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screampied · 10 months ago

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Hitting it raw for the first time with JJK men?

‘ DON’T BE SHY, HIT IT RAW ! ★

starring ꒱ gojo, sukuna, toji, choso, nanami !?

@ WARNINGS : fem! reader, unprotected, brēeding kink, size kink, praise, manhandling, mating press, dōggystyle, prone bone, hair pulling, degradation, spit, biting, pússy drunk men, 18+

CHOSO ✰ KAMO.

“r…raw?” he inhales, staring at you with a cute quivering lip. you looked so pretty underneath him, sprawled all out and gazing right back into his eyes. you’d just got done playing with yourself in front of him, showing him just how easy it was to make you wet.

truthfully, choso’s had little to no experience— he gulps, wrapping a broad hand around his length before moving it towards your slick entrance. “like without the little rubber thing?”

you giggle, watching as his sculpted abs tense all up. he feels so hot, burning up. the entirety of his body shudders with a scorching breeze that runs against his skin.

“yes, baby. ‘s okay. i want you to,” and oh your voice, he could have came from just the sound of your sweet voice alone. doughy soft tips of his fingers brush against the skin that sticks against his dick like glue, a few simple strokes and he whines. “get a little closer, you remember missionary, right?”

“yeah,” he intakes a hollowing breath. by now, he’s hovering on top of you with his leaky tip fluttering against your sloppy slit. you merely slip off a moan yourself, syrupy liquid coating against his cockhead with such ease. “the position where i hold your hand ‘n stare into your eyes?” as you nod, he moans once he feels the way your dripping cunt starts to gradually devour the head of his dick in such a indecent way. “o-ohhh, okay.”

biting his lip, he starts to slowly sink his way in.

choso’s breath hitches from being engulfed with your sweet warmth. “y-you’re so warm inside,” he stammers, throwing his head back in utmost pleasure. choso’s so cute—a chastened grin purses against his lips, just a few solid inches in and he was already pussydrunk. “princess, ‘m not gonna last,” he furrows his brows, grabbing one of your hands, squeezing it tightly. “not gonna last when you’re s-so wet, i- i feel hot, oh.”

“don’t say that,” you tease, rubbing your ankle against his back. any kinds of touch from you made his heart race.

choso was firmly still—he’s been intimate with you plenty of times but never raw. this was an entire new feeling, he could just feel the lewd texture of your gummy walls grip around him securely. “you’re doing great, baby. just fuck me, like you always do.”

“i can fuck you, i … i can fuck you,” he’s chanting to himself cutely, trembling on each individual word.

a barrier, as he’s going inside raw— it feels like a barrier that’s shoved directly between your pussy and his cock. as choso’s hooded eyes start to get heavy, it doesn’t take long for him to start up a vicious pace.

languidly,

he feels the intensity of it all. the searing friction being created against both mounds. choso’s thrusts became more rapid by the second and your mouth pries open ever so slightly..

“oh m-my,” he hiccups, his grip between your fingers getting tighter. he loves holding your hand, especially whenever you were underneath him. choso’s voice was so adorable— every few seconds it croaks or cracks, it feels so tactile. the touch, the way your cunt takes every inch of him, he’s so big that the stretch was simply immaculate. choso presses his body against your chest, he’s leaning before he gently sinks his canines into your neck. “gonna c-cum already, hold me baby,” and then he swallows, a short gasp following out of his glossed-spit lips. “i… i mean, can i cum inside? never stuffed you full before.”

“go ‘head, baby,” you whisper, and he cutely whines once you run a soft finger down his brief undercut. whenever you called him baby, he could feel himself melting right into you—you feel choso move his glossed lips towards you, pulling you into a deep, sensual kiss. it was passionate, warm breaths violently crashing into each other at such a quick pace that he feels the strain rise up in his lungs.

your pretty cunt’s holding him hostage— choso’s slowly thrusting into you before right when he’s about to cum, he’s whimpering into your mouth. “it’s okay, ‘cho. it’s okay, you can do it,” and you cup his face, watching his darkened eyebrows furrow. his face softens at your sweet reassurance before he feels the incoming wave brew up within him. “you wanna be my messy boy, huh?”

he shamelessly nods. “so b-bad,” and his words were trembling upon each syllable. once he shoots into you, dumping you with a sweltering hot load of cum, his mind goes blank. you’ve never felt more stuffed—so packed up. his dick now flaccid—choso whines into your neck. the mucilaginous strings of cum that spurt into you was so filthy. squelches that reverberated against your cunt, just the quiet sound of it makes his mouth salivate.

he wants more, he wants you.

“feels so good,” he pants, lying on top of your chest— he grows quiet, hearing the sloshes of your cunt get stuffed with more parching ropes and ropes of cum. it feels tenderly, it shoots deep into your womb and your arms throw around his shoulders. choso’s sweating profusely, he feels like each pant that leaves his lips was gonna be his last. you smile, kissing the bridge of his nose where he scar lays before he slowly pulls out. gluey strings of cum depart from your hole and he can’t help but run a thumb against it. “i— oh my god,” he sniffles, and his voice was a bit more pitched. “are— are you okay? did i do okay?”

you kiss the side of his mouth and he moans, staring as your tummy was all swollen after being filled to it’s very peak. “i’m okay, you did amazing baby,” and he snuggles up against you. his head hitting against your chest, his personal favorite pillow. with a relaxing sigh, you strum your fingers through his ponytails before speaking in a soft voice, giving him a head pat. “always such a good boy for me, choso.”

“thank you,” he snivels, and you don’t expect for him to get back up again. his eyes—they’re more feral now, beads of sweat running down his brow before he pouts. “not done though. can- can we fuck raw again? pretty please, ‘m not done being messy for you.”

NANAMI ✰ KENTO.

“take it off, ‘kennnn,” you mewl out a desperate whine, pawing clammy hands at your husband’s halfway exposed chest.

he had barely just made it back from work, needing someway to rewind from his usual respective nine-to-five and you offered. an offer that was located nowhere other than between your legs, though he never complained. your cunt was easily the best way to unwind from a long day. with his work clothes still on, pants halfway down, drooping toward his knees, he hums.

you had him amused, his boxers were halfway down—cock sprung out and he swallows, stroking the rubbery condom that’s sheathing over his erect length. “wanna feel you from the inside, please.”

he gruffly chuckles, body jolting briefly in response he laughs. whilst he had you promptly sat on his lap, you were so close up to him— his heat purely radiates against yours, making the feelings of his touch ten times more sensitive. “you’re in a playful mood today, huh. no condom, my love? and why is it that you want to ‘feel me from the inside’, hmm?”

with exasperated breaths, you’re just so close to him stuffing you full. your soaking entrance rubs against his tip—so leaky, your mouth merely starts to water at just envisioning him flooding your pussy up with so much of his ropy cum. “i jus’ wan’ it,” you whine, and he titters once you take measures into your own hands—tugging the loosely fit rubber before his cock was finally out in the open. “wanna be your cum dump, kento.”

“cum … dump?” he repeats, scratching the basal part of his pointed chin. nanami smirks, a big hand giving your ass a gentle yet firm squeeze. he’s so tender, caressing the sides of your rear before giving it a brief spank. nanami was always sweet, you liked whenever he’d take a little more control at times. “that really what you want? to be my ah, cum dump?”

you tell him yes and that’s all he really needs to hear from you.

you’re scrupulously rocking your hips against nanami, sucking your teeth at the hot feeling pooling inside of you. the grip, oh the grip—you feel dizzy, without the condom felt like a whole new world. nanami groans, leaning back against the headboard whilst he’s letting you ride, take the wheel on his lap if you will. “mhm. loosen up for me, love,” he’d grunt, blond strands of his running down the sides of his face. it’s cute, the way his usual perfect hair was now all ruffled and feral. “fuck me jus’ like that, ride me good, okay?”

moan after moan drags past your lips, flimsy arms throw around his stiff shoulders before the stretch had you gasp. the stretch—so elastic.

his cock vigorously pummels in and out with such girth making your cunt profusely spasm.

facing directly in front of him, you probably looked a mess—abashed facial expressions tugging against your features, mouth dangled all open, you were a sight. yet, you didn’t care—you cared about being filled to the brim. you craved it like you crave a succulent pastry. as your hips rotate and rock in collision, he’s got both hands on your waist, slamming you down further and further. you’re whining, feeling the tip of his dick reach deep—each time it delves into you, it smothers your g-spot with various french-tip kisses. your eyes roll back, feeling his honey-dew eyes take in your pretty jerking hips every and single second. “oh, look at that face right when she’s gettin’ ready to make a mess,” and his voice was a deep whisper, he brings you towards his neck, chuckling once you sniff him. “feel it too, darlin’? wanna be my good little wife ‘n finish with me, hm?”

“y—yes, please ‘ken, hngh,” you whine, feeling the sharp edges of your teeth shatter against each other. his thick cock punctures something deep within your walls, causing you to spasm all over him. “wanna cum with you, please pleaseee.”

he sneaks a kiss against your lips, it’s wet and it’s got you hungry for more. nanami never fails to coat you with a few of his tenderized kisses. it his thing, soft padded lips that press against your skin always had you weak in the knees. speaking of knees, your own knees start to buckle as you’re rotating your hips against his. “messy girl, go ‘head then. i wanna see just how messy my pretty baby can get.”

nanami’s voice was so soothing, all up against your ear. alluring pheromones surge all through you as you’re taking every inch of his cock. every few seconds your stomach seizes, a repetitive motion that has your toes curling up in utter temptation. “cum, ‘m gonna cum ‘ken, cumming, nghh.” the positioning couldn’t have been more perfect. rough hands of his squash against your derrière before your breath literally gets snatched away. with your jaw dropping, you tense up, convulsing with his twitching dick inside of you. compressing against his length, you clench down on your maw before whining out a sweetened sob. “inside, shoot inside ‘ken. don’t miss.”

“i’ll never miss if it’s with you, sweetheart,” he whispers— the gravel in his voice turning a bit shaky.

fat full balls of potential seed thwack and thwack against your skin, with the ricochet of skin slapping, it rings throughout your ears—having your mind going stupid.

with a grunt, he clings onto your swiveling torso tightly, a hefty arm wrapping around you. so close, he’s so deep inside that the tip of his cockhead reaches the most secretive depths stored inside your cunt. “mhm. ‘s gonna get a little messy, hold onto me, my sweet.”

GOJO ✰ SATORU.

gojo’s got a sheepish simper, having you bent over for him in such a way has his heart pounding. he heard the individual beats pulse through his ears before he inhales. “raw.. raw as in you want the real thing? heh, can ya even handle me raw?”

“shut up,” you whine, your ass wriggling in response against his length—he was just as aroused as you, he gives your ass a long stare before huffing out a breath. “jus’ fuck me, ‘toru.”

“well excuseee me,” he replies back, aligning himself against your saturated folds. so pretty, the way your pussy was even warmer from the inside, so moist. he feels his breath start to shake before he thrashes his tip against your outer entrance. “ooh, s-so much tighter than i thought.” and he grows quiet once your pussy starts to accept him inside. slowly, you’re swallowing every inch that he provides—gojo moans, the tight clamp that your gummy walls give him merely makes him fold. the sensation was almost too much to bare. pap pap pap, the sounds your cunt make in retaliation only made him more feral.

gojo’s panting, your cunt’s got him in a tight grasping chokehold that he knows he can’t get out of— it’s simply spontaneous.

“fuck, you’re so h-hot,” he sighs, you let off a soft mewl, feeling him bring a palm towards your right ass cheek to spank it, gripping it toughly and you bite your lip. even though you couldn’t directly see his expression—you just imagined gojo would be as pretty as he’s always been. messy, ruffled hair, panting, muscles tightening and flexing. even that thing he does whenever he’s bottoming out inside of you. where his eyebrows furrow all up and his face becomes utterly flustered.

so cute.

after a few sloppy hits against your heat, it doesn’t take much to make him into a pure, whiney mess. he’s just babbling whilst you’re on all fours for him, so tense—his muscles ache for more of you. gojo starts to feel the tip of his tongue salivate with little droplets of his own syrupy saliva. oh, it was just the way your pussy effortlessly wraps around him like a vice. he grunts in a hoarse tone, witnessing how your hips just ferociously grind and hit back against him so good to where his head’s spinning.

as he accelerates his hips, gojo’s so needy—he can’t help but grab your waist with calloused fingers, driving his fat cock into you at a more swift speed. he’s so big, so fucking big. filling you full of girthy inches each time, you’re moaning repeatedly, feeling how his hips start to stutter and his thighs ache already. he’s close.

the more he pants, the more raspy it becomes. gojo’s thumbs were practically piercing into both sides of your hips—indenting in them as he’s allowing the cockhead of his shaft to freely rummage all throughout your gripping walls. the feeling of being inside of you, raw, he found himself drooling. something about the way you clamp down against his base each time, feeling the slimy strings of pre-cum stick against your ass and his base each time you smack back onto him.

“f-fuuuck, ‘toru. right there, hngh. right there, fuck fuck.” you hiccup, and he’s feeling his breath start to hitch in due time. with his hands still grabbing onto your waist as he’s pounding you ruthlessly from behind, you moan. “ughhh, ‘toru, ‘m gonna cum. fuck don’t stop, please.” and as you speak to him in that sweet tone, he only gets harder. cerulean blue eyes of his stare down your back— your breathtaking spine, the way it had a few drops of excess sweat gliding down. he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why but that simple detail as he was drilling such amounts of dick into you—he found it adorable. “touch me more.” you whine, a sudden pitch in your tone. “slow, f-fuck me slower baby.”

“i- i amm,” he whimpers, his voice growing shorter and shorter. it was just something about fucking you from behind. it gave him a perfect excuse to stare at your ass, kiss it with the palm of his hand with rude mean spanks, getting hard from the recoil. speaking of hard though, gojo was quite hard, painfully so—you feel his hips snap into you at such a pace that it’s like he’s not human. each thrust, each deeper angle he creates with his hips has you going stupid. with how loud he’s whimpering—you can’t tell who’s louder, him or you. “fuck, ‘m really gonna cum inside, angel. oh fuck, ‘s the way you squeeze on me s-so good, don’t stop fuckin’ me back, please.”

he turns into a babbling mess, the stretch of his cock buries so deep into you—constricting freely around his length, he then lightly shoves your head against the pillow. “s-sorry, angel,” he swallows, tracing his fingertips against the edges of your ass. “ah, ‘m gonna have to give you all of me. ‘s gonna spill out but you’ll be a good girl ‘n keep it in for me, yeah?”

“yes, yes yess,” you whimper, and he then grabs onto your hair for leverage—he’s pumping you full of thick inches of dick, you stare at yourself in the reflection of a mirror and gojo still looks pretty. his pace was brutal, you could barely keep up and your legs felt like they were hanging onto the final hinges. “inside, ‘toru. don’t spill a d-drop.”

“take it then, t-take it for me,” he moans, and each time he hits against your ass with his own hips, you feel the swollenness of his balls brush up against your pussy. total breeder balls, you whine before it takes him a moment to finally cascade such stripes of cum right into your womb. “listen to that, f-fuck, sloppy pussy’s jus’ my favorite,” he pants, heaving out a single strained breath. gojo’s hips precipitously stop, and he’s just feeling himself spew such ropes—so warm, it’s sticky too. you feel the texture spurt into your cunt, giving you more than enough. with a hand still gripping onto your hair, he then brings a hand to gently wrap around your throat. “mhm, baby. we should— we should start thinkin’ of baby names by this point heh.”

you moan, feeling him slowly pull out— once he does, leftovers of his cum that plugged you full starts to seep out of your hole. he licks his lips, inserting a thumb inside before spreading your folds open up. “don’t stop, ‘toru. want more,” you sigh, arching your back up again for him. “give me twins.”

“fuck i’ll give you triplets,” he grunts, re-aligning his throbbing tip—he inhales deeply, still feeling sensitive before it swipes against your messy painted up entrance. as he’s close up to your ass, he runs a hand down your spine before getting up close to your ear. in a low, husky whisper, he replies. “keep up with me, angel. ‘m gonna be showin’ this pussy the new me all n-night.”

SUKUNA ✰ RYŌMEN.

“careful now, woman,” sukuna hisses, and he’s got you in a secure mating press—you moan, feeling his tip skim against your sopping pussy. his tone was a mere warning, red-shot eyes of a curse—in which he was, stares right into you as he holds back. “askin’ me to do somethin’ like that ‘s gonna end up with ya pregnant.”

with a pout, you sling your arms around him, smelling his intoxicating scent roam through your flared up nostrils. “don’t care,” you chastise, and he’s such a tease. grabbing ahold of his fat length, brushing his angry leaning cockhead against your entrance. he snickers against your neck, hot breath fanning against your collarbone. “finish in me, ‘kuna. wanna feel it s’bad,” and you didn’t even care how pathetic you sounded. desperate was the perfect word for you. it was always a dream to have the king of curses feed your sweet forlorn cunt with such delicious ropes of cum. you’ve only ever tasted his flavor, never exactly feeling it shoot inside,

such amounts of his sticky, stringy ropes pour into your womb—you craved it, you could care less of the consequences that would follow. as a single throb from the inside of your clit pulses you back to reality, you feel sukuna’s fangs teasingly bite into your neck. “m-mmph,” he suppresses his moans, an almost whimper being dragged out of his throat. your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, feeling his cock start to introduce its way into your welcoming, greedy walls. your moan rings through his ears, he’s so thick that you feel the head of his cock mold your cunt open, it’s so warm. so tight, a twinge within the undersides of your thighs sting for a moment before you start to succumb into the inevitable pleasure.

“ah ah, don’t shy away now,” he rasps—voice sounding almost hoarse like. once he makes haste with his hips, slam after slam against you, he grips your chin. with hollow cheeks scrunched all up, he sneaks a wet kiss onto your mouth, watching you moan for more affection—more of his sweetly sacred taste. “want me to go in raw?you better stare into my fuckin’ eyes while i claim this meaningless cunt,” and he’s so mean, his entire delivery has you pulsating. the curse’s eyes stare down your body before he starts to present you with jagged, thorough thrusts. with a hand still attached to you chin, he lowly cackles a “heheh,” leaning in to kiss you again. “needy baby. can’t go a second without a kiss,” and in the meanwhile, he’s viciously pounding into your wretched insides. an entire mess, it doesn’t take sukuna long for him to bottom out completely inside of you. “stick out that tongue.”

you’re too dumb to even comprehend anything. just the rhythm of his cock has you in shambles. it’s too good, you comply quickly before lolling out your pretty pink tongue. “such an obedient woman, look at that sloppy tongue, desperate for more of my taste,” he slyly says, and that’s when he leans forward to suck near the pointed tip of your tongue. you’re caught by surprise, expecting him to do something more erotic and filthy such as spitting on your tongue but he just … sucks on it. “always taste sweet for me.”

each time he smacks into you at full force, your ears pop. slow yet steady, this time he nibbles on your tongue—the inner edges of his fangs tickle before he wraps a hand around your throat. “fuck. gonna milk me,” and then he lightly taps against your cheek with his other hand. “is the dumb baby still with me? look at me, girl,” and with hooded eyes, you meet the curse’s gazed his hips were sharp, unlike anything you’ve ever felt. it’s tantalizingly slow, each time he pulls out he purposely shoves himself back in—causing your mewls to only pitch louder. “that’s it. scream. let everyone ‘n this palace know how much of a nasty girl you are for me. louder.”

your whines grow louder, with your ankles rubbing against his back you start to feel his pace come to a slow halt. “k-kuna,” you whimper, his tip smooching against your most sweetest spots again, and again, and again. he feels how warm you are from the inside. the grip was so lewd, his jaw tightens as his weight slams into you countless times until you’re in a looping trance. “inside, finish inside pleasepleaseplease.”

“kiss me first,” he snarls, and almost immediately do you pull him into a sloppy kiss. with breaths heaving, tongue’s tangling, you whine into his mouth as he’s stuffing your cunt full of staggering lengthy inches. he’s so deep that your stomach briefly caves in, the sharp tips of his fingernails tickle against your skin before his thrusts grow deeper. moaning into his mouth, your legs still wrap around his waist before within three more solid pumps, he cums.

sukuna groans into your mouth, hot breath pouring into your mouth as he swipes a tongue against your bottom lip—biting it afterwards. it shoots out so quick, lightening speed. he’s shaking, and since he’s a curse—it’s so much more that he gives you. a plethora of satiny ropes, it trickles into your womb to where it starts leaking out of your sweet hole once he pulls his cock out. “how nasty,” he phews, beefy muscles flexing as his arms stood near the sides of you. despite him heaving in and out, he doesn’t even look remotely tired—instead, sukuna gives you another kiss before you watch as he starts to flip you over. “not done. ‘m gonna have to clean it out of you with my tongue,” he growls, making you chest hit against the plump cushioney pillows. “bend over, princess. let me get a better taste from this angle.”

TOJI ✰ FUSHIGURO.

“yeah yeah, i got you,” he grumbles, cutting off your sentence before arching you all the way over. you gasp at how blunt he is, giving your ass a spank before dragging a fat thumb down your pre soaked cunt. “didn’t plan on wearin’ that shit anyway. they never fuckin’ fit, doll. thanks for the concern though, heh. i’ll be extra careful, promise.”

with toji’s size, condoms would break easily.

if they didn’t break, they were on the very verges of shattering into a zillion pieces. with two riotous hands, he spreads your ass before smacking his fat tip between your folds. “f-fuuuck me already,” you whine out, feeling the naturally provocative arch in your back only stretch further. even his tip, his angry pinkish tip that never fails to split the insides of your pussy open with just a few thrusts, he’s such a tease. chewing on your lip as if it was a substitute for gum, you moan once he leans his face down to slowly spit near your cracking entrance between the crevices of your rear. you shudder, feeling the coldness of his saliva run down your slick, smearing calloused fingertips beneath your dampening folds. “y-you’re so nasty, toji.”

“girl i’ve been called worst but okay,” he gruffs, swiping a tongue against the scar near his lips. despite how you weren’t even facing him, you could just tell he gave you the most sassiest eye roll imaginable. as you’re on all fours, he makes the right side of your cheek hit against the cushioned comforter. “ya sure you wan’ me ‘ta go in raw? ‘m all for it but this ain’t y’er pussy talkin’ instead of that little brain of yours, is it?”

you nod, desperate for him to resume—and he does, but once toji fucks, he fucks mean.

toji fucks like he hates you—of course he doesn’t, but with hips of his, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

just seconds of taking backshots from him and you’re already drooling, the back in your arch couldn’t have been any more slutty. “fuck,” he groans, feeling his dick stretch—extending throughout the gummy areas of your pussy. he reached everywhere, you’re clinging onto the bed before you cutely make an attempt to crawl forward. “oh. where d’ya think y’er goin’?” he groans, giving your ass a spank. you gasp, feeling him drill his thick cock into you so precisely as if his occupation was a construction worker. the only thing he was hammering was your cunt though. with a hand snaking its way into your hair, he gives it a firm tug to make your ass plop back against him. “nah get the fuck back here. no runnin’ today baby. still got a lot more ‘ta give.”

he’s so stuffed into you that you feel your cunt gape around him, your jaw idly dangles open as he’s got your hair in a tight grip. “f-fuuuck, ‘s so big. stretchin’ me, toji, hngh,” and your sweet moans were melodic—simply music to his ears. you felt the pulse from his cock that was buried into you—fat swollen balls of his contour to kiss up against your bare ass, the sounds so loud it sounds like smacks. “a-ah ah ah,” you’d repeat, barely able to keep up with his relentless pace. “gonna cum, ‘toj. gonna c-cum, oh my goddd.”

“oh my goddd, i’m gonna cum too,” he mimics your whine—and by now, his entire body is pushed up against your ass. with a sly piston of his hips, he’s got you right where he wants you. toji chuckles against your ear, choking you with just a tiny amount of pressure before he hums. “you like bein’ fucked raw, don’t’cha? you feel me deep ‘n y’er womb, gorgeous?”

you nod again, your cunt just continues to mend and form around his length sloppily. heavy breaths tear out of your filled up lungs before he bends you way back against the bed. “y-yes, please. cum in me toji, want you to shoot in me, f-fuck please.”

he’s got a firm grip on your hair, yanking it back as he’s jackhammering his thick cock — you feel the jagged edges around him piercing through your insides and he’s just so fucking big.

you whine, sloshes of your own honeyed slick coating toji so well from the very base down. a pretty white ring, “yeah, c’mon. cum with me babygirl, cum on this dick,” and he growls darkly, the incoming build up coursing through his veins. a raw hoarse emits from the back of your throat before you’re cumming. it takes so much out of you, his tip ruthlessly mashing against your g-spot so good. your eyes are ogling, drool seeping from the corners of your lips before he ends up finishing too. never inside, but now—he’s shot a thick load into you raw. it was simply appetizing, toji slows his jerking hips down and he grows quiet. he’s pouring into your cunt with strings of hot balmy cum. with how quickly it is to fill you up, you feel how it just stuffs you to the brim.

that same white translucent ring coats around his fat base and a rough hand of his grips onto your waist. “take it all, fuck,” and you continue to clamp around his dick. it’s so much that it starts to ooze out of your folds, velvety pretty ropes of cum paint the crevices of your thighs—running down your folds and it’s got you so dizzy. his balls that plugged you full remain inside of your sopping cunt, slowing his thrusts down completely before momentarily taking his dick out. “got myself a nasty little bitch, milkin’ me like that,” he gruffs out, smearing a thumb down your now swollen clit. you’re panting, feeling a throbbing sensation pool into your abdomen before he flips you over. “where’s my thank you, doll?”

“t-thank you, toji,” you mewl out, feeling him position himself between your legs now—you’re laid on your back, gasping for air before he cups your chin. with dark coy eyes, he rubs a thumb against your lip. “thank you for finishing in me.”

“y’er welcome, sugar,” he groans, realigning himself against your saturated folds—so soaked, there were still many remnants of hot stringy semen that stuck against your entrance. he pauses, feeling your legs lock around his slim waist before he pauses. with a husky voice, toji plants a single kiss against your lips. “heh. ya are on the pill though, right?”

“…….”

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coweye · 7 months ago

Text

The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men. Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.” Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since.

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

“I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?” Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.” Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together. “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda.

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss. His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply. Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core. “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you. If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes. Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well. Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone! Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”

#deadpool #wolverine deadpool #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #james howlett x reader #worst logan #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #wolverine x you #graphics by saradika

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b0mblover · 10 months ago

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Hate, in Every Sense of the Word.

By: J

major tws for; suicide mention, domestic abuse, abuse, sexual assult mention, murder mention, (really just alot of violence tbh) self harm mention

uh, sorry? that theres so many tws, ig also minor tw for mention of sex too.

uh haha i uh, can you tell what happened tonight? it wasnt even the worst one, just, im tired of it.

talk abt living out of spite bc mannnn, thats all i been going off of for a good while now!

i uh, i really wanna make a certain food bc um. (LOOK I WANNA MAKW A LESS OILY FUCKER OKAY) but my father is awake meaning my mother will be too soon but im scared to even go out of my room bc theyre prob gonna fighttt.

hhhrbd okok ill shut up for now, go ahead and read the angry jirou bullshit ig 😭

(oh yea, if it wasn’t obvious. im talking about my mother in this.)

——————————

yknow,

you havent been a great person

or a good one even.

yet you still question as to why i dont love you

or like you,

maybe you have an idea of how much i hate you.

maybe not

i dont really care about your feelings.

at all.

not now.

i put up with this for fucking 14 years.

my entire fucking life.

ive put up with your shit.

but now?

now im done.

you have no idea how badly you fucked up.

when he said that “im sorry im a fuck up”

yknow.

he mightve not been right for what he did.

but,

it was just a mistake.

it was a goddamn mistake.

you have any idea how many times ive uttered those words too?

how many times ive repeated them?

how many times i fucking meant it?

just because you “had it bad” doesnt mean shit to me.

you have no goddamn right to treat others the same way.

dont give me that “i dont know how else to act!”

bullshit.

bullshit you dont.

you treated your damn boyfriend just fine!

you had a goddamn kid

you had two goddamn children.

with this man that you fucking DESPISE.

you knew it back then too.

you told me you did.

you fucking told me.

almost nothing can compare to the anger i feel to you right now.

nothing.

you have no right to act like that.

no.

you have no goddamn right to hit another fucking living being.

for such a simple mistake.

i dont care if he talked about it since friday.

i dont give a fuck if he talked about it for months.

you.

you as a goddamn human.

have no right.

none.

in the slighest.

to hit another living being.

for talking about something in your eyes “too much”

or making a mistake.

youre a hypocrite.

need i remind you?

you said that after you broke up with the man you were having an affair with.

that youd be a better person.

stop the fights.

stop the beatings.

stop all of it.

and everything would be okay!

i didn’t believe you for a goddamn millisecond.

youre a liar.

just how you said i was.

you didnt quit.

you didnt stop.

hell two months after you hit him again!

you threatened to kill him and yourself!

cmon.

dont you get it yet?

i fucking despise you.

maybe to a degree i feel shocked.

but.

i really dont think thats it.

youre the root of my problems.

every single last fucking one.

——————

need i remind you as how i had to learn to cook, because you were too busy with your damn boyfriend to help me?

need i remind you how when i tried to show you that i was fucking cutting myself when i was 9 you only talked about how it looked ugly?

need i remind you about how many times you said that you didnt care if i hurt myself as long as no one can see it?

need i remind you about how you ignored the rope burn on my neck god knows how many times?

need i remind you how you denied fucking multiple peoples sexual assault because “it couldntve been like that”?

need i remind you of how many times i almost had to be hospitalized because of your neglect?

need i remind you of how many nights i spent alone, in the cold, in the dead of winter, just because you wanted to fuck your boyfriend?

need i remind you of what you yelled at me so many times?

need i remind you of what i seen?

need i remind you of how many times you blamed your abusive behaviors on medication?

need i fucking remind you of my entire purpose?

i dont care about your feelings anymore.

i gave up years ago.

but now.

i dont feel just numb for you.

i hate you.

in every sense of the word.

i dont care of what you or anyone else thinks of me.

i dont care about what you think of my appearance.

i dont care if you think im too thin or fat or whatever word youll use next.

i dont care about what you think because you’ll hate me no matter what.

you thought id stop being xxxx when you broke up with him.

you yelled at me.

no.

you fucking screamed at me for weeks.

im tired of even putting in the slighest effort of acting as if i fucking care.

i dont give a fuck about you.

and yknow?

if.

no.

if it would work.

if it was possible.

id fucking kill you.

id stab you.

right here.

right now.

to end my suffering.

to end his suffering.

all of it.

id end it all.

i dont care if its wrong.

because i know no one else knows about whats going on.

yknow.

only one person around here knows what youve done to him and me.

and i havent even met her in person.

yknow.

the people i used to be close with from school.

only just learned you had an affair.

i know that.

the police are do-less.

since you know them.

and hes a man.

not a woman.

it wouldnt be taken seriously.

that he should just fight back.

yknow.

youve ruined what life he has left.

his parents beat him.

his ex wife beat him, and cheated on him.

and here.

youve done the exact same thing.

yknow.

he’ll never get to see how love truely is.

because of you.

because of what youve done.

i cant say i really like him either.

but.

that doesnt give you the right to ruin his life.

yknow whats worse?

how i know the only reason that so far youve never dared to lay a finger on me.

is because ive proved that i won’t hesitate to beat the fuck out of you right back.

i know i joke about that night.

but.

really.

hitting you for doing that was the best decision i couldve made.

its kept me safer than i wouldve been for years.

and even now.

if you were to as so much to touch me.

while in a fight.

id do it all over again.

you maybe 100 pounds heavier than me.

but you dont know how to fight against someone who wont just sit there and take it.

i wont forgive you for what youve done.

even if he will.

i want nothing to do with you.

get out of my life for good.

#j writes badly #woohoo i just love living in a very fucked up house its soo great /sarcasm #ughnf whats worse is that if it werent for my parents rn my life would be quiet literally perfect.#holy shit the being pissed at my mother instead of destroying my arm thing is actually working irl holy shit #(actually shoked abt that tbh)#unironically i wanna make a less oily fuck rn. like so badly. bc my parents went to the store and got eggs so i can #oh yea for the new gen folk that dont know all of the j lore (this has been bothering me bc its coming up on the anniversary)#i know how to break someones fingers and make it look like an accident!#turns out theres a specific way thats more common in abuse versus accidents!#dont ask why i know this 🙂 (or do- it reallt doesnt bother me) (also not that i would- /gen)#this is basically me catching everyone up through j lore im not even kidding tbh #and yes. i have hit my mother before bc she wouldnt stop “playing” as i had hot ramen in my hands!#(look. it wasnt the best move at the time but uh. really saved me in the long run unironically!)#THERES FUCKING GEESE FLYING OVER MY HOUSE RN HOLY SHIT #sorry. uh. i cant help it tho. i heard them and it was cute #oh yea even MORE j lore; i have a mildly unhealthy obsession with “being stronger” because im consitently (and rightfully)#paranoid that my mother is gonna try and hit me!#when the whole 2020 chrismas thing (when i hit her) happened i had just got done wih archery so i was still pretty strong #but then eating disorder happened and i quit archery. muscle atrophy etc etc #so like. its a big ass thing i think abt every day now!#yea theres a real reason why i consider my friends as “safe” 💀#heheheheeeeee when no where else is safe thats just life ig!#oh god i need to brush my teeth fuck.#hhvtbd but my mother is awake :(#HHGBHGBSNS i need to start doing that at an ealier time bc it keeps getting in the way of things #again. how the fuck does smth so simple as brushing my teeth make so much feel better 😭😭 its weird #sighh well! time to go back to trying to find drawing inspo!#(i unironically cannot use my own trauma as a drawing point bc it makes me actually suicidal. thats why i write it! /srs)#CHOKEKSSSJ ok ill hush now!

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yanderenightmare · 6 months ago

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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced bonding, subjugation, some type of discrimination, elements of androgyny

♡ fem reader

Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…

He could never bring himself to breed with Alphas. Growing up, he developed a great disdain for them—all high and mighty rabid animals prone to violence, more often than not completely dimwitted to top it off, as if their massive ego had usurped the place of basic brain operation.

He couldn’t hate them more, yet he doesn’t correct anyone when they mistake him for one, either. In many ways, he wished he was born one instead of an Omega. It would make it easier to fulfill his desires that way. A dominant Omega isn’t all that normal, after all—and submissive Alphas are an even rarer breed to come by.

He hadn't found one yet. And other Omegas don’t really do it for him. They approach him, thinking he’s an Alpha, then feel disappointed when figuring out he’s not—which is fine, as he isn’t particularly interested in their scent either. Betas make for an okay compromise—they don’t care if he’s an Omega, it makes no difference to them—yet he could never really shake the feeling that something was missing when lying with them.

At the office, the scent of Alphas plagues him all day—how they strut around, stinking up the place with no concern for anyone else. This is a workplace, for fuck’s sake—can’t they have a little dignity and not treat it like a mating ground? He really hates them. All bigheaded assholes—

“Ow—” there’s bark and a hard thunk of something hitting the floor.

Someone just bumped into him—someone so small he hadn’t even seen them over the top of his clipboard. Looking down, he sees a fellow Omega—a pretty one. You must be as disoriented by the scent around you as he is—probably why you walked right into him—poor thing. He ought to help you up.

You hold your head in your hand, wincing at the sting of your rear—you’d fallen right on your tailbone. Looking up, you give the fellow Alpha who’d knocked you down a mean glare, “What the hell, asshole!”

His outstretched hand stiffens midway. That’s not a very Omega-like thing to say—especially not by one so small as you. No, wait… what’s that scent?

You ignore his hand and get up on your own, dusting down your pin-stripes with angry brushes—face pursed, almost pouty, but not quite, too stink-eyed as you lean in and jab a finger into his chest to punctuate your words, “Watch where you’re going next time, you…”

You soften up halfway through the sentence. It must have dawned on you as well. His scent. Not like other Alphas, but something else entirely—something that suddenly makes you blush all over, wide-eyed.

You don’t say another word, only giving a weak huff before turning tail and stomping away.

There’s something very cute about it—he’s left thinking while watching you, utterly stunned and still, replaying the events that just occurred over and over in his head—wondering how he’d never seen you before. You must work on a different floor.

Luckily, he’d made sure to read your name tag—pinned all properly on your chest like a badge of honor, neatly like the rest of you. Well put together from the top of your salon-styled hair down to the tips of your pointy black stilettos. Even with their added height, you must have been two heads shorter than him—no taller than any regular Omega.

It's no wonder he mistook you for one. You were as cute as one, too—like a doll he could put behind glass, up on a mantle, and keep forever. But oh my… that mouth on you and that awful snarl. Just like any other imposing Alpha, he supposed. Bratty and arrogant, quick to jump the gun and pick a fight instead of taking it for the simple accident it was.

He goes back and sets himself down by his desk—but he’s way too distracted to work now, too busy with the thought of you. That flushed face you showed him before teetering off was something he wouldn’t mind seeing again—also that cute scowl under certain circumstances and what type of expression you’d give him if he wiped it off.

He's lucky an office party came along so quickly. He wouldn’t usually go, but now he had a reason. He bet you’d be there—the way you were dressed when you’d bumped into him tells him you’re one to respect the memo—head to toe in such a neat suit, trying to come off as androgynous as if in desperation needing everyone to know you were an Alpha. It must be hard for you—looking like that but wanting to look… well, suppose more like him.

He's glad he never felt that way—wishing to be smaller and cuter like other Omegas. Sure, he’s been envious of them at times, but more so of their easy pickings and not their appearance. He’s happy being bigger and stronger—it keeps unwanted attention at bay. You probably struggle to do the same. He bets you get a lot of the wrong eyes following you. Yeah… you must attract the bad sort all the time—alphas swarming you only to catch your scent and lose interest. Or maybe not… Alphas are sick, after all. Come to think of it, most of them would probably get off on dominating another Alpha. In that regard, it must have been worse for you than for him. Luckily, both of your issues are now solved.

He wondered what you’d wear tonight. You’d look much better in something feminine and not that suit you’d been wearing. He hopes, but no, you’re wearing much the same thing—another tailored two-piece that all but drowns you.

He understands what you’re going for. You have to dress like that, or else what Omega would ever want you looking the way you do? Aside from him, of course.

No matter. When you move in with him, he’ll dress you in all the pretty things he knows you want to wear. After all, pretty colors, ruffles, and lace will suit you so much better.

“Hello again.” He approaches you by the hors d’oeuvres even after you’d visibly and explicitly chosen to ignore him.

You groan under your breath, responding without even bothering to look at him, “Do I know you?”

Your tough act is cute. He has to withhold a chuckle before answering, “Don’t remember? You called me an asshole a week ago.”

“You walked right into me, so it’s not like it wasn’t deserved.”

You have to love that arrogance—that air of unfounded superiority. He wonders, where do you keep it all? “Well, how could I not? You’re so small I didn’t even see you.”

You’re quick to bare your teeth—obviously, he hit a nerve—showing him that same snarl you’d done back then. Cute little canines—he bet they won’t even hurt going into his neck once you mark him.

“Watch your mouth, Omega.”

Still, with a small smile, he feigns surprise. “Wow—are you an Alpha? Funny, I didn’t know they came in such tiny packages.”

It flusters you, no doubt—your brows lowered into a full glower now. “And I didn’t know Omegas could be so rude.”

You turn to stomp again, as you’d done before—though this time, he grabs your arm before you’re gone.

You whip around with another bark, “Hands off—"

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes unexpectedly, giving you puppy-dog eyes you hadn’t thought him capable of. “I should have been more mindful of my steps. It was entirely my fault.”

You go still at the sudden show of humility and respect. Finding yourself softening by the tilt of his head, bowing at you in acknowledgment of your higher standing. Not that many bother doing that to you—between mistaking you for an Omega or otherwise neglecting your standing as an Alpha, both due to your physique. Seeing it up close and so abruptly flusters you.

“Let me get you a drink to make up for it?” he offers politely, almost in plead.

Struck with feelings of somewhat regret for your own uncouth attitude, you nearly accept on a whim. “That’s kind…” But then think it over. You don’t really want to lead him on, either. You nearly stutter, yet steal yourself. After all… “But you’re not really my type.”

He hangs his head with a dejected sigh, “That’s harsh.” But he’d already figured as much and didn’t really care. Giving you his most sorry grin, he insists, “Humor me anyway? Just one drink so I don’t feel like an asshole for the rest of my life.”

It’s clear you want to refuse—still, as suspected, your heart just can’t handle seeing a desperate Omega in need. Bless your dim Alpha instincts.

“Okay, fine. One drink, that’s all,” you end up agreeing. One drink can’t hurt, right?

You feel like a good Samaritan once the big hunk of an Omega runs off to fetch you a glass. Pitying him or even sympathizing, maybe—it can’t be easy for an Omega in the mating scene to look like that. No Alpha around would want an Omega bigger than them—it’s utterly emasculating, not to mention unnatural.

Of course, you’re aware you’re in much the same shoes as him—you’re not delusional. Only, it’s easy being an independent Alpha—you don’t mind being a lone wolf in the world—but Omegas were built to be domestic. So yeah, you pity him—the poor guy, he’ll probably never find a proper mate.

But you can’t let your pity grant him too many favors—you have no intention of taking on any charity case tonight, especially not a pity fuck. You’ll have one drink with him as a mutual apology. That’s all.

Luckily… one drink is all he needs. Add a little sprinkle of this and that in your glass, and you’re already in the palm of his hand.

He has to carry you bridal style before he’s even managed to lead you to the elevator—it’s empty all the way down to the garage. He puts you in his car, locks your seatbelt in place, then drives off. It’s honestly quite astounding how easy it had been. He’d thought trapping an Alpha would be a much more remarkable feat, an impossible one for an Omega—but this was no different from eating an unguarded piece of cake.

You’re drowsy as he carries you into his apartment. And that’s when the other drug kicks in. The overwhelming scent of being inside his nest sets off your rut like a matchstick being ripped along the red.

Your claws come out, puncturing his sheets as he lays you down on his bed.

You’re too delirious to do much but writhe—making it easy for him to unbutton your dress shirt, followed by your slacks. He has to scoff at your plain black boxers and binder bra. You poor thing, always trying to run with the big dogs when you’re no bigger than a bite-sized puppy. From now on, you’ll only wear lacey things he brings home for you. You won’t have to puff your chest—you can be as sweet and pretty as your delicate physique constitutes—his cutest, littlest, most perfect mate.

You gain newfound strength once he’s peeled your underwear down, baring your needy heat to his touch. Instantly, your arms spring into action, flinging themselves around him, pouncing like a predator at its prey with your fangs bared.

He stops you easily—placing his wrist between your teeth, using it as a muzzle. He chuckles, looking at you gnaw on it like a bone.

“I think the world has it all wrong,” he starts, though he’s not sure you’re even capable of understanding speech in your state. “Omegas are the ones better suited as leaders of society, not Alphas.”

As he talks, he continues with his ministrations, stroking your needy slit with a mean finger, swiping it cruelly before splitting between the folds.

“I mean, look at you—mindless in a rut, willing to pounce on anything that moves—like a wild animal.” Once he sticks his finger inside you, your teeth do his wrist the same justice—drawing blood, making him hiss through his smile, “I ought to keep you in a cage.” And yet he doesn’t pull either hand away. “It would suit you well—on your knees with a pretty leash and collar upon your throat.”

You’re wet in his hand—soaked and so warm he loses track of his own finger as if melting within you. His cock strains against his boxer, wanting to feel it for himself. But you’re still way too tight for that.

He feeds you another digit, and you moan—suckling on his wrist now more than biting, though still with your canines out and seeking.

“Look at these wittle teeth, tch—” he grins upon closer inspection, looking between them and your eyes—pupil-fat orbs, far gone in your instincts. “I bet they’re just itching for my neck instead, huh?”

The provocation seems to make you more desperate. Pumping you slowly, more so to stretch you out than stimulate, he can feel your breaths turn thicker with need, how you press your tongue against his wrist, wet and lousy, wanting for more.

“Well, go on then, Alpha...” He chuckles again, removing his arm from barring your mouth before wrapping your throat with the same hand, holding it like a collar, keeping you under control.

And then he bares his neck for you.

“I give my consent.”

♡ part two

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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luveline · 1 year ago

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hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter."

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor.

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare.

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you."

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal.

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur.

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase.

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak.

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to."

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You're Peter?" you ask.

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–"

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask.

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?"

"Not so, you know. Daunted."

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye.

"Oh, you think so?"

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap.

"Let's get you to the car, baby."

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up.

"Home."

"Together?"

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy."

"Thank you," you say shyly.

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again?

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?"

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly.

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty."

"You're my boyfriend?"

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–"

"You want to get married? To me?"

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers��"

"We did?"

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it."

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me."

"I love you," you say quietly.

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession.

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?"

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober.

Which reminds him.

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat.

"What is it?" you ask.

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!"

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onlythebravest · 1 year ago

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#my dad texted me the yesterday evening and asked how moving was going #I replied an hour and a half later and said not great my mom fell and got pretty badly injured so we haven’t really been able to do anything #he still hasn’t responded 24+ hours later #and it’s not that I would’ve wanted his help even if he would offer #but just a simple ‘oh thst sucks’ could be nice you know?#seeing as I was supposed to move in a month ago #not even a ‘is she okay?’#bc like come on she’s the most important person in my and my siblings’ lives #I would’ve asked him if his fiancé was okay if he told me she gotten badly injured #even though I couldn’t give shit about her #yeah ignore this #it’s just me whining as usual

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seijorhi · 2 months ago

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All In

the beta fic you have been waiting months for <33 Ushijima Wakatoshi, Semi Eita & Tendou Satori x female reader w.c 6.8k tw: yandere themes, a/b/o, noncon, (sorta) smut, nsfw, one mention of blood and oozing wounds, implied stalking, forced claiming

“They’re good guys – good alphas. This won’t be like last time, I promise. You’ll see what I mean when you meet them,” Ayako murmurs, squeezing your hand in reassurance and offering you a brilliant grin. “They’re gonna love you.”

Love seems a bit of a stretch.

But Aya looks so… hopeful. You sigh. “You really like them, huh?”

“I really like them,” she admits, a pretty pink blush tingeing her cheeks. “You come first, though. You’re my beta, and if it doesn’t feel right, we’ll walk, okay? No questions asked.”

A promise she’s kept more than once. Too many times. Omegas like Aya, young and vibrant and oh-so-lovely, shouldn’t have any trouble finding a pack to settle down with. Hell, alphas should be banging down the door just for a chance with her – to fuck, to bond, anything and everything in between. You’re the sticking point. The reason why Ayako hasn’t bonded into a pack yet.

Alphas have no interest in betas. They do nothing for them – can’t take a knot, don’t have heats. Betas aren’t durable enough to ride out an alpha’s rut. All that compounded by the simple fact that bonding bites between the two don’t last longer than a few months, so why bother?

You’re dead weight. Aya clings to you anyway.

She pulls your hand to her cheek, the tender, delicate spot right beneath the curve of her jaw. Scenting, you realise a touch belatedly. Omegas have stronger scents than betas do; florals, spice, indulgent, enticing things – you once knew an omega whose scent reminded you of hot caramel drizzled over apple pie. Ayako smells like lilacs and the rain, a softer scent admittedly, yet one that screams of home and comfort and familiar things.

Your own scent is milder. Now, on top of sea salt and that faint whisper of summer, you’ll smell a little of her. She’s claiming you as pack, as hers. Her beta, exactly as she’d said

A flutter of warmth blooms in your chest, and you smile back at her, the first genuine one of the night.

“You look great, by the way,” she tells you. “Come on, Tendou messaged to say they’re running a bit late and we should head on in without them. Ushijima’s practice doesn’t finish up ‘til about seven, so we’ve got plenty of time for the show.” She winks and lets out a bubbling laugh and you kind of feel like you’ve missed the joke.

Nevertheless, you let her tug you into the stadium. The lady behind the ticketing counter slides across two visitor’s passes on lanyards when Ayako gives your names.

“Practices are closed to the public,” the omega explains in a hushed voice while the two of you make your way towards the door for the stands. “Apparently the team get a few passes they can hand out to whoever they like – pack, usually.”

The pass has your name printed on it. Beneath it, in bold; Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You finger the plastic edges absentmindedly.

There’s other people in the stands, all wearing the same style lanyard draped around your neck. Some, you think, are partners. Friends and family. Pack, like Ayako said. You spy a woman maybe a few years older than you, bouncing a toddler on her lap and pointing animatedly towards the court, another guy sitting beside her, an arm curled over the back of her seat. Others appear to be there in a more official capacity – staff, you suppose, wearing the same white polo edged in blue and gold (team colours, you guess), talking quietly amongst themselves and jotting things down on expensive looking tablets.

They pay you no mind. Ayako does the same, dragging you right up to the guard-rail with an excited gasp. You’d been expecting them to be running laps or tossing balls in pairs or something. You weren’t expecting anything like this.

Without the roar of a crowd, every noise on the court is amplified; the squeaking of shoes, the thwack of palms meeting leather, shouts ricocheting from both sides as they scramble for the ball.

Scramble isn’t the right word, though. It flies through the air between the players, choreographed chaos.

One of the players, a dark haired behemoth, shoots up and connects with the ball, slamming it over the net with a terrifying force – you feel the impact in your chest when it hits the floor.

A whistle rings out.

“Oh my god,” Aya breathes.

The behemoth turns, dark eyes zeroing in on your figure from across the court. His nostrils flare.

Alpha, you realise. He’s one of Aya’s alphas.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

“You know he’s one of the top wing spikers in the country, and he’s on the national team? He’s already got like three Olympic medals! Three!” she gushes. “He’s incredible.”

You hardly hear her. The other players on the court, his teammates, are already re-setting, a blond slapping Ushijima on the back, another hurling a teasing jab across the net – earning him a middle finger in response – Ushijima’s gaze doesn’t shift, his attention doesn’t waver. You swear you see his pupils dilate.

Your breath is caught somewhere in your chest.

“Are you gonna wave at the alpha you dressed so pretty for?”

“Would you stop?” you hiss, tearing your gaze away to jab an elbow into Ayako’s side, which she artfully dodges with a delighted giggle.

“Can’t say I blame you for drooling. I practically melted into a puddle the first time Semi dragged him into the bakery. He’s hot as hell,” she sighs.

The problem is, she isn't wrong. Weird, heavy, way too intense eye contact aside, Ushijima is the textbook definition of ‘hot alpha’; all tall and broad shouldered, his face hewn with clean, strong lines. Add on the ridiculous athleticism, the muscles that clearly aren’t just for show – yeah, no wonder Aya’s got heart eyes already.

On the court below, the whistle blows. More cheers. Another point scored. By the time you glance down again, Ushijima’s lost interest, his focus returned to the game, nodding at something one of the (you presume) coaches yells across the court.

The tight, prickling feeling writhing beneath your skin, that doesn’t fade as quick.

God, you’re way too worked up about this whole thing.

“He’s very, uh…”

“Intimidating? No– impressive? Or were you gonna say sexy? All true, by the way. Ushiwaka’s a beast.”

The other two alphas have finally deigned to grace you with their presence. Wonderful.

Swallowing back a wince, you turn to face the duo. “Good,” you say. “I was going to say he’s very… good.”

Aya had told you the basics, of course; Semi’s the lead singer slash guitarist in a band, Tendou’s a chocolatier. The former used to be a civil servant, the latter recently moved back from a stint in Paris, and both of them played Volleyball with Ushijima in high school.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting. Carbon cutouts of their packmate, maybe, big, brawny, radiating the kind of imposing dominance that forces everyone around them – other alphas included – to sit down and shut up with a look alone.

The two alphas before you aren’t that.

The shorter of the two, more wiry in his build than the redhead beside him, smirks. “Good, huh?”

He’s teasing you. They’re both teasing you. Your cheeks burn hotter. Before you can open your mouth to apologise, try and sidestep you shoving your own foot in your mouth as a first impression, Aya intervenes.

“You should’ve seen her a minute ago, her jaw was on the ground. She’s playing it cool.”

The sound of her laugh digs at you in a way it shouldn’t.

It’s not fair, not when you’re the one who’s acting like you don’t have a single working brain cell and she’s trying to cover for you, but it bothers you when Ayako acts like she has to smoothe over your edges, make you more palatable, more pleasing. You’re not an omega, you won’t ever be an omega, and sometimes you can’t help but wonder if Aya’s gonna spend the rest of your lives trying to compensate for that.

Her shoulder knocks with yours, a gentle bump, that same hopeful, painfully optimistic look in her eyes.

Guilt, an old, familiar friend at this point, washes over you.

“This is Semi,” she introduces, gesturing at the ash-blond with the ripped jeans, “and Tendou,” the gangly redhead.

“And you must be our beta,” Semi surmises, slowly eyeing you over.

The casual possessiveness rankles you, your tight smile freezing in place. Again Ayako simply laughs, her fingers, very deliberately, lacing with yours once more. “She’s my beta, you have yet to win her over.”

Neither alpha appears all that put out by the prospect.

Tendou, eyes crinkling with a wide, eager grin that takes you a little aback, thrusts a hand out towards you, a white gift bag you hadn’t noticed dangling from his fingertips. “Presents help with the whole wooing thing, right?” he jokes.

From your experience, yes.

Aya’s received plenty. You, as her tag along beta, less so.

One pack brought you a bouquet of pink and white peonies on your first date. Not quite as extravagant as the arrangement of roses they presented Aya with, they had a lovely, subtle perfume and when you put them in a vase and set them atop your nightstand, they brightened up the whole room. You could appreciate that they’d at least tried to make you feel an equal part of this.

They’d been willing to play pretend.

Back then, when Aya first started bringing potential packs around, you were… idealistic. Naive, maybe.

You watched them dote on her. Lap up Aya’s attention like it was the sweetest fix. You saw the hunger. The arousal that flared, thick and syrupy, whenever she did something unintentionally appealing to the alpha inside of them – a simple stretch, nibbling on her bottom lip while she mulled over a menu, the sway of her hips as she walked up to the bar.

Oh, they were polite to you. Drew you into conversations, chatted about your job, your hobbies, the plans the two of you had for the holidays in a few weeks’ time – all the while tracking every movement of the omega beside you from the corner of their eyes.

They were nice to you. You didn’t want ‘nice’. You wanted what they so freely offered to Aya; hunger and captivated attention, a desire so thick in the air you could choke on it.

Foolish, pretty fantasies. There’s no competing with biology, you know that. The most interesting, beautiful beta in the room is still just a beta.

Down below, the court’s quieter, muted chatter drifting up to the bleachers in place of squeaking and thuds and the sharp trill of whistles blowing. Did the practice match finish up?

Aya squeezes your hand. Drops it. As subtle a cue as she can manage.

Brain kicking back into gear, you step closer and pluck the gift from the alpha’s outstretched hand, an odd little shiver trickling down your spine when the tips of your fingers graze his rough palm.

“Ah, thank you,” you say, remembering your manners at last.

Tendou’s eyes flutter shut, breathing in deep, shuddering a little on the exhale. When they open again, there’s a giddy sort of satisfaction creeping from his expression. He licks his lips, smiling wide. “Sea salt.”

“… Sorry?”

“The chocolates,” his chin juts towards the gift. “Sea salt caramel. I had a feeling, went with it. I’m not usually wrong.” He sounds absurdly proud of the fact.

“Oh.”

Beside you, Aya looks as lost as you feel. Semi, on the other hand, snorts, shaking his head. “You might wanna ease up on the beta, dude. She met you all of three minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but we’re gonna be besties. I can feel it.” Without warning he slings an arm over your shoulders, dragging you close to smush you into his side, unbothered by your startled yelp, the way the bag of chocolates smacks against his torso when the hand clutching it jerks out to steady yourself. “Don’t be jealous ‘cuz I’m already the favourite, Semi-Semi.”

Semi shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, leaning back against the centre railing behind him. Slowly, a smirk unfurls. A challenge. “For now.”

Plastered against Tendou’s side, swallowed up by the heat of him, the heady scent of cherrywood – of alpha – thick and strong, and with no sign of him letting you go anytime soon, you dart a glance to Aya.

Your best, oldest (admittedly only) friend, watching the three of you with a quirked eyebrow, expression otherwise indecipherable–

And then, she giggles, rolling her eyes with exasperated amusement. “Can we at least sit while you two fight over my well-earned spot?”

You wonder if they notice the brief look of concern she throws your way as Tendou relaxes his hold and the two usher you over to a seat, Semi snagging the one to your left, Aya taking the right.

Her promise from earlier rings in your head. One word and she’ll walk, no questions asked.

Aya needs a pack. She wants this one. She likes this one, but at some point, she’ll need one.

Omegas don’t do well long term without mates. Right now her heats are okay, manageable with suppressants and toys – eventually those won’t be enough. They’ll get worse, come without warning, more frequently. The suppressants won’t help, she’ll ache and burn up, forgo food, water, sleep…

The lucky ones end up hospitalised. The unlucky ones either end up dead or in situations where it’d be a kindness if they were.

“You okay?” she asks, whisper soft. Her voice won’t carry, the other two aren’t paying attention anyway. Semi’s thigh brushes up against yours when he spreads his legs wide, thumbing out a message on his phone, and Tendou’s leaning over the backrest between you, chin perched on his folded forearms, watching him type.

One word and she’ll walk, that’s what Aya promised.

Down on the court below, the players spread across the floor, stretching out and cooling down, half empty water bottles and sweat towels scattered around them. Ushjima’s lying on your side of the court, one thigh drawn over the other, twisting out his lower back. If he realises he’s got an audience in you and Aya, he gives no indication of caring, holding the stretch for a few seconds longer before repeating the motion with the other leg.

“Yeah.”

If chocolates and overly tactile besties are what you get out of this, you can manage that.

—

While you wait out front of the stadium for Ushijima to finish up, Semi smokes.

A lit cigarette dangles loosely between two fingers, the tip glowing cherry red with every drag. He stands separate from the three of you, a few feet away, because when he’d fished out the slightly crumpled packet from his jacket pocket to pluck one out, Aya’s nose wrinkled. Omegas are sensitive to strong smells at the best of times, and Aya’s loathed the stench of cigarettes ever since she was a kid and her dad would smoke on the back porch of her gran’s place. He died years ago, and to this day she swears up and down that every time she sets foot back there, she smells those Seven Stars.

To her credit, she hadn’t actually said anything, and to Semi’s, he hadn’t kicked up a fuss. He’d shrugged, shuffled on back and lit up anyway. Water off a duck’s back.

Tendou talks loudly and Aya’s giggling laugh echoes louder. Semi watches. Idle – bored, almost.

Until his gaze shifts to you.

And stays there.

From a young age, you’re taught that alphas are stronger than betas and omegas. They’re quicker. Smarter. In the old days, they tell you, alphas were the hunters, the providers – protectors, when the situation called for it. What they mean, dressing the truth up in nicer, more palatable terms is that alphas are, down to their marrow, predators.

Those instincts don’t go away just because society’s a little more civilised these days.

Semi’s expression doesn’t change. There’s nothing particularly dangerous or threatening there, nothing to explain the sudden ball of anxiety that lodges itself in your stomach.

Yet you can’t shake the sense that with that stare, every ounce of his focus rests solely on you. Every breath, every nervous twitch, shift of your muscles, all of it tracked, analysed. He stares, breathing out a slow plume of smoke, and you feel the physical weight of it bearing down on you.

He won’t bite, lunge for the kill – but he could.

His chin tilts, eyebrow lifting. A flicker of amusement, as if he knows exactly the thoughts running wild in your head. You shake them off, ignore the hammering of your heart to follow the wordless, beckoning call to his side, nudging Aya on the way past so she won’t think you’ve abandoned her.

“You realise she’s gonna try and get you to quit,” you tell him in what you hope is a friendly, upbeat tone.

Semi scoffs and takes another drag of his cigarette. You watch, off-kilter, a little dazed as his head tilts back, exposing the long, lithe column of his throat, and he slowly exhales.

With dark, sweeping lashes and angular features, the problem, you realise, is that Semi is distractingly pretty. An artless, grunged up sort of pretty. Pretty like pools of oil on asphalt after it rains.

Pretty in the way that poisonous things often are.

“She’s more than welcome to try.” He plucks his cig from his lips and extends it your way, his expression almost… goading.

You don’t take it.

There isn’t much surprise to be found in your refusal, his pretty mouth pursing as his arm falls by the wayside. “Omega’s got her claws stuck in you good, huh.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it. What all this boils down to. Right from the start, the very first pack you met and every pack since – Aya’s made it clear from the get-go. They don’t get her without you. You’re her beta.

“Is that a problem for you?”

You won’t take the cigarette because Aya has issues with it. She won’t entertain you leaving her because the two of you are too fucking entangled in one another to handle extrication.

You’re pack, you’re family, you’re all each other has left, now that her grandma – the woman who essentially raised you and her – is gone.

You won’t play second fiddle, if only because Aya won’t allow them to push you aside like that. If that’s a problem, a dealbreaker (and, historically speaking, it has been) better they figure it out now, before she – or you – gets too attached and ends up hurt.

Semi regards you for a long moment, taking one last puff of his cigarette before he flicks it away, grinds the smoldering butt into the cement with the toe of his boot. “Don’t know yet. Guess we’ll find out.”

And you nod, because at least that’s an honest answer.

“Tendou came back to Japan for her, didn’t he?” It’d twigged when you’d gone to hand back your visitor’s pass and the lady behind the counter made some casual comment about not expecting to see him ‘til next season.

Not back for a visit, back permanently.

Semi shakes his head, “He was always coming back. Paris was only ever a temporary thing,” he corrects. “But yeah, he made the decision to come home early when we realised the opportunity that’d fallen into our laps.”

While you don’t love the way he makes meeting Aya sound, you understand the gravity of what he’s saying. Tendou uprooted his life for her.

You glance back over your shoulder, fiddling with the handles of the bag of chocolates he’d made for you. They’re still talking, quieter now, both of them subtly – subconsciously, probably – angled towards the two of you; Aya with that same bright-eyed look about her, Tendou like he’s just itching to interrupt and steal your attention back for himself. He, at least, might actually like you.

“And you? Are you all in, too?”

The words slip out before you can stop them. Semi doesn’t owe you an answer, you know that. It’s not fair that you asked, it’s just– you can’t get a read on him. For all his sharp edges and the smirks that make your insides squirm, you don’t know whether this is what he wants. Wanted, maybe.

Semi surprises you. In a move too quick for you to catch, he closes in on you. He doesn’t pin you down per se. You’re not caged in, trapped between his body and a wall. Physically speaking, there’s nothing stopping you from stepping back and regaining that inch of space as he looms over your shorter frame, tilting your chin upwards with two curled fingers like he’s going to kiss you.

Nothing except your suddenly jelly legs.

There’s barely anything separating you. Millimetres. Heat floods your face. Your stomach tightens, blood simmering, writhing beneath your skin. Long fingers encircle your wrist, right where Aya had scented you, his thumb digging in over your fluttering pulse. A noise escapes you then, a distressed sort of whimper you thought yourself above, and Semi’s eyes flick down to your lips, something dark and hungry flaring in response.

Alpha. Smaller than his packmates, but no less.

“Who d’you think called him and told him to get his ass back home, little beta?”

You swallow unsteadily–

“Time to share, Semi-Semi,” Tendou sings, snaking an arm around your waist to haul you away from the blond. To you, he says, “You wanna come say hi to our big, bad pack alpha, don’tcha?”

It’s then you realise that Ushijima, along with several of his teammates, have finally emerged. While they wave each other off, scattering across the carpark, some heading to their cars, others in the direction of buses and the train station, Ushijima halts near the door – Aya already skipping on over.

“Ah… yes?”

Tendou snickers.

“Relax,” Semi tells you with a smirk, clapping your shoulder as he brushes on past. “Ushiwaka doesn’t bite.”

As Tendou nudges you forward like an errant duckling, you fix Semi with an unimpressed look. He winks. Asshole.

Omegas, especially unbonded omegas, tend to be picky about touch and physical affection outside of pack and family. Aya, for all her moon-eyed infatuation, doesn’t throw herself at the alpha. Ushijima offers a single, wooden pat on her head, the edges of his mouth lifting in what you suppose is an approximation of a smile.

She beams all the same.

“– and this is my beta,” she introduces.

You’re not anticipating an overly warm welcome. For one, he looks stiff enough smiling at Aya to suspect he’s not practised with the expression, for another… the whole, weird staring thing from earlier sits all too fresh in your mind. If he’d heard your awkward fumbling with his packmates in the aftermath, you doubt that’s helped endear you to him any.

Nothing prepares you for the way he turns, every speck of goodwill falling from his features when your scent finally reaches him. Cold, remote stone, eyeing you down.

“You smell like lilacs,” he grunts, like the very concept offends him. You, a beta, wearing his would-be mate’s scent.

—

The izakaya the alphas take you to is only a few minutes walk from the stadium, and each one of them passes in near unbearable, stilted tension.

Aya doesn’t question you when you make a bee-line for the bathroom rather than following the others to a table, though the small furrow between her brows says plenty.

You just need a minute.

The single unisex stall offers spartan amenities at best – a sink with a cracked mirror hammered into the wall, paper towels, and a lone, flickering light above.

Braced over the porcelain vanity, eyes closed, shaking like a leaf with remnants of ice-cold water dripping down your face, you will the frantic, sickening churn inside you to ease.

Fuck.

What’s wrong with you?

Ushijima could barely stand that Aya had scented you, and you’re supposed to believe he’d let you bond into the pack with her? And if he did, what kind of life would that be? You, forever on the outside, pack but not really, not in the ways that matter.

What place does a beta have between alphas and their omega?

More to the point, how, after all the packs you and Aya have tried this with, all the the indifference and dismissal you’ve weathered, the cruel insults you weren’t supposed to hear–

Think of it this way, dude; it’s a spare hole for you to stick your cock in while the omega’s busy bouncing on my knot.

–how are you still surprised that they don’t want you?

You let a slow breath out, shoulders sagging. Okay.

Okay.

Straightening up, you rip a sheet of paper towel from the dispenser, dabbing to remove any trace of distress from your face. You can do this, you tell yourself. Smile, play pretend. A few drinks, some dumplings, yakitori – two, three hours max.

Nothing’s changed.

The alphas want Ayako. Ayako wants these alphas.

In spite of that, in spite of the blushing and fawning and big, lovely doe eyes that bat ever so prettily for her alphas, she’ll hold true to her promise if you ask it of her.

No questions asked, without an ounce of resentment, she’d walk away from them. She’d choose you.

It’d be a few weeks of moping around, picking each other up and dusting yourselves off. There’ll be other packs. Aya’s got a few years yet before her heats really become an issue. You can always try again.

The thing is… you don’t want to anymore.

They like you as a friend. You’re in the way. They wanna fuck you, but only if the omega’s otherwise occupied. You can take care of the household stuff during heats and ruts, right? Maybe one day there could be something more.

They wouldn’t look twice if it wasn’t for Ayako.

Every time it hurts, like clawing out pieces of yourself, and you just… you can’t anymore. You won’t.

So tonight, you’ll be the bestie. Let her have her fun, flirt with the big, strong alphas she’s so enamoured by, and then tomorrow… tomorrow you’ll find a way to cut yourself loose from all of this. Aya gets her pack and you can find a nice, normal beta to settle down with. You’ll both be happier for it in the long run.

Wiping a smudge of mascara from under your eye, you suck in another fortifying breath, nodding at yourself in the mirror. A few hours of pretending is nothing. A piece of cake.

Focused entirely on the veneer you have to slip into, you don’t notice the large, muscular frame blocking the door until you quite literally collide with it.

“Oof– Sorry, my b–”

The words wither like ash on your tongue when you look up to find Ushijima standing over you.

Despite the resolution you’d come to mere moments ago, you’re not feeling particularly charitable towards the hulking behemoth of an alpha, and you have every intention of wordlessly skirting around him to head back to the table and join your friend, civility be damned.

You make it all of a single step before a change sweeps over him and he stiffens, nostrils flaring like they had back on the court. His eyes bleed black, and that’s the only warning you get before he seizes your wrist in one giant hand and starts to haul you back into the stall, slamming the door shut behind you both.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you hiss.

“She scented you,” he growls, looking angrier than he did before. “You smell like omega.”

No, this isn’t anger. Not exactly. Ushijima’s shoulders heave with every breath, his whole frame almost shuddering, pulled taut like a bowstring primed to snap–

And that’s when realisation hits.

“You’re in a rut,” you whisper, eyes going wide in horror. “Ushiji–” You don’t get to finish the sentence.

Big should mean slow. Clumsy. Ushijima’s neither.

In an instant he surges into motion, one hand clamping down over your mouth, the other shoving you forward, trapping you on the tips of your toes between his hulking body and the vanity that was your lifeline five minutes ago. Just like then, your hands automatically reach out, clutching the edge of the sink to steady yourself. Stupid, when the full weight of Ushijima pins you precariously in place anyway.

Your heart hammers, panic and terror clawing at your stomach. You aren’t an omega, you can’t take a knot. If Ushijima tries to fuck you like he wants – like his instincts are driving him to – he’ll tear you apart. He’ll break you.

But if any part of the mindless, snarling alpha behind you recognises that, he doesn’t care. The warm body in his grasp smells like lilacs, like the omega outside, and that’s good enough.

He noses at your hair and pants, yanking your skirt up to rip at your underwear. The fabric gives easily.

While he rips and claws at his own clothes to free his cock, Ushijima stares at your reflection, watching you shake as the tears well up and spill over. There’s nothing human there, nothing cognizant. The black pits staring back at you are pure alpha, consumed by the need to fuck and breed.

You have seconds – seconds – to brace yourself.

Ushijima drags the head of his cock along your slit just once, bends you over, and without warning or preamble, splits you in two.

Omegas have slick to help with sudden ruts. You don’t.

It doesn’t matter that you’re not prepared to take him, that it hurts worse than anything you’ve experienced before and you’re choking on tears and muffled wails. You scream into his hand and Ushijima grunts, bullying his cock into you one agonising millimetre at a time.

He fucks into you like you’re made to take his cock, every thrust slamming you into the unforgiving edge of the sink while your legs scramble for purchase. You’re fairly sure you’re close to passing out when you feel the swell of his knot start to catch.

Oblivious to your panic, the wheezing cries and pleas dashed against his palm, the alpha snarls in open-mouthed pleasure, his spare hand coming down to cover one of your own, braced against the sink. “Mine.”

With the added weight, the vanity unit rattles against the wall, and you pray that someone’s walking by and hears it, cares enough to come investigate.

You aren’t that lucky, though.

Ushijima hauls you back upright, and as his knot swells, thick and pulsing, stretching you to breaking point and spurts of hot cum coat your insides, you cling on to consciousness just long enough to watch him tilt your chin to the side, lap at a bead of sweat trailing down your neck, and bury his teeth in your skin.

—

Three days after your release from hospital, you wake to Aya knocking at your bedroom.

“S’posed to be at the bakery,” you mumble, curling tighter into the warm cocoon of your sheets. Soft morning light spills into your room. You can’t be bothered reaching for your phone to see the time, however your internal clock tells you that whatever the time is, it’s too early.

Aya sighs, taking that as an invitation to slip inside and plant herself on the edge of the mattress beside you. “Soon. I swapped shifts so I could start a bit later. I didn’t want…” she seems to struggle to find the right words, her shoulders rising and falling in a helpless shrug. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

That isn’t the problem.

“You remember the day your mom left?” The stark flinch beneath the covers must serve as answer enough. “You wouldn’t stop crying. Gran was so worried you’d make yourself sick, kept bringing you tea, bottles of water, anything to keep you hydrated.”

An omega like her granddaughter, the last of her alphas having passed away a few years before, she’d paced fretfully outside Aya’s bedroom door for hours while you’d sobbed into your best friend’s arms, an absolute wreck.

A bittersweet feeling floods your heart at the memory. No one ever loved you like gran did.

Aya continues, “I made a decision that day. I wasn’t going to leave. I wasn’t going to run off with a bunch of alphas to live out some fairytale happily ever after and leave you behind. You can blame me for what happened. I get it. If I hadn’t scented you, he–” she breaks off with a sharp inhale.

He wouldn’t have tipped into a rut.

Wouldn’t have fucked you.

Knotted you.

Bit you.

“You can blame me for it,” she repeats, though her voice shakes and her eyes shine with tears she won’t let fall. “Hate me for it if you have to, so long as you know I’m not going anywhere. You’re still my beta, my best friend. All I wanted was to keep us together.”

Aya waits for you to say something. To forgive or condemn, and you try– you genuinely do, because blaming her isn’t fair, and you could no sooner hate her than you could carve out a lung.

Only… you open your mouth and there’s nothing.

The way her expression collapses before she has a chance to plaster over it hits you like a punch to the stomach.

“Alright, lovely girl. I’ll see you when I get back – four-ish probably, unless we get hit with a late rush. I’ll try and steal some of those mini strawberry cakes to bring home too, I know how much you like them,” she rambles, patting your blanket covered knee and rising to her feet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Aya–”

Already halfway to the door, she turns, perfect brow arched, “Hm?” Like she’s expecting you to ask for another blanket. Some tea. Nothing wrong, nothing amiss.

“Love you, too.”

And it’s like the sun coming out from the clouds. Aya beams a watery smile, and quietly closes the door behind her.

Sleep drags you back under before you hear the front door click. The doctors warned you about that; one of the many charming side effects you’d be subjected to over the next few weeks.

Bond sickness, they called it. An alpha’s bite formed a mating bond, and that bond doesn’t respond well when it’s neglected, say by putting several miles of distance between you and the alpha who marked you. For omegas it can be deadly if it goes on long enough. Alphas have a sense of it, but it doesn’t affect them in the same way. They don’t get sick. For you, it means a month or so of lethargy, aches, low grade fevers and chills, nausea, a veritable shopping list of symptoms that’ll ease and fade as the bond itself does.

None of that had stopped one of the nurse’s at the hospital from suggesting that, despite the delicate nature of the situation, it might be beneficial for your health if you moved in with Ushijima and his pack until it did fade.

It was Aya who’d jumped down her throat for that one.

You were still in shock. Numb–

Except for the foreign, slow simmering anger lodged like a thorn between your ribs. A small piece of you that wasn’t you at all.

—

Sometime around midmorning, you stir again.

There’s footsteps in the living room, pattering through towards your bedroom. Dancing on the edge of awake, your brain slow and sluggish, jumps to the most logical conclusion.

“Aya?”

You expect your door to open, that familiar bloom of lilacs to spill into your room along with your best friend, a bowl of noodle soup from the shop on the corner in tow, the strawberry cakes she promised earlier, extra pillows, coffee, her laptop with your favourite movie already queued up; comfort things she knows will help.

The door does swing open, and neither one of the tall, looming frames behind it belong to Aya.

“Sorry to disappoint, little beta,” Semi drawls, crossing the threshold like he has every right to be there. “Your girlfriend’s busy, you’re gonna have to play with us instead.”

The blood in your veins runs cold.

Drawing your legs up tight to put as much distance between you and the advancing alpha as you can, your eyes dart between the two, Tendou lingering in the doorway, fingers drumming against the jamb.

“I didn’t report him. I’m not going to,” you tell them, clutching at the blankets around you so your hands won’t shake. “I know how it’ll go, I’m not i-interested in–”

Semi reaches your bed. That look he’d had in his eyes back at the stadium, dark, focused, predatory – it’s there again, sharp and gleaming. He’s smirking.

“There’s no– you don’t need to threaten me, or-or try to scare me–” His knee hits the mattress and your voice jumps to a squeak as he climbs on up.

You squirm back against the headboard. Semi prowls closer.

There’s nowhere for you to go.

Tendou’s not so subtly placed himself between you and the exit, and even if you could launch yourself out of bed without Semi catching you – without your head spinning and stomach threatening to upheave – they’re alphas. You couldn’t outrun them on a good day, you sure as hell can’t fight them.

“Please. You can go. I-I won’t say anything.”

“Fuck, that’s cute,” Tendou shivers, the deep red of his iris nearly swallowed by black. His fingers aren’t idly drumming anymore, they’re digging into the wood, splintering it beneath his grip.

Inches away from you, Semi suddenly freezes, his attention snapping downwards to focus on something near his right hand. His nose wrinkles, lip curling. “You wanna know what I liked best about the omega?” he asks, lifting his gaze back to you. “I don’t think you really believed me back at the stadium.”

You shake your head. You don’t want to know. If they aren’t here to scare you into keeping your mouth shut about Ushijima, then–

A low, husky chuckle comes from the doorway.

“When she’d show up smelling like the sea in summer.”

He strikes hard and fast – seizing your ankle to yank you under him. His mouth finds the soft curve where your neck meets your shoulder and he bites down. Hard.

Agony washes you over you, chased by fire.

Panting wildly, your body locks up, arcing against him; against the warmth that crowds you, the hard muscles that cage you, the face now tucked into the crook of your neck, licking at the bloody, oozing wound.

He’s there inside of you, too. Buried beneath your skin, brimming with smug satisfaction.

“Bite her and we’ll take her home to the nest. I’m not fucking her here,” he calls over his shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on you. He pats your hair, strokes your cheek. “Little beta needs her mates, don’t you?”

“Course she does!”

You’re gasping for air that won’t come, trembling, heart beating so frantically inside your chest you worry it’ll give out.

Tendou, bounding over with puppy-like eagerness, jumps on the bed and shoves his fellow alpha out of the way.

“A…ya,” you rasp, weakly pushing at the large body crawling atop yours. You’re not sure whether it’s a question or a plea, but you get the sense that it doesn’t actually matter either way.

Semi rolls his eyes – you can feel the flicker of his irritation – while Tendou, pawing at your sleep tee, pushing it up and shoving his face into the soft skin revealed there only groans, huffing at your scent like he can’t get enough.

“Pretty omega like her? She’ll have her own alphas to worry about,” Semi dismisses, a faint frown marring his pretty face as he zeros in on the bandage over your neck.

A split second too late, you realise his intentions.

“No, don’t–”

He rips off the gauze.

Ushijima’s bite is puffy and inflamed. Calloused fingertips drift over the edges of the wound, Semi’s eyes boring into you as you let out a low, anxious whine. As Tendou licks and nips at your chest, working his way upwards, the blond increases the pressure, digging in.

You choke on a cry, pleasure, rather than pain, flooding and overwhelming your senses, and deep in your core, the answering surge of rabid need rips through you so viciously it punches the air from your lungs–

“We don’t fucking share.”

–and you scream as Tendou’s teeth sink into the curve of your breast, claiming you one final time.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere semi #yandere tendou #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #yandere semi eita x reader #yandere tendou satori x reader #tw: noncon #i feel like i'm missing a tag or two but it's late i'm tired i just wanna post #but yaaaaay beta fic's here #if one (1) person hits me with the 'she's secretly an omega'#i will commit acts of violence #okay?#okay :))

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pynkfairyheart · 9 months ago

Text

pairings: eren x virgin!reader

warnings: smuuttt 18+

Stress Reliever

“Mama, calm down” Eren followed as you paced around the room, before plopping down onto the bed, a pout resting on your face.

“But Eren, what if I fail?” Tears of frustration building in your eyes. Tomorrow was the day you presented your capstone project, and reasonably you were stressing.

Eren had been doing his best to calm your nerves all week, giving you massages, making your meals, and helping you study. It just wasn't enough for you though, you were too nervous.

“Baby, you're not gonna fail, you're the smartest girl I know, and we've been over it a thousand times, I know you're gonna do great you just have to believe in yourself, baby”

“Let's just go over it one more time” You stood, immediately silenced when he lifted you up and laid you back down on the bed, hovering over you as he started to litter kisses onto your face.

“Stop worrying ma, you'll do great, just relax” His grip tight as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, spreading them to make room for himself.

This simple action having your heart race. Despite being together for almost a year nothing happened between you two. Mainly because you both wanted to build a relationship that wasn't based on sex, but also because you were nervous. He was your first everything, and as gut wrenching it was to say, you weren't his.

“Eren” Your breath hitched as his bulge brushed against the crotch of the thin fabric that made up your pajama shorts.

“You gotta relax, ma. You gone let me help you?” He murmured as he kissed his way down your neck.

Maybe this is what you needed, your anxiety to just flow out of you with a mind boggling orgasm.

“Yes” You released a breath.

“Good girl” He smirked kissing you once more before he undressed you, savoring the way you squirmed underneath him.

“You're so beautiful, mami” He whispered as he took his time exploring every inch of your body with his hands and mouth before stopping right in front of your pajama clad pussy, traces of your arousal seeping through the fabric.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your pants as he tugged them down, your clit slightly peeking out from behind your glistening folds.

“She's so pretty, baby,” He groaned, his thumbs spreading your folds apart as he pressed light kisses to your clit.

“Eren” You silently begged for more friction.

Indulging in your neediness he licked up a long stripe of your arousal. Strings of the fluid mixture connecting his tongue to your pussy.

“Shit, baby, you taste so good.” He dug his fingers into your thighs, burying his face into your folds.

His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing you with each lap before sucking softly, tongue swirling around the bud as your hips bucked. The flat muscle slurping up long stripes of your pussy.

“Fuck, Eren oh my god” You heaved, hands pushing the loose hair out of his face.

He hummed in approval, the vibration sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sound of his name leaving your lips only spurred him on as he sucked harder, teeth grazing the sensitive bud lightly.

“I'm so close, pa” You whined, looking down at him, his eyes closed as he ate you like a starved man.

Your thighs closed around his head as a response to the tightening knot in your tummy, the bite he delivered to your inner thigh releasing a yelp from your glossy lips as you opened them wide. The glare he sent your way turning you on more than it should.

“Let go mama, I'm here” His low voice muffled by your folds as he added a thick digit into your sopping pussy, walls clamping around it at the curl of his fingers and his tounge tracing a zigzag pattern on your clit, before he sucked on the pulsing bud.

“Papa” You cried as he slurped up the juices flowing from your pussy.

“Wait, pa, I can't- too much” You protested, thighs clamping around his head as he lapped at your pussy, sliding in another digit.

“Just one more ma, you taste so good” He licked the insides of your thighs, before pushing them up to your chest.

“And don't close your fucking legs again”

˚୨୧⋆.

“Did so good for me, pretty” He panted after ripping two more orgasms from you. Kissing and licking his way up your body, before he engulfed you in a passionate kiss, your taste lingering on his tongue.

“Need you inside, now. Please papa” You begged.

“Are you sure?” Despite just sucking your soul from your pussy, he was still a sweetheart. Green eyes rapidly scanning your face for any sense of doubt.

“Yes, please” You tugged on his shirt revealing the sight sheen of sweat on his toned muscles.

“I'll go slow, but all you have to say is stop and I will okay?” He reached down into his sweats, stroking himself before pulling them down. Boy was he hung, prominent veins along the circumference of his dick, and his red tip leaking pre-cum from the occasional grind he delivered to the mattress while having you cream on his fingers.

“Okay” You let out a shaky breath, nerves rising as he rubbed his tip through your folds, collecting your slick before lining up with your entrance.

“Don't worry baby, just relax for me” He whispered in the crook of your neck as he pushed himself in.

The stretch was borderline unbearable as you felt him slide into your walls. He was thick, and having a hard time moving an inch without you squeezing him so tight.

“Relax princess, let me in” He whispered, taking note of your nails breaking the skin of his back, and your furrowed eyebrows as you tried to adjust.

“M’trying s’jus too big” You practically cried.

“I know, mama. Wanna stop?” He pressed loving kisses to your forehead.

“No, no I can take it. Just keep going” He went slowly, taking his time to minimize the discomfort, and look for any signs of pain as he nestled in between your legs, tip brushing against your cervix.

“Doing so good for me, princess. Just relax” He soothed once you gave him the green light to move.

Before you knew it he was whispering nasty things into your ear as he pounded into you, your second orgasm from his thrusts building in your lower stomach.

“Taking this dick so good for me, ma. Fat ass pussy squeezing me so tight” He grunted, tits bouncing at his feverish movements.

The room was hot and filled with your moans, and slapping skin as Eren pounded into you. He was slowly losing control, relishing in the way your pussy welcomed him in, the white creamy stickiness at the base of his cock having his brain go fuzzy. His only objective to have you cum on his dick over and over again till you were fucked senseless.

“Papa t-too much- mhmph too deep” You cried, despite wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

“S'too deep? Thought you could take it, baby. Thought you were my good girl” He faked his concern, bullying his dick into your warm walls.

“I am” You pouted, nails digging into his biceps as he pressed down on your chubby tummy, smirking when he felt his dick poking his hand.

“Then nut on your dick, mama. Be a good girl for daddy” The dam breaking immediately when he rubbed tight circles on your clit.

“Shit” He moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he painted your walls with his sticky cum.

“Did so good, baby” He whispered in between kisses as he fucked his load back into you.

“S-sensitive, pa” You whined as you pushed his hips away, earning a pinch to your hand and fake pout.

“I know” He faked sympathy, pushing your legs up against your chest.

“But I want you to do well tomorrow, lemme make sure I fucked all the anxiety outta you. Yeah?”

wrote for my babes who needed an eren during their finals week cause ik i needed one ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

anywayssss i gotta question. does anyone have any tips on how to length the smutty scenes i feel as if they're too short but im not 100% sure on how to add more detail. any feedback is appreciated mwah<333

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