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Sorry, what are they doing on the Enterprise again??
#what's this feet based 69ing?????????? HEHEHEHHEE#Trip: And you're SURE Vulcans do this all this time?#T'Pol: Yes. O_O#no big deal. I'll put on my best low waisted crop top pajama set#you grab your pants (NO shirt please) and we'll get cracking#Just once I wish Tuvok did sexy neuropressure as like a smash cut gag#'well....-heavy sigh- I do know ONE thing that might work...'
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last night sucked. today was not great. i just don't know why i can't get past this. i thought i was doing better, except i must not be because i fully cried in the kohls dressing room and i haven't done that since i was like 12. i just want to LIKE my body. i don't even need to love it. i just want to look and the mirror and think "yeah that's me :)" i just want to be content. i am so tired of looking in the mirror every day and forcing myself to just take a deep breath, sigh it out, and move on. i am tired of avoiding looking at myself in the shower. i'm tired of only feeling comfortable in clothes that hide the entire shape of my torso. i don't need to be smoking hot. i don't need 6 pack abs and the fucking gills on my ribs. i don't need to be skinny. i just want to be comfortable. and i'm not. i haven't been since i hit puberty. and i'm fucking sick of it.
#mom and my sister were nice about my crying. but they did think i was upset because of my weight tho#which. yeah i'm bigger than i used to be#but i do also think i've lost some weight this year? cause i vividly remember being 217 at the beginning of the year#and now i'm back to like 205. so that's nice#but like my weight doesn't stop me from feeling like i look good#i think fat people can be very attractive. i have clothes i know i look good in#that's not my problem#but i can't explain any of that#and i just kept putting on blousy shirts and jackets that only have one button cause#'that's how women's jackets are cut' and 'women aren't supposed to button their jacket' and 'they are cut like that to show off your waist'#etc etc#and the pants were all cut to be swooshy wide leg or curvy flare#and all dressing room are required to have the worst fucking lighting on the planet#so i just. couldn't Not Be Aware of the shape of my body and it SUCKS#cause like objectively i looked good and fine and if i saw someone who looked like that on the street i'd think they were hot!!!!#but it's WRONG and there's nothing i can do to change it#and it's really getting to me lately
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What people need to understand is that even the smallest, shittiest bit of tailoring they do to their clothes can make a huge difference
#i have a pair of cargo pants that were a little loose at the waistband bc my hips arent as wide since i started t#and the button came off so i move it half an inch to take them in at the waist and now i can wear them without needing a belt again#so make a knot of thread to make the waistband a little smaller#cut and move the buttons for a slightly more flattering shape#cuff the ends with an uneven running stitch#do it bad but by god do it!! make your clothes your own!!#put messy too-big patches with thread that doesnt match it or the garment#be okay with changing things you dont like about your possessions#it changes your life. for the better#sev rambles
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A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte
[OC's]
(image description under the cut)
[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.
(First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."
(Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.
(Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.
(Fourth panel): The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.
(Fifth panel): Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.
(Sixth panel): The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."
(Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”
(Eighth panel): Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain. But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"
(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."
(Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.
(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"
(Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."
(Thirteenth panel): The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."
(Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks. Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]
This description was written and provided by Hiwi.
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I already had the pants that I made a couple years ago (interestingly for another wedding) so I decided to level up and add welt pockets to a vest.
Had a family wedding to attend and wanted to look my dapper best. I purchased a couple of bolts of this brushed cotton herringbone with the intention of making a three piece suit out of it.
Did a test run on scrap, cut out my pattern, sewed in my darts, and added the first pocket. Isn't it beautiful?
Reader, she should have stopped there.
I added the pocket to the other side, placing it the same distance from the top of the dart, not the bottom of the vest.
Grievous error that I didn't notice until I put it on after buttons, buttonholes, and topstitching. The pockets don't line up.
Curses.
So I did what any sane and normal person who is most certainly not under a deadline or anything and obsessed about it for a day before making a whole new vest, this one with one waist pocket and one chest pocket.
Final look, complete with pocket watch and purchased jacket (because I'm still trying to fit a jacket pattern).
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≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖
── mdni sexual content ; headcanons on how the boys would act with you (afab!reader) when you have a praise kink. inclusive of: praise (obv), pet name usage, dirty talk, teasing, general foreplay, vaginal sex, overstimulation.
featuring : rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne, caleb, jeremiah, luke, kieran.
an : this was a request i put off a liiittle bit bc i had to think of how i wanted to approach the prompt, but! it was super superrrr fun, and i maybe wrote a little bit more for each of the guys than i intended hehe <3
taglist : under the cut !! (SIGN UP HERE)
KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS
ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ
praise from rafayel is raw.
undeniably, during the day, there's a little part of him that would be a little shit about it—tease you to wit's end, preying on your little praise kink like it's a shiny little pearl he's found for him to play with. good girl~ here, pretty girl~ there… there'll be a little sing-songy tone to his voice, a teasing lilt, and sometimes it's more than you can take—sometimes you'll snap out of embarrassment, sometimes you'll maybe shove him away, sometimes all you can do is puff your cheeks up and do a little hmph. but really, it doesn't work out very much—"you're such a cutie, miss bodyguard."
but then there's a little switch that flips when the both of you are alone.
because the love that he has for you is overwhelming.
you're more than just a pretty girl, more than just a good girl, more than just the teasing little praises he's been singing all day just to rouse a reaction from you.
you're the love of his life. you're perfect to him.
and he's pounding into you as you writhe and moan beneath him, his hair clinging to his forehead, lips parted in heavy pants… his eyes are heavy-lidded with desire, but there's nothing more obvious in those pretty pretty magenta eyes of his— than how much he truly treasures you. his voice is breathless when he speaks, he doesn't stop the movement of his hips, so lost in drinking in the sight of you splayed on his bed like this—and maybe, all he can say is, "beautiful."
because sometimes, sometimes, he's just not the best with words. maybe he can't bring himself to form a coherent thought anymore but that; how beautiful you are, how ethereal, how perfect. between strings of moans of your name, maybe it's all he can say. but it's pure, and raw, and genuine in every sense of the word, almost like a cry tearing from his chest, because what he really means when he snaps his hips down to yours and fills you up with every last drop of his cum, is—i love you.
ꜱʏʟ��ꜱ
praise from sylus is enough to steal your breath away.
it's unexpected, mostly a surprise—albeit a pleasant one. and it's really not that he wouldn't do it often. it's quite the opposite, in fact; he'd do it often. because he knows. he knows exactly how to get you going, how to rile you up… and it's something that he would capitalize on, since your reactions have always been thoroughly endearing to him as much as they were amusing.
by this, i mean, it doesn't just stay in the bedroom. not at all. it slips into simple, everyday things. and that's why it's so unexpected for you.
after successfully completing a mission, he'd walk over and pull you towards him by the waist: "good job, sweetie." a basic task done in front of him, maybe something as simple as making yourself—or both of you—a meal, and: "what a good girl you are." the back-and-forth bickering you would sometimes have might end with him tapping a finger to his cheek, a little up, a glance of appreciation—"you're adorable when you're excited, sweetie." or maybe sometimes he'd walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, lean in to have his lips graze over the shell of your ear… "do you know that i'm quite fond of you? such a good, good girl for me."
he'd chuckle at the stutter in your motions, the flush on your cheeks… and he'd know you're defaulting to thoughts of the bedroom. especially when his voice would dip, all low and sultry, that satisfied, satisfied smirk on his face. 90% of the time, he'd get what he wants—which means you underneath him, fisting the sheets as he ravishes you whole; tongue, and teeth, and fingers… and more. of course, he'd aim for nothing more than to give you pleasure, and he knows how to make it better with just a few added words of praise.
"you're doing well, kitten. that's right, just like that… you make it so easy for me to worship you."
maybe he's conditioned you with it just a little bit.
xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ
xavier's praises are soft, but very direct.
he's not one to cut corners, not when it comes to the way that he sees you. like sylus, it slips into little, everyday things, half with the intention to rile you up, and half to genuinely just say what he's thinking. but as direct as his statements would be, he'd sometimes play a little coy. the irony is never lost with you. and yet, he'd do it anyway. all casual statements, blinks of innocence, smiles that would indicate he had zero idea of the effect he had on you.
you knew otherwise, though.
"you did really well," he'd say after a fight with a wanderer, "all that training really paid off." he'd nod, that familiar little nod that you know so well—to everyone else, it's so completely normal… and to you, it would have been, had the twinkle in his eye not been present, had his touch against your hand not lingered for a little bit longer than usual.
"i like your perfume today, it's nice," is how he greets you in the morning sometimes, with a smile that would have looked completely innocent—it not for the half-step he took closer to you, if not for the little twitch in the corner of his lips, if not for the way he'd reach over to move your hair from your face.
"your dress is pretty. i think it really fits you." a cute little compliment, no? you'd have taken it as such, but you wouldn't have missed the way his eyes would rake over your body, even with the slow, innocent blinks he'd give you afterwards. it doesn't matter that he offers you his hand for you to take, it doesn't matter if he brushes it off like he didn't just have every thought in his head on display for you. because at the end of the day, all of this turns into your fingers intertwined, you pressed up against your pillow, his head buried into the crook of your neck as he pumps his cock into you.
"mmmh… you're so good for me, angel, feel so good, so good…"
a little incoherent, not all that audible, but you can still hear it. he'd nuzzle into your skin, vibrations of his voice sending shivers through your body… there's something in him that doesn't quell him to stop, losing himself in how good you feel, how good you are. "you smell so good… you taste just as good, too, angel… you're so soft, so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, so pretty… nmh, don' want to stop…"
ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ
the way zayne praises you is quiet. gentle.
it's the kind that flows seamlessly into your ear like a soothing little melody… yet, his voice would carry with it a certain level of firmness, indicating that you have no other say in the matter. because he means it—and that's that. it's the kind of praise that's reassuring every time he'd say it, no matter how many times he'd say it. he's your safe haven. he knows how to make you feel better about yourself. insecurities? doubts? worries? gone, immediately. because that's the way it is with him.
it doesn't matter what about you he's praising, nor does it matter when. it's used less as a trigger for your pleasure, and more for him to be unfiltered with you. it doesn't matter if he's seeing you for a dinner date and you're all dressed up, it doesn't matter if he's coming home to you in your pajamas with messy hair and no makeup at all. it doesn't matter if you lose at a little board game the two of you had been playing, it doesn't matter if you'd won nearly half the stall at the carnival that day, doesn't matter if you're on the phone with him and there's a beat of silence as you listen to each others' breathing. it doesn't matter, either, if he's all the way inside of you, slow, rhythmic thrusts, lips attached to your ear—it doesn't matter if his hands had found their way to your chest, fondling and kneading at the soft flesh.
he'll whisper sweet words into your ear, always, whenever he gets the chance.
and at night, he holds you close, hushed words perfectly timed with each and every thrust. they aren't sweet nothings. they're sweet everythings. because he knows that these words are exactly what you need from him, exactly what you need to feel loved, and appreciated, and cared for. with zayne, praise is as genuine and as pure as it gets—sure, he'll cherish the way you whine in response, the whimpers that fall from your lips… he knows that it gives you an extra bit of pleasure, but that's a plus. more than that, he'd never fail to convey how much you mean to him. it's the perfect opportunity for him. just to hold you close, and make love to you like this, quiet, hushed little words of affirmations…
good girl. you take me so well, my love. you feel so good, darling. you're perfect for me.
ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ
praise from caleb is a little infuriating, but it works.
perhaps it's because you're much too used to bickering with him, all these playful little fights about anything under the sun that could usually end up in a fit of giggles—but praise from him comes off a little more like a tease sometimes, a little bit borderlining on mocking. not because he doesn't mean well, but, because… it takes a while for you to realize he's being genuine about it. he probably has to drill it into you himself—repeat it a few times, eyebrow raised, amusedly gauging your reactions. he'd watch you turn from a scoff, to a look of confusion, to the gradual realization that dawns—"caleb!" a gasp of surprise, and maybe you hit his shoulder a little, maybe he has to laugh.
but he means it.
he means it when he calls you beautiful, means it when he says you make him proud. he means it when he tells you how much you mean to him, means it when he tells you that there's no other person he'd rather be around like this, than you.
and he'd look you straight in the eyes when he says it again—repeats it, probably, for the nth time that day, trying to make you understand that it's real.
he repeats it even when he has you sinking into the mattress, pinned down by his weight, legs raised to his shoulder as he fucks himself into you. "yeah, you like that, right, pipsqueak? you're all beautiful like this, taking me so deep… fuck, i can't get enough of you. you're the only one for me, baby." he'd lift a hand to delicately trail down the side of your cheek, and you'd be astonished at the blatant swirl of lust and love settled deep in his eyes—filthy words punctuated with praise; he just can't help himself around you.
"mmm, pretty cunt all wrapped up around me… shit, i love you so damn much, why're you so perfect?" his hips would snap up so roughly, in contrast to the gentle caresses he'd leave over your body, in line with the way he's brought you up to orgasm after orgasm. "you're doing so well, baby, c'mon. you can cum again, just one more f'me…"
ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍɪᴀʜ
jeremiah's praises are a little bit… inconsistent.
not that you never know when you're going to get them, because he does it quite freely—pretty often, mostly whenever he feels like saying nice things about you, which, well… happens to be quite a lot.
but you never know how you're going to get them.
he's big on compliments, always has been. so sometimes it's extremely easy for him to whip out a few words of praise. maybe he saw a flower that reminded him of you. he'd send it over with a sweet letter detailing what you mean to him. or maybe he'd send a simple text, just a little "thinking of you today, princess!" to make you smile. sometimes, he'd give you a little kiss on the cheek, on the nose, say an equally simple "hey, you look beautiful today." or on other days, he'd play a little bit coy, maybe sending a little wink your way after some cheesy compliment disguised as a pickup line—playful, a little bit of a little shit about it, and these are the ones that probably get you the most flustered.
but as much as he prides himself in his way with words—literature lover at heart, poetry lover first before anything… well, sometimes he doesn't have words. not when it comes to you.
because, how can he? sometimes he's too overcome with emotion—the fact that you're here, the fact that you're with him, the fact that he can actually cup your face and look into your eyes and say with conviction that he's finally with the girl he loves more than anything else in the world. even more than flowers. even more than words.
and it's such times that he's more flustered than you. nevermind your praise kink—sometimes he's the one tripping over his words, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and flushing in embarrassment when the words won't come out right. there's a little less of the nonchalance, the playfulness. he tries to be more serious, but it backfires, because he is serious—about you, about both of you, about your relationship… and about how much he loves you.
so even in intimate moments, your body flush against his; even in the way that he kisses you, so tender and loving and sweet… even when he rolls his hips against yours in a slow, gentle motion, even when he'd make love to you under the dim lights of his bedroom… sometimes, his words just fail him. sometimes all he can do is look into your eyes and breathlessly moan out your name. sometimes he has to dip down and nuzzle into your chest, whining out something incoherent—something like a mushed up string of i love you's if you really listen closely enough.
there's a little less praise to go around.
maybe he'll call you pretty, maybe he'll call you perfect… maybe he'll say a little something about how good you feel, but they're lost and broken into moans, and maybe you're both too into it to really register anything he's saying. because for all that he prides himself with his words, he's really just a little too lost in the feeling of you to bother.
(in the end, it's easier for you to get his praise outside the bedroom…)
ᴋɪᴇʀᴀɴ
praise from kieran is… rare.
he's not used to it; not at all.
part of him maybe thinks he should do it more—well, no, he knows that he probably should, especially when he knows it makes you feel good. he'd admit it to himself that he likes getting you all flustered, enjoys knowing that he has a certain effect on you, that even a simple little praise is enough to give him such a reaction. but words of affirmation aren't particularly his thing, and it just… doesn't happen very often. if it did, it would happen randomly, with nothing too elaborate, maybe even just said in passing—mostly because he doesn't want to draw attention to it. there's a part of him that feels a little bit embarrassed about being so direct with his words like that.
still, it happens nonetheless, sometimes. and when it does happen, it's really truly almost as if there's nothing else you can think of but him. his words. the fact that he's actually really, truly, legitimately praised you.
pretty. just one word. he has you pinned against the wall, something of a knowing smirk visible on his lips as his fingers trace the curve of your jaw and dip lower.
good girl. two words, two fingers dip into your mouth for just a moment… and he's so pleased when you let him. so what else can he do but kiss you? what else can he do but press his body up against yours, feel the way you practically melt against him like this?
he's remembering truly just how much his praise gets to you, and it spurs him to act further—low grunts about how good you feel when he hoists a leg up to his waist so he can slide himself into you, all snug and comfortable in your wet heat... he could praise you for how well you take him, little words about how you're absolutely the best—"mmm you're driving me crazy, angel… just like that. good. fucking. girl."
it's rare, and he doesn't do it often. but maybe, sometimes, when he does start… it's a little bit difficult to stop.
ʟᴜᴋᴇ
one thing to be established is: luke's praises are constant.
they never stop. you hear them so goddamn much. in fact, maybe part of you even feels a little used to it.
it happens nearly all the time, as many times as he can think to—sometimes a little bit teasing, sometimes just to get under your skin a little, sometimes maybe a teeny bit (a lot) obnoxious about it… or, sometimes, in a softer tone, a little more genuine than usual. but the root of it really remains to be that he'll take every little opportunity to throw a compliment your way. especially when he realize it affects you a little more than he originally thought. because the way your heart rate accelerates? the way you'd freeze in place for even just a tiny tiny moment, every single time? even the way your cheeks heat up, maybe sometimes the way your eyes would dart away from him to look at anything else in the room… it gives him pure joy, and it only makes him want to do it more.
"heyy, pretty little miss hunter!" in simple, everyday settings? he'd be so casual about it when he sees you, maybe throwing a little wink your way. the grin on his face would be so telling about how much he just knows. "you look cute today!" or, "that thing you did just now was really cool!" or even just, "what's my pretty girl up to this time, huh?" and it gets your brain blanking in seconds.
but it doesn't compare to the bedroom—a quiet place where he's softer, gentler… where all you can hear are his praises, about anything and everything, hands moving over your body in tender, petting caresses. "your skin's super soft," he'd mumble. "did you use a new shampoo, or something? smells real nice." and he'd dip his head into your neck, lick at the sensitive patch of skin… his hands would slide between your legs, rubbing teasing circles over your clit. "mmm… tastes good… feels good…" he'd dip his finger in, gathering your slick, chuckling at how much there already is— "damn, sunshine, so wet for me? that's what i like to see."
it's a little infuriating, in a sense. he finds every little thing to praise, but… he means it. there's so much of you to praise. it's more than just how well you take his fingers, his tongue, his cock; it's more than just how good you feel or how good you're being for him… it's just, everything. he wants to say what's on his mind with you, and especially behind closed doors? he's got a whole lot of thoughts, and all of them happen to be good things about you.
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#love and deepspace smut#love & deepspace smut#lnds smut#lads smut#l&ds smut#love and deepspace x reader#love & deepspace x reader#lnds x reader#lads x reader#rafayel smut#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#sylus smut#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#xavier smut#love and deepspace xavier#xavier x reader#zayne smut#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x reader#caleb x reader#caleb smut#jeremiah smut#luke and kieran#(this user is a luke and kieran truther)#divider by cafekitsune#✿˖°. roxiefic#ʚɞ*.゚. lnds
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O.F. COUPLE
nanami kento x fem! reader
cw: filmed sex, creampies, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (tagged as fem reader because kento refers to you as his wife, but aside from that & genitalia there are no specific fem descriptions), cum eating
It wasn’t like your page blew up over night, but the rise was definitely quick.
Turns out a lot of people were drawn to a couple who played no gimmicks. Didn’t put on a show. Hell, didn’t even do this for money. Nowhere in your eight videos posted to the hub did you splice enough content together to reel in engagement only to direct watchers to another platform hidden behind a paywall.
Not that your viewers wouldn’t use one hand to punch in their credit card information if that was the case.
It was impulsive at first, the filming of it.
A steamy night that started in the living room, lingering touches and hot kisses. Always followed up by grinding that had you both struggling to decide whether or not that’s how you wanted to finish or if those handful of seconds away from each other to undress was worth the high. You two ultimately chose the latter. A trail of clothes leading to the bedroom, Kento fishing his phone out of his pocket before dropping his pants and for some reason it felt oddly heavy in his hands.
He gave you a look, the look. It wasn’t unfamiliar to you, there had been plenty of times in the past where you’d filmed short videos of your intimate moments. Kento’s head between your legs, looking up at you with pussy drunk, half-lidded eyes. Hands flexing around your thighs as he licked his lips. Or awkward overhead angles of a makeout session so hot that it almost left your lips raw. Most videos were the last few seconds of Kento’s orgasm– you already delirious in your high– his breathy grunt cracking through the speakers before the microphone had time to adjust, recording the delicious squelch of your cunt letting him go as he pulled out. A thick glob of cum followed a few seconds after. His thumbnail white as he pulled one of your cheeks to the side to show the camera how you gaped for him.
You didn’t upload those videos, though. Those were a keepsake for your eyes only.
The videos that you posted to your account were always filmed at one of three angles. Atop the dresser that stood right across your bed or propped up on the lamp housed on your bedside table. The third angle was rare. One that was seen in a singular video.
Wife Rides Husband’s Cock, Begging To Be Filled After Two Weeks Apart - Close Up Creampie
The only video that had any cuts in it. Just one cut from the first wide angle, your figures backlit by the window behind you as you sat on his upper thighs, Kento’s head propped up against the headboard. Hot hands smoothing up and down your sides. Just enough light hitting your faces for the viewers to see your whispers, the phone far enough away that the only murmur his phone’s microphone could pick up was the bubbling giggled that had you lurching forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. There was just something so genuine about you two that drew the readers in. How, besides capturing an inherently intimate moment, they could see how much you cared for each other once the cameras were off.
Half the comments always swooned about how sweet the two of you were no matter how rough or intense the content was. The other half of them comments on this video in particular was songs of praises and gratitude for the second angle.
Filmed from Kento's POV everyone got to see how you bounced and grinded, the way your thighs flexed and your hips wiggled. Everyone commenting the timestamp 21:06 when your fingernails dug into Kento's toned stomach, scratching the expanse as you huffed about how close you were. Kento's hand wrapped around your waist tight enough for your flesh to deliciously spill over the edges. god, did he love that. He would've commented on it if he wasn't more concerned about your comfort, asking if you wanted him to take over. You shook your head wanting to do it to the end, knowing you could. Begging Kento to cum with you because you were so, so close. Dragging him practically by the neck to join you as you whispered dirty pleas for him to fill you up. How you felt so empty while he was away.
This second angle was a godsend. Propelling the video to the top rank of verified couples. The way you fell over the edge together in itself already had most of your viewers making a mess on their own end, but the way you leaned back exposing the creamy ring that adorned the base of Kento's cock. Your glistening cunt so puffy and loved. The way you slowly rose up despite the fatigue in your thighs, previewing the mess between your legs as it streaked down Kento's cock. That had your watchers groaning, kicking themselves as the need for their hand to drift back to their crotches grew. The groan that reverberated from Kento's chest and the soft gasp that left your lips as you rose high enough for his heavy length to slip out of you, slapping his pelvis with a thick squelch was what made most, if not all, of them continue through the overstimulation.
No matter how much time had passed since posting that video, you still had comments coming in every day of people on their knees begging, offering ridiculous sums of money to get just a taste of that third angle. Just one more video where they could watch Kento's cum drip out of you and back onto his cock. Hell, even just a split second of your cum soaked cunt before the screen blackened to reflect their pathetic faces as Kento dropped his phone onto the mattress, unable to hold himself back from licking you clean. A lot of your viewers having confessed that they return to this video just to hear him devour you, sloppy smacks of his lips, heated groans and your weak mewls enough for a quick session.
You had devout watchers. People who never even ventured the amateur category had notifications on for your posts. People who longed for the impromptu videos that came according to no schedule or pretext whatsoever. Most of which who couldn't believe you'd give them this content for free. They could tell how much you loved each other and how much fun you had during these moments. Their hearts aching and fluttering for the whispers and smiles and the soft kisses that never managed to interrupt the flow that would lead to the signature plaps just minutes later.
They'd given and continued to give you so much love, the two of you figured it wouldn't hurt to plan a celebratory milestone video and maybe, just maybe you could convince Kento to film that third angle again.
A/N: i kinda wanna write more of this
nanami kento x reader master list
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk fic#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#nanami kento fic#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jjk nanami#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#nanami kento x reader smut#nanami kento x you smut#kento nanami#nanami
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄|𝐉𝐉𝐊
Cut your good girl act
Paring- stalker!jk- “good girl”!reader
Warnings- stalking, unsolicited pictures, obsession, masturbating, cum eating, protected sex for 2 sentences, unprotected sex (sigh), rough sex, choking, biting gagging, spitting, cumming inside
Word count- 1.6k
A/N; This is a repost, cause I hated it (it’s literally the same)
Not edited (sigh again)
☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆
Jungkook sits on the ridge of the facility across your home. His fist tightened at the scenery of you solely in your towel.
The Sheer white curtains do not show any privacy from this point of view. He sits gazing at you the bulge in his pants tinting his jeans.
He rolls his hand over his dick aching at the discomfort. He grabs his camera snapping a few pictures of you. You stand stripped in front of the mirror darting at yourself running your hands past your thighs.
Skimming up the waist as you drag on your underwear. The tiny purple Lacey thong. You veer around a bit and Jungkook sees a full sight of your ass.
He fumbles his camera to take a picture but you had already shifted out of his view. He poses there in defeat and with a raging hard-on. Jungkook darts at you through the window. He moves back a bit and unbuttons his pants.
He sticks his hand in his jeans and starts to move up and down on his hard cock. The very little wind hits his smooth skin. He gasps wondering how disgusted you’d be if you caught him jerking himself off in front of your house.
But he stares at you as you put on the matching purple bra. He pants as he grips his cock tighter and moves faster his body warming up. He closes his eyes mouthing to himself “Fuck fuck fuck” he goes hard and fast his arms jolt from the friction and he is almost there.
The white euphoric feeling presses at him “Please baby come, come please” he pleads to himself moving around your room.
You lying on your bed that sits in front of the window. You lay Diagonal so jungkook sees your side. You lay on the bed with your underwear on bend your left knee and open up your legs.
Your hands brush your waist as you trail your hand down to your underwear you rub yourself and jungkook stops realizing what you’re doing.
He continues to move up and down on his cock. You touch yourself getting lost in your pleasure. Your back arches and you moan at the sensation of your body tingling from the white heat you're providing for yourself.
Jungkook stares in awe, thinking about all the things he could do to you. How he could break into your house and make you his.
Have you begged for his touch, his hands exploring every inch of your body? Learning you and what turns you on. How your friends would react to sweet innocent Y/N touching herself wearing the sexiest underwear?
His hands pump himself fast the warmth climbing up his abdomen, and he’s almost there. He fists faster his eye blurring at the movements. He comes his cum hitting him in the face under his nose and cheeks. He stares up at you.
You coming off your high. Two fingers dug deep into yourself and the other hand pinching your nipple. You shake at your orgasm your back arching so far off the bed.
Jungkook smiles and he places his cock back in his pants. Taking his camera taking one finally shot of you pulling your fingers out your warmth and sucking your fluids off your fingers. Jungkook does the same licking his cum coated fingers.
~
“Y/N” you hear his voice, you're also staring at the very explicit pictures that you received in your school mailbox.
You had thrown them away, planning to forget about them.
You look up and Jungkook who stands in front of you. A wide grin on his face. His eyes are big and shiny.
“How did you get these?” Jungkook hums. Standing next to you. He has a black bag in his hand. Pulling out a black thick folder.
It can’t be
“I took them, I told you I was interested in you” he throws the folder on the table. He opens it. The first picture is one of you masturbating on your bed. Your fingers are deep inside of you. Your mouth agape, you stare at him.
You close the folder. Snatching it off the table and onto your lap.
Your eyes are watering, your are embarrassed. You look around at the not-so-busy coffee shop.
“So you decide the stalk me and take naked pictures of me?” you look at him. His eyes bore into yours.
He nods “They are just so beautiful” he smooths a hand over yours. He tries to take the folder in your lap. You grip the folder as if your life depended on it.
It does actually, if those pictures get out your reputation will be ruined. You’ll be the laughingstock of campus.
You take a deep breath.
“So what do you gain in this?” jungkook laughs on the other side of the table.
“I know your secret, that you are a sick slut that chokes and fingers herself to get by. The list goes on. You wouldn't want your friends the find out huh?” you shake your head.
“Then, all you have to do is be my girlfriend” You stare at him, cursing his big innocent eyes that make him look so soft.
“ Okay,” you say in a calm matter. Jungkook wipes your tears. He kisses the side of your face. You let your tears fall and Jungkook just smiles
~
“Jungkook please” You pant under him but he continues his sloppy thrust into your dripping cunt. Your knees are pressed down to your chest, jungkooks body weight holding them down.
Both of your hands are held above your head where you can’t even savor the touch of jungkook skin
“Please let me-“ jungkooks lips land on your lips, shutting you up. His lips moved against your soft lips taking your last breath, drinking away all of your pleadings.
He pounds into you harder, your cunt probably bruised from the force.
“You like this baby” he pants
“You like it hard, I know you do. You fucking minx” you whimper at the name.
“Go faster…please” Jungkook laughs at your remark giving you what you want. He flips you over. “Ass up” he pushes your head into the pillows. Place a warm kiss on your back.
He grabs onto your hair. Thrusting into you heavy and fast the bed frame slamming against the wall. jungkook smacks your ass.
“Say it, baby” You don’t answer fast enough from him. He stops his movements
“No please” You move back trying to fuck yourself on his cock. But you feel your high wash away.
You groan “What the heck” You look back at him.
“Say it?” He looks at you gripping your ass. “We are having sex right now”
He laughs, “Use your big girl words” he half thrusts into you once. “Fu-“ you say.
For the last few weeks, you’ve getting used to Jungkook. It’s been about 5 months. You’ve warmed up to him. Everything has fallen into place.
Jungkook saw you talking to your friend on the phone ( through the many cameras he placed in your dorm) he heard you talking about how you want to take control during sex.
Jungkook considered that. He wants to break you down so bad he wants you the be vulgar and nasty. He wants you to tell him to fuck you harder.
Cut your, good girl act
You grow impatient. The heat washes away. You lift yourself leaning back causing Jungkook to sit on his knees as you ride him. The mirror in the corner of the room catches.
Your cord has snapped, you are tired of Jungkook at his controlling ways. The switch has flipped and this is what he wanted. For you to break your good girl act and show him what you are.
A nasty slut
You fuck him rough and hard not stopping your legs burning like crazy. You turn to face him riding him regularly without letting him slip out. You jump on him
Grabbing his face. Jungkook smiles “There she is” you slap him. Grabbing his face again opening his mouth pushing your thumb on his tongue. Your fingers dig into his face. The frustration eating you alive.
Jungkooks face burns with the slap but it makes him harder. He sucks and bites on your finger. As you stare at him. Your eyes are dark, your pupil’s burning.
“You want me to fuck you like this,” you say, riding him to his end, and Jungkook moans and grunts. He’s close to coming.
“I want you cum inside of me” you whisper in his ear. The condom on his dick is the only thing separating you from that.
“Oh yeah,” Jungkook says with a smirk. You slap him again but harder. You suck on his neck marking him.
“Want you to fill me with your cum, so you can eat it out of me later” That almost sends Jungkook over the edge.
“Take it off” Jungkook pants, you smile. Letting him slip out of you. Yanking the condom off his cock slipping him back into your sopping cunt.
“I’m not going to last” Jungkook pants. “I’ll just keep fucking you then,” you say as you push him flat on the bed
You ride him hard. The bed in the verge of breaking. You grind and pounce on him.
Jungkook grabs your hips and you shove your fingers down his throat. He gags, and you lean down to spit a glob of Saliva down his throat.
Jungkook has never been out of control in bed. He doesn't mind it though. Since it’s you, he’ll enjoy it from time to time.
“I’m gonna come” Jungkook moves his hips at the same pace as you.
“Yeah, cum inside of me”
“Of course, baby” Jungkook looks at you deadpan in your eyes
“Gunna fill me up so good” Jungkook nods, pushing your chest closer to his.
“Make me yours, I’m your Jungkook all yours” Jungkoosk's heart races
“Forever?” He questions, this is what Jungkooks has been waiting for. For you to be his, to never leave him. He can own you and do whatever he wants to you
“Ye- yeah, yeah, I’m forever yours” Jungkook comes and he shoots the long ropes of cum into your cunt.
You moan as you feel the white thick liquid in your Cunt Splattering all over your walls. You chase your Orgasm. You also fall off the hill
Your body shakes on top of jungkooks. He sits up and holds you free. Hugging you, looking at him kissing you deeper and raw. He stays inside of you for a while longer. To make sure his cum doesn't seep out.
Cause you are his and his only.
“I love you,” Jungkook says as he slips out of you.
“You are forever mine”
#@ᴍᴀɪsᴀɴsʜɪɴᴇ#bts#bts jungkook#bts smut#bts x reader#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook x you#jeon jungguk#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#jungkook x reader#yandere jungkook#jeon jungkook smut#bts jeon jungkook#bts smau#bts jk#bts fanfic#kpop smut
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[7:00 pm] ft. kita shinsuke
wc: 400
When Kita Shinsuke had told you that you were his first serious girlfriend at the age of 26, he had apologized in advance for his “inexperience.” He had never kissed, never held hands, never had sex. His reddening cheeks had been so endearing when you gave them a pinch.
But his concerns turned out to be completely unfounded, because…
Currently, he has you pinned underneath him, kissing you without any traces of hesitance.
He had started off gentle, large palms cupping your face while pressing close-lipped pecks into your lips. Then they were traveling, one hand moving to the back of your neck to simultaneously push you closer and tilt your face up. He slowly lowers you until you’re on your back, one hand making its way down your body until it’s stroking your waist, encouraging you to arch your back and roll your hips against him.
The thought of slowing down to check in with him goes out the window when his tongue starts to tangle with yours and holy shit it feels like he’s getting more aggressive with every gasp he manages to pull from your throat. Both of his hands capture yours, intertwining your fingers above your head, effectively putting you in a position to surrender.
And with the next (completely involuntary) roll of your hips, he sticks a pillow underneath your arched lower back.
“Where did you learn that?” you pant against his lips.
The look he gives you is innocent and confused. “Figured you might be more comfortable with support. Is that the wrong thing to do? I’m sorry…”
“No, no. That feels nice. It’s just… how did you know-”
Satisfied, he cuts you off to continue, pressing even harder than before. It takes two hard tugs of his shirt and three weak pounds to his shoulder to get his attention again.
Reluctantly, he gives you an inch of space, but he doesn’t break eye contact when he uses a thumb to wipe off his saliva coating the corner of your lips. “You okay?” he rasps.
“J- just need a second to breathe.”
He smiles, pressing kisses to your eyelids.
“You’re really good at this, Shin. Sure you’ve never kissed anyone else before?”
He ignores your ribbing. “You feel okay now?”
You giggle. “Uh-huh. But answer the-”
“Good,” his damp thumb comes up to press on your swollen bottom lip. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
#noos writes#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x reader#hq fluff#hq imagines#hq x y/n#hq x reader#hq x you#kita shinsuke#shinsuke kita#kita shinsuke fluff#kita shinsuke x reader#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x y/n#kita fluff#shinsuke kita x reader
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tits, ass or thighs?
ft. kuroo, iwaizumi, oikawa, bokuto, tsukishima, atsumu, osamu
warnings: i mean... the title speaks for itself i think! implied fem reader ; also not proofread
MDNI!!!
☆ kuroo : tetsuro is a simple man. there isn't a single thing he doesn't like about you. but the man absolutely adores thighs. put on a pair of shorts or a miniskirt and he'll fall to his knees. to be fair, he's a man of taste, so not only does he love thighs, but he's also a sucker for ass. can and will smack it whenever he can, not even in a strictly sexual way, but simply because he likes having his hands on you. ass and thighs will absolutely be used as a pillow, there's no debating it. he will also not so sneakily squeeze your thigh while sitting down or grip it while he’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat. hell, he’d die between your thighs if he could, because let me remind you, this man is an EATER. (just leaving this here)
☆ iwaizumi : i mean, have you seen him? ass. he physically cannot function if he sees you in tight skirts or pants and his hand can always be found in your back pocket if you two are walking together. definitely lightly smacks your butt to celebrate or tell you that you're doing a good job (throwback to him smacking makki's ass bc he scored a point). loves loves looooves to leave marks on it - fingerprints, bites, hickeys, you name it - and he will shamelessly stare at it in public.
☆ oikawa : i think we can all agree on the fact that this man loves tits. seriously. doesn't care if they're big or small, he just loves your chest. he will absolutely use them as pillows and/or slip his hands under your shirt while you're cuddling. loves to see you walk around the house without your bra on, bonus points if you're wearing his clothes. and if there's one thing that makes his knees weak it's seeing tan lines on your chest - one look and he's over the moon. he also probably has a thing for cute lingerie, especially cute bras - or rather, he has a thing for taking said cute lingerie off of you.
☆ bokuto : don't ask him. he genuinely cannot choose, it's physically impossible for him, especially because he's got his hands all over you 99% of the time. probably has a slight preference for ass but he doesn't even realize it. you definitely have his handprints all over your ass because he cannot for the love of god control his strength but he also profusely says sorry if he ever hurts you. either way, wear anything remotely tight or revealing and he's gonna lose his mind.
☆ tsukishima : he will never ever admit it, but tits. he says he doesn’t care and claims to love every part of you equally, but you’ll definitely catch him lacking if you wear anything low cut. of course, he isn’t the type to shamelessly stare at your boobs, we’re talking about kei after all, but you know him, and you can tell his eyes linger on your chest just a little more than usual. and also, they’re the first place he reaches for when cuddling gets a little spicier. probably likes leaving marks on your tits because they’re not as visible as your neck and because he swears that ‘hickeys are stupid’. he still does it nonetheless. again, doesn’t mind if they’re big or small. he just loves them.
☆ atsumu : take a good look at him and tell me this man isn’t a certified boob lover. seriously. bonus points if you have your nips pierced. he just loves boobs. back hug? his hands are finding their way on your chest. cuddling? his face is pressed between your tits. doesn’t give a fuck about looking like an idiot while gawking at them, either. he’s just completely enamoured with them, probably loves to suck on them too. also, i feel like he has a thing for girls with tiny waists, don’t know why. he too loves to spoil you with pretty lingerie and definitely loses his mind whenever he sees a bra strap peeking out of any of your shirts.
☆ osamu : now, hear me out. osamu miya loves to cook. he also loves a woman who EATS. for this reason i’m a firm believer of osamu being a man who loves thighs. loves having his face between them, using them as a pillow, biting into them. he will go insane for thigh highs and absolutely adores when they get bigger as you sit down. there’s nothing this man appreciates more than a pair of pretty legs showing up under a short skirt. he would gladly be crushed by your thighs, but he doesn’t dismiss ass either. generally, i think he likes everything - but thighs, they’re his utter weakness. expect many, many hickeys and marks all over them. and, just like kuroo, i just have the slightest feeling that osamu is a munch - make him suffocate and he’ll die happy.
@yamsfrecklvs
#kuroo tetsurou#hq#hq kuroo#hq x reader#kuroo headcanons#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu x reader headcanons#hq imagines#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#osamu miya#osamu miya x reader#bokuto koutarou#bokuto x reader#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima imagine#oikawa imagine#iwaizumi x you#hq iwaizumi#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu oikawa#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu iwaizumi#haikyuu tsukishima
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don't wear your new perfume around zoro, he’ll fuck you till you sweat it all off
he can’t stand that fake shit, it makes his nose itch and puts him in a bad mood as soon as he catches a whiff of it. it sets his teeth on edge when you walk by and instead of smelling like sun and sea and home, you’re covered in something cloyingly sweet.
but he’ll never say a word to you about it, not when it makes you smile like that whenever you splurge on a new bottle.
he learns to deal with it in other ways.
which is how you end up folded in half, zoro gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread open and pinned while he fucks into you slow and deep. you’re gleaming in the moonlight that pours in through the window. zoro tracks a bead of sweat trail down your neck and its hardly settled in the column of your throat before he’s bending low to lap it up.
he feels your laugh more than he hears it, “gross.”
“what, you want my mouth somewhere else?” he lets you break free of his hold on your legs only for you to wrap them around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.
“if you stop, i’ll cry.”
“baby,” zoro reaches up to cradle your head in his hands, your cheeks warm against his palms, and waits until your gaze locks on his, “you’re gonna cry anyway.”
you always do when he loves you right like this, chest to chest, sharing breaths, grinding his hips in circles and giving your swollen clit the attention it deserves. when the tears come, like he knew they would, zoro laps them up, too. he’s earned them, hasn’t he? why shouldn’t he get to indulge?
the heat between you only grows as his pace picks up, chasing your pleasure and his with all the eager hunger of a beast smelling blood in the air. he knows you’re close when your arms come around to pull him in even closer, one hand between his shoulder blades, the other on his ass.
zoro cums with salt on his tongue and your nails dragging down his back, fucking you through his orgasm and past the sweet pain of overstimulation because he’d slit his belly before he left you wanting for a single fucking thing.
and when you collapse back against the sheets, sweat-slick and panting from your high, he can’t help the feral slash of a grin that cuts across his face. you finally smell right again, like yourself.
sun and sea and home.
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Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.
He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.
Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.
"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.
"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.
"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."
He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.
Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."
"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."
Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."
"Is it?"
He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."
"My point exactly."
His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.
---
The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.
Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.
Or so Eddie thought.
Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.
"Harrington?"
"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."
Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.
Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"
The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.
By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.
The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.
His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.
Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."
And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.
Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.
Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.
It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.
They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.
"You won," Steve says.
"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."
"You deserved it."
He shrugs. "I don't know about that."
"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"
Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"
Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.
"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.
"You--what?"
"What if I did mean it?"
"You're straight."
Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."
"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"
"Um. Since you invited me to this?"
"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"
"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"
"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"
"I thought that happened to everyone!"
"It doesn't!"
"That's what Robin said!"
They're both yelling.
"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.
"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"
He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.
"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"
"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."
"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."
Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."
"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.
He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.
"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."
He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"
"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."
Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.
"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.
"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."
And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.
He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.
Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."
"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.
"Why not?"
"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.
Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#friends to lovers#famous eddie munson#regular guy steve harrington#feelings confession#oblivious steve harrington#the grand tradition of steve harrington not realizing he's bi#eddie falls first steve falls harder#eddie's so cool about it#grammy award winning eddie munson#vaguely inspired by lupita and joseph at the oscars#driver roll up the partition please#a little bit spicy
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everybody loves my baby
an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶
tw: v!olence, sex
✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.
✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.
"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."
he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.
"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"
the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.
"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."
he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."
✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.
"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.
✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.
''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.
✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.
✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.
✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.
you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.
''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.
✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.
✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.
✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .
''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.
✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...
✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!
✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header
@sinisternymphette 2024
#✦ . ࣪ ׅ aus#✦ . ࣪ ׅ fics#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fic#obx#obx fic#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#rafe obx#outer banks fanfiction#obx smut#outer banks smut#outerbanks rafe#outer banks imagine#rafe smut#outer banks#outer banks x reader#fanfic#gangster!rafe#gangster!rafe cameron#1930s au#Spotify
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.
about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”
after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.
“hah?”
you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.
katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.
not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.
you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.
just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.
katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.
“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.
shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”
“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.
bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.
freaking tease.
it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”
“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”
“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”
“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.
you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”
you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.
this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“
“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.
“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.
bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”
he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.
“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.
a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.
every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.
you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.
“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.
he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”
“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”
katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.
“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”
“oh…oh fuck you.”
“‘m trying babe.”
“fuck you. slut.”
“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo smut#bakugou x you#bakugou thirst#bakugo x you#bakugo thirst#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagines#bakugo drabble#bnha smut#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha fluff#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki
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toji x male reader
cw: dom male character, sub male reader,
wc 1.5k
freeloader toji who likes to pop in at your place n take a load off whenever he’s in the mood.
no text, no call, no nothing. just him showing up to sleep on your bed, watching his shitty tv shows on your couch after draining your fridge for everything it's worth.
you don't get no chance to say no cause he's way too busy telling you just what an absolute angel you are as he slips through your door. you won't even know he's there, promise. but it’s hard for him to keep such a promise when he’s such a terrible roommate.
he walks around half naked like he owns the place, sweatpants falling so low around his waist that his dick threatens to fall out with every step he takes..
when he feels like being more annoying than usual, he hangs around you, leaning against doorways and faking a yawn or two to stretch so you can catch the outline of his dick, and the way his body flexes.
it makes it hard to look him in the eyes when you're telling him to pull his own weight for the millionth time that week, and he knows it.
“you got a staring problem or what?” he teases, following the way your eyes trace down to the dick print in his loose grey track pants. guys like you are just way too fuckin easy. too flustered to finish, you let him off with a simple warning before leaving him be. but what he really wants is to force ya to quit talking his ear off by getting you on your knees and shoving his cock down your throat. maybe then he could finally put that mouth a yours to good use.
toji also gets so heated about the smallest things, moving you out the way so he can be the one to answer the door to all your one night stands and potential future boyfriends. taking way too much pleasure in how they shrink in on themselves when he sizes them up from the doorway, being terribly sweeter than normal to you with all his pet names and touchiness. it seems like his hand stays glued to your waist no matter how much you pry him off a you.
everytime another guy runs with his tail between his legs, you're pointing the finger at toji, but that man couldn't care less. it’s not his fault they're too pussy. he knows exactly the type a man a doll like you needs and he can give that to you better than any of those little boys ever could.
what's more is he has no sense of personal space. it’s always, “i was just looking for something,”
when he hovers so close you can feel his smile on your neck while you all bent over in the fridge, caged between his arms as his bulge rubs against the small of your back.
or “an accident” when he’s spreading out on your already too small couch and practically forcing you onto his thigh, subtly grinding you against it everytime he moves as his hand slips around your waist and under your shirt. he’s just tryna consolidate space, honest. it ain't his fault he's as big as he is. and it's definitely not his fault you’ve got such a dirty little mind.
and he's such a mess.. clothes, dishes, everything. you find them scattered just about all over the place. the worst offense, however, was a discarded package laying on your living room table. a fleshlight, you realized seconds too late, toji making his grand entrance the moment you're shutting the box closed.
you can tell by the shit eating grin on his face that playing it cool won't cut it, but you try anyway, pretending to get back to tidying up the table as he inches up close behind you.
“i don’t mind sharing,” he breathes, hand hovering on your waist a second too long as he reaches around you for his box, “if you let me watch,”
you stay still, waiting for him to laugh it off and turn back around, but he stays leaning over you.
“youre such a…”
“i’m such a what?” he tilts his head, hand subtly sliding down to the waistband of your pants, massaging where it meets your warm skin. he's rubbing in circles, fingers gently raking up and down your side till they're slipping under your pants.
your eyes trace the veins on his hand as you feel him squeeze at your bare thigh, your underwear hitching farther up as his thumb presses close against your clothed dick. your mind spins every time you feel him inching closer to your soft cock, taking in the thought of him pulling you back into his lap and sliding your pants to your knees so he could take care of you like you deserved. mind falling away, you let yourself lean back into his chest, your hand firmly placed on his arm to ground yourself.
“..or i can always give you the real deal,” he hums your breathe hitching as he gropes at your growing bulge, his words hot on the skin of your neck as you feel his hardening dick grinding against the curve of your ass, “if, that's what his highness prefers,”
you can feel the smirk on his lips as he presses a kiss against the side of your neck, and you blink away whatever trance he had you in.
“dickhead,” you mutter, slipping out of his arms and away from him, pretending not to notice his eyes trained on you as you break away. not once does that stupid smile leave his face as he watches you leave him and his half hard cock alone in the living room.
and that's he worst part of it all.. the worst part a him.. how smug he fucking gets. no matter how much you tell him off, no matter how much he teases you, he knows you can’t never stay mad at him for long. just a few touches in all the right places, a couple spoken promises, and you're like putty in his arms.
it don't matter how much tension you got pent up from his antics; at the end of the day, you're his. and he's always gonna be there to relieve that stress for you the best way he knows how; by bending you over whatever surface is nearest and railing you till you can't think of anything but the shape of his dick stuffed down your ass.
<3
“i was so lonely last night, yknow that?” tojis cock drills into you as you do your best to keep upright against the couch, “left me hard in the living room. had to take care of it all by myself,”
but you been knew that. he made no effort to hide it seeing how loud he was yesterday. you could hear him groaning your name and all the ways he wanted to have you from the comforts of your own bedroom, body hot as you kept your thighs pressed together, waiting for him to finish.
the moment you were back from your shift he was on you, pressing open mouth kisses as he made quick work of stripping you down. he had been waiting for what felt like ages to have all of you underneath him like this, so sweet and pliant in his arms, leaning into his heavy hands. coming undone at his every touch.
“what, nothing to say?” he grunts, grip on your waist tightening as you clench around him, sucking him back in with every thrust, his hands pulling your hips to fuck back into his, “or are you gonna let this ass do all the talking?”
you shake your head, helplessly grinding against the back of the couch as he splits you open on his dick.
“‘s too much,” you cry in between broken moans, burying your face in the nearest pillow in an attempt to hide how good he feels inside you. but he comes to a slow harsh grind of his cock, hands running all up your sides until they're resting on your shoulder.
he pulls you out of your pillow, forcing you to hear the lewd sound of his cock pulling out and leaving you empty. toji grunts, your tight hole not wanting to let go before its clenching around nothing, his pre dripping down the curve of your ass and off your thighs.
you do your best to stay steady on shaky arms, desperate whines muffled by your own hands as you feel him lining up again.
“you can take it sweetheart,” he rasps before ramming back into you, your ass spasming at the harsh thrust of his cock as he stuffs you full. your hand falls away from your lips, unable to hide the moans he rips from you as he pulls out and forces his cock into your ass again and again, making sure that the only thing your body will be able to remember is the shape of him inside you.
“that's it, doll,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss at the tears threatening to fall from your eyes as his strong arms keep you upright, “now let me hear you,”
#splataii writes#ummm so ig it wouldnt be too bad if he stuck around#bottom male reader#male reader insert#male reader smut#x male reader#sub male reader#dom male character#top male character#male reader#toji fushiguro#toji x male reader
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