more often

this was also posted on ao3!

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

Prepared | Ryomen Sukuna/Gojo!Reader (ft. Itadori Yuuji)

Warning(s): nsfw (minors dni), gn!reader (can be amab or afab with a strap), mean!reader, rough sex, anal fingering, finger fucking, degradation, masochism, spanking, scratching, overstimulation, etc.

Notes: nothing but 12am sub Sukuna brainrot while listening to Doja Cat.

Buy me a coffee?

“You know,” Sukuna began, peeking over his shoulder with a smug grin, “for someone who said this was never going to happen, you sure came prepared.” He mocked, back arching sensually to present himself to you.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, annoyed, and glared down at him. “Shut up.” You thrusted a third finger inside his hole, not giving him any time to adjust as you curled your fingers to rub against his prostate. Lube dripped from his entrance, your fingers making a schlick schlick schilck sound every time they sunk into his asshole.

Sukuna’s thighs quivered, his hips rocking back against you. “What would your big brother say?” He asked in between excited pants and moans, “If he saw you fucking the King of Curses?”

“Lucky.” Was all your dry response before your cock suddenly replaced your fingers, slamming into him. A startled shout was ripped from his throat, soon followed by an ecstatic, wordless sound that could only be described as finally. A small streak of precum dribbled onto the floor, and you scoffed. “Whore.”

His body shuddered at the word, “Your whore? Gladly.”

“Shut up,” You repeated, grabbing a fistful of soft pink hair to shove his face into the ground, “or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sukuna shuddered again when your next thrust jabbed against his prostate, clawing uselessly at the ground. “You— ah, you like us too much!”

You said nothing, but your grip on his hips tightened to the point where bruises in the shape of your fingers would paint Yuuji’s skin come morning. You liked his vessel, he knew that for a fact, what with the little puppy eyes you gave each other every moment you were in the same room. He’d first thought you were another annoyance he needed to get rid of, but you were much more than that. You were strong, with the potential to conquer the world— if only your ridiculous morals weren’t in the way.

Sukuna would make you his spouse. You just needed a little nudge.

You dragged him back onto your cock with every thrust of your hips, eyes trained on the bouncing of his vessel’s ass as it clapped against your pelvis. Little drops of lube fell to the ground with every slap slap slap, joined with the steady stream of pearly white precum drooling from the tip of Sukuna’s throbbing erection. The brat was watching, he’d made sure of it, but he was quiet as a mouse. Not that Sukuna wasn’t making enough noise for the two of them, babbling senselessly about how good you were fucking him.

The palm of your hand met his right ass cheek, the soft flesh rippling and growing red under the abuse. Sukuna nearly went cross eyed when you pressed your hips close, grinding in small circles that had his toes curling and his vision blurring. “Is this what you wanted?” You asked, voice rough.

“Yessss,” Sukuna hissed, his own hips rolling to meet your movements. “‘s all we wanted.” He could feel Yuuji’s mortification, but the brat had come into his fist countless times to the thought of being under you like this.

Your nails dug into his skin, and you leaned over him, “Who knew the King of Curses was such a bottom bitch?” You snarled into his ear.

“Mmm,” He purred at your insults, the blush on his face growing to trail down his chest in a full bodied flush. “Just for you.” Sukuna turned his head to nip at your lips, his cock growing harder at the taste of your blood. You hissed at the sting and moved back, shoving his face into the floor again.

The force behind your thrusts doubled, his thighs stinging deliciously whenever they slapped against yours. Sukuna unabashedly moaned your name to the heavens, and you ran your nails down the length of his back. Your own breathing quickened, and the thought that you were also nearing your orgasm made his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on—” Sukuna chanted, pushing back against you. “Please, my treasure— ah, my lovely conqueror…!”

You yanked him back once last time, hips flexing against his ass. Sukuna’s breath hitched audibly, his hole clamping down on your cock as his own let out rope after rope of pearly white cum onto the ground. He mumbled something that vaguely sounded like “s’good” before crumpling in a heap. You curled your fingers around his thick biceps, hips rolling in small, lazy circles to milk him for all he was worth. Your eyes traveled down his sweaty body in hopes to see Yuuji return, but you clicked your tongue in irritation when Sukuna stubbornly remained.

“Get up, slut,” You snapped, forcefully pulling the curse up until his back was flush against your chest, your cock still buried inside him. “I’m not done yet.” You pulled your hips back only to slam back inside, his body bouncing with the force of your thrusts. It was almost like you were trying to fuck him out of his vessle!

Sukuna leaned his head back on your shoulder and rolled his hips, a satisfied smile on his lips despite the tears messily dripping down his face.

Maybe, if Yuuji asked nicely enough, he’d let the brat have a turn with you.

Crazy for You (drabble)

CW: established relationship, smut with no plot, femdom, pegging, degradation, handjob, penetrative sex, humiliation/emasculation, impact play, dacryphilia

Length: 1.4K

A/N: hey you asked for it 😏

“You’re moaning like a little bitch,” you giggle, thrusting your hips forward, “We should do this more often, Rennie.”

He swallows another moan that threatens to slip past his throat. “S-Shut the f-fuck, fuck up, fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, if only to prevent him from seeing anymore of his reflection in the mirror.

Eren feels nothing short of emasculated in a position like this, on his elbows and knees in front of your bedroom mirror. This wasn’t at all what he meant when he asked you earlier, “Wanna have sex in front of the mirror? It’d be hot.” No, he imagined maybe you on his lap, him fingering you nice and slow. Or maybe you cockwarming him as he’d rub circles on that cute sensitive clit of yours. Maybe even tease your nipples a little, and end it the opposite of what was happening right now: you’d be on your hands and knees and he’d be the one plowing into your tight little cunt.

He opens one eye to peak at the mirror as you pull your hips back. He sees himself: flushed, his once sunkissed-skin now red with a mixture of exertion and embarrassment. His hair that was once in a bun hangs onto that hair tie by a thread, locks of hair falling over his face and pooling around his neck, sticking with his sweat. He’s wearing nothing save for the red splotches painted across his skin: a mixture of hickies and the evidence of your palms slapping against his skin. He can see the way his lips are swollen with your bites and kisses. His eyes are hazy, pupils blown with lust, irises that were once green now swallowed by black. He looks just as fucked as he feels. On instinct he feels embarrassed, but his feelings of shame are further and further diluted by bliss with every stroke of your cock into his tight walls.

And you–when his eyes tilt up towards you, he feels a thousand things at once. Part of him is almost mad that he’s so whipped he lets you fuck him like this. He sees your shit-eating grin in the mirror as your hands dig into his sides and your pelvis smacks against his ass. He can see your lips moving and hear the teasing in your voice with every degrading thing you tell him (“Taking my cock so well.” “Moaning like a slut, baby.” “Sounds so pretty for me, princess.”) God, it's as if you’re mocking him by copying the things he says to you when he’s on the giving end. Fuck, he wants to be mad.

But seeing the way you’re slamming into him like this? Something in him, even more so than the part that’s a little mad, he’s so fucking turned on his cock’s throbbing as it bounces against his navel with each thrust. You, his lovely girlfriend that to all others appear so sweet you wouldn’t hurt a fly, you’re fucking ruining him. You’re making him moan and cry so fucking loud he’s sure the neighbors think he’s being murdered. You’re making him so desperate for friction that he starts rocking back into your plastic cock, even when your own hips stop moving.

Even when you giggle, slap his ass, and say, “Desperate whore for my cock, aren’t you Ren?” He still groans desperately and pushes back against your pelvis once more. He doesn’t care, with the way your strap is brushing so good against his prostate, he doesn’t fucking care.

He’s babbling something under his breath, his head hanging low because he really can’t bare to watch the way he’s fucking himself on your strap. He’s practically sobbing, tears prick his waterline, but you’re not having it. If he wants to cum, he has to watch.

You reach down his back and pull on his hair, pull it enough so that he’s forced to look into the mirror. You slam your hips forward and a choked out cry leaves his lips.

“Look at you,” you coo as you pull back and slam forward again. He can barely keep his eyes open. His vision’s blurry with tears, and his jaws sticky with drool. “Such a good boy, hm? Fucking yourself on my cock, you like that don’t you?”

He can only utter a weak mhm.

You let go of his hair and his head falls weakly, his gaze back down to the floor. You slap his ass again, “Who said you could stop?”

“God, fuck,” he groans as he pushes back onto you again. His cock actually hurts and he almost has half a mind to touch it himself. “Baby, please–”

You already know what he wants, with the way his back’s arching and he’s desperately humping your strap. The sight makes your cunt burn with need.

“Wanna cum, ‘Ren?”

“Please,” he whines, “please let me, fuck–I need to cum, please.”

You reach around him and wrap your hand around the base of his cock. His whole body flinches on contact. “Fuck–oh, fuck,” He mutters as you bring your hand higher and higher. He’s not expecting just how fucking sensitive he would be when you graze over his slit, and he actually wails. It’s way too much, the way you’re still moving your hips up into him and simultaneously teasing his cock. “I can’t–I’m gonna cum–”

“Go ahead, cum,” you tell him as you bring your fist up and down his length. It barely takes any effort at all, a couple strokes while your pelvis is flush against his ass and he’s cumming into the palm of your hand. He watches your movements in the mirror, his whole body shuddering with his orgasm. As he attempts to stifle a sob (to no avail), his head hangs low and he coats the floor, your hand, and his thighs all in his thick cum. It’s so much that he’s cumming, rope after rope till he whines when he’s empty.

His eyes tilt up towards the mirror again as he heaves and you pull out. He’s an absolute mess, and he can barely even hold himself up. You tap his ass with your hand after you remove the strap and he blinks, as if brought back to the real world again.

“You okay Ren?” You ask him.

He nods weakly and shuffles around until he’s laying flat on the floor. He brings his forearm over his eyes, a lame attempt at covering his reddening face.

“Fuck you,” he finally sighs, though you know he doesn’t mean it. You laugh and a grin tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Is that an offer?” You ask, partly as a joke, but honestly your cunt is throbbing right now. He sees the way your eyes dart towards his half-hard cock resting against his stomach. You brush your hand over it, and it twitches in response, stiffening against your touch.

“Yeah, okay.”

You stroke his cock to hardness. With your cunt as soaked as it already is, you easily sink down on his length. You turn your head to the side, and you can see in the mirror the both of you: you, as you bounce on his lap, and him, still dazed but looking up at you with eyes full of affection. Even a lazy smile paints his lips as you start to release those pretty little moans you kept locked away the whole time you fucked him. But he can’t do much else than just watch, his ass too sore and his mind too faded. The only thing his mind can register is that you’re squeezing around him and it feels good. Soft little groans, nothing near as whiny and desperate as before, come from him with each bounce on his dick.

When you do finally cum around him, you moan his name and it comes as music to his ears. His hands come to your hips and he loosely holds you as you grind out the remainder of your orgasm, using him as you please. When you’re done, you don’t get off him, but only lay down until your chest is pressed to his. You both face the mirror and Eren brings his hand up to pat over your hair, hot and sweaty after all the effort you put into sex that night.

“God baby,” he looks at you in the mirror, “I love you so fucking much, but god you’re insane.”

"Only for you, Eren."

sorry - l.mh

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub minho, dom reader, brat-taming, edging, handjob, oral (reader receiving), use of a fleshlight, degradation, name-calling, slight humiliation, female reader, minho is annoying

word count: 4.9k

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Corrupt File !

genre: smut, college au

pairing: programmer! beomgyu x gn reader (afab when it comes to smut)

warnings: nsfw, sub virgin nerd! beomgyu, dom! reader, corruption kink, mentions of p0rn, handjob, riding

word count: 1.8k

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Do you have a masterlist?

I honestly have zero idea how to do that 🥲 but once i figure it out I will be sure to make one! 😊