#and damn these things just SUCK up the paint | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 1 month ago

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CHERRY-POP!

Synopsis. He’s losing more than his v!rginíty - he’s losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, vírgínity loss (JJK men), PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, first times, p talking, proposals, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, GOJO’S POWERS, manhandIing (Nanami), overstím, rough, true form Sukuna, dp, making them whímper, spítting, chokíng, p sIapping, mentions of heirs, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Y’all asked and aIpha provided hehehe, also Ino girlies y’all are FED today <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Was a 10/10

“I-I’m really…damn. Damn.” Just about all that he can gasp. Toji’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs at the sheer tremors lacing his baritone voice, on the edge of shattering into a million pieces. He’s dragging a fat thumb where your teary slit was bulging. In awe. “Damn.”

And your honeyed giggles are enough to make him buck his rummaging length with a shuddering groan. Pumping you full of more solid, mindless inches. “S’that all you can hah- say, Toji?”

Hell, if Toji Fushiguro could coherently speak - if he could even think - then he’d already be waxing poetic about how your that sweltering hot heaven between your legs was driving him mad. Was having his life flashing before his very eyes-

How had he lived for so long without this?

You’re letting out a tiny gasp - only too-late does Toji’s melty mind realize that he’d pathetically babbled all that out loud.

Taking the lewd opportunity to punish your parted lips with a slow wad of his syrupy saliva, “D-doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two…”

God, if Toji hadn’t confessed to you just prior that he was a raging virgin then you would have laughed in his face right this very second.

Because he was acting like anything but.

His rock-hard cock was vicious, bullying right between your pretty pursed folds with inch after throbbing inch that scratches your sweet spots just right. Fuck- he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight. Slamming a hand down onto the rickety headboard to stop from jackhammering his fat cock over and over into you already.

“Y-you’re seriously…” he’s letting his voice peter out. Toji’s curling a few thick fingers around his hefty hilt, feeding your drooling hole more. More. “-seriously sucking th-the life outta me.”

He’s moving at such a sleazy pace, tracing one calloused thumb down your driveling lips, all soaked and sopping with your saturated juices. “Heh, not bad for a f-fucking virgin, huh?” Before popping it into your mouth for you to suck on like your favorite lolly. “C’mon- say somethin’, ma.”

“S-so slow, Toji-” you’re huffing and puffing in a way that makes him grunt, trembly legs falling further and further open by the second at the stretch. The way his large, bulbous tip was brushing against your very inner walls had you dizzy. “-give me more.”

“Wh-when I told ya to talk it wasn’t to talk with your hah- damn pussy, woman.”

And fuck.

Fuuuuck- Toji was more affected than he would like to admit.

Much, much more.

Because just the incoherent mess of jumbles falling from those pretty lips of yours had him throwing his head back with a moan. Big, beefy biceps flexing when he’s battering his rock-hard tip into your gooey depths. And shit-

He didn’t read about this online.

Never ever thought that the Toji Fushiguro would find his mean scar dropping with his jaw in raw, carnal shock when your pussy lips dribble a generous load of his own cum. Eyes veering to the very back of his head with he just barely manages to disguise as a regular one of his eyerolls.

Fuck- fuck did he cum already?

“D-did you-”

“Shut up. Holy shit-” A set of rugged fingers clasp bruisingly around your waist, another skating about midway up your tummy and pressing. Down hard. Now until your slobbering cunt was painting numerous creamy rings upon rings around Toji’s hefty hilt. “Damn, what a pussy you got on ya. Is yer cunt jus’ extra filthy, ma?”

You’re smacking his cushiony pecs at his words, whining, “Y-you’re so nasty–”

“Me?” His greedy green eyes widen, “Callin’ me nasty w-when your pussy is the one spillin’ all over me? Hngh- jus’ look at her, doll.”

There’s nothing else that you could look at - because Toji’s flexing arms were caging you into your cozy little cove. Dark brows marrying together in pure bliss when he’s dragging his cock out of your slippery cunt with a wet plop! Letting your puckered hole slide a drizzling coating of cum.

And then plugging you back in - and then again. In and out. In and out in and-

“And whose f-fault is that?”

“Hers.”

Even through your stupidly fucked mind you could catch the way that Toji’s voice was dipped in pure loving. A hypnotized grin leering all over his face - you could ask him to bring you the moon right now and he would.

Hunching his entire heaving body over to move back inside your snug walls mercilessly, he nips down your tender earlobe. Grunting, “Heh, I read ya nasty pussy would ngh- like this.”

And he’s seeping in a few fingers to swirl around the ounces of white that stained your bulging cunt, around and around until it was thoroughly coating his dripping wet fingers. Tracing just enough over your pulsing clit. And you thought he would bring it up for you to suck - you thought.

Before he’s placing them swiftly into his mouth and whining - yes, whining. The clingy grip of your softened walls had him so gone.

“P-pretend ya never fuckin’ heard that-” Toji’s snapping right before you can open your teasing mouth, and his high cheekbones color in the most innocent shade of rosy pink. Snarling, “-s’not m-my fault- it’s hers.”

Yeah, because your dripping cunt was way too much for a virgin to handle - it had him going mad.

It had him rummaging even deeper into your pliant cunt, tenderizing your poor g-spots into the perfect bullseyes that he just couldn’t miss. All the way to the base. Toji’s making the bed creak with each one of his ruts, sweat slicking down the middle of his curved spine at his staggering pace.

And he wasn’t even tired - not a single ounce. You think he’d be tired while buried in a blissful cunt like this?

Monstrous stamina pushing and pushing his weepy tip down in streaming slides across your sweet spots. Without a singular warning, his mountainous palms snatch your trembly legs up to throw them over his broad shoulders.

“Sh-shit, the stretch–” you’re mewling when he’s easily folding you in half like a lawnchair. Merciless. Snickering.

Absolutely no shred of regret or apology when he grins, “Y’know…I also read online about th-this thing called a…mating press.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - SWEETENER!

“Like this?”

And you’ve never heard your stoic boyfriend ever sound like this before - with his chest heaving in gasps, gluttonous eyes locked down on your arched back, lips wobbling like the very fate of the world depended entirely on the next few words to fall from your cockdrunken mouth.

Fuck- Nanami was so staggeringly massive that you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even jolt back to your senses until he’s peppering a drool-worthy trail of kisses down your spine. Echoing, strained. “Never done this before- I-is this okay, my love?”

“Yes! Hngh-” you’re managing to blink back the pearly tears welling up in your eyes. “Y-you can start to move, Kento.”

He’s placing a few more innocent pecks by the corner of your mouth before doing so, and just one singular movement - a singular inch inside your pretty cunt - had Nanami Kento hypnotized.

Breath hitching.

You’re almost concerned when the first smooching thrust right into your awaiting g-spot had his muscled thighs shivering. Honeypool eyes wide, cheeks flushed, ruined. Frantically scrambling to clasp his thick fingers around your tender throat, Nanami heaves out a groan and pulls.

Feeding you the uncharacteristically ruthless inches of his furious cock, you’re being hauled about halfway down the velvety bed as if you’re some kind of doll. Pumped stupidly full of his fat girth, you’re not sure if that thunderous throb! throb! throb! was from his angry cock or from you.

Head so light, “Ken–”

“Wh-what- oh…” Immediately, Nanami’s letting his hand drop from your neck as if it burned, sorrowfully kissing near those faint bruises. “I’m so sorry, my love- I didn’t realize. I won’t-”

“No no, baby–” Craning your head around to stop his stern mouth from ranting any further, you give him a smug smirk that you can feel the effects of. Feeling his sopping wet twitch into your bruised spots in a gloopy wave of scorching precum. “-I like it.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

You shouldn’t have said that - fuck, you shouldn’t have said a word. Because that’s all it takes for Nanami to smack his sharp hip bones into you like he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

And if the first tentative thrust into your cunt was magic - then this. Fuck, this was a miracle in real life.

Your cunt is so talkative with him - slurring out a few saturated sploshes every time he’s pumping your gummy depths full of himself.

Pummelling with very pound, and if you didn’t know any better then you would have thought that Nanami was fucking you like he hated you. Sloppy. Addicted. You’re feeling the slosh of his sticky pre inside you with every shuddering rut.

Languidly licking up the overwhelmed tears in your eyes, “M-m’sorry, darling I…” Interrupted by a syrupy hug of your walls like clingfilm, he was spearing open your insides so good. Molding himself into every nook and cranny inside you. Virginity be damned, he was having his fill for years. “-I can’t seem to stop. I-I just need-”

Words couldn’t even explain the sheer fucking heaven that Nanami was in right now. This was what you felt like? This?

And you’re not even sure if he’s in control when he’s pushing down on your shaky body with one of his thick palms, right until you’re splayed out like some slut on the king-sized mattress. Hiking up one thick thigh to pressurize his thwacking pushes even harder, and the other to press down on your head with his foot.

“Sh-shit you’re so deep, Ken–” your fingers thrash against the silken sheets at the even meaner angle. “I can feel you all the way-”

Right before you can finish your drawling sentence - almost as if Nanami didn’t want you to, couldn’t even handle the thought - his massive palm rummages from down under to glide down the thickened inflation where he was ruining you. Where he would feel the wet swipes of steaming hot precum being poured right into your womb. Where he could feel himself.

And he’s trying to reign back some control - to remember all the tips that he’d read in those books. But god was it difficult when Nanami’s rubbing his fat thumb against your clit and making you whine.

Over and over and-

“D-don’t run away–” Nanami’s voice cracks towards the very end - snapping you out of your lustful haze to realize that oh shit, you had been inching away. The stimulation so much. “M’yours- m’all yours. And I need you, my love, I need more-”

And right before you can correct your posture, knocking your hips in sodden glides down his swollen length; Nanami’s snatching his speckled yellow tie right off somewhere across the bed and wringing it around your wrists tightly. Pinning them together over your back before leveraging it with one curl of his fingers to drag you back into his erection.

Nanami’s breath hitches, head finding itself thrown backwards in an instant. He’s leaning further backwards to drink in the heavenly sight of your ass quavering against his hips, of the way his skin was reddening now.

“Th-theree we go, y-yer gonna take my fuckin’ cock. Aren’t you, my wife?”

You’re not sure what you’re gasping more at - the roughened lack of sanity in his words, or at the way he was calling you his wife. Again and again like a little mantra into the crook of your neck - all that he could say right now.

“Such a p-pretty cunt- n’ a pretty wife…” Hushed out beside your ears at a feverish pace. “Y-you have me addicted so, soo…” Addicted enough to not be able to finish his sentence. Nanami leaves a wet peck at your lips, and an even wetter smack! on your clit.

And when you cum, you’re seeing white.

Unsure of what’s even happening before Nanami’s fucking you through each peaking wave of your high, edging it deeper and deeper. You’re gasping at the feeling of his cock twitching vigorously inside. Harshly. Dangerously.

“K-keep those legs open, darling.” He’s crushing you to his brawny body so tight. “M’gonna haaah- make this sweet cunt overspill.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Good girl never cry.

Geto Suguru never saw himself like this - feeling so blissfully good.

He never saw himself with fucking tears beading at the very corners of his glassy eyes, his maw sagging animalistically open when his prespiration-slicked body glissades against yours. Yours. Shit- all he could think about was that clingy pussy of yours and you, you, you-

“Oh, what’s this?” Rumbling voice smooth against your ear, but all you can manage out is a pathetic few hahs! when Geto’s body never stops. His grueling hips don’t even slow down to let you catch your breath. “Heh, am I th-the one losing my virginity or are ngh- you, gorgeous?”

You’re huffing and puffing in a way that he can’t help but find so cute, feeling his lips curl up into a heady smile. “N-no need to be so mean, Sugu–”

“Tch.”

Without a split-second of hesitation - or so much as even a warning - he’s wrangling your legs over two broad shoulders. Biceps flexing when looping your two ankles around his flushed neck, pinning them together with a gruff, “Lock them.”

And it’s all you can manage to do when he’s folding down, down, down in half. Making your calves burn with sheer fatigue, your sloppy entrance stretches around the curve of Geto’s swollen cock. It was such a sight to behold - your succulent pussy lips drooling all down to his too-tight balls, talking back to him in the most slurping squelches with every jittery ram.

Geto can feel himself trailing a translucent line of drool already - embarrassing.

“Mhm—” Your entire body vibrates with his severe groans, nodding along with his sleazy eyes pointed downwards. And the angle helps him spit out in your slack mouth, snickering. “Th-think I like her better.”

Your jaw drops - and he’s taking this perfect chance to smush your mouth into an embarrassing pout with two fingers squishing your cheeks together. Lolling his head downwards to pry open your mouth and suck on your tongue.

“Hmpf! Then you can ngh- kiss ‘her’ instead-” Slow. Drooling. Such a filthy French kiss that Geto breaks with a wet smooch!

Pecking up your stubborn tears. How cute.

“Oh, I will…” Comes his answer, along with a few more thunking collisions into your rawly bruised g-spot as if he was reminding you just who you were dealing with - virgin or not. “You think j-jus’ because m’a hah- virgin, I don’t know how to handle such a s-sweet pussy?”

Maybe you nod, maybe you shake your head - you’re not even sure before Geto’s spitting out a wet wad of saliva that hits his ready digits with a wet thwack! Smearing right along your overly stuffed pussy, where he was funneling you so full of him.

Gruffing out, “First m’gonna f-fuck her until she’s ngh- overspilling. Gonna ruin her for a-anyone else-” Twirling his rude thumb in a wet grind on the hood of your plump kiss, he’s leaving a few wet swats. “Then m’gonna taste her- treat her a lil’ while she’s already ah dripping with me. And then…” Breath hitching while he’s crashing a kiss into you once more. “-m’gonna do it all over again.”

“How do you even-”

He’s babbling nonsense now - or maybe truths. “Y’have no idea how much I’ve ah- imagined this, gorgeous– kept thinkin’ of it every night.”

“R-really?” you gasp.

“Mhm– s-since the day I met ya. I’d imagine doin’ a little bit of hah-” Giving your mouth an innocent peck, “-this. Then some of-” Then a bite. “This.” And then the most slow drag of his hips down your walls, “And mostly this.”

God, he had half the mind to know that maybe you shouldn’t be hearing these. But Geto didn’t care. He couldn’t. Not when every drilling pound had him giddy, “Always wan’ed you to be all mine y’know- my lil’ cum dump, aren’t ya?”

You’re somehow muffling out - seeping through each labored breath. “Yes- yes yes yes- fuck- m’so close, Sugu- M’gonna-”

“Of course ya are.” He’s rolling his eyes, acting for all the world like his painfully swollen balls weren’t just aching to cum already. Hips getting sloppier and sloppier, as do his words. “She told me- h-hurry up already. Cum on my fuckin’ cock.”

And Geto thinks he tried to hold back how pathetically pussydrunken he was on your gorgeous cunt, he thinks he tried to do a good job of it.

Tried.

But as soon as your orgasm hits you at full force - oh, that’s when he’s allowing his eyes to mask over with a bleary veil of tears. Drip, drip, dripping down in hot splatters onto your skin- it feels so good.

And Geto bites down hard into the crook of your neck, muffling those rasping whimpers curdling at the back of his throat when he cums. When he feels his ears pop! lids flashing his vision with pure white.

“S-so much–” you’re mewling when he’s dumping out such voluminous ropes of seed. Thick, sticky, sloshing down in neverending rivulets. He’s fucking you through each and every one, mashing into your very g-spot- “There’s ah! S’overspilling, Suguru-”

Overspilling.

Oh, Geto would never admit it but he couldn’t even bear to turn his head downwards at the exact sight that you were talking about. No.

It was already embarrassing enough to tumble into his second orgasm just from your sentence. Pearly white canines digging into the mound of your flesh so hard that you think he might just draw blood. The muscles in Geto’s jaw ticks when his bawling divot pushes out another few sputtering smacks! of cum against your sweetest spots.

“Y-you…” he’s gasping out, barely even audible. And as soon as Geto’s raising his dampened face from the haven at your neck, you’re practically gasping at the fucked-out expression on his face. Eyes unfocused, skin a blotchy red, hair curtaining his face and making it almost impossible to tell where he was looking. “I really came…inside- hah- inside your pretty pussy.”

In awe.

Geto’s moving lazily - like he’s in a pool of molasses - when he dances a hand down to your beading cunt. Probing a few fingers back in to feed your parched pussy the remnants of excess cum. “C-can I- can I do it again?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-is this heaven?”

Choso didn’t mean to say that out loud - in fact, he’d probably rather die than actually babble it out to you.

But how could he not when you were smearing your syrupy sweet folds all open for him that way? Two of your fingers sliding between your legs with a purring, “Why dontcha find out, Cho–?”

It should’ve been embarrassing the way he’s tripping and stumbling over the expanse of the plush king-sized bed to loom dangerously closer to you. To softly guide your hand away with a nudge of his reddened, aching cock. Choso’s practically begging on his own two knees when he gasps- heaves, “I-I can put it inside?” Still in wonderment. He must be dreaming. Slurring up a sopping wet drag of his fat, ruby tip just to confirm. “C-can I really?”

“Mhm–” you’re nodding. “Careful not to hurt your-”

But you’re not given the privilege to finish your sentence. Hell, you’re not given the privilege to even finish taking in a deep inhale before all of it comes rushing back out in the most feverish gasp.

Hurtling out of your suddenly bowing body when you’re suddenly being so split-apart. Choso’s ambushing tip bullying your pussy lips wide agape, he’s fucking you so full with just the tiniest, mindless little gyrations of his flexible hips just to fit inside.

Because Choso might be a virgin - but with his staggering size, he didn’t even have to try to hit your earliest sweet spots.

“Move your hand, baby, I-I…”

That’s when you’re glimpsing at your poor boyfriend, who’s already so utterly wrecked. The very moment he’s slid into your snug cunt, it had him seeing stars. Bursts of pleasure exploding at his sensitive cock, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso’s grasping a hand around a few of his sweat-dampened locks and pulling to jolt himself back to reality.

When he blinks his teary eyes back open, you swear his pupils had turned into hearts. Whispering, “M’in love with you oh-”

Both of you are snapping downwards your heads in unison when something swelteringly hot floods your insides. Creamy and sloshing like treacle down your walls - all it took was once look up at Choso’s prettily burning blush to realize that he’d cum as soon as he put it in.

“Ch-Choso-”

“Shit- shit- m’sorry, baby–” he’s grunting out, hips moving by themselves in filthy little collisions that jerk you on the bed. He’s so surprisingly hands-on, fingers gliding up and down your arched back to massage all your tender spots. “I didn’t mean to c-cum so early- shit- m’sorry–”

It’s barely even possible to form a coherent though with the way he was fucking into you so sloppily. He can’t stop. He won’t. No rhythm or reason - just pure, primal need dripping from every plummet of his thickened cock into your gooey depths.

You’re prattling out softly, “It’s okay, baby.” Running your hands through the wet strands of his bangs sticking to his prespired forehead, Choso’s face lights up into an intoxicated smile at your candied cooing. “K-keep going-”

As if to illustrate your point, you’re bucking your hips off the bed to meet his - to strike your abdomen down in a stinging slam! The sticky smack of skin-on-skin makes you both hiss, and Choso’s bludgeoning tip drives even deeper in a bashful kiss against your velvety cervix.

“O-oh…” His jaw drops slack, a slight trickle of drool running its way down at this point. Without another words, two strong arms wrap themselves around your body, and he’s angling his hips urgently - desperately - to replicate that gummy recoil. Again. And again. And again and again. “H-how can it feel so hngh- good? How- why, baby?”

Shit, Choso’s babbling nonsense and he knows he’s babbling nonsense.

Which is why once you’re pressing gentle pecks all over his face - from his forehead, to his blushing cheekbones, all down to his wobbly lips - he’s now sure he’s in heaven. And you’re his own personal angel.

Panting out hot puffs against your mouth, you could savor his sugary sweet taste already. “Th-think m’gonna cum again, baby- oh, I- can I cum inside? Please? Please, baby?”

“I-inside, please-” Your words tremble out in nothing but mere mewls, curling one of your arms around his neck to haul your dear boyfriend over even closer. He lets you - lets himself be so used. “-d-don’t miss, okay?”

How could he ever when you’re asking him so sweetly like this?

Making him wrack out a heavy shudder all the way from his dizzy head to his twitchy tip, spurting out a few buttery dredges of pre. So close. Choso slips and slides his palms down onto your thighs to spread them wide open for him. Murmuring out a throaty, “Won’t miss- won’t miss. D-don’t you worry, baby, m’not gonna miss.” like a mantra. Hypnotized.

Splattering out thick helpings of cum that flood your gaping entrance, you can feel your snug walls inflating with each ram of his cock. Swirling down, down, down to knock at your womb- Choso is so messy.

Supposedly helping clean you up by dragging a hand to your tummy, bearing down hard right on top of the very spot he knew would make you spill out a syrupy puddle of his seed. Painting a creamy white ring all over his twitching base.

“L-look, baby- I didn’t miss.” He chuckles - chuckles. So in bliss that he doesn’t even realize the way his entire body was shivering with the convulsions still. “Ah, y-you took my virginity and I didn’t even hngh- miss.”

Barely even lucid when he uses that superhuman strength of his to flip the two of you over, lounging on his back against the now-damp sheets. But Choso doesn’t feel disgusted - not even close - he’s staring up at you through heavy, droopy eyes. Pussydrunk.

And he can only manage out two words.

“Ride me?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - S-s-stutter?!

“Tch, don’t think this is going to get the hah- king to bow down to ya, lil’ human.” Sukuna seethes at the sight of you on all slutty fours - and it would be a whole lot more threatening had it not been for the way his graveling voice cracks. The way all he can let out is a string of slurring swears when your preslicked pussy lips glide across his angrily hard cocks.

“Mhm– whatever you say, Kuna-” your voice was sweetly agitating him, making his flushed heads perk up in feral little jolts. Desperate to bully himself inside your sopping entrance. “Just give me- both-”

With a sudden clasp of his vice-like fingers around your waist, you’re being shoved against the plush mattress of the royal bed. Bouncing up softly against those marshmallowy pillows and caged against Sukuna’s hulking body.

You’re breathing out a little, “It would be easier for you if-”

“I know.” He’s cutting you off, devilishly red eyes straying off into the distance and away from anywhere near your gaze. Regal cheekbones a beet red when he’s finally looking at you, “This-” One of his clawed palms cup your face, “-this is better.”

And of course the king of curses isn’t going to fucking admit it when he wants to see every one of your fucked-out expressions.

Of course he’s not going to let you ponder on his uncharacteristic actions for too long before swiping a wet skim down your slit. Pooling up your slick juices down his pulsing cocks, one of his massive palms jostle and smear that translucent gloss down his lengths. The other prodding at your winking entrance - “Heh, take a deep breath- doesn’t matter that m’a fucking virgin, you’re the one that needs ta brace yerself, brat.”

Fuck- it doesn’t matter how much you might’ve readied yourself because Sukuna’s matchingly thick lengths we always going to split you apart until you felt like you should sob.

It was such a delicious stretch - probing at every one of your sugary spots, his intrusion was working your tight channel open in a way you’d never even thought possible before. Spreading your tight rim of muscle gapingly open as you milk every copious inch of his double shafts.

“Would ya look at that–” Sukuna’s drawling out, and his eyes widen with a tinge of genuine surprise. Long tongue darting outwards to lick up that embarrassing slick of dribble escaping his awe-struck lips. “Sucking me up so well ahhh- s’like your cute pussy’s made f��me. Aren’t ya?”

It’s maddening.

It’s filthy the way that Sukuna’s leaning his sleazy head even closer to drink up every sodden noise that emanates from your cunt when he’s filling himself inside your cunt deeper. And deeper. Like his length was never-ending.

Every squelch, every slurp that makes him chuckle. Wafting one of his dark, overgrown nails across the bumpy outline of his drilling tips on your tummy. “Oh, damn t-talkative, too-”

Your veins thunder rapidly with the sheer lewd embarrassment of having Sukuna listening and conversing with your sloppy cunt. And the feeling makes you let out a whiny huff and clench-

Oh.

He’d never felt like this.

“Sh-shit- marry me.”

Someone’s gasping - and it takes you only a few lazy seconds after Sukuna’s bludgeoning the entirety of his two dicks into your cunt to realize that it wasn’t you. Blinking back your already overwhelmed tears, you open your mouth-

“You didn’t hear th-”

“Wh-what was that?”

“Nothing- oh-” Another clench. Another gushing spurt of his steamy precum dripping down your cervix. “-fuck you evil, evil little…” Sukuna’s baring his sharpened canines in a snarl - but that doesn’t do much to deter your grin when he’s practically shivering with stimulation above you. Stuttering. “I said- m-marry me.”

It’s a command more than a question, and it’s spewing out from Sukuna’s lips with every spearhead into your poor, bruised cunt. Pressing wet peck after peck on your cervix, your g-spot - anywhere and everywhere his thorough cocks could reach - as if he was trying to convince you to say yes.

“It ah! feels so good, Kuna-” you’re dragging out from your shot throat, mouth clamping to a close around a hard bite on his muscular, tattooed shoulders.

“Easy there on the ngh- merchandise.” He rolls his eyes, faintly going cross-eyed when your hips start bouncing back and forth back and forth back and forth in an attempt to match his pressurized cadence. “Though-” Sukuna’s gulping, your cunt had his mind in a frenzy, has this all-powerful sorcerer held hostage. “I guess I should cut some ngh- slack for the future queen.”

Ah, yes.

Sukuna could see it already - the only vision in his hazy mind getting clearer and clearer with each punishing thrust into your gummy depths, with each powerful drag of your hips to slam and bounce against his. The vision of you adorned in his robes and sitting on his throne, with a few little pink-haired heirs too…

And he’s getting ahead of himself - he’s completely, irrevocably pussydrunk at this point.

Out of control when he’s gliding one calloused hand across your tummy, where you’d be round and glowing for him should you wish. The second of his hands dipping cozily down for him to kiss your plump clit with his second mouth. Grinning, “F-for the future queen and…the mother of my kids.”

And when Sukuna’s cumming it’s with that exact image in mind - what a beautiful momma you’d be. What a beautiful cunt you have when you’re all slathered in a thick coating of his seed.

All creamy and glomping out from between your puffed-up slit, you’re cumming at the sheer wave of it filling you up all inside. Until you were so stuffed you felt like you could burst. Seeing stars explode behind your eyes, and your ears thunder with the ricochet of Sukuna’s slowly softening cocks. “B-better not tell anyone about…that, my wife.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - LOVE love

“Please-” Ino’s staring up deeply into your drunken eyes like he never wanted to look away. Never could when you were straddled all prettily on top of him, riding the fucking soul out of his poor, inexperienced cock. “-j-jus’ the tip- nhgh-”

One taste of your pretty pussy and he was gone.

Your hands are sliding greedily down his toned body, making themselves at home right over his pretty pectorals. Swirling over his rosy nipples, “Baby– we’re way past jus’ the ngh- tip.”

You were?

Shit, Ino’s practically grappling with that mushy part of himself to tear his glassy gaze down to where you’re swallowing him up into your gummy heaven. Breath hitching in a grovelling rasp at the way your puffy pussy lips were mounting wide open on his fat girth. Streaming down a waterfall of your glossy slick that covers him in a glistening coating.

Fuck, he suddenly couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“O-oh.” Ino’s mouth sags open with a shuddering gasp, and he can’t help but grin. He can’t help but chuckle in a deep, wet way that makes his furious divot bawl out copious torrents of thick pre. “You are. G-guess you officially took my hah- virginity, huh, pretty?”

Guiding a few slender fingers to give the jiggling fat of your ass a sharp smack! You can only keen when Ino bucks his hips up further and further - harder. Every second sending him into a frenzy.

“T-Taku…” you’re whining out. Fingers glissading across his warm, sweat-sheened collarbones and curling around his tender throat. “I th-thought I told you to let me do all the ah- work…”

Oh, he’s leaning upwards in a sudden surge to kiss up against your lips in a wet glide. Humming confidently like he wasn’t fucking ruined every time your hips came crashing down. “But I can’t help it- can’t- ah- wan’ you to fuckin’ use me.”

Ino didn’t know what he was doing - didn’t even know what he was thinking when he’s curving his powerful back to send a riotous few crashes against your bruising g-spot. To fuck up into you so harsh that it leaves the bed frame protesting in creaks.

Dancing his own digits to intertwine with yours on his neck - Ino makes you squeeze. “Tighter. Harder. C’mon now- f-fuck me, pretty.”

You have no choice but to obey - to slide back and forth on his uprightly curved cock, the angle was dizzying with its collisions against the bullseye of that spot. His heavy balls smack into your ass until you were sure it bruised. And still- still it wasn’t enough.

Stil, Ino finds himself veering a trembly hand up to your plump clit. Leaving a sodden, stinging smack!

“W-woah…” His voice just cracks, brown strands of hair falling onto his sweat-glazed forehead when he’s jolting. “You just got- s-so soaked- tell me tell me how I hngh- do that again-”

So desperate. So eager to please.

The adoration was just bursting from his half-lidded eyes and right through every sparring jut of his cock. Clashing. Kissing. Sopping French kisses into your treacly walls that make you squeal. “J-jus’ right there- hngh-”

“There? There, r-right?” He’s so pretty when he’s batting his long lashes up at you, dewy eyes practically fluttering shut at the way your cunt was clinging onto him. Needy. “A-and what about this? What about ngh- here?”

How tentative…so cute.

“Don’t be shy, baby–” Your voice was honey, so sweetened that it makes him bite back a few pathetic whimpers. A furiously innocent blush sunrising its way into his cheeks, “-you can hah- do whatever you want.”

Whatever.

Fuck, the words are barely out of your mouth before Ino’s clapping his massively splayed out hands onto the curve of your ass. He’s copping a generous grope while seeping his full length in staggering thrusts, and he’s so flexible. So smooth with his movements.

Gifting another palm print that raises against your tender flesh, Ino has the audacity to bear you with a sleazy grin as soon as you strengthen your chokehold on him. Cutting off his airway, yet, he gives you a look that told you he was so in love. Making him choke out a little, “Yeah- yeah jus’ like that. N-need you to fucking ruin my life.”

You’re pecking his lips with such a pout, “Careful, or I might jus’ ngh- tie you up next time.”

And Ino doesn’t know if it’s the idea of a next time or the idea of, well, that but he’s letting his eyes veer crossed and head loll pathetically backwards. A languid drizzle of drool escaping his lips when he wrenches open his mouth and whines, “M’cumming- sh-shit I’m-”

It’s such a melty heaven between your legs.

And Ino’s oozing out pearly gumdrops of cum into your womb, cumming and cumming so hard that he can’t stop it spilling out. And he doesn’t even want to because- shit, he’s never going to cum into his hand ever again.

Doesn’t have to.

Because when you’re finally reaching your high, your sloshing walls clamping around him was addictive. Those moans of yours so pretty that he’s almost wishing he’d brought out his phone to record them as his favorite song.

“I love you-” He’s feeling every velvety throb of your pulse, every clench that his solidly pussydrunken mind would love to think is specifically to suck up every beading sob from his cock. “I love you I love you I- god, I fuckin’ love you, ma.” Feeling every splatter dripping down your cushiony walls. And that makes him cum again- again and again. Orgasms crashing into one another. Until his shaft can only upstart with a few beads of nothing. Cumming dry-

“W-wait are you on the pill, pretty?”

“...”

♡ GOJO SATORU - POCKETPUSSY3000

“Th-this is nothing like my PocketPussy3000…” The great Gojo Satoru can only gape at the way your sultry cunt was swallowing up his red, swollen cock. Can only grip you into a full nelson so bruising. So addicted. Every disappearing inch having his skin burst in a wave of tiny blue bolts of lightning. “Th-this is so much better.”

Better indeed, because the strongest was a virgin.

You’re pushing away the strands of white that cling onto his sweaty forehead, “I-I should ngh- stop you right now for comparing me to that thing.”

And it was just a little joke, really.

But you didn’t anticipate the way that your poor boyfriend would shatter like the world just ended.

His pretty pink lips parting in a slurring gasp, dewy blue eyes practically bulging out of his head. Babbling out something drawling and raw into the crook of your neck, “No- no no no–”

Two of his slender digits dip down to smear your swollen pussy lips wide open, scissoring your sloppy hole elastically open to shovel himself all the way until he was poking into your springy cervix.

“Y-you don’t mean that right?” He’s breathing. Hissing when your snug walls suck his fingerpads up with every lazy - urging pump. The double penetration making you keen. “P-please don’t don’t take this pretty pussy away from me- I jus- got- her-” He’s pressing a flurry of innocent kisses down your cheek. Over and over until you’re cracking a smile. “-I’ll throw it out- th-throw that stupid thing out. Don’t need it anymore when I have hngh you.”

Gojo’s absolutely melting at the sheer sex.

So hot and cozy inside you that he’s fucking hypnotized. Drool driveling down the corner of his mouth when your plushy walls are molding all around his throbbing girth.

God, he truly was the strongest - such a massive cock that he didn’t even have to try to press wet little brandings of precum right near that spot.

“S-squeeze around me, sweetheart–” Gojo’s dragging his thumb sloppily all over your clit, and you get the distinct feeling that he’s making such a mess on purpose. “-please- I r-read about this once- can you…”

Ah, Gojo’s head slumps backwards into the silken pillows with a soft thud! Just one gripping cling of your velvety walls around his cock had him seeing stars.

Had him seeing his future with you. Had him thinking that he might just be content to die right between your pretty thighs. Or worse - cum early.

Now, the strongest couldn’t cum before his girl - not even if it was his first time. No, no, no. The strongest had to bite down on one of his wobbly rose lips before any more embarrassing whines could let slip, planting his feet firmly steadfast onto the mattress to gift a punishing thrust into you.

Jostling into your body until you felt weightless, he’s streaming up translucent glosses of precum with every one of his bounces. Every shuddering thwack! of his tight, cum-filled balls, every bruising smack of his sharp hips onto your ass.

“Where is it-” he’s muttering darkly into your ear. More, more, more. Massive hands coveting all down where he could feel the obscenely thick cylindrical outline of his own length rummaging inside you. Leaving a mess. Making a mess. “C’mon c’mon- c’mon…where is it.”

“Wh-what are you even- ah!” you squeal when he gives your puffy clit a ruthless pinch. “-what are you even looking for, Toru–”

This only leaves you with a few more circular bruises on your cervix, and you catch the way that Gojo’s ruts grow sloppier. The way his pants become more condensed. And he’s dragging his sweat-slicked cheek down your own with a strained call of your name - practically purring.

“Don’t- ohh shit- don’t say my name like that-” Gojo whines - whines. “Please. You don’t know h-how heavenly this gorgeous cunt is, hah- have mercy the first time, sweetness.”

But of course you don’t.

“Toru–”

“Fuck!” Gojo’s dazed eyes snap open in an instant, it was almost as if on autopilot the way his fingers spark subconsciously with a few sparks of cursed energy - he couldn’t hold it in. He didn’t want to.

With a few swift movements, he’s using years and years of practice in battle to wrangle two strong arms around your waist and shove you face-first onto the king-sized mattress.

One sculpted thigh kneeing open your trembly legs further onto all fours, the other hiking up, up, up to angle his reddish tip right into your neglected g-spot. So harsh. So thorough.

“No- no no no- lemme see that p-pretty face.” He’s hauling your pliant body into what you think is a headlock, feeling your neck surrounded by Gojo’s pale, bulging bicep. So tight. it makes you whirl your glassy eyes around and-

Oh.

Gojo Satoru was ruined.

Was letting his six eyes work overtime to locate your cushiony sweet spots, directing his slender hips to plummet right into each and every one. Greedy gaze practically glowing every time your knees weaken when his rotund, weepy head crashes into your battered sensitive spots. Buttering up your insides in a thick, creamy gloss of pre. Close. He was so close.

“Th-that’s cheating–”

“N-nooo not cheating.” he’s leaving the tiniest bites and hickeys all over your exposed neck, back muscles flexing when he bows easily into your own body. You could feel every massage and glide of his washboard abs down your arched spine. He was so hot. Burning up, practically. “I did my r-research…” And it’s the way his powerfully buzzing digits roll messily over your clit that has you wondering whether he even realized he was using his powers.

Whether he was too pussydrunk to.

Too cocky about the way all it takes is a few lazy seconds of his rude toying with your sensitive nub for you to cum. Hell yeah - before him, he’s noting with a heady laugh.

A laugh.

Wide and humorless - directed at you when just a singular gush of your drooling lips makes his eyes slide all the way to the back of his head. And he couldn’t help the way his head drops backwards, all it takes for Gojo to stumble right over the edge.

“Shit shit shit shit-” he’s scrunching his eyes open - just barely registering the way the bedroom lights have shattered. Letting out a low hiss before painting your gummy insides in a milky coat of his thick seed.

Leaving the wettest traces all over your cervix, he can feel its sloshing dredges all around him when Gojo’s ragging down your walls to glide his twitch cock out. To gasp at the way your teary slit was drizzling him in a glistening lamination of his own cum.

Drip! Drip! Dripping all down onto the expensive navy sheet - and he’s finding himself grinning. Shuffling down to his knees until his mouth pressed a pretty peck onto your slobbering pussy, “A-after this m’gonna sh-show you how the strongest really fucks his PocketPussy3000…imaginin’ you.”

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely weekkk!!

Plagiarism not authorized.

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fairy-angel222 · 9 months ago

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𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 જ⁀⟡

Something changed in Nanami when he got you pregnant. His protective nature coming out whenever it came to you, his wife. He was so sweet, pampering you and making sure to do everything you needed. Cleaning the house, cooking you food, going out to work, everything. He refused to let his precious sweetheart put any form of stress on herself, scolding you softly when you tried to take over the chores.

He was extremely excited for you two’s baby. Already setting up the extra bedroom for when the lil guy, or girl, was here.

But if there was one thing your husband especially loved about the pregnancy, was you. Loved to see that round stomach of yours, your breasts heavy and full with the perfect amount of firmness.

When you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Nanami was elated. Everything was great. And to make things even better for him, your breasts had gotten even fuller. After the first few weeks, you were both craving each other. Having already put your daughter to sleep when you were laying on your bed, Nanami in between your legs with his head in your neck.

Nanami had always appreciated your body in bed, squeezing and groping at your pretty pair of tits. Latching his mouth onto your nipples with a groan. Now that they were filled with milk, he appreciated them even more.

His thick cock fucking lazily into you, your fingers running through his hair as you moaned, soft whimpers falling past your lip as slow thrusts began grinding against your walls. “Kento..” you mewled, your eyes closed at how gentle Nanami was being with you.

Nanami hummed, his fingers playing with your nipples as he kissed down your neck. Eyes widening when you let out a whine, feeling your nipples letting out a light stream of liquid. Looking down to see the watery white liquid coating his skin.

“Nnh— ‘m sorry, can’t be controlled,” you moaned, watching the man simply stare before he smiled. “It’s more than okay sweetheart, been meaning to try this for a while.”

You let out a cry when your husband’s tongue swirled around your perked nipple, sucking at the sensitive bud with a groan when the warm liquid hit his tongue. His hand moving to squeeze at the other one as he gulped the sweetness.

“Kento, hmm.. oh b-baby—” you mewled, slightly surprised at how passionately he sucked at the soft flesh.

“God sweetheart— who knew this was so sweet, can live on it forever.” he breathed, his hips rolling sensually into yours as you whimpered his name, your grip on his hair tightening as you tugged at his blond strands.

Nanami’s hips rocked your body back and forth into the sheets, your stomach filled with heat at the sensation. “Kento.. so good.” His mouth moving onto your other breast as he pressed into it, once again allowing the taste to settle on his tongue. Suckling softly at the leaking bud.

Nanami grunted, his thrusts sloppy as he felt his cock twitch. “Tastes so good sweetheart, gonna have to do this more often. Whole body’s just so damn perfect.”

“Nngh, ‘m so close Kento,” your breathing speeding up and your toes curled. “So close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me sweetheart?” Lapping at the still flowing substance. Biting down softly and making you let out a cry, your back arching in a string of whiny moans as you clenched down around him.

“Love you so much, pretty mama. Love you so fucking much.” Your husband groaned, holding you tight against him as he continued to fuck into you. Your moans getting louder as your pussy gushed messily around him. “There we go, so good f’ me.”

His thrusts slow and deep before he was stilling inside you, his eyes meeting yours as his abs tensed. Spurts of his warm cum painting your insides.

You whimpered as you were filled up, your breathing steadying as the rising movements of your chest matched his. “Love you so much Kento- oh no” A heavy sigh cut you off as Nami’s high pitched cries echoed through the room. You whined, “gotta go see what she needs.”

Nanami shook his head, placing a kiss to your lips. “Get yourself cleaned up yeah? I’ll go check on our baby girl.” You smiled in response, you really couldn’t ask for a better husband.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento

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rodolfoparras · 4 months ago

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The art of tardiness

Pairing: Unspecified Male Character x Male reader

cw: 18+, possessiveness, anal fingering, anal sex, top male reader, bottom male character, age gap, morning sex, writing on skin, feminization (hole referred to as cunt)

Synopsis: sometimes calling him yours just isn’t enough

There were times you were sure that your boyfriend was dating two different people.

One was the young man who’d swiftly tuck his tail between his legs at the smallest comment made about his relationship. That man could admit that he lacked experience compared to his much older partner, could admit he probably wasn’t his partner’s ideal type with his scrawny frame and short height, and he knew that even if his boyfriend were to look past those things, the people around them would never do it.

Then there was the rabid dog in the shape of a young man, that barks and bites at any potential threat, such as hostile comments made about his relationship. He’d look you straight in the eye and tell you not to make comments about a relationship you know nothing off, hell he’d get in a physical altercation if you provoked him enough.

And then of course there was the desire to bite the hand that feeds him, devour his person down to the bone so he wouldn’t have to share him with the world. He or rather you were pretty good at keeping this desire at bay but sometimes you just couldn’t contain it especially early in the mornings, when he looks like a sight to behold with his lazy smile bleary eyes, thin white sheet doing nothing to cover up his naked body.

You want to keep him in bed, mark him up, make him cum over and over again til all he can remember is the feeling of your cock

Unfortunately things aren’t that easy, especially when he has to get ready for work in half an hour, but stubborn as you are, you don’t let him go, dead set on marking him up as much as possible.

At first he’s too lost in bliss to notice what you’re doing, letting you suck and nip on the sensetive skin while desperately clinging onto your body, that is til you bite down hard enough to draw blood and the man jerks in place, wide eyed and suddenly too aware of what you’re doing.

“No marks” he says, even goes as far as to scruff your neck, as if you’re nothing but a disobedient dog to him “I have work, remember?”

“Please?” and you know that you must sound rather pathetic but honestly you couldn’t care less, especially not when you notice that a couple of marks have already started to bloom on his skin.

“So goddamn possessive what am I gonna do with you huh?” He says, while keeping a vice like grip on your neck “Should I let you write your damn name on my forehead? Would that make you happy hm?” He says gaze much softer as his thumb strokes your neck.

Even though he hadn’t intend to do so, his words gave you an idea and you immediately find yourself reaching for the night stand, hand blindly rummaging through the drawer.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He says, brow raised but it doesn’t take long before realization strikes him “Absolutely not,”

You turn to the other man , practically giving puppy eyes. This time you do feel a tad bit of embarrassment but not enough to give up on this battle.

“I can’t go out like that,”

“You won’t,” you immediately say “I’ll do it somewhere you can cover it,”

“Jesus Christ kid,” he sighs out and pinches his brows but despite his words you know that his resolve has crumbled.

You’re quick to grab the first best pen before straddling his waist, the late night escapade having left him in nothing but a thin white sheet covering the most sensitive part of him but you can still feel you cock head rubbing upon the cleft of his ass as you settle down.

“Cheeky bastard” he breathes out, fully aware of where your mind’s gone to.

You only hush him response, muttering how you have to be focused before you attempt to put the marker to his arm.

But before you can do that he grabs ahold of your egg wrist, a firm look painted on his face “promise me it’ll wash off,”

“Promise,” you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

And as you proceed to put the marker to his skin, you realize that you’re at loss of ideas on what you could write on him. It’s like you wanted to do so much when the idea first struck your head but sitting here you almost feel overwhelmed by all the options that you have.

You play it safe at first, writing out your name just below his pec, a move that has the man squirming beneath you.

“Tickles,”

“Sorry,” you say, not an ounce of sincerity in your tone as you draw another scribble on his forearm. It’s you and him- well it’s supposed to be but your artistic skills only allow you to draw two stick figures holding hands.

For a moment there are no words exchanged as you continue draw on his skin. You do a couple of doodles here and there, some ridiculous other more scandalous. You even write some words on his skin- some being your name others being lewd quotes, everything done within range where he’d be able to hide it beneath his clothes.

“This enough for you kid?” He says, when the majority of his chest is covered in little scribbles.

He probably didn’t mean anything by those words. But the ugly monster residing inside couldn’t help but take this as a challenge especially when he says that as he lays naked in your shared bed, soft smile on his face, the scribbles of your name clearly showing under the rays of sunlight protruding through the bedroom window.

Instead of responding to him you grab ahold of his wrist, black marker writing out the letter M on his skin, bold and big, just within the range of where he can pull on a shirt if he wishes to hide the word. The letters I N E are soon added in place, big bold and curling around his underarm.

The word mine now lays written on his forearm.

But you don’t stop there, eyes flicking over to his furry stomach that looks awfully bare before you take a marker to it and start writing your initials all over it. This time around the skin isn’t as forgiving, straight lines turning jagged from coarse hair and faded scar. Not that you mind and neither does the little monster residing inside.

You continue writing on him, covering as much skin as he allows but truth be told you don’t know how his clothes will be able to cover up some scribbles, not that you plan on telling him that right now.

And he doesn’t seem to care that much as his gaze carefully follows your movements, breathing growing heavier and heavier with each second that passes.

At some point you feel the need to get closer to him even though you’re practically sitting ontop of him, swiftly shuffling around til you’re slotted between his thighs, carefully drawing a line from the crevice of his knee down to the groove of his left thigh.

He continues to watch you with attentive eyes, as you add a triangle to the end of line, the marker reaching dangerously to where his balls lay hanging between his thighs and from where you sit you can smell his musk hitting your nostrils, can feel his thighs clench beneath your fingertips , can now see the way the black arrow is humorously pointing straight to the furley ring of muscles.

It’s impossible not to reach out to the spot between his legs, a curious finger swiping over his sensitive skin and pulling a gasp out of him“Hah!”

Your eyes flicker up, cock twitching at the sight of the man who already looks so wrecked before looking back to the marker in your hand, moving it back and forth til the line on his thigh grows in size, doing anything just to busy your mind because you’re supposed to draw on him not fuck him, remember that?

But it’s not long before your attention is back onto his burning heat, a glob of spit landing onto the sensitive skin before your finger circles his now wet rim.

“What are you-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you slip the tip of your finger inside, watching the way he jerks in surprise, the sudden movement jacking up the straight marker line, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Jesus Christ kid,” he breathes, voice dripping with both arousal and amusement as you continue to sink your finger inside of him.

“This alright?” You ask, and push til you’re knuckles deep before giving an experimental curl of your finger.

Another gasp escapes his mouth, hips bucking up into your touch “ hah -now you ask?” He says, but despite his words the man nods at your question.

That’s all it takes for you to work a second finger inside, this time coaxing a hiss out of him,“easy there kid going to break me,”

You can’t help but chuckle at that”Think you’re giving me too much credit pretty,” you say but decide to move your fingers at a much slower pace, watching the way his body once again relax onto the sheets as contented hums escape his lips.

You continue curling your fingers inside while drawing onto the man; circling birth marks and scars you find pretty, drawing arrows across every inch of skin while watching the way he twists and turns in the sheets with every brush of your fingertips “so fucking pretty like this drives me crazy “

At some point you stop drawing on his skin, turning all your focus to the fingers buried inside him.

You don’t even notice the way tears have started to gather at his eyes, nor the begs and please continuously escaping his mouth, too entranced with the sight of his hungry hole practically swallowing up your hand.

It’s only when he grabs ahold of your wrist that you snap back into the present moment, now noticing how you’ve left the pen to bled out on the white sheets, and how the ink on his skin has already started to smear.

The gruesome monster inside tells you that you need to find another way to mark the man.

Within moments you’re grabbing ahold of his legs, pushing his knees up to his chest til his cunt is on full display, not wasting another second to line your cockhead up with his entrance before pushing inside him.

“Ah fuck! Insatiable dog,” he barks out, not having expected you to do that but that doesn’t stop him from practically clamping onto you as you bottom out: heels digging into your ass and nails digging into your back as you start driving up into his hungry cunt.”mpf fuck just like that keep going kid“

Who’s insatiable now? You think to yourself, a strangled chuckle escaping your lips as you continue to thrust into his tight wet heat.

It doesn’t take long before you’re setting a steady pace, thrusting so erratically he’s practically choking up on the moans that are trying to escape his lips, bed frame frantically rocking against the wall every thrust of your hips.

“Ah! Fuck! Going to - hah going to kill me,” he says through choked sobs, hands madly clawing at your back as if he’s losing his footing on this world.

And as you look down at the beautiful mess he makes, you can’t help but notice the shadow of a bulge showing on his stomach, right below the spot where your initials lay.

Once again you feel the zealous monster within you take the steering wheel, hand pushing his legs past his ears, before drilling into him.

“Say it “ you grunt out, hands keeping a vice like grip on his thighs, pushing his legs so far back you’re sure you’ll split him in half if you keep it up “Come on come on say you’re mine”

At first he’s at a loss for words, barely even able to catch his breath with the way you’re erratically thrusting into him but eventually he manages to respond to you.

“Yours yours all yours fucking fuck I’m cum-“ he splutters out, hole erratically clenching down onto your cock before he cums in hot thick white streaks, across both his and yours abondmen “‘m sorry ‘m sorry” he slurs out, while he continues to shamelessly fuck himself back onto your cock.

Something about that sight is enough to triggering your own orgasm

“Fuck!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut before youre hit with hot blinding pleasure.

The world around you blurs out, ears ringing loud as you continue to ride out your high before you eventually slump down beside the man.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, ears still ringing loud, world barely coming into focus. “That was-“ you begin but trail off once you can’t seem to find the right word for it.

A laugh rumbles through the older man’s chest, his big hand cradling the back of your neck before he says “got that right kid,”

You look up at him only to be left speechless at the sight.

See people always said that a relationship with someone so much younger than him would ruin him. You’d hear it over and over again while eavesdropping on whatever conversation he was having about this “sudden” relationship.

You never really understood what they meant until you saw him sprawled out on your bed, gaping hole stuffed full with your cum, and every inch of his skin covered in your initials.

At least they knew he was yours to ruin.

Yours

Yours.

That little insatiable monster that can't seem to find rest rises to life again, coaxes you to slot your lips against the older man’s, tongue slipping into his mouth and licking along every nook and crevice, leaving the taste of you behind for anyone that would dare kiss him.

It takes one more kiss before he prys himself away from you, and walks over to the bathroom on shaky steps, the sight of his inked ass is the last thing you see before the door closes behind him.

You slump back into bed with a smile on your face, the taste of him still lingers on your lips, the previous string of events practically burned into your iris and for a second it all feels like a dream that is before you hear your name being shouted behind the bathroom door followed by a string of angry words “why won’t this shit wash off,”

Oh well…

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https-lvesick · 4 months ago

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CAUGHT ON CAMERA — starring f!reader x na jaemin (ft. jeno and haechan, the perverts)

jeno and haechan know they can always count on their best friend, jaemin, and that's why they borrow his camera for a project. they just didn't expect to get the wrong camera... and enjoy every second of it.

content 𖹭 jaem!big dick, sex tape (size diff, breeding, stomach bulge, fingering, slight nipple sucking, m!oral + cum eating), m!masturbation

notes 𖹭 another big thanks for my baby @sinisxtea for proofreading this!

it wasn't unusual to see na jaemin walking around the campus carrying a camera and photographing everything he found cool. the devoted photography student had an unique artistic view, in his mind, anything could be turned into art. ordinary objects, situations and even some students were his objects of art, but there was only one thing, precious enough to worth his devotion: you. jaemin's object of adoration. he was so committed to you and to show the beauty of every single thing you'd do, he bought a camera exclusively for you.

that camera was special. It could only support videos and photos of you. you could be doing anything. playing with stray cats, eating, painting your nails, putting on some makeup, but his favourite moments were the intimate ones.

jaemin just... he couldn't handle your preciousness. in every aspect, he felt the need, the urge to capture and keep your beauty. especially when you put on a little show just to show him your new lingerie set. or maybe when you were choking with his cock down your throat, your makeup smudged all over your face. fuck... he could list every video that the camera had ever captured.

and knowing how committed, na jaemin, a third-year photography student, was to his major, donghyeok, his roommate, thought he could borrow one of his cameras for a project.

“did you even ask him for it, you dumbass? what if he took his camera with him?” jeno comments, leaning on the door frame, watching his friend search for one of the most valuable items for jaemin.

“wasn't he just driving his girl home? why does he need a camera for that?” the younger cusses, messing with jaemin's drawer.

“sure, but you know how in love he is and how he just keeps anything she does.” jeno rolls his eyes, almost giving up on convincing his friend to find an object he didn't even ask permission to use.

“finally!” donghyeok laid his eyes on something deep in the closet. he takes the camera and closes the doors.

“i still think that's the worst idea you've ever had. what if jaemin sees a picture of you there? especially if it's on the camera that, again, was deep in his closet.” jeno emphasizes his last words, trying to knock some sense into his friend, but knowing he wouldn't listen, he just adds: “at least check to see if it's charged.”

“that's what i'm trying to do...” donghyeok says focused. the two guys were already sitting in the corner of jaemin's bed. he turned the camera on and you are the first thing they saw, wearing a flowy light blue dress. jaemin and you were on a date and you were showing how to make your boyfriend's favourite sandwich. “how can someone be so pretty...” he murmurs, sighing.

“i don't know...” jeno says, letting himself get lost at the sound of your voice and how your beaming smile could lighten up his whole day. honestly, they can get where all of jaemin's adoration comes from. if he had a girlfriend like you, he'd also keep every single moment to himself. then he realized what he was thinking. “but she's our best friend's girlfriend, right? the camera is fully charged, we can see it, then c'mon.” he stands up, but donghyeok immediately pulls him to sit again.

“c'mon jen, we're already here. this might be the camera he dedicated to her. don't you wanna see more of this... damn sculpture? you sure?” the younger lee skips some photos and videos, stopping at a video where you're wearing a bikini. you were laughing with jaemin while taking off your sundress, talking about going to the water. the focus goes all to your ass, while you walk to the water and they can hear jaemin's mischievous laugh along with a perverted comment.

they knew it wasn't cool to desire their best friend's girlfriend, but were they the ones to blame when you looked that pretty? you looked like some fancy masterpiece sculpted by michelangelo in his peak of inspiration. are they the ones to blame when you looked like aprodithe's daughter yourself, being allowed to live among those poor and useless human beings, gifting them your graciousness? you must be the girl of every guy's dream and they're lucky to have a best friend good enough to win a lotto. at least they get to see you often.

as donghyeok passed the videos, the two guys found themselves more and more immersed in you. and jaemin is completely right to be obsessed with you.

“holy fuck...” haechan whispers, licking his lips before biting his lower lip. jeno comes closer, eyes wide open when he notices what's happening on the video.

“come here.” Jaemin's voice is heard and you comply. you crawl to the corner of the bed, where your boyfriend was, and sit still.

you were wearing an expensive lingerie set that was driving not only one, but three men crazy. the bra hugged your breasts so prettily that they wondered if they'd fit that good in their hands.

“nana... your cock...” you let out a whiny plea. almost purring like a cat. your sparkling eyes, begging your boyfriend to stop flauting you to the camera and to let you suck on him.

it's not that hard to deduce that jaemin may have been lowering his pants.

“haechan, enough.” jeno warns, trying to be rational, but yet his eyes were glued on the little screen that was showing you, kitty licking jaemin's tip, teasing him. you were even rubbing his cock between your breasts, slobbering on it.

“fuck it, he's not here to see what we're doing.” donghyeok says in a low voice, holding the camera in one hand, as the other was lowering his shorts.

“haechan, what the fuck!” the older lee exclaims, completely shocked with his friend's attitude.

“jeno, if you don't wanna stay, then leave. and you better don't open that fucking mouth of yours to jaemin.” he spits on his palm, before dragging it along his shaft, lubricating his length. “but you can't deny the obvious.” haechan laughs, looking at jeno’s pants, before turning his full attention to the video.

jaemin's hand was guiding your head, sucking him off as if it was your life goal. you sucked his tip, forcing your tongue on his slit, making your boyfriend cuss, and squeeze lightly his full balls. he's so fucking good at what he's doing, and so are you. shortly after, he's pulling your hair, prying you off of his cock.

“open that pretty mouth of yours, huh?” he asks, jerking off right on your mouth. In a matter of few seconds, you can taste his salty cum on your tongue and you swallow when he spills more on your boobs.

jeno was standing, thinking about this whole situation. he looked at his friend having fun and looks at his own problem, getting more uncomfortable. the way donghyeok looked so satisfied watching whatever was happening on the screen awakened his interest and desire. fuck, she was his best friend's girlfriend, but... she was fucking pretty and when would he get any opportunity like that again?

“this might be harassment or something like that…” he mumbles, retaking his place beside his friend and frees his cock out of his pants. jeno could see haechan's mischievous smile, so he said first: “don't you even get started, you nasty dog.” even with that said, donghyeok didn't seem very offended, after all, who is he to say anything?

by this time you were already laying in bed, your legs spread for jaemin and the camera, consequently, the two perverts watching that. your glistening cunt gushing your juices, while your boyfriend collected every drop of it with his long fingers, teasing your slit.

“how many?” jaemin asks, threatening to insert the tip of two of his fingers, but never doing it.

“three, nana…” you whine, biting your lower lip, watching your boyfriend smile and tease you, the same way you'd do to him. that's until he inserts the three fingers you requested, all at once.

haechan was sure that sweet, languid, moan would linger in his mind forever. jeno, on the other hand, was sure he will never be able to look at his friend and his girlfriend again. he'd rather throw himself off of the window. as soon as he cums.

with each movement of jaemin's fingers, the wet squelching sound could be heard. it made your eyes roll while jeno and haechan make it an opportunity to fasten their own movements. jeno gulps, looking straight at your wet hole, salivating. fuck, he imagines how good it must be to feel you. he's sure you're tight and nice to be inside of. he tighten his grip, forcing his cock on a tighter hole. haechan also salivates, watching how good you take jaemin's fingers. he stops his hand's movements, thrusting his hips up, imagining it was your pussy he was fucking.

jaemin takes his fingers out of you and the boys could suppose what he was doing. he was tasting you on his own fingers. haechan curses, caressing his balls, and closes his eyes, catching his lower lip between his teeth. jeno slows his rhythm, tracing his fingers along his abs.

your boyfriend hovers over you and kisses you. his free hand traces your body, searching for your bra's clasp, undoing it. you discard the piece, feeling jaemin's wet kisses on your skin, and then you feel his plump lips wrapping around your nipple. you shiver feeling your boyfriend's warm tongue, hugging him.

“jaem…” you call, almost like crying, and jaemin smiles against your skin, understanding well your wish. he pulls the mound of flesh between his teeth making you hiss.

“how could i deny you?” he mocks and stands up, taking off his pants. when he resumes his position above you, he rests his cock on your tummy.

and that's when they realize how smaller than jaemin you are.

“no fucking way! this won't fit, no shit.” donghyeok smiled, clearly having fun. “this might be better than some cheap ass porn i've ever watched in my life.” his eyes lighten up with excitement. jeno only nods, lost in pleasure.

jaemin rubs his tip on your slit, forcing himself slowly. “no matter how many times i fuck you... will you ever open enough for me, darling?” he growls, getting even further inside you.

“jaem, it's too big!” you whine, gripping the bed sheets and closing your eyes, arching your back.

for a moment, your boobs shake and donghyeok loves it, almost losing it. he considers replay that part, but maybe another time, when he's alone.

when jaemin is fully inside you and the bulge is perfectly visible, jeno cums with a grunt. haechan laughs, teasing his friend. “good job, jen! hit it that fast?”

“shut the fuck up, lee donghyeok.” jeno grits his teeth. the truth is, jeno has a thing for bulge. it was the first thing he searched for when he was trying to relieve some stress. it was the first thing he thought when getting laid and now... knowing you were so small that a bulge was surely made on your belly made him see stars.

jaemin moves. starts slow, helping you get used to his size, even if you had done it plenty of times before, he was too big for you, no matter how many times when you were fucked by him, but then he picks up his pace. his hand presses the bulge on your stomach for a while, before gripping your thigh. his rhythm is rough, intense, so much that it makes your breasts move at each snap of his hips. and haechan felt like he was in heaven.

your moans starts to get more desperate and high-pitched. you call your boyfriend's name like a mantra while resting one of your hands on his stomach. jaemin doesn't stop, only picking up his pace, getting even rougher. he feels your pussy gripping his cock, identifying your orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your mouth remains wide open for a while until you feel it dry, feeling jaemin squirting all of his seed inside of you.

“you fine, love?” he asks, slowing down his pace, only so you can come down off your high. you can just nod.

jaemin finally turns his camera, focusing right where your bodies meet. he thrusts a few more times, before getting out of you. the moment his cum is seen dripping out of you like a cascade is when haechan loses it, cumming with a whiny moan.

jaemin says something else, but the boys could care less, so donghyeok turns off the camera, putting it on the bed. jeno and haechan remain in silence for a moment.

“this might be the best thing my eyes have ever seen.” “that must be the gayest thing i've ever done.” they say at the same time.

“what?” haechan says.

“c'mon, i saw your cock. plus, i had to hear you moan like a whore. i'm getting insane…” jeno stands up angry, covering his dick again.

“oh, right, 'cause you moan like an alpha, huh?” the younger lee also stands up, bringing the camera with him.

“where do you think you're going with this, haechan?” jeno questions, watching his friend walk past him with the camera in hands.

“if you think i'm not enjoying this pretty little thing right here while i can, you're stupid. and you better not to try and jerk off with me. once was enough.” he says, leaving the room and an astonished jeno behind.

poor jeno, little does he know that haechan won't only watch. maybe he can upload some videos too. seeing jaemin's cock was a little price to pay when he was able to see all of you, spread and wet again.

#nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dream imagines #jaemin fanfic #jaemin smut

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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

Note

Wouldn’t it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.

Example:

Dick:Makes a silly joke

Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it

Dick: gloats about it to the fam

The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh

Don’t stress out with your writings (btw love your ‘again & again’ series❤️)

Take your time and don’t forget to drink water🫶🫶🫶

laughter is the best medicine

ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne

— masterlist !

more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.

trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.

so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.

if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.

he had proven himself wrong.

once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by

it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.

all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.

yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.

but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?

give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.

the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their being— or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?

tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.

he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.

jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilarious— especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.

imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.

jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.

damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.

that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.

what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.

at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.

after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.

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thepossummoldypasta · 2 months ago

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Hidden In The Woods

In the woods around Hawkins there is a van, and in that van lives an Eddie. Not a nasty beat-up van in constant need of repair, nor is it a creepy van that looks like it belongs to a serial killer; It’s Eddie's van and that means comfort. It has a perfectly undented body painted green and a mattress in the back. Or well, he doesn't actually live in the van. It's a nice van sure but Eddie lives in a doublewide trailer with his uncle, not his van–no matter how often they joke about it.

(and there is a small chance he’s lying when he says it doesn't constantly break down)

He’s heading to his van now actually.

Eddie longs for the ability to teleport at times like this; he’s trudging through the woods after a particularly fucked drug deal, and all he wants is to be in the back of his beloved shitbox, wrapped in blankets and smoking a joint.

But Eddie can't magically teleport to the van and he also can’t ban Tommy Hagan from buying his weed–who was a major ass today by the way–because he gets most of his income from the jerk.

He also can’t park closer to where he deals, which sucks. Eddie knows Hopper looks for his van parked on the side roads, so woods it is. Boo.

It's not that much farther….

And it's a nice day...

Plus the trees are pretty…

Eddie loves fall: the trees light up so magically in the sunbeams like a leafy fire, he sees more gray squirrels dancing about the forest floor this time of year, and Halloween is just awesome.

This Halloween especially. He led a bitchin’ Halloween one-shot with his new DnD club this year and nothing could sour his mood for almost a week afterward. Even though there was some weird pumpkin blight that year that meant no jack-o-lanterns and the controlled burns in the woods behind Forrest Hills kept him up at night all that month.

Plus he had a really good fall break so far.

Okay, maybe things aren't sooooo bad. Trust a walk in nature to clear his head. Now that he’s calmed down Eddie can appreciate how nice everything is.

Wait.

Eddie definitely didn't leave the back of the van open when he left.

Maybe things are shit and Eddie is an idiot.

Fuck

He’s lanky and gangly and has no weapon to defend himself with, but Eddie still creeps closer to the doors.

Hagan couldn't have gotten here before Eddie, so he’s probably not going to get jumped for selling him overpriced weed. Maybe a really smart, really lucky, raccoon just so happened to get the door open? More likely Eddie opened the damn thing himself, completely forgot about it, and is now making mountains out of molehills…

He props a hand on the closed door and peeks around it into the dim back. And promptly reels back in shock falling flat on his ass.

It's a total Occam's Razor moment. The easiest and most simple solution is that the universe hates Eddie Munson. Because that's definitely Steve Harrington in the back of his van. He’s snuggled deep into Eddie’s blankets and smelling distinctly more omega than the last time he saw the guy. But it's Steve alright.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

What the fuck is Steve Harrington doing in the back of Eddie’s van? He’s never even had a conversation with the guy!

What do you do in this situation!

Steve’s obviously nested back there, and if He was completely scentless before the fall break he’s gotta be fresh off his presentation heat, so like hell is Eddie going to go barging in–that's a surefire way to get his face ripped off–but Eddie also needs to get in that van eventually!

He Raises back up on shaky legs, poking his head fully into the back; and takes another good, hard, look.

There is still a person in the back of his van. A whole-ass person who wasn't in his van when he left. A person who is without a doubt, Steve.

A rustle of movement, a quick shifting of blankets, pulls Eddie back to reality. There’s a cute little chirr from the nest followed swiftly by chestnut waves of hair shimming out into the open. Eddie isn't even given time to react before doe-eyes bleary with sleep blink down at him.

“Eddie!”

And oh isn't that the sweetest little chirp. Eddie watches in astonishment as the omega wiggles to prop himself up against the back of the driver's seat, chirping adorably all the while. Eddie can't decide if he’s more mystified by The Prettiest Boy in Hawkins™ cuddled up back there, or That he knows Eddie’s name.

Now that the omega isn't completely cocooned, Eddie can smell that faintest hint of mint that Steve is throwing into the air paired with heady lavender and it draws him in. Before he even realizes he’s followed his nose and clambered into the back of the van… his van.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie starts slowly. Are you comfy?” It's an innocent enough question. Hopefully, if he plays it casually, Steve won't decide Eddie’s a threat and rend him to dust for being in the poor Omega’s space.

Steve didn't seem to understand at first cooing a cute, drawn-out “Hi, Eddie” but eventually he blinked owlishly and replied with a smile “So cozy”.

“That’s nice sweetheart, but how bout we get you to your nest, hmm?” the alpha tries to suggest. Oh but now Steve looks a bit confused; drawing his brows together and pouting.

“Nest? ‘M in my nest?” Steve says (well actually he whines it, but Eddie is trying to ignore that lest his heart break). Crap what does he do now?

“I–I know you’re nesting right now, uh–but wouldn’t you be–wouldn't you feel better at home?” Eddie reasons.

“But there’s no nest there!” Steve whines again “They wont let me have a nest! I wanna stay here”

“Okay, Okay” Eddie soothes in a hushed voice,” you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to sweetheart” Eddie is in so much trouble. Now that he knows Steve won't be pissed at him for being so close, Eddie’s having a hell of a time not being closer.

Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.

Eddie coos from a distance until the whines and whimpers peter out and are replaced by soft sleepy snuffles.

“How did you even get here, big boy?” Eddie questions. The thought has been plaguing him, what happened while he was away?

“I was taking a walk” Steve starts, he lays his head down and his eyes flutter closed before he continues. “I needed to get away and I went into the woods. I got turned around but you saved me.”

“I saved you?” How the hell did he do that?

“Mmm hmmm, I smelled ya” Steve hums” smelled so good so I followed.” ok, even more confused now. Eddie has an…unconventional scent–basil and tobacco leaf–he can't imagine someone trekking through the woods to find something that smells like pasta sauce and cigarettes. And how long was Steve lost in the woods, how long was he wandering, cold and alone, with only a scent trail for comfort.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Uh yes?” Eddie focuses back on reality, ready to face whatever he’s about to be asked.

“If I’m sleeping beauty, why didn't you wake me with a kiss?” nope not ready for that.

“Would you? Uh Do–did you want me to?” Steve nods against the soft blanket pillowed underneath him.

Oh.

Eddie feels his resolve crack and threatens to shatter. He can't take advantage of Steve when he’s so vulnerable. Is he vulnerable? Steve isn't still in heat, his mind is sound. But he is upset. Best to leave it be for now.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?”

Dang it.

Steve shoots up–ramrod-like–to nod ecstatically. Eddie's resolve shatters. Absolutely not helped by Steve’s little please, please, pleases.

“Okay”

It's not like there's anyone around to judge him.

It’s like the movies, the way they lean in close and steal each other's breath. Steve tastes like honeyed sunshine. It sweetens the omega’s lavender-mint tea smell in a way that Eddie knows he’ll crave till the day he gets buried six feet under. Eddie can't tell where he ends and his darling omega begins, drawn so close together that their purrs rattle in both chests.

Only the lack of oxygen drives them apart, though Eddie tries to fight it.

“I’ll do better next time princess” the alpha rumbles with care.

They seal the deal with another perfect kiss.

Hell yeah.

================================================

based on this post Special thanks to @starshideurfics for inspiring me to have Eddie call Steve sleeping beauty like a SIMP

#alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omegaverse #they're not even dating #I'll do ya one better #they've never had a conversation before #fanfic

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nehi-soda · 2 months ago

Text

Just Can't Get Enough -

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: With the house to yourselves, you and Joel put on a late-night horror flick, which ends up with you fucking, because of course it does :)

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: established relationship, unprotected P in V sex, rough sex, language (profanity), size kink, spanking, praise kink, dirty talk, fluff, smut, creampie, possessive behaviour, pet names (baby, good girl) pre-outbreak!joel, pixel!joel. No use of Y/N. Mood board for aesthetics only; reader's features aren't specified other than Joel can pick them up.

A/N: Im just horny for pre-outbreak joel miller, thats the fic. Enjoy!

The flicker of the TV light throws shadows across Joel's living room, painting your bodies in soft blues and whites. You’re straddled on top of him in reverse, knees sunk into the worn couch cushions, your back arched as you ride him. His hands splayed over your hips, guiding your rhythm even as he tries to hold himself together, trying to keep control. But Joel’s fighting a losing battle—his jaw’s slack, neck stretched back, and those deep, dark eyes are fixed on you like you’re the only damn thing in this world. Your moans mix with the cries blaring from the tv as a pornstar dies, but he’s watching you instead; some slasher flick Joel pretended to pick at random but knew damn well was going to lead to this; not fifteen minutes in, hands already tracing paths along your body like he’s memorised the damn map. After all, Sarah was staying at a friend’s house, granting you some much-needed alone time where you both could be as loud as you wanted.

“Goddamn, baby,” he grunts, voice low, strained, barely holding onto the end of the word as he thrusts up into you. “Ain’t gonna last long, movin’ like that.”

You toss a smirk over your shoulder, giving an extra roll of your hips that earns you a sharp, helpless gasp from him. You can feel how deep he is, every inch of him buried, and he lets out a rough, desperate groan as he thrusts up, making you bounce harder. Joel's hands fall lower, spanking your ass, fingers grabbing and squeezing handfuls of flesh tight. He watches, his gaze hot and intent, like he can’t get enough of the way you move on him, the way your glistening pussy looks taking his cock.

“Joel,” you whine, voice breathy as the air is knocked out of your chest. “We’re missing the best part.”

“Don’t care ‘bout the damn movie,” he grunts, his hands sliding up your waist, dragging you down onto him harder, forcing you to take every inch. “Can’t even think straight when you’re on me like this, takin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby.”

He fucks into you sharper, deeper than you could ever manage and pulls you back against his chest, his breath hot and fast in your ear. You feel him tense beneath you, feel the strain in every inch of his body as he tries to keep himself from tipping over the edge too early. He groans, low and guttural, voice rough as gravel as he presses a kiss against your neck, teeth grazing your skin. You shiver, grinding down on him, drawing another helpless moan from him, one hand gripping your hip while the other slinks around to press against your stomach, pulling you tighter against him. “You can stay here and give me my pussy.”

“Fuck, baby,” you whimper, your voice breaking as Joel buries himself deep and holds still, just for a second, trying to catch his breath. “Your cock feels so fucking good!"

You reach down to cup his balls as he rubs tight circles on your clit, ass rocking against him.

“Mhm, cum for me, baby.” He’s all breathless as his mouth latches onto your neck, kissing and sucking, only to pull away to praise you.

“Give it to me.”

“It’s all yours, Joel.”

“Good girl, cumformecumformecumforme.”

“Oh, fuck!”

You screech as you feel your pussy clench around him, your body convulsing as you orgasm.

Joel doesn’t waste a second as he stands with you still awkawrdly in his arms and him still buried inside you. ‘Not takin’ it out,’ he says gruffly, carrying you up the stairs before flinging you onto his bed.

You squeal as he pulls you towards him by your ankles, so you're situated at the edge of the bed, knees bent to your chest, legs spread.

You look down with glazed eyes to see him pushing his swollen cock back into your puffy entrance and let out an inaudible moan, griping onto the sheets.

You’re incoherent as the tops of his thighs begin to slap against your ass.

He wraps an arm around your thigh to reposition you so the length of your leg is pressed against his chest.

You’re both sweaty and sticking together, but you couldn’t care less because it’s so fucking hot how he pounds into you, and you just take it on your back like the ‘good fukin’ slut’ you are. But only his good fucking slut.

Your head lulls back onto the bed as you get lost in the feeling of him stretching you out over and over again, but he reaches up to cup your cheeks with both hands, forcing you to look at him. It’s like your mouth is permanently fixed open as he draws out your little gasps and whines, all doe-eyed and pupils blown wide.

You cling onto his forearms, digging little crescents with your nails, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind; he enjoys it, in fact. Loves watching you become all brainless and pliant, and suddenly he’s rolling you prone onto your stomach, pinning you beneath him, you gasp, bracing yourself on your forearms as he sinks into you from above, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His hands cage you in, strong arms on either side of your head as he thrusts harder, deeper, his gaze locked onto yours.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck-” you gasp, your knuckles turning white as they bunch at the sheets tighter as he drives into you, pushing the air out of your lungs. His pace is rough, relentless, and perfect. His face is close, stubbled chin brushing against your forehead. It almost hurts to arch up so much to be able to see him, but you don’t care if it means you get to look into his eyes. He’s like a dark angel above you; your favourite combination of green and gold is now black and hungry as he takes you in, his breath ragged, his chest heaving with each thrust. When he can’t hold out any longer, he moves faster, hands gripping your waist as he drills into you, filling the room with the rough and desperate groans that spill from his parted lips.

Joel falters for a second before spilling into you. You feel his hot spend seep inside you and it takes your breath away. You love being completely full of him; love to smell him on your skin and hair, love to hear the moans you pull from him. You’re like some love-blind addict; you just can’t get enough.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, that feral hunger softened only by the warmth there. And that’s when he goes slower, intense until you’re both lost in each other, nothing else in the world but the shared rhythm and the ache in every fibre of your being, pressed together, breaking apart, then melting right back into each other.

He comes down from his high with ragged breaths and peels himself off you, rolling onto his back, fingers carding his sweaty hair.

You just lie there momentarily to take him in: his gorgeous full lips, high cheekbones and pretty eyes.

You slot yourself against Joel’s side and nuzzle into his chest, playing with the dark hair scattered across it.

You feel all sleepy and gooey, dopamine pumping throughout your whole body in warm, caressing waves.

You stay like that until you both become chilly enough to put some clothes back on and finish the rest of the movie.

He hands you an old flannel, and you cuddle up to him on the couch until you fall asleep.

divider credit to @cafekitsune

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #pre outbreak!joel #game joel miller supremacy #game pre outbreak Joel #pixel Joel #game Joel miller #young joel miller

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dogpilled-puppymaxxing · 3 months ago

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if you bitch about the prices on therian gear i think you're annoying.

artists can price their shit however they damn well please. if you cant buy a mask and groceries, then while that sucks, that's not the artist's problem.

Art takes time, effort, and materials to make. Good fur and paint is expensive as hell. Realistic masks take hours to make and require skill. If you dont want to pay the price, the materials arent that difficult to get. make one yourself so you can realize that this shit doesnt just spawn in your lap. i cant afford most masks, so yknow what i'm doing instead of whining about prices? MAKING MY OWN.

Artists aren't just product machines, they're individuals with mouths to feed and things to do other than make you shit just so that they can underprice it and not be able to buy groceries for themselves. this isnt temu.

this annoys me so fucking bad as an artist, grow the fuck up.

#decay barkz #tagging for vamp #<- discourse #therian #therian gear

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leighsartworks216 · 3 months ago

Text

Nyctophobia

Sylus x gn!Reader

I still have to sleep with some sort of light on at night and I was like well what would Sylus think about this. And now here we are

Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, kissing, nyctophobia (fear of the dark), embarrassment, fear, pet names, swearing, implied sexual content, established relationship

Word Count: 2,153

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You feel so fucking stupid. Not because you did something wrong or made a fool of yourself (yet), but because this dumb problem you had was so childish. Even a 10-year-old is braver than you, a literal fucking Hunter!

You pout at the nightlight on your laptop. Sylus’s black card sat on your coffee table, just waiting to be used. And yet, the thought of using a card with access to millions of dollars (perhaps billions), just to buy a nightlight, halted you in your tracks, He hadn’t even said much about anything else you’ve bought before, and what he did say usually encouraged you to buy more expensive, lavish things. Surely, he wouldn’t flinch at this at all.

But that stupid, unrelenting voice in your head made buying the light impossible.

Which sucked.

It really, really sucked.

‘Cuz every time you stay in the N109 Zone in Sylus’s manor-slash-base, your room is so dark. Being in the lawless area doesn’t help, either. All the violence and danger you’d seen walking in the streets at night painted visions of stalkers in the corner, murderers with knives under your bed, and worse, just waiting for you to close your eyes and sleep.

But you don’t want to impose on the nice atmosphere Sylus has cultivated in his home. So you sleep with the light off, clinging to your blankets and telling yourself over and over again that nobody else is in the room.

Your phone buzzing interrupts your pity party. You shut your laptop and place it on the table next to the card. It buzzes again as you pick it up.

What’s wrong, sweetie?

I’ve only seen you make that face when a plushie falls out of the claw

You look up at your window. Sure enough, Mephisto’s red eyes greet you.

Stop spying on me >:(

Fine

The mechanical crow disappears from sight. You can just barely hear his caws as he flies off back to the N109 Zone.

But my question still stands

It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it

Sweetie, if someone says not to worry about something, people are going to worry about it

Damn him for giving you a chance to tell the truth. And damn your brain for reminding you that if you tell him the truth, he’d probably laugh at you. What does he have to worry about when he sleeps anyway? He’s already a light sleeper, but he also sleeps during the day, when creeps skitter from shadow to shadow. He wouldn’t understand.

Like I said, it’s nothing

Nothing happens for a few moments. The little dots to signify he’s typing don’t even show up. You can’t help wondering what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.

Maybe he’s getting ready to start the night, getting into his car so Luke and Kieran can drive him around to his many business dealings. Or maybe he’s picking out a vinyl from his shelf, taking it from the paper casing with a delicacy only shared with you, and setting it up on his phonograph. Or maybe he’s mimicking you: sitting on the couch, staring at the phone, wondering what to say next.

The dots appear, finally.

Come to the N109 Zone, kitten

Let me cheer you up

If Mephisto was still lurking around, he’d have seen just how fast you packed your things and hopped onto your bike.

Yes, the N109 Zone is dark and scary and extremely dangerous at the best of times. Yes, you’d be forced to sleep in the dark once again. Yes, your mind would play tricks on you and you’d probably stay up all night anyway.

But Sylus is there. And you haven’t seen him for almost a week. Who could blame you for jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him now?

Sylus greets you at the door with an amused smirk. “You got here fast.”

You playfully glare at him, smacking his chest as you pass by. “There wasn’t any traffic,” you tease.

The manor is as dark as usual. If it’s not black, it’s dark red. If it’s not dark red, it’s the occasional white furniture or golden accent.

Sylus trails behind you as you beeline it straight to your room to drop off your stuff. He leans in the doorway as you toss your bag onto the plush bed. “You seem to be in a better mood now,” he hums.

“I always feel better when I get to see you.” You smile up at him. It’s a soft remark. Genuine. Not the usual joking, back-and-forth banter you’re usually all too happy to supply during your visits.

His expression melts into something just as tender. Just as honest. He casually pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the few steps it takes to get to you. His hands cradle you like one of his precious antiques, tilting your face up while he cranes his neck until the world has shrunk to just this moment.

He grins. His eyes keep glancing down at your mouth. You grab onto his waist. Your fingers curl into his soft red sweater, desperate to keep him this close. His lips brush against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

“Then let me make it worth your while.”

It’s still dark when you wake up. The navy blue behind the curtain carries no hint of light, reassuring your sleep-addled brain that there is still plenty of time before day.

You roll over, silk sheets caressing your bare form, fully intending to go right back to sleep. Cold air slips underneath the blanket. You shiver and pull it tighter around you. Without thinking, you reach out toward the other side of the bed. It’s too large for just one person. The bed is cold beneath your fingers, even as you reach out farther.

You blink open your eyes, blearily staring into the darkness, searching for some answer you can quite grasp yet.

What are you reaching for…?

You turn your face into your pillow, determined to ignore that strange feeling in your gut and enjoy the last hours of the night. The rich scent of bourbon and vanilla catch on the edge of your senses. It smells just like Sylus…

You open your eyes again. Where’s Sylus?

Your fingertips brush the edge of the bed as you reach out. A discordant chord of terror strikes in your heart as you quickly pull your hand back. Thoughts of something reaching out to grab you flood your mind. Your heart races, chasing off the last ounces of sleepiness from your body.

You pull the blanket even tighter around you, curling it under your feet and tucking it into your sides until you’re in a cocoon of safety. No matter how hard you strain your eyes, you can’t see anything. But in your mind, everything can see you.

You curl up into a pitiful ball.

You could get up, but you can’t. What if something grabs your ankles?

You could grab your phone, but you can’t. What if something is waiting in ambush and your phone is the bait?

You could do a thousand things to get out of this darkness. But you can’t, for a million reasons.

The door knob slowly turns. The only indication the door has opened at all is the sound of the lower edge brushing against the carpeted floor. No light comes in from the hall. It’s all pitch black. The door clicks shut.

You hold your breath.

Footsteps. Large, heavy footsteps. They don’t stomp. You’re not sure if it would be better if they did. They creep around the side of the bed.

You don’t move.

Weight shifts the mattress. Slowly. Deliberately.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You strain to hear anything else.

Something slides over your blankets.

You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you see spots. You bite your lip to avoid making sound.

The something - a hand, you think - wraps around your waist.

You flinch.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. They’re gonna know you’re awake. They’re gonna cover your mouth or stab you or put a pillow over your face or-

“Kitten?”

Your body shudders as you finally let yourself breathe. You grab your pillow as you quickly sit up and swing it at the face of your lover.

“I thought you were gonna fucking kill me?!”

Sylus laughs, chucking the pillow back onto your side of the bed. You can’t see him in the dark, but your body can’t stop taking in every ounce of him that it can. His smell - the bourbon and vanilla tinged with a natural musk. His voice - that rich, lively sound of his laugh and the breaths he takes. His touch - his hand, trailing patterns over the blanket at your hip.

You crawl toward him, clinging to his chest like a koala. He’s still shirtless from your escapades. His hand slides to your back, pulling you in tighter to him. You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You press your ear against him to hear more.

“Why would you think that?” he asks once he’s gathered himself.

You don’t answer. You squeeze him tighter.

“Sweetie?” The amusement is replaced with concern. His other arm wraps around you. The muscles tense with the slightest effort. He says your name.

Relief settles heavy in your bones. Tears prick at your eyes, while you remain utterly powerless to stop them. “It’s too dark,” you whimper. It’s all you can think to say.

His arms tighten around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him like you weigh nothing. He begins playing with your hair. “Does it scare you?” he asks softly.

You nod. You pull one of your hands out from around him to wipe the tears off your face and his chest.

God, you feel so fucking pathetic.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You don’t answer. His chest rises and falls with you on it, moving with his sigh. He pulls your hand away from your face and replaces it around him. You want to fight it. Complain about how gross it is to get all your tears on him. But he shushes you gently and you can’t find the strength to try.

“Do you want to go downstairs?”

You nod again.

The world shifts as he sits up with you. He pries you off of him so he can stand up, but he doesn’t go far. He grabs his sweater off the ground and helps you put it on. Then he goes through your dresser for some clean underwear. He helps you stand and slides them on. You don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see the darkness. So you hold onto his shoulders. You put all your trust into him, and he refuses to betray it.

He lifts you into his arms like you’re a damn princess. Usually, he’d throw you over his shoulder, but not this time. This time he’s careful, treating you with the utmost care as he carries you down the stairs and to the living room. With a wave of his fingers, the lights turn on, black and red left in its wake.

“It’s not dark anymore,” he promises as he sits down. You keep your face safely tucked into his neck. He rests his cheek on your head. His fingers go back to your hair. His other hand rubs patterns against your bare thigh.

After a while, your terror finally dissipates completely. You can see the light shining through your closed eyelids. Feel its subtle warmth against your skin. When you find the strength to open your eyes, the warm, comfortable ambiance of Sylus’s home greets you once more.

You use the sleeve of his sweater to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks. You cringe with embarrassment. “It’s stupid, I know.”

He hums noncommittally. “Is this what you were telling me not to worry about?” he asks instead.

You nod. “I was looking at… at nightlights,” you admit in a murmur.

“What kind?”

“Hm?” You pull back to look up at him. He lets you, meeting your gaze with a soft seriousness. “What d’you mean?”

He smirks slightly, eyebrow quirking upward. “I mean, what kind of nightlight would you like, sweetie? Fairy lights, a wall light, one of those animal-shaped ones that glows…”

You frown and look away. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“I’m asking,” he cups your cheek and guides your face to look at him, “so I can buy you one. Now, will you tell me, or do I have to buy every single nightlight on the market?”

You laugh despite yourself. “I have it pulled up on my laptop…”

He grins. “Good.” He pulls you into a chaste kiss. “Don’t hesitate to buy it next time. Or to tell me what’s wrong. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sad kitten.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #hurt/comfort #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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mcrdvcks · 4 months ago

Text

had this idea about a possessive!reader and logan because i feel it's not done nearly enough

warnings/tags: mentions of lipstick and hickeys, gn!reader

---

It started out simply. You realized you couldn’t give Logan a hickey like he could you. You would sit in his lap, sucking various spots on his neck, only for the bruise to fade within seconds.

So, you came up with another way to show others that he was yours, kissing his neck with your lipstick on in the mornings. The first time you did it, he didn’t even know. The flannel he wore didn’t cover up the pink lip mark on the side of his neck, and it was only until Scott hid back a chuckle that he went to check himself in the mirror.

But he didn’t stop you. In fact, sometimes you left more than one colored kiss, on both sides of his neck, the front of his throat, on his chest above his beater where his fuzzy hair peaked out.

Then you upped the ante. You gave him a string bracelet with your initials on it. He kept it on his wrist, and whenever another woman—or man—gave him a second look when you were out, you didn’t even have to say anything. You’d casually grab his arm, tug his sleeve up, and flash them the bracelet. Logan would just smirk, not saying a word, but the message was clear: he was yours.

At first, Logan thought it was funny. You, marking your territory in these subtle ways. He'd smirk every time you'd tug his arm up, making a point to show the bracelet to anyone who dared give him a second glance.

But then, he started to enjoy it more than he’d care to admit. The little things—your lipstick marks on his skin, the bracelet on his wrist—felt grounding. They were soft, easy reminders of the fact that he was yours, and you were his.

It wasn’t just about possession, though. It was about the warmth it gave him, the way you claimed him without making a big deal about it. It became part of the routine. He’d wake up, stretch, and by the time he was pulling on his shirt, you were already in front of him, lips painted a fresh shade of red or pink. He’d tilt his head, giving you full access to leave your mark on his neck, and sometimes, if you were feeling playful, you’d press one right over his heart.

“Damn, you really wanna broadcast it today, huh?” he’d joke, but the truth was, he loved it.

You’d grin and shrug, saying something like, “Just making sure they know.”

He didn’t mind. Hell, he found himself looking forward to those moments. It wasn’t just the way you made it clear to everyone else, but the way it felt. Having you leave those small touches on him, like some secret code only the two of you understood.

Logan wasn’t a man of words. He’d always been more action than talk, but with you, it was easy to show affection in a way that didn’t feel foreign to him. The way you’d hold onto his arm, showing off the bracelet like it was the most natural thing in the world, sent a surge of warmth through him. You didn’t need to shout your claim from the rooftops, but it was there, clear as day.

And honestly? He liked that. Liked knowing that he was the one you were holding onto, that he was yours.

One night, after you’d left another set of lipstick marks on him before a mission, Logan caught himself staring in the mirror a little longer than usual. There they were, bright and bold, like a damn signature. He couldn’t help but smirk.

You wandered into the room, already pulling on your jacket. “Ready?”

He turned to face you, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think you missed a spot.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh yeah? Where?”

He stepped closer, tapping a finger against his throat. “Right here. Could use another one for good luck.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but you didn’t hesitate. Stepping up, you pressed your lips to his skin again, leaving a fresh print. He hummed, low and satisfied, before pulling you into a kiss that was a little too heated for a mission.

“Guess I’ll have to mark you next,” he muttered against your lips, voice rough, a hint of promise in his tone.

“Maybe,” you teased, pulling away, “but for now, this’ll do.”

As the two of you walked out the door, his hand on the small of your back, Logan couldn’t help but feel content. He wasn’t a man who needed much, but with you, these little moments were everything.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett fic

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hoshifighting · 2 months ago

Note

I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️

staff!woozi

WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.

staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.

you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”

you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”

he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.

he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”

“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.

“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.

“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.

he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”

staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.

“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”

he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”

staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.

“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.

“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.

he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”

his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.

staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.

but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”

you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.

he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”

“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”

next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.

staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.

so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng

“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.

he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.

when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.

you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.

it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.

but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.

“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.

“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.

staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.

but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.

and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.

woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.

staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.

you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.

you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”

he glances over, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”

“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”

you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”

he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”

you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”

you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”

your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.

he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.

you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.

“so… you heard that?”

his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.

“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”

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