#d completely useless.

[unopenablebox]

is there any human being on earth who doesn't have enough tote bags

[coffeeandinsanityy]

fucked up parents and their fucked up parenting

[eatingfireflies]

Have you ever wondered how Dimitri fire emblem got dressed for those 5ish years during the timeskip without his retainer I think about it more than I should

[dravidious]

The DeArrow extension is fucking NECESSARY for youtube sometimes

[xxsabitoxx]

Stay Quiet

Yuta x Fem! Reader Smut / characters are 18+

Warnings: semi-public sex, hotel sex, sex with someone else sleeping in the room, titty worship, raw sex, creampies, squirting

A/N: Baby boy is backkkkkk _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): since I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write smut… here is a smut imagine :D

Word count: 1.7k

“Y-yuta~”

Your back is arching into him, hand slapping over your mouth to try and suppress your whimpers. Your boyfriend isn’t listening to your quiet pleas, his head under your shirt, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples.

His only response is stopping his sucking to bite instead, earning a sharp cry from your lips that you quickly try and smother. Beside you, the bed is rustling as Inumaki tosses and turns in his sleep.

Not even a vacation with long time friends in a shared hotel room with two beds would stop Yuta from having his way with you. So long as you kept quiet…

“Yuta please…” you begging him, tone soft but labored as his hand tightened its grip on your side. Still, he didn’t respond, mouth far too preoccupied to speak.

You could only imagine the mess he was making, littering your skin in bruises and saliva to make you his. He’s always adored your breasts, both in the sexual and non-sexual sense. Sometimes he just needed to hold them, other times he needed to fuck them.

You never complained, not when he worshiped you the way he did… the way he was right now.

You could feel your eyes threatening to roll back, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud as his thigh pressed further to your covered cunt. You were soaked, Yuta could feel the dampness through your night shorts as they pressed into his bare thigh.

Yuta left your breast alone, kissing the bruises he left before turning his head to the one he had been neglecting. It sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, hand pressing to your mouth tighter as you couldn’t contain your whine.

He nipped at your skin, just hard enough to leave teeth indents that would turn into pretty bruises.

Your hips jerked as he bite down on your nipple, pain and pleasure making you clench around nothing. Your cunt dragged along his thigh, too many layers separating you to gain any real satisfaction from the friction.

“A-at least fuck me, Yuta.” You begged him, hand slotting back over your mouth as he sucked your neglected nipple. Still, you were left with no response, nothing but his hips jerking against your abdomen told you that he had heard your quiet plea.

You felt him, hard and heavy resting on your abdomen, straining in his briefs. If it weren’t for the sheer amount of body heat from being under the covers, you’d have been able to to feel the wet patch forming on the front of him.

Yuta indulged himself further, practically moaning as his hips rolled against you. “N-not fair.” You breathed, one of your hands coming down to rest on top of his head, not able to reach his hair since he was protected by your shirt. “So hot… Yuta I’m hot…”

You knew it was useless, he wasn’t going to stop anything he was doing until he was good and ready.

You could feel it though, your skin was starting to turn slick with sweat. So was Yuta’s, but that didn’t seem to phase him at all. Not when he was lathering your breast with his tongue and whining as he rut his hips against your abdomen.

So needy yet so controlling.

It was a dizzying mix, being completely at his mercy.

Your hips rolled against his thigh, trying to create some sort of relief since he was purposely ignoring you. Three rolls of your hips and Yuta’s grip was tightened, stopping you from moving all together as he released your nipple with a soft pop.

“So fucking needy.”

He practically seethed, pulling his head out from under your shirt to glare at you. “M-me?” You whisper yelled, face warm from anger and need. “Yes you.” Yuta shot back, the anger on his face didn’t concern you.

Not when you could feel his cock twitching.

“We’re both needy, you’re just mean, Yuta.” Your lip wobbled, head turning to look at the other hotel bed. Inumaki had seemed to settle into a deep sleep, back facing the two of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You shivered involuntarily, head turning back to face Yuta in record time. “If I fuck you, you need to keep quiet.” You nodded eagerly, but Yuta wasn’t satisfied.

“Promise me you’ll stay quiet.” You felt your breathing stop, taking a moment to start again as you quietly whispered “I promise.” Yuta still seemed skeptical.

“I still don’t believe you.” He mumbled as he began pulling down his briefs, just enough for his cock to spring free. “Yuta I mean it.” You whined, hands rushing to yank your sleep shorts and panties off for him.

“You’re never quiet, pretty girl.” Warmth flooded you, causing you to suck your lip between your teeth as your hips raised. Yuta helped you despite scolding you, tossing the two clothing items off to the side.

“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll stop.”

You nodded, taking your vow to silence literally as his fist wrapped around his cock. Your legs spread further to accommodate him, cunt throbbing with the desire for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me you understand, pretty girl.”

He froze just as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you further by prolonging what you needed. “I understand, Yuta.” And he pressed in, watching your mouth fall open as your chest rose and froze.

You were good, holding in the moan that was threatening to burst your lungs as he sunk deep. Your cunt had no resistance, swallowing his cock whole as he bottomed out inside of your tight heat. “Good girl.” He groaned.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, nails digging into his muscles as your legs locked around his hips. You managed to exhale the breath you had been holding, barely making a noise louder than a pant.

Yuta wasted no time, hips drawing back and snapping forward. Your head fell back against the pillow, mouth open as a quiet gasp left you. He was focused, head dipping down to watch where he appeared and disappeared inside of you.

Never mind being mindful of the noises you were making, Yuta had to be mindful of the noises your bodies made. Anything louder than the squelching and bed creaking and he was certain Inumaki would be waking up.

But it was hard to be rational when your cunt was suctioning to him, velvety walls begging to milk him for all he was worth. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

Every drag of his cock had you arching, scratching at his biceps as sweat dripped down your brow. You couldn’t think straight, breath catching in your lungs every few thrusts as you tried to ignore the urge to scream his name. “K-kiss me.” You managed to choke out.

It certainly wasn’t a whisper, the rustling in the bed over confirmed that. Yuta dropped lower, practically draping his body over you, hips rolling slowly rather than thrusting as he slotted his lips over yours.

Still, he was listening, silently praying Inumaki wouldn’t wake up because dammit he was certain he wouldn’t be able to stop fucking you even if he did.

“Y-Yuta-“ it was muffled, swallowed whole by his tongue slipping past your lips. You gave in, nearly melting into the mattress from his weight settling on you, the close proximity causing his pubic bone to brush your clit.

You felt it then, molten hot arousal pooling in your gut as he offered to the slightest bit of relief.

Yuta pulled away, saliva keeping your lips connected. “You have to be quiet, pretty girl. He almost woke up.” You nodded, eyes so bleary and lips so swollen that he couldn’t bring himself to really scold you.

Yuta found his pace again, hips smacking into yours and creating a soft slap that was just barely muffled by the hotel comforter. He was struggling to contain his own noises as your cunt clenched around him, one of your hands falling away from his bicep to sneak between you.

“Rub your clit for me, pretty girl. Make yourself cum on my cock.” It was a whisper but it seemed to echo off the walls of your skull, rendering you completely speechless.

You did as he asked, hand slipped down to feel your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in face circles as Yuta’s cock stroked your sweet spot. “Make yourself cum on my cock, please. You know how much I love that.”

You nodded, mouth hanging open as breathless pants slipped past. They were quiet enough to not wake Inumaki but if anyone were to enter the room, it would be painfully obvious what was happening.

Yuta watched you, eyes torn between watching your tits bounce with each thrust and watching where his cock kept disappearing inside of you. It was utterly entrancing, making him gasp as his cock twitched violently within your walls.

“I’m gonna cum, pretty girl. Cum with me please.”

His voice cracked, face sweaty and flushed as he begged you so sweetly. It sent electricity straight down your spine, clit throbbing as your orgasm built. The thrusts got harder, a little sloppier… and louder.

Not that Yuta could care in that moment, he seemed to forget everything he had been drilling in your head as he moaned your name. You whined, eyes widening at the volume of his voice as your walls clenched again.

You were close, fueled by the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside of you. “Cum with me, please.”

Breathless, you nodded, head falling back as you brought yourself over the edge just as Yuta did. His hips stuttering before burying deep, pushing against your cervix as he spilled his load in you.

You had barely registered the warm gush that flooded between your thighs, not until Yuta collapsed on top of you. “Fuck.” You offered weakly, feeling the dampness on the sheets below accompanied by your sweaty skin.

“We made a mess.” Yuta’s tone was sheepish, vibrating your neck as he spoke into it. “It definitely reeks of sex in here too…” you felt your face burning, realizing there wasn’t any windows open to allow ventilation.

“He’ll figure it out regardless.” Yuta sounded defeated but you could feel a smile on his face. “I’ll take the blame… since I’m the one who can’t resist your breasts.”

“You better.”

[cowgirlvi]

mdni. sub-bottom jinx. fem-top reader. strap-on usage. size kink. vaginal sex. squirting. rough sex.

jinx masterlist

word count: 1.9k

the first time jinx tries to ride your strap, she’s cocky—naively convinced that she’ll be a natural at it. but more than anything, she’s determined to put on a show for you, determined to turn you into a fucked-out mess for a change. she pictures herself bouncing in your lap, playing with her small tits as she grinds down against you, making your head spin with the pace she sets, riding your cock so hard that the friction against your clit would rival that of a vibrator.

despite only being in a relationship with jinx for a month now, she has taken your strap before—many, many times, actually—but always in the same way; laying there while you pleasured her, while you set the tempo, while you took care of her every need like a pampered princess.

and that’s the problem.

she began to feel useless—and, predictably, she got in her own head, wondered if you found her boring. how can it be fun for you to fuck her pussy every night and receive nothing in return?

so that’s when she decided, the next time the two of you had sex, she would get on top. she would take the initiative to make both of you feel good. she would be particularly skilled at riding cock.

now, in the present, she watches from the bed as you adjust the harness on your hips, teeth worrying her bottom lip. she’s already naked, already soaked, but suddenly, she’s unsure. should she sweetly ask to ride your cock? wait until round two? shove you down and take what she wants?

“you ready, baby?” you ask, crawling over her lithe body.

biting the bullet, jinx abruptly shoves your shoulders until you’re splayed on your back. she’s quick to throw one of her legs over your hips, her pussy sitting flush against your strap, soaking it with her juices already. you’ve only been together a month, but jinx has the wettest pussy you’ve ever seen.

“want to ride you,” she mumbles, her usual bravado cracking—shy in a way you’ve never seen from her before.

”are you sure that’s a good idea? you’ve never done that before.”

she stiffens, eyes narrowing, “i can take it.” 

sighing, you say, “just—maybe i should finger you some more? make sure you’re stretched enough?” 

“i said i’m ready,” and she’s already reaching for your strap, rubbing it against her soaked folds in long, deliberate strokes.

such an eager thing, the little minx. jinx is grinding against your cock with animalistic fervor, rolling her hips like a whore desperate to be fucked—which she is, you suppose. her slutty cunt is always in need of constant attention; always needing her hole to be stuffed full, her clit to be sucked on like a jolly rancher.

“aughh, unghh, fuck—“ she’s moaning noisily now, front teeth digging into her candy-red lips. but she’s determined, not going to let her own girlfriend dismiss her as some lazy, passive fucktoy.

so, jinx rises up on her knees and holds your strap beneath her, ready to impale herself on the length in its entirety. your cock looks monstrous in comparison to her tiny body.

”go slow,” you warn her and she scoffs.

the girthy shaft and bulbous head completely dwarf her small folds. she’s so wet that her pussy makes an obscene squelching noise when the head tries to pop inside her. however, the strap barely breaches her entrance before it falls against your stomach with a wet plap. her pussy is too small to fit your cock, and you’re wondering how you managed to stuff her full so many times before.

her brows are furrowed in concentration when she brings the head of your strap to her pussy again. she’s rocking and circling her hips, trying to coax her stubborn body into submission. again, your strap won’t go in. her pussy is fluttering and gripping at nothing, waiting to be filled. “shit, it’s too big,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “i can’t… it’s—fuck!”

one of your hands reaches up to palm jinx’s breast, the one with her blue, cloudy tattoos decorating the skin around her nipple. you rub her tit with your thumb in light strokes. “just relax, babe.” the hard peak of her nipple pebbles beneath your touch and jinx gasps. “let your body open up for me.”

she takes a shuddering breath, her owlish eyes squeezing shut as she focuses on the sensation of your thumb circling her nipple. slowly, she starts to relax, and at the same time she presses the head against her opening again. this time, the head slips inside her and she makes a noise of triumph.

from this angle—being impaled on your length all by herself—it feels impossibly bigger than it has in the past. despite this, jinx keeps rocking her hips gently, sucking more of your strap inside.

“hnng, fuck!” jinx pants. only half of your strap is inside her at this point and you wonder if that’s all she’ll be able to take.

her stomach and thighs clench with the exertion of holding herself up, so you move both your hands to her wide hips, stroking them soothingly where her hipbones protrude. 

she slides down further, only a quarter of your cock left. jinx whines whorishly while feeling herself stretch around your thick strap. her pink, gummy walls are clenching obscenely, her inner muscles fluttering around the stocky length. you wish you could actually feel her powerful contractions around you—her wetness, the warmth of her insides.

”oh fuck, oh shit—it’s so… so fucking big,” she whimpers. her lips are swollen and red from her biting them.

”can’t take it, baby?” you tease breathlessly, rubbing her hips. “your pussy looks fucking ruined.”

jinx shoots you a glare but it’s far from intimidating, not with her hazy, cockdrunk eyes.

stubbornly, she forces the rest of your strap inside her, her ass colliding against your thighs with a slap. and suddenly, jinx freezes in place. she’s trembling, that much is obvious, goosebump erupting all over her skin. she’s never felt so full before, so utterly stuffed and stretched and split open. the head of your strap is nestled deep inside her, kissing her cervix and making her toes curl against your bedsheets. jinx can feel every ridge and vein etched into the silicone; the texture feels deliciously abrasive against her sensitive walls.

jinx attempts to roll her hips once, before she freezes in place again. her nails are digging painfully into your breasts and you’ve never seen such a fucked-out look on her face before.

”mmffuck! aghh—holy shit, i—i can’t—it’s too much!”

what a sight she is, shaking and trembling and whining on your cock, so sensitive and stuffed full that she can’t even move. her brain is turning to mush, tongue sticking out dumbly while she pants. she’s gasping like a fish out of water, harsh and desperate.

“fuck, baby. you look fucked stupid and i haven’t even done anything yet,” you murmur, mesmerized.

”it’s so—so deep, aghh! so big, i feel so full,” jinx babbles mindlessly, her words tumbling out in a rush of pleasure and disbelief. you want to grip onto her small waist and piston your cock inside her, make her more dumb than she already is.

“i’m gonna help you move, sweetheart. gonna make you feel good,” you promise. you feel pussydrunk—high off the view of jinx stretched so wide around your strap. it’s completely obscene and it might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

you grip onto the plush fat of her hips and slowly lift jinx off your strap. she moans and babbles the entire time, feeling the silicone drag against her walls, until you slam her back down on your cock. her mouth falls open in a silent scream, her eyes roll back in her head, her eyelids fluttering as she struggles to keep them open. her tongue lolls out again stupidly, drool dripping down her chin as she pants and whines, completely out of her mind with pleasure. the sight of her, so fucked out and dazed, sends a dark thrill through you, a primal surge of lust that makes you want to ruin her completely.

you lift her off your strap once more and then allow gravity to pull her down—repeating this over and over again—and you grind up against her when she’s buried to the hilt each time, getting impossibly deeper.

”so sexy, baby—ah fuck, fuck, you hot little bitch.”

your strap is pressing just right against your clit, making you squirm and unintentionally thrusting your hips, forcing the strap further inside your girlfriend. you smack her ass hard, the sound echoing throughout your bedroom, and jinx sobs.

you start to thrust harder, faster, gripping jinx’s hips tightly as you piston up into her. the bed creaks and groans beneath the two of you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each brutal drive of your hips.

jinx face-plants into your chest. all she can do is lay against your pillowy breasts and take what you give her. the wet, obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, punctuated by jinx’s high, breathy cries. your eyes burn with a feral intensity as you stare at her ass rippling over her shoulder.

”that’s it, princess. take it, take it.” and you rub jinx’s back lovingly and gently, despite the fact that you’re destroying her pussy right now.

you set a brutal, punishing pace, planting your feet against the bed so you can fuck up into her with abandon. the thick head of your strap slams against jinx’s cervix with each savage thrust and the wet, indecent sounds of jinx’s pussy being split open echos throughout the room.

“fuck me, ngh, fuck me, fuck me—ohhh!” the only thing jinx can focus on is the repetitive motion of your cock fucking deep inside her. she feels like a cocksleeve for you to use—she is a cocksleeve.

suddenly, her back arches like a cat, her chest pressed flush against your own as her body goes rigid, stiffening like a bowstring pulled taut before releasing. her pussy spasms and clenches around the thick length invading her body, along with a keening wail as her pussy squirts between your two bodies.

”mmmf—oh, shit—! please, aghhhff!” jinx squeals like a pig, her body shaking and convulsing through the force of her climax. she clings to you like a drowning woman, and her juices gush out around your strap with a powerful force, her body humping against yours while she rides out her orgasm—which applies immense pressure to your clit through your strap.

your own orgasm hits you like a freight train, the pleasure white-hot and all-consuming. there’s so much blood pumping in your ears that you can’t even hear the noises you’re making, but you assume they’re nothing short of animalistic. your throat is sore, you think you screamed but you’re not quite sure. the pleasure is so intense that it momentarily short-circuits all your senses. you’ve never come this hard before, never felt an orgasm this earth-shattering, and it makes you question the very fabrics of your reality. 

jinx’s pussy milks the toy for all it’s worth before she calms down and becomes boneless on top of you. all you can hear is static as your own orgasm subsides, your sweaty skin sticking to one another. you pepper kisses along jinx’s face, her neck, her collarbones, while your hearts are pounding in tandem. you murmur words of praise and adoration against her skin—despite your tongue feeling heavy and clumsy in your mouth—and jinx hums in response.

the thick, musky scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the carnal act you’ve just engaged in.

(2/2/25)

[aquasoftware]

𖦹 SMASH OR PASS? 𖦹

Snippet | “Who you foolin’, doll? Look atcha—fuckin’ ruined for me.”

FT║ Fem!Reader ✘ Toji, F.

Desc║ A harmless Smash or Pass game in the break room turns into a real experience when Toji overhears your bold declaration—and later that night, he ensures you live up to your words.

Cw║ Smut proceed w caution, minimal plot, Co-workers trope, Dom/Sub dynamics, mānhandling, s!ze k!nk, tummy bulge, overstim, degrádàt!on/praise, creamp!e, chok!ng/breath play, light impact play, scratching/b!ting, a bit of säd!sm (?), humiliation, mirror sɛx, dumbǐfīcation, cocķ drunk reader, unrealistic d size, forced eye contact, implied consent + rough sėx.

WC ➜ 2.3K ➜ ML

15 minute read. | Fic type: Oneshot.

The break room was a breeding ground for gossip or useless conversations. An extremely comfortable olive-green sofa—dubbed the equivalent of a bear’s hibernation spot—stood out in contrast to concerningly constant flickering of fluorescent lights, an indented scent of roasted black coffee tip-toeing throughout the room, soon followed by cheap air freshener, while a few faded vending machines—marked with worn-out “Out of Order!” signs for what felt like decades completed the dreary atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the only real pop of color in the otherwise dull break room was the sofa everyone was obsessed with. And when you give employees a sofa with little else to entertain them you get insanely bored, unanimous groans echoing until someone suggests starting a corny game of smash or pass starring some other co-workers.

The thing is you weren’t particularly interested at first, completely tuning them out as you scrolled through cute orange cat videos on TikTok, your phone nestled in tired hands. That was—until someone blurted out, “Smash or pass Toji Fushiguro?”

A few people had the absolute nerve to say pass without even giving any reasoning. You broke your neck turning toward them, clicking your phone off to save a little battery—suddenly caring about the game you thought was so ‘stupid.’

You couldn’t deny it—you took that personally, as if Toji had already put a ring on your finger and asked for your hand in marriage on one bent knee. Lips parted without a second thought, you jumped in to defend him, readily interrupting, “Y’all are wild for passing thee Toji Fushiguro, but more for me, I guess. Smash. In fact, I’d let him manhandle me if I had the chance!”

You practically gushed, recalling every time his pecs looked one flex away from obliterating his poor, helpless uniform. The stretch of fabric over hard muscle, the teasing glimpse of skin whenever he rolled up his sleeves—it was certainly dangerous. And those brief glances you two shared? Just a flicker of eye contact was enough to make your heart stutter and your daydream-state brain short-circuit.

Laughter erupted, loud enough to deafen poor ears, splattered across the room, along with an appalled gasp from an observant co-worker.

“Oooh, speak of the devil…” she teased, wiggling her brows and covering her mouth.

Because, unluckily for you, Toji stood tall, folded arms, leaning against the doorway that nearly was unsuitable to fit his build. Clearly amused by your bold statement, a smirk rested easily on his face, piercing green eyes locking onto yours.

“Oh really, sweetheart?” he teased, running a hand through his short, jet-black hair. His chuckle was deep enough to shake the room, sending heat pooling between your needy thighs—yet startling enough to make your heart lurch at his unexpected presence.

“Oh my god, Toji, I didn’t mean-” you struggled to breathe out, your throat going dry as you shoved your slightly sweaty palms into your pockets.

Why’d he have to come in literally on cue? you thought, stomach twisting into knots, your skin burning like a furnace.

The room watched in silence, entranced, as if they had just been left on a cliffhanger in a movie, whispers shooting amongst them left and right.

Toji pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step inside. “Didn’t mean it, huh?” He kissed his teeth, eyes dragging over you in a way that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Shame, y’seemed pretty confident about that little claim a second ago.”

“Fine, fine, I said what I said.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, forcing yourself to stand your ground—even though you weren’t prepared for him to literally make you eat your words.

Because later that night, Toji had you pinned against his bedroom wall, facing him, one sore leg flung over his shoulder—completely vulnerable to his merciless speed.

Each brutal thrust knocked the breath from your lungs, the humid air filled with loud, staggering gasps. His grip was cruel, fingers digging into your hips as he kept your wobbly leg steady, smug at the way your body trembled under his touch.

The freezing surface of the wall contrasted with the intensity between the two of you, while looking in his direction at a time like this felt impossible.

Not that he let you look away—when you did focus anywhere else feeling embarrassed by how easily you let him fuck, his big rough hand grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him.

“Shit, that’s it baby, want you to look at me while you takin’ it.” He whispered, hot breath fanning all over your ear.

Your walls fluttered violently at his sinful words, your body bouncing feebly against the wall with every ram into your velvet walls. You could hardly take his strength, nothing more than a ragdoll for him to use, each filthy, deep stroke claiming you as his property.

His thrusts alone were enough to tell you—you were his little fucktoy.

Breaking eye contact for a brief second he peeked down seeing your one unsteady leg in action, borderline hissing at him for the amount of time he had you pressed against this wall.

“Mmmh, poor thing, huh?” he sneered, proud you struggled to keep up with him. “Leg already shakin’ we’ve barely even started.”

A taunting lie.

You had been at it for hours. There was no way in hell this was just the beginning. You could barely believe your ears when he had the audacity to say otherwise.

Before you could even attempt to reply, his hand shot up to your throat, thick fingers wrapping around your neck with precise control.

He squeezed just enough to leave your head spinning, your drooling cunt twitching at the way the pressure made the pleasure more intense—hypnotic, all-consuming.

And the moment you let out those choked, gasping moans, Toji grinned like a cheshire cat.

He knew he had you.

“Ohhh, fuck yeah—there it is, mhm,” Toji murmured smoothly, placing a soft kiss on your jawline—as if he wasn’t currently scrambling your guts.

Your walls clenched around his fat length, so fucking snug, your body basically begging for more.

Mouth falling open letting out whimpers that sprang off of the thin apartment walls, eyes hazy, with furrowed brows having a mind that could hardly function as your head lolled against the wall.

The only thing you could focus on? How impossibly full you felt, every thick inch of him smothering your sweet spots.

“Shit, baby, you really are dumb for my cock, huh?”

Toji’s lips curled devilishly, ego soaring at how easily he reduced you to just this—mindless, whiney, hungry slut for him.

“Aah, y-yes, yes, yes!”

“Good answer, pretty girl.” He spat, chest looming over your smaller figure.

Body grinding up into your sweaty pelvis real slow to catch you off guard a little feeling him nudging on your throbbing clit causing you to squirm.

But that little break didn’t last for long, he was right back to slamming into your sopping hole.

“Ooh, fuck—s-slow down, s’toomuch!” you pleaded, legs trembling as another sharp stroke sent a shockwave of ecstasy straight to your core.

Your stiletto nails dug into his shoulders, scratching deep, drawing thin rivulets of blood—desperate for something, anything to hold onto.

The sting only made Toji groan, a low, thirsty sound rumbling from his chest.

“Too much? Thought you wanted some manhandlin’ sweetheart.” He mocked.

His hand left your throat solely to slap your soft tits triggering a jolt reaction in your body, eyes glued at the way they jiggled every time his cock speared into you hitting so unfathomably it made your stomach bulge.

“Can’t handle me hm?”

“I can it’s just-” You tried to argue, but your voice came out weak, wrecked, breathless—like it had run out of ink from being used too much.

Toji snickered.

“Who you foolin’ doll? Look atcha, fuckin’ destroyed for me.” His voice ridiculed, one arm wrapped under your ass, lifting you effortlessly, stepping closer to the broad black-framed mirror across his room, as he used two fingers to turn your head.

Your reflection looked absolutely torn apart.

Toji’s markings were painted all over your skin, bruises and love bites that made it painfully clear you’d need to stop by a convenience store for some heavy-duty makeup before work tomorrow.

Your pretty pussy splitting open around his thick ten-inch cock, sparkling with slick.

Your mouth fell open in pure shock, infused with just a hint of awe.

Toji smirked slyly. “Didn’t even realize how fuckin’ filthy you looked, huh?” he rasped, licking a slow stripe up the side of your neck, his sharp teeth nipping at your ear—provoking a full-body shudder.

Tiny frame looking so good blended with him, quaking, mewling, accommodating his size. Struggling, you could barely handle him, and yet, he was sure he was a perfect fit for your little cunt.

Your stomach clenched at the sight, your walls grasping around him, signaling you were close again.

Toji growled at the way you crushed him.

“Ohh fuck yeah, Y/n you like watchin’ yourself get ruined?” He cooed, vibrating his voice with lust.

His thrusts got sharper, meaner, as one of your hands slid to your lower stomach, pressing against the bulge of his ten-inches.

Melting at the feeling was honestly an understatement.

“God, you’re so deep,” you hummed, your voice thick and sultry, nearly a duplicate of aged wine.

“Yeah? You feel me right there, huh?” Toji’s almond eyes parachuted down, watching how even his curved shaft outlined inside your belly. “Bet you love bein’ stuffed like a lil’ whore.”

You eagerly nodded, your breath hitching as Toji drove into you, each ruthless snap sending blasted waves through your body.

The way he fucked you—deep, unrelenting, possessive—had your mind hazy, You could already feel it building again, that overwhelming heat coiling tight in your core, ready to burst at any moment.

The instant his thick, mushroom-shaped tip slammed against your A-spot, pleasure unfurled inside you—deep, raw, and all-consuming.

Each precise, relentless thrust sent sharp thrills of euphoria rippling through your body, the pressure working up at an unbearable pace.

Your walls fluttered around his length, as the pleasure crested violently, surging through you in frenzied, pulsing waves that left you breathless.

Your entire body tensed, every muscle seizing at once as a wave of electric desire scampered over you.

Your vision blurred, unable to focus on Toji’s face anymore, the sheer intensity washing over your senses—momentarily drowning you in the mind-numbing pleasure.

A string of blaring curses rushed out of your lips, as the climax punctured through, feeling demolishing. Fingers clenching, toes curling, your body jittering with aftershocks.

The world around you faded, leaving mainly the astounding gratification, the lingering tremors that left you stunned.

“Hahhh, oh fuck—there she goes,” Toji grunted, watching your reflection convulse, loving the way your pussy clenched down on him, gripping him so tight he pulsed inside you.

You sobbed, false lashes coming loose, tears slipping down your scorching-hot cheeks.

He didn’t slow down whatsoever.

If anything, he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own—dragging you along for the ride.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, hypersensitive as he kept pushing deeper, hitting that same devastating spot.

Skin slapping together rained through the entire bedroom, incapable of holding any noise back due to the immense mix of exhilaration this gave you, leaving Toji room to comment on it.

“You’re so loud, princess—y’want the whole damn building to hear us?” he scoffed, not in the mood for noise complaints later.

To solve this issue?

His pink-lips crashed against yours, swallowing your cries. The kiss was messy, drool droplets forming at the side of your mouth, a futile effort to muffle the high-pitched moans spilling into his smooth lips.

He fucked you through the overwhelming overstimulation, each deep thrust making your entire body tremble.

You were already too sensitive from previous rounds, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain, but he didn’t care—if anything, the way your walls kept suffocating him only spurred him on.

His groan was low and rough when you let out a broken, high-pitched sing-song moan, the sound shooting straight to his cock.

And with the way he was still so ridiculously hard, his length bulging against your stomach, pressing against that sensitive spot over and over?

You could barely think. A strangled whine slipped from your lips, your lashes fluttering as your vision blurred, overstimulation pulling you into a hazy, delirious state.

But Toji was right there with you.

His pace turned sloppy, thrusts losing rhythm as his control started to dissolve.

He buried his face against your skin, breath hot and heavy, panting against the shell of your ear. His grip on your waist tightened, fingers pressing into your flesh like he was trying to brand himself into you.

“Shit—gonna fuckin’ fill you up, baby. That okay?” he groaned, voice strained, desperate asking for permission.

All you could do was mumble out a frail “Yes!”

“Gonna make sure you feel me in this tummy for weeks,” he murmured, exaggerating the words, but fuck—at this point, you believed him.

Your eyes rolled back, your body going rigid as another orgasm crashed into you without warning, pleasure slamming through your veins like a lightning strike. Your walls clamped down around him so tight he nearly choked on a groan, his whole body tensing at the feeling.

That was it for him.

His hands locked onto your thighs, grip bruising as he slammed into you one final time.

His teeth sank into your shoulder, muffling his deep, wrecked moan as he came—thick, hot spurts spilling deep inside you, emptying himself like he hadn’t had sex in months.

Another pulse sent another sharp jolt of pleasure through you, making your legs shake as he fucked his release deeper, hips jerking uncontrollably with every last drop.

“Fuuuuck, fuck, fuck, Y/nnnnnnn,” he sighed, voice heavy with exhaustion and bliss.

His head fell back, eyes screwed shut, his cock still twitching inside your spent, quivering walls.

His arms tightened around you, locking you in place against his chest, making sure none of it went to waste—making sure you took all of him. You shuddered in his hold, completely wrecked, all his.

That bastard just smirked, pressing lazy kisses to your cheek.

“If I knew you were fangirling like that,” he muttered, cockiness entwined his tone, “I would’ve given you an autograph sooner, sweet thing.”

➜ ML

➜ I don't usually write rough sėx so, I hope you enjoyed 😋

➜ A rb, like, or comment is highly appreciated!!

Divider creds | enchanthings-a + hyuneskkami.

[phone4pills]

PENCIL SKIRT dad!Matt x nanny!Reader

smut, back shots, standing doggy, mirror sex, degradation, breeding kink

The bathroom mirror reflected each tear on your face, as if to mock you for being so sensitive. Each pull on your hair, each harsh and merciless thrust had your insides twisting and turning. “Mr Sturniolo-” You chocked out his name, your grip hardening around the edge of the bathroom sink, the porcelain ceramic being the only thing keeping you grounded.

Meanwhile, Matthew Sturniolo didn’t hold back. He grunted, grabbing your hip with the hand that wasn’t buried in your hair. Your knees were almost completely useless, and if it weren’t for your position, bent over the sink, you did not think you’d still be standing on your two feet. Your usually neat, black pencil skirt was rolled up to you waist and your panties hung low around your heels.

White pre-cum leaked from Matt’s tip into your warmth, dripping on the floor every split-second he pulled out before burying his length within you again. “So wet f’me, yeah? Not very professional of you, is it?” Your eyelids closed tight, ears catching each groan that rippled from his throat. “Is it, y/n?!” Matthew asked again, more sternly. You shook you head quickly. He picked up his pace, slamming into you harder than ever. “Be a good girl and use those words, hm?”

“No… not p-profes- ahh.” A breathy moan escaped your lips when he bottomed out, bruising your cervix. Each callous noise increased in volume, until Matthew was pulling his hand out of your hair to cover your mouth, slapping your cheek slightly. “Shh, don’t want the girls to hear, do we now?” You shook your head again, mumbling a ‘nuh uh’ before he chuckled. You looked pathetic, your mascara was a black mess under your eyes and your mouth hung slack.

Your clit was rubbing against the cold surface of the counter, giving you more pleasure than you thought you could handle. The tightness in your stomach began to break loose, and Matthew knew because your eyes rolled back into your head. Your back arched into his grip and soon enough, you came undone, turning into a moaning mess. But Matt kept going, chasing his own high.

“M- Matt…” You whispered into his palm. He didn’t like it. His hand landed a slap on your ass. “You know not to call me that. So naughty… you don’t deserve this do ya?”

You found your head shaking again, submitting to his viciously laced words. “Say it, y/n. Look in the mirror and say it.” You struggled to hold eye contact with yourself in the reflective glass framed on the wall in front of you. Nevertheless, you abided. “I d-don’t deserve this!” Your words were slightly muffled but they were enough to have Matthew tipping over the edge. As his cock started to twitch inside of you, he hissed.

“You want me to fill you up with my babies?” Leaning in to speak next to your ear, his voice was sickeningly sweet. You nodded giving him a hoarse ‘yes please’ before his movements came to a halt and Matthew pumped you full of his white fluids.

You straightened down your skirt, taking a deep breath, and laid Matt’s warm towel on the counter, folded neatly. He’d gotten to his shower in the end, letting the hot steam roam the air, fogging up the mirror. “Tell the girls to get dressed. Think m’gonna take them out to get ice cream.” His relaxed voice reverberated off the walls of the space. And with that, you left, shutting the door behind you.

Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack

This is probably my last piece of smut for a while, no nut November is coming up and I gotta lock in with some fluff and angst. Love this AU to death, might write more for it in the future but until then you can see other Matt fics in my MASTERLIST. Thanks for reading!

- ©phone4pills

[wilwheaton]

“I was surprised how many people at the town halls were upset at the Democrats,” Rep. Ro Khanna (D-CA) — who just hosted three town halls in red districts across California — told Raw Story.

'Angry across the board': Inside the civil war raging in the Democratic Party

Any Democrat who is surprised by how angry we are at their feckless cowardice and complete capitulation to Trump needs to be primaried and replaced by a person who isn’t a complete fucking idiot.

Ro Khanna is a Vichy Democrat who has not stood up for his constituents one time since he took office.

He is worse than useless. He is occupying a seat in Congress that should be held by a progressive Democrat who will fight the Oligarchs and the lawlessness of this criminal regime.

Of COURSE he is surprised; he’s the kind of corporate sellout who’s so busy going to fundraisers, he has no fucking idea what’s actually happening in the world.

He has to go. Every Democrat who isn’t out there punching Nazis and fighting back with every single bit of disruption they can muster needs to go.

We are fighting for the very soul of America, and we are losing because people like Ro Khanna refuse to fight.

[msfantasy-anime]

Sorry, I’m … married!

Monkey. D Luffy x Reader

Request: An overly zealous marine by the name of Shimoi Zappa is enraptured by your beauty and just will not take no for an answer. Your final rejection comes in the form of a blow to his face which earns you a bounty and DoA wanted poster.

A/n: not my best, but I’m setting up the story to pushing Y/n into the straw hat crew for future adventures.

Part III

It’s been long since you parted ways with your ‘husband’ and the straw hat pirates on the docks that day.

Despite his incessant pleas, to join the crew. You were adamant on having a your own adventure. You weren’t quite ready to give up your freedom to serve in a wanted pirate crew, the world government chasing you until you are caught.

Piracy was always a dream of Sabo, Luffy and Aces, but yours was just to explore the world.

Despite all your reasonings, the tearful parting left you feeling unsure if you made the right decision. The New World is far more dangerous than the redline ever could be, maybe joining a strong and rambunctious pirate crew would’ve actually led to even greater adventures.

You continued to contemplate, your eyes glazed off into the distance sunset horizons as the merchants ship that granted you passage is offloading supplies onto a marine base island.

The captain of the merchants ship encouraged you to explore the island, but the marines on an isolated training island is begging for trouble. All of the officers are hyped up on self-importance, they’re all itching to prove their self worth by dominate any and all around them regardless if it was warranted enough. You’ve traveled enough to know that there are just as many corrupt marines as there are good marines. But you have truely had your fill for a life time and avoid them where possible.

It’s better to just stay nice and close to the ship and leave as soon as humanly possible.

Unfortunately, your train of thought comes to a crashing holt when you feel the intense sensation of being watched.

Springing from your seat, you turn around quickly, to see the creeping figure of a marine, slinking up behind you.

“Oh dear, oh my, what a sight you are.” The tall creepy marine exclaims, his cheeks blushing. “I knew you’d look pretty considering how gorgeous you look with just your back turned! My name is Shimoi Zappa. May I have your name miss?” The marine swoons. His flirtations make your stomach sink.

“Errrrrrm… it’s Y/n.”

“Y/n?! What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He swoons yet again, making you wildly uncomfortable.

“Gee, thanks.” You dead pan, looking towards the merchants ship, begging silently for help escaping this weird encounter.

“Please Miss, my heart has never yearned for another like it has for you. Please do me the honour of becoming my wife!” With one knee to the ground, he snatches your hand and places a weirdly wet kiss along your knuckles.

“UGH! No, thanks anyway.” You try to add politely on the end, whipping the back of your hand.

Falling completely onto his hands and knees, he begins to sob hysterically into the ground. “No?! Why?!” He sobs once again, grabbing your hips pushing his teary eyes into your abdomen, making your squirm in discomfort.

“Sorry, you see I’m…” Your mind reels in search of the perfect answer that won’t offend the creep whilst also strongly reaffirming your unavailability. “Im married!”

“This cannot be, this can’t be! Where is this husband of yours.” He asks, looking around, as if a man would pop into immediate view. Your jaw clenches in irritation, why couldn’t he just believe your words?

“Well, he’s off exploring the world-“

“Without you?! What kind of husband abandons his wife like this?! He mustn’t be a good husband if he leaves you alone out in this world full of creeps.”

“Right…”

“Please reconsider leaving that useless husband of yours and marry me instead.” He begs once again, grabbing your hand once again and giving it a pleading squeeze.

“Listen buddie, shut up about my husband. He’s a great man. Someone as vile as you will never understand.” Your usual amicable nature goes flying out the window. The overbearing flirting was one thing, but no one will ever disrespect Luffy to your face and live to tell the tale.

All commonsense goes flying out the window as you hand a devastating heavy hit to his face, knocking him out instantly.

“Hey Luffy! Come and look! There’s a new pirate bounty out.” Brook exclaims excitedly.

Luffy launches himself with bountiful energy, keen to see his new bounty. Only to be faced with the non other than your bounty.

Monkey. Y/n 100,000,000 berries. Dead or Alive.

“Hahaha! She said she didn’t want to join because having a bounty would make it hard to travel- but the dumby went and got a bounty anyway! Hahaha!” Luffy cackles. “Huh? Hey, did you guys notice that Y/n has my last name? That’s weird- I wonder why they did that.” Luffy questions scratching his head.

“100,000,000 million berries! What did Y/n do?!” Nami asks Brook in horror.

“The article says that Y/n was visiting the marine training island on a merchants ship when she punched a marine after talking poorly of her husband Monkey. D Luffy.” Luffy’s cackle continues until it comes to an abrupt halt.

“What island was she on again? Let’s go pick her up on the way to Big Moms.” He announce with a wide toothy smile.

“Great, maybe we can also steal some food while we are at it.” Nami agrees, returning back to the helm.

[heliosunny]

pls pls pls yandere!blade?? 👀👀i love the lucky egg one of him 🫣

Yandere!Blade x Reader

The rain hadn’t stopped all evening, and the alleyway smelled of damp earth. You hadn’t planned on stopping, but the faint sound of something rustling near a pile of discarded crates caught your attention.

A cat—if you could even call it that—lay there, drenched and motionless. Its sleek black fur was matted with rain and speckled with blood, its body tense despite the clear exhaustion weighing it down. But what struck you most were its eyes—piercing crimson, burning with unmistakable fury.

When you took a cautious step forward, the cat let out a low, warning growl. Its ears flattened, tail flicking sharply despite its weakened state.

You crouched down slowly, keeping your hands in view. “Easy… I’m not going to hurt you.”

It didn’t believe you. Even now, it refused to appear weak.

A sigh escaped your lips as you reached into your bag, pulling out a piece of cloth. “You’re hurt. If I leave you here, you’ll only get worse.”

The cat didn’t move. Carefully, you extended the cloth toward it.

For a long moment, it simply stared. Then, ever so slightly, the rigid tension in its shoulders eased. It wasn’t trust, not yet. But it was something.

And that was enough for now.

Bringing the cat home had been the easy part. Getting it to actually accept your help? That was another story entirely.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the black-furred creature tried to wriggle out of your grasp. You set it down gently on a pile of fresh towels, but it still glared at you with pure contempt, eyes practically screaming, Don’t touch me.

“You’re really something, huh?” you mused, grabbing the first aid kit. “I’m trying to help, you know.”

The cat didn’t respond, obviously, but the way it flicked its tail and tensed when you got closer made its thoughts clear enough. You started tending to its wounds, expecting it to lash out at any moment. It never did.

But as days passed, something changed. The hostility remained, but it grew quieter. The cat still refused to be held, but it no longer flinched when you reached out. It tolerated you.

And then one night, after a particularly stubborn staring contest, you found deep scratch marks on the wooden floor. Letters, etched with deliberate precision.

B L A D E

You blinked. Then looked at the cat, who sat there with an expression that somehow felt smug.

“You’re smart for a cat” you murmured, watching as it flicked an ear in response.

But instead of calling it Blade, you tilted your head and smirked. “Bladie, huh?”

The cat’s tail flicked, and it shot you the nastiest glare you’d ever seen.

From that moment on, the name stuck.

Even after it healed—after it was strong enough to leave—Bladie never did. You expected it to slip out the door one day, disappearing back into the streets, but it never came. Instead, it lingered. At night, you’d wake up to find it curled up at your feet.

-----

The moment you stepped through the door, you practically beamed with excitement. “Bladie! Guess what? I got myself a boyfriend!”

The black-furred cat sat atop the windowsill, bathed in the dim evening light, tail lazily flicking as it watched you.

You pursed your lips, placing your hands on your hips. “Wow, nothing? No hissing? No dramatic reactions? I thought you’d at least look offended.”

Maybe you were just joking. Or maybe this supposed ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t even worth acknowledging.

But then the next day came.

And you—of all things—brought Blade with you on a date.

You had tucked him into your arms, treating him like some pampered pet, completely unaware of the way his gaze sharpened the moment he saw the man waiting for you at the café.

This man—this supposed ‘boyfriend’—was pathetic.

Everything about him screamed weakness.

Useless.

And yet you sat there, sipping your drink, completely oblivious.

Blade’s tail flicked once. Twice. If this man thought he’d be keeping you, he was sorely mistaken.

“I’ll be right back, Bladie. Be nice, okay?”

You ruffled the fur between his ears before heading off to the bathroom, completely unaware of the tension crackling in the air the moment you left.

The man—your so-called boyfriend—let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. Then, just as quickly, his friendly mask cracked. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

“Well, well… What are the chances?”

“You look miserable like this” the man mused, tapping a finger against the table. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

The man smirked. “What, nothing to say? Oh, that’s right..you can’t.” His voice was full of mockery. “Maybe I should tell them the truth? I bet they’d love to know what kind of monster they’ve been-”

It happened in an instant.

Blade's claws sank deep into the man’s forearm before he could react. The wizard yelped, jerking back, but Blade didn’t let go. His fangs sank into the man's flesh.

"Tch—! Damn beast—!"

Chairs screeched. Silverware clattered. The café burst into chaos as Blade tore into the man, aiming for veins, for weak points. His claws raked across the wizard’s cheek, leaving deep, bleeding gashes.

The wizard barely managed to shove him off, staggering back.

The wizard cursed under his breath, wiping the blood from his face. “You should’ve stayed a stray.”

Blade growled low in his throat. If this man thought he could take you, manipulate you, he was dead wrong.

The café was a disaster.

Tables overturned. Chairs knocked aside. Silverware scattered across the floor. Your so-called boyfriend stood there, pale-faced, clutching his bleeding arm. And in the center of it all sat Blade.

You were speechless.

What the hell had happened while you were gone?

The manager was already shouting, other customers whispering, but you barely heard them as you marched over and scooped Blade into your arms. He didn’t resist—just let himself be carried, still eerily stiff, still glaring daggers at the man.

You didn’t say a word. You just turned and left.

----

That night, the moon was full, bathing your room in silver light.

Blade lay curled at the foot of your bed, unmoving. You sighed, shifting under the blankets.

“What am I gonna do with you…” you mumbled, “I should be mad, you know. That was crazy.”

Then, in the dead of night, something changed.

Where there had been a small, black-furred cat…Now stood a man.

Blade flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of his true form again. His expression remained unreadable as he took a slow step toward your sleeping figure.

Blade knew his time was short.

The moment he had awoken in his human form, he had felt it—the lingering pull of the curse, the weight pressing against his chest, ready to drag him back into that pathetic, weak cat body. He refused to let that happen. Not when he had finally regained himself. Not when the man who did this to him still breathed.

He left silently, slipping through the open window into the night, vanishing beneath the full moon’s gaze.

The wizard wouldn’t have gone far.

The scent of blood led him straight to his target.

The wizard sat in an abandoned house, muttering under his breath, fingers weaving through the air as he tried to reinforce his spells. His wounds from earlier were hastily bandaged, but Blade could see the sluggish way he moved.

The wizard’s head snapped up, “You—!”

The wizard barely managed to conjure a barrier, sparks flying as Blade’s weapon crashed against it. The force sent him stumbling back, and Blade didn’t let up—

The wizard threw a desperate bolt of energy, but Blade twisted mid-step, dodging effortlessly before lunging, grabbing the man by the throat and slamming him against the wall. Blood smeared across the stone.

The wizard gasped, clawing at Blade’s grip.

“You thought you could reduce me to nothing?”

Without hesitation, Blade drove his sword straight through the wizard’s chest. “Fool.”

The wizard let out a strangled gasp before finally going limp.

The curse was broken.

Or at least… it should have been.

But as Blade took a step back, he felt it—that familiar aura.

His body shrank, fur replaced skin, claws replaced fingers. His vision lowered as the world warped around him.

And just like that, he was back in that miserable, feline form.

So killing the wizard wasn’t enough.

Then what the hell was?

----

By the time Blade returned to your side, he was full.

The wizard had been weak, but at least he had been useful in one regard—his body had provided a satisfying meal. It wasn’t the first time Blade had consumed flesh, nor would it be the last, but there was something particularly enjoyable about devouring the man who had cursed him.

And now, with his hunger dealt with, exhaustion settled in.

The entire day passed like that. He barely moved, barely opened his eyes, simply existed in his comfortable, satisfied state.

You, of course, were clueless.

“Oh my god, Bladie, are you sick?”

You had hovered over him in concern when evening came, poking at his fur. He cracked open an eye, unimpressed.

“You never sleep this much. Did you eat something weird?”

At that, his tail twitched. If only you knew.

The curse hadn’t lifted.

Even after killing the wizard, even after ripping him apart with his own fangs, nothing had changed. He was still bound to this ridiculous form.

To break the curse…

He needed a true love’s kiss.

Blade almost vomited at the thought, but what else can he do.

He had spent years rejecting such foolish, sentimental nonsense. Love? Affection? Worthless. He had never needed such things.

And yet, now, it was the only way he could think of.

If this was what it took, then he would endure it.

But there was a problem.

You, in all your obliviousness, had no idea.

So under the limitations of his cat form, Blade began to subtly encourage you.

More physical contact. More attempts to be endearing. More ways to push you into doing what needed to be done.

You, of course, noticed the difference immediately.

“Bladie, what’s gotten into you?” you murmured one night as he climbed onto your chest, pressing his forehead against yours. “You never do this.”

He stared at you, crimson eyes unblinking.

“…Are you trying to tell me something?”

Yes. Obviously. Hurry up.

Instead, you just laughed, scratching under his chin. “You’re acting like you actually like me or something. Did I feed you something weird?”

Blade resisted the urge to dig his claws into your shirt in frustration.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

Blade had never known true suffering until now.

Days passed, and you remained completely, hopelessly clueless. No matter what he did, you simply dismissed it as odd behavior, laughing at his attempts instead of realizing the obvious.

He nuzzled against your cheek? You cooed about how adorable he was.

He pressed his forehead against your lips, waiting? You thought he just wanted attention.

He climbed onto your lap, curling up and flicking his tail in an almost inviting manner? You took a damn picture and posted it online, calling him the “cuddliest little guy.”

Blade wanted to scream.

But he was determined.

So he tried everything.

He’d stretch lazily across your desk while you worked, rolling just enough so you’d notice the perfect placement for a forehead kiss.

He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his face against your lips while you were half-asleep, but instead of kissing him, you just muttered, “Ugh, Bladie, your fur is all over my face…” and rolled away.

He even went as far as faking slight injuries, limping over to you with the most pitiful look he could muster.

You panicked. Rushed to his side. Held him carefully.

“Oh no, you might be sick! I should take you to a vet.”

…Wait.

What?

That was how Blade found himself at an animal clinic, held in your arms as some stranger in a white coat examined him like he was nothing more than a common housecat.

“Nothing’s wrong with him” the vet finally said, shaking their head. “He’s perfectly healthy. Probably just being clingy.”

You sighed in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was worried.”

Blade, meanwhile, wanted to die.

You had just wasted hours of his time—his precious, limited time—only for a vet to confirm what he already knew.

By the time you brought him back home, he was done.

This was pointless. Completely, utterly pointless.

He gave up.

But then, the unthinkable happened.

That evening, you got a message from your friends. Some last-minute invitation to hang out.

And without hesitation, you grabbed your bag, ruffled Blade’s fur, and left.

Just like that.

Blade sat there in stunned silence, staring at the door.

He was alone.

For the first time in weeks, you had left him by himself.

…Oh.

Oh.

If you could leave him once, you could leave him again.

And that… was unacceptable.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Blade wasted no time.

He leapt onto the windowsill, tail flicking with irritation as he tracked your scent. It wasn’t difficult. He had spent his time memorizing everything about you.

Finding you was laughably easy.

Your friends surrounded you, their presence invading what was his.

No.

They had to go.

The first one left quickly.

A minor inconvenience, really. All it took was a perfectly timed ‘accident’—a tipped-over drink spilling onto their lap. They yelped, cursing under their breath, and excused themselves to clean up.

The second was harder.

They were persistent, staying far too close, their gaze lingering on you in a way that made Blade’s claws twitch. So he stepped things up- A sprained ankle.

Another one gone.

One by one, they left.

Some to clean up a mess, some to answer an urgent call, some simply feeling an inexplicable unease clawing at their senses, whispering to them that it was time to leave.

And eventually…

It was just you.

You frowned, looking around in confusion. “Huh? Where did everyone go?”

Finally.

Now, all that was left… was to bring you back.

A familiar tug at your sleeve.

“Bladie?”

Your cat had somehow found you, his small black paws gripping your sleeve, tail flicking in agitation.

“Did you follow me all the way here?” you sighed, bending down to scoop him up. “You really don’t like being left alone, huh?”

But before your hands could reach him—

Before your eyes, the small form of your cat twisted, stretching, warping. Fur faded into skin, limbs lengthened, dark robes manifesting around a lean, powerful frame.

A man.

“…Bladie?”

“Took you long enough.”

The moment your brain finally caught up with what you were seeing, panic hit.

You screamed.

Then, before you could think, before you could rationalize, your body moved on instinct. You didn’t care about the stares of the people nearby. You didn’t care about the fact that you had just left Bladie—or whoever that was—behind. Your legs just moved, carrying you as far away from that impossible, terrifying sight as possible.

That’s not real. That’s not real. That’s not—

A sudden rush of wind behind you.

Something grabbed you. You barely had time to react before a sharp tug yanked you backward, knocking you off balance.

Bladie—no, Blade.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

And before you could say a word, his hand cupped your jaw and he kissed you.

You gasped, hands instinctively pushing at his chest, but it didn’t matter—because the moment his lips touched yours—His body lit with a strange, pulsing energy, golden threads wrapping around his form, weaving light into his skin. But not for long, later, the glow flickered. Then shattered.

Like glass splintering under pressure, the light broke apart—and in its place, you watched in horror as his body shrunk.

He was a cat again.

Just a cat.

“Oh my god, oh my god—Bladie!” you hissed, scooping him up into your arms like he hadn’t just assaulted your lips in public, “What the hell was that?!”

He let out a furious yowl, clawing weakly at your sleeves like he was trying to explain himself but had no words.

“No—don’t you dare yell at me right now, mister! You’re the one who—we need to go!”

You held him close, bolting down the street in a panic, heart still thundering in your chest.

“Please let no one have recorded that—oh my god—”

Blade buried his face into your arm in pure shame.

This was not how that was supposed to go.

Your feet had barely hit the floor of your apartment before you dropped Blade onto the couch, hands on your hips, pacing in a frantic spiral of frustration and disbelief.

“I kissed my cat.” You clutched your head. “In public! In front of people!”

Blade, now a thoroughly pissed-off ball of fur, sat sulking with his ears flat, tail lashing violently across the cushions.

“And you—what even was that?! You’re not just some weird guy with a curse—you kissed me! You turned into a man, kissed me, turned back, and meowed like it was my fault?!”

He meowed again—defensive.

“Don’t ‘meow’ at me!” you snapped, pointing at him like he was on trial. “I’ve let you sleep in my bed, eat my food, ruin my curtains, and now I find out you’re not only human but also a problematic one?! I’ve been out here feeding wet food to some man disguised as a floofy stray!”

Blade flopped over dramatically, tail still twitching. He would’ve flipped you off if he had fingers.

You groaned, flopping down beside him, hand dragging over your face. “This is… this is too much.”

That’s when the window shattered.

You didn’t even have time to scream before the shadows surged in.

Hooded figures in blood-dark robes, sigils glowing faintly on their skin, their voices hissing in a language that made your bones ache. You were shoved to the ground. Another snatched Blade, forcing him into a glowing cage that hissed with energy and burned his fur.

Then everything vanished.

In a breath.

You landed in a dusty, crumbling tower, stone walls etched in cursed runes.

You tried to scream for him, but they yanked you away.

When Blade woke up, his body was human again. His wrists burned where the magical shackles bound him, but his expression was blank—bored, even—as the cultists circled like vultures.

“You killed one of our own” one of them hissed. “The curse you were bound to—it was ours to control.” “You consumed his flesh” another said, voice quivering with disgust and reverence. “That’s an ancient taboo. Even for us.”

Blade shrugged. “Tasted better than he looked.”

They didn’t like that. Several took a step back, one nearly gagged.

“The sentence is death.”

“Great” Blade muttered, rolling his eyes. “Let’s skip the ceremony and get to it.”

“And your owner corrupted with your presence… They will be executed alongside you.”

“What?”

“They took you in. Sheltered you.”

“You’ll burn together”

“You picked the wrong bargaining chip.”

The tower shuddered.

Blade… no longer looked bored.

“I warned him…” he murmured low, as if to himself. “Told him I’d kill everyone.”

The shackles cracked.

A cultist stepped back. “He’s—he’s breaking containment—!”

Snap.

One cuff shattered, then the other. A surge of corrupted energy burst from Blade’s core, black and red streaks tearing through the air like living claws. And Blade rose, his long hair flowing with the sheer force of pressure now rolling off his body.

“You should’ve touched me” he whispered. “But you threatened Y/N.”

The first to die barely saw it coming.

Blade moved and punched through the cultist’s chest—his bare hand ripping out a still-beating heart with such force the ribs cracked outward like shattered wood. He dropped the organ.

The second tried to cast a binding spell, but Blade was on him in a blink, his nails extending into claws. He slashed across the man’s face, slicing the top half clean from the bottom. Skull and jawbone split open like ripe fruit, blood spraying in an arc across the stone walls.

Blade enjoyed this.

A woman tried to flee. Her legs carried her nearly to the stairs before Blade’s shadow stretched unnaturally, and something reached from it— A clawed hand gripped her ankle.

“No—NO—!”

Her screams were cut short when Blade’s boot came down hard on her throat—once. Then again. And again.

Her windpipe crushed. She gurgled as blood spilled from her nose and mouth, eyes wide with horror as her final moments played out beneath the heel of the creature she helped summon.

“You can’t kill us all—!” one screamed.

Blade tilted his head. “Watch me.”

He lifted his hand—energy surging through his arm like fire. A spike of steel tore through the stone floor and impaled one through the gut, lifting him into the air where he writhed like a pinned insect.

The final cultist turned to run—only for Blade to appear behind him.

“I should keep you alive,” he murmured, claw tapping the man’s cheek, “but I’m done being kind.”

Then he tore his throat out with his teeth.

The man gurgled, choking on his own blood, before falling to his knees—eyes still wide in disbelief.

The tower stank of blood and fear.

Corpses were scattered like broken dolls.

“…You better be safe.”

And with that, he turned to find you.

Blade moved through the carnage.

Two more cultists emerged from an upper level, unaware of what lay below. They were mid-conversation, arguing about keeping you under control.

With a blur of motion, Blade appeared before them like a phantom.

Blade’s hand snapped forward and seized the man’s wrist, yanking it forward.

“Wha—?!”

The cultist screamed as his own fingers were twisted into a casting sigil.

“Don’t waste it” Blade growled.

He forced the man’s hand forward like a weapon—aimed it at the other cultist and triggered the spell before the man could resist. A streak of cursed lightning blasted the second cultist straight into the wall, caving in his chest on impact. The body slumped down in a mangled pile of meat and robes.

“P-Please—”

“…You helped them cage Y/N”

“No—I didn’t mean to—!”

Blade ripped the man’s arm from its socket, using his own spell-casting hand to burn his face off.

He tossed the scorched corpse aside and kept walking.

Room after room, hallway after hallway—he tore through the place, destroying anyone who dared to appear in front of him.

From above.

Blade’s head snapped up. He heard a scream.

There was a sharp gust of wind—stone crumbling from the high spire—and when he ran to the window, what he saw made his blood boil.

You—held at the edge of the highest balcony by another cultist. Wind whipping your hair, your arms flailing as you kicked and screamed—

“Let go of me!!”

The robed figure hissed something in an arcane tongue, clearly intending to toss you over as a final punishment—

Blade launched himself out the window. The wind howled in his ears, but his eyes were locked on you. You were falling now, pushed over the edge—screaming, plummeting.

And he caught you mid-air, arms wrapped tight around your waist, bodies spinning violently from the momentum. You crashed down hard on a stone ledge below, but Blade took the brunt—grunting, blood splattering from his mouth as his back slammed against the stone.

But you were alive.

Held tight in his arms.

“…You alright?”

You blinked in shock. Your hands gripped the front of his blood-soaked robes as you stared up at his face.

“…Bladie?”

Blade pulled away from you, his grip lingering for a moment longer before he stood.

“Stay here,” he ordered, “I’ll clear out the rest.”

He vanished into the shadows like a wraith.

And you… sat there, wrapping your arms around yourself, staring at the blood smeared on your hands and clothes.

What were you supposed to feel?

What were you supposed to think?

Just days ago, he was your stray cat—your grumpy, clingy, ridiculous little Bladie. Now…

Now, you had seen him rip people apart like paper.

Your hands clenched.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The sounds of slaughter echoed distantly—cries of agony, bones snapping, wet thuds against stone.

And he finally returned.

Blade stood before you, drenched in the aftermath of his rampage—His eyes still gleamed with the remnants of battle, but they softened—just slightly—when they met yours.

You didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

His lips, tainted with the scent of iron, pressed against yours.

You shoved him back instantly, your pulse spiking.

“What was that for?!” you gasped, wiping your mouth instinctively, the taste of blood lingering.

Blade blinked, entirely unaffected by your reaction. “To see if I changed back.”

You stared at him.

“…And?”

He lifted his hands—still human. Flexed his fingers—still normal. Glanced down at himself—same old, blood-covered menace.

Everything was normal.

His lips twitched upward, just barely. “Guess I’m stuck like this.”

You exhaled sharply, rubbing your temples. “I cannot deal with this right now.”

“Then don’t.” He tilted his head, “Let's go home.”

“…Home?”

He nodded once.

He wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

No matter how much you tried to process everything that happened

No matter how much you questioned reality itself

Blade was going to follow you home.

Just like he always did.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

night sucker, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You and your hot-sexy-maybe-an-idiot-but-definitely-horny-and-always-perfect boyfriend Jeon Jungkook had mutually agreed not to fuck in the middle of the night. And... Well. You're still gonna fuck in the middle of the night. What?! It just happened! He slipped and his dick fell in your mouth! (It's the weekend, it's okay! :D)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; you were asleep (not really) until his dick fell in your mouth (nice!); crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m and f-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, face sitting); squabbling tbh; non-idol!BTS - short black-haired!JK with his two lip rings; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts

crackhead best laid plans / counter point / well dressed / cursed hours couple no need to read the others, but they’re there if you want more

--

You woke up to your boyfriend’s hard dick sliding into your open lips.

Fuck yeah!

(Do we sense a kink developing? Mayhap.)

Most people would be a little surprised, annoyed perhaps, but thankfully you were pretty used to the unhinged horny behavior of Jeon Jungkook (encouraging it, even, oop). You weren’t completely in the dark (well, you were – er, never mind) about it, because you had felt the very suspicious bowing of the bed by your right shoulder, plus you could smell him (mmmm, that vanilla almond body wash still lingered), and you had sucked his cock many, many, many times before. Oh. Right. Should have led with that.

Point was, your mouth was well acquainted with his dick.

(You’d have matching friendship rings but Jungkook would complain too much, keke.)

Delicately, you turned your head a bit and molded your tongue around the shaft, feeling the head twitch in your throat as his hips began to carefully thrust. Jungkook must have known that you were awake and not sleep-sucking his dick, but he wasn’t making any obvious noises.

(The aforementioned kink alive and well, folks!)

You heard him shudder and felt his fingertips skim over your cheek and clavicle. Probably to check the distance. His right leg must have been hovering over your body (you appreciated him not kneeing you in the boob, thank you, very kind), with his left knee by your right shoulder. You started curling your tongue back and forth as he moved, keeping your head still, and Jungkook gasped (a little too loud, pfft), being slightly rougher about it as your throat closed in around his twitching cock. He was mumbling something (useless prayers, your name, fuck me, the usual), and you still hadn’t moved your limbs yet, keeping the illusion alive. All activity in the depths of your mouth, squeezing, swirling your tongue around, letting him pause and edge himself with your lips rubbing the bottom of the swollen head, before shoving himself back in with a whining hiss, surprisingly not too deep, giving a whole new meaning to the term night sucker.

(Insert eyebrow wiggle here.)

His breathing was deepening, taking himself to the edge again, probably enjoying his full control of the pace as he filled your mouth over and over again, slow, deep, almost lazy, reaching his full girth and hardness.

This was when you let him know you were actually awake.

Because you grabbed his ass and jammed his cock all the way to the base, his balls smacking into your chin.

“Gah!”

You heard his palms smack into the headboard (or wall?) and, without giving him a moment to react, you extended the tip of your tongue past your lips to lick his balls, raising the back of your tongue to cup his cock and press It repeatedly against the back of your warm, tight throat.

“Woah, h-hey!”

You tipped your head back and took him deeper. Circled around his balls, leaving them wet, slippery, and tingling. His gruff, half-asleep moan drifted up to the ceiling, mixed with an exasperated whimper.

“I was… I was s-supposed to be catching you off guard… Now you’re just showing off!”

(He’s not wrong.)

You lifted your torso a bit, twisting, and rubbed your breasts against his thigh, sending sparks all throughout your torso. (Mmmm.) He was all tensed up and hard (heh) from maintaining his position above you. You knew he could feel your hard nipples because you heard the snack of his fist against the wall and his defeated groan, his head falling forward.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Jungkook was hot – er, ahem, ran hot. While being trapped between his (very sexy) legs was (very super) arousing, the summertime night heat was being exacerbated by his (very hot) body (you get the point), so you lowered back down to your pillow, kneading his incredible ass (won’t start again but, man, did you love his obsession with working out), nudging him to start moving again.

Thus, you comfortably enjoyed him face-fucking you, providing plenty of tongue action in your own right, his balls smacking against your chin with each thrust, with your spit sticky on your skin.

(Didn’t think that though, huh. Oh well.)

He kept a steady but intense pace. Since he led the movement, you could focus every muscle in your mouth – loose and soft around the length, lips tight, tongue roughly stimulating all his favorite spots, just under the head and along the underside, your saliva providing that frictionless slip, and then you felt his body shift.

His hand was moving.

A startled yelp stifled by his cock vibrated in your throat as his fingers slid down your stomach. His gasps hiked in pitch, and you curved your hips towards his touch, folding one of your legs to raise your lower body, and then his searching fingers grazed over your slick, dripping pussy, bringing the fire.

(And setting the night alight, iykyk.)

The human body could do a lot of creative things in the name of horny. Awkward body positions could be made comfortable by depraved adrenaline, and that was exactly what was happening right now, since there was no way in hell you were going to complain about Jungkook burying two fingers into you and sloppily rubbing your throbbing clit with his thumb. Not that you could say anything at all with him relentlessly thrusting his full-mast dick into your mouth (mhm, you just gushed down there, oh yeah, you felt that), rapidly building up his orgasm, deeply, slowly cutting off your air.

You could hold your breath a little longer.

(You could, in the name of lewd!)

And you were losing yourself in the pleasure, his fingers pumping in and out, fast and powerful, the wet slaps obscene, rocking your hips to his hand, tilting your head back as you sensed his body tensing up, his sounds ceasing into mute ecstasy and then.

“F-Fuck, yeeeeeees!”

He exploded (like… dynamite!), filling the back of your mouth with way too much cum (damn, his internal factories been working overtime), thick and heady and intense. Delicious. He stopped moving, soaking in the bliss, and you didn’t have a moment to swallow because you were too preoccupied hitting your own high, arching your spine, your eyes rolling back, your spasming pussy sucking in his fingers, sweat sticking to the top of your chest.

On instinct, you swallowed.

Too fast. Jungkook whined, pleading and desperate. Evidently, he seemed to figure out that you couldn’t control it since he didn’t react violently, only hitting the wall again (rest in disturbance, neighbors), screaming behind closed lips. You drew back a little, ghosting your tongue over the head, gently, and he moaned, drawn-out and wanton, clutching the headboard like a lifesaver as he was drowning in heavenly euphoria.

Wait.

His fingers were still stuffed into your pussy.

That meant he hit the wall with his forehead.

(Bro, you good?)

You couldn’t ask, but you patted his thigh to get his attention. After a moment of slow thrusting, you felt him try to move away (you sucked a little harder and Jungkook yelped at the oversensitivity,), and so you let go, only to be slapped in the face with his wet, half-hard cock.

“Ow.”

“Serves you right,” Jungkook shot back, sounding utterly drained. He still hadn’t moved his fingers from inside you. “How’d you wake up so fast?”

(‘Cause you’re not subtle, my lovely dummy.) “Mmmm, guess my mouth knows what to do when you put your dick in it.”

“Sus.”

He was stroking your wet pussy.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching your pussy, duh.”

You shifted your eyes and saw the fingers of his free hand wrapping around his hard cock. “Um.”

“What?”

“Nothin’, I was just thinkin’, ya know, I’m not very involved here.”

You were mocking his Busan accent and Jungkook growled, shoving another finger into you to express his irritation (wink wink). You didn’t react much except for grinning and spreading your thighs open more.

“Aren’t you sleepy? I’m thinking about your feelings.”

You were trying not to laugh at his poor attempt to be somewhat deadpan. Pretty difficult considering he was jacking himself off while fingering you. You clenched around his fingers and Jungkook hissed, whispering under his breath, again, and you did it again, fuck, feels so fucking good when you do that, ugh, and the fake spat was forgotten. Your hips rising, your hands fanning over your breasts, toying with your hard nipples, for you to melt and for him to watch, hotter, your chest tightening, biting your lip hard, the sting of pain deliberately delaying your rapidly building orgasm.

“Open your mouth, quick–”

You slid down and he shot thick, warm streams onto your tongue. Gasping and shuddering, those big eyes staring down at the amount (quite a lot, damn, proud of him) and you kept your cum-covered tongue extended, right up until you came onto his three fingers stretching you out, leaning your head back to let his orgasm hit the back of your throat as the first intense waves overcame you, strong flinches resonating up to your chest and head, swallowing and clamping your thighs shut around his muscular forearm.

A suspended, elated moment as you came down, gradually relaxing.

“Hah… fuck… uh…?”

Your tongue lazily snaked out and covered the tip of his softening cock, licking it off.

“Mmmm… ah, yeah…”

“How long you been planning that?” you asked without opening your eyes, squeezing his arm.

“I didn’t plan it.”

You could believe that. Jungkook didn’t plan shit. “Hmmmm…!”

“I swear!” He sounded like he was pouting. “I just happened to wake up really horny.”

This was not news. However, you continued to play dumb. “In the middle of the night?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“HMMMM!”

“What?! You’re naked!”

(Wait a second. Hold your oxen.) Your eyes snapped open. “Where are my panties?”

“Eh, I dunno.”

“Jungkook! You can’t just hide my panties whenever you want!”

(Yes, he can.)

“Uh, yeah, I can…!”

(Sigh.)

Your boyfriend’s teasing voice was sing-song and freaking annoying.

You shot up, and Jungkook was laughing, his short hair stuck up every which way (his bedhead was somethin’ fierce, so cute), backing up, and you saw your underwear on his nightstand, prompting a brief but rather titillating naked wrestling match. You lunged over him and Jungkook grabbed your waist, dragging you back with a prissy nuh uh, and you squirmed and twisted (probably turning him on, yup, you heard him moan a little just now), pawing for your panties. Somehow you hooked a leg over his shoulder, streaking a smear of your still-wet pussy over his built chest, and you attempted to sit on him. Repeatedly. Jungkook wasn’t making it very easy.

“Ow, damn, I worked out my chest today, come on!”

(If you insist.)

You stuck your tongue out to the biggest peepers glaring at you from below.

Then you got a great idea.

Brillant, really.

You sat on Jungkook’s face.

His big eyes shot open even wider and you had a moment of pre-nut clarity, since (um) your legs were a bit askew and you were half-crouching over him like a gremlin (not the hottest look), but in less than a second, Jungkook had his hands on your ass and lifted you up, planting your trembling pussy firmly onto his hungry mouth, shoving his tongue inside you. You gasped, clutching fistfuls of the sheets for some sense of stability. Meanwhile, your man was in a different dimension, groaning loudly under you and making your insides vibrate with his sound, jarring for a moment before you forgot whatever it was that had surprised you, oooh, damn, you couldn’t remember for the life of you what the heck you were worried about, too busy grinding onto his nose like a mate in heat.

(Ah… well, let’s not go there for today. Uh.)

Your panties were within reach, but you didn’t care, throwing your head back and moaning as you felt his tongue glide all over, rubbing against your clit, sucking on it noisily, more for effect than for pleasure, making you laugh, and then you melted into his hands, rocking your hips forward.

The palms of his hands pushed against your abdomen, and you realized his (big) nose was having trouble breathing (serves you right!), but after a moment of resisting on purpose, you leaned back, snickering at the gush of hot air washing over your crotch, his low moan trapped in his chest. He pinned your thighs in place, and you flexed them, feeling the power in his hands, shivering in delight at the sensations of his closed lips and swirling tongue, precise and careful and better than you remembered it. You pressed your hips into his mouth and he got the hint, putting more strength into it, there, ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, clenching your core to hold yourself up.

Hey, you worked out too! (Okay, yes, it’s a stretch but we gotta take the small wins where we can.) Your ass was going to get sweaty at this rate (see!) due to how warm Jungkook was getting (oh…), but you sacrificed for the greater good (cumming on his face), consumed by the harsh rhythm of his tongue, closing your eyes, blanketed in lust-drunk darkness, your muscles tensing, clenching your jaw.

“Mmmm, yes, Jungkook, yes…!”

Strangely you could only now really feel the press of his two lip rings in the dip of your thigh, but perhaps that was because you were forcefully gripping his head and pressing your throbbing pussy into his mouth, moaning, your torso flinching strongly, throwing yourself forward with a gasp, another wave of your orgasm shooting up from between your legs, spreading all over your shaking chest and through your arms. Aaaaaaah. The high wound down, dissipating all over. Your limbs were giving the consistency of fruit jelly.

Delicious.

Actually.

You could use some bingsoo right now, to be honest.

Fuck, it was hot.

You let out an exhilarated exhale, lifting your hips (someone was smacking your thigh, how odd), and Jungkook gulped lungfuls of air, groaning, running his tongue up and down between your legs as you reached over and snatched up your underwear.

Truth was…

You had indeed been jostled awake to Jungkook fumbling around with your panties earlier. Even lifted your hips to help him out. You had known damn well what was coming. Ten minutes of him laying down next to you, his hand over your pussy, calmly caressing the outer lips. Allegedly, he innocently liked to touch your bits because your pussy was pretty. He just wanted to hold it before he went to sleep. Uh huh. Yeah, okay. Even if that was true (it was, how sweet), inevitably, his lizard brain would overcome him (and that it did) and you would soon end up in a compromising position (in this case, his dick in your mouth, mhm, talk about a midsummer night’s dream). If you hadn’t wanted it, you would have stopped him, but (not gonna lie) his dick was a very tasty midnight snack.

It was the weekend, so might as well give into the voices.

(He was probably getting you back for all the times you shook him awake at three in the morning to ride his hard dick, as he should. We’re all unhinged in this house.)

You got off him and Jungkook complained immediately, only to be shut up by you throwing the hand towel on your nightstand at him.

“You’re sweaty!”

“Whose fault is that?!”

“Yours, you horndog!”

“I didn’t tell you to sit on my face!”

“Oh, like your big peepers weren’t BEGGING for it!”

“Well, SOR-REEEE that I think my future wife is hot, what a CRIME!”

He was following (chasing) you to the bathroom. You attempted to close the door in his face and he shoved his naked booty in there with you despite your protests of needing to pee.

“So what! I’m looking!”

“You’re such a creep,” you accused (fondly).

You sat down on the toilet and did your business with Jungkook pointedly staring at you and you pointedly staring back. He was wiping down his shoulders. In the bathroom light, you could see his black hair was slightly damp from sweat. His forehead was glistening, droplets beaded on his skin. His pecs were indeed looking especially delectable today. You stared harder. He twitched and did the same, his big brown eyes making him look extra psycho. He raised the towel just a bit, and you jumped for the toilet paper.

“EY!”

You smacked his tattooed forearm. “Wipe your face!”

“This is the best part!”

“You’re gross,” you snapped, somewhat annoyed but also too used to it (this was the definition of being too comfortable with each other), finishing up neatly and quickly, flushing with a glare before getting up to wash your hands. “What weirdo stands there when a girl is going to the bathroom?”

He looked extremely offended and pouty. “Um, your future husband?”

“My future husband is a creep,” you chirped annoyingly, rinsing off your hands and drying them off.

“As I should be,” Jungkook shot back. “How else will you know I love you?!”

“By being, I dunno, nice and wholesome?”

“I am wholesome! That’s why you put up with me!”

You flapped your hands in mock exasperation.

“What would you do without me?”

Jungkook clasped a hand over his chest, all hilarious dramatics, putting on a solemn expression.

“Be full of cum and empty of heart.”

He placed the back of his hand over his forehead, pretending to sob. You fell into him in roaring laughter, wrapping your arms around him. He immediately showered you with kisses amidst giggles, the towel around his shoulders, flicking his sweat on you (freaking annoying), and you couldn’t ask for a better man. Jungkook could propose to you with a goddamn tempura onion ring and you’d say yes. You were only complaining to complain. It was fun to bicker knowing full well neither of you meant it.

That was how you knew this love was true and perfect.

(See, look at us, a wholesome lovey-dovey couple!)

You both had to spend several minutes standing in the apartment naked, enjoying the air-conditioning, wondering out loud if your neighbors heard anything, asking each other if, hm, maybe a house should be in the works at some point? The living room couldn’t always be Jungkook’s personal gym (yes, it could, he liked to work out while watching television and you weren’t gonna stop him). Anyway, you two might need space, later, just in case.

“You know you’ll have to control yourself if we end up having kids.”

Jungkook made a face of mock disgust. “They’ll have to know how they were made eventually.”

You facepalmed.

(We’ll have to work on it. Future you problem. Future you was a sucker. For Jeon Jungkook. Gross.)

--

masterpost

[simpingforbots]

What if human ended up in Transformers One universe before and as the story unfolds.

PART ONE

Sentinel Prime

When Sentinel Prime first saw you he was disgusted. You were still on surface, running amuck with those dears, trying to survive and hide from Quintessons the best you can. Of course he first though was to just kill you, yet seeing how small, week and fragile you were, decided to use it to his gains. It did not take much of effort to catch you, being huge and you being small, easily catching up to you and wrapping you in his servo, squeezing a bit to hard to intimidate you and to bring you in to submission. Upon his return to Iocon you were presented as a sole survivor of you species when Quintessosn attacked you and "your people" and he, Sentinel Prime, was there just in time to save you from their clutches. Immideatly you were welcomed by every bot with warmth and the productivity increased, so Sentinel kept you for him self as a pet, putting a collar on you, if you tried to run he would punish you - refusing food and squeezing you a bit to hard until he can hear bones crack under the pressure. It did not take to long for you to submit to him, to scared to do anything "stupid". He would totally treat you like a chihuahua - carrying you every where, dressing you up in most expensive attire he can find and would fancy gold on you. Gold jewellery, gold chains and gold collar. and you can not leave his sight at all thanks to the chain and Arachnid. After all, why would you ever want to try to run away from your saviour.

Orion Pax

On one of his runs to the library he would accidently stumble upon you hiding from every one in a vent, something he was using to get in to library, scaring the shit out of you. you almost gave out his location if he didn't grabbed you and shut you up, without hurting of course. he was surprised just how small and week you were, so he had to ask him self just how you managed to survive so long on your own. and he could not just leave you all her by your self. Bringing you back to the mines was simple but taking care of you was a bit harder then he though. humans are completely different to transformers, needing different things to survive, like organic food, shelter and plenty of rest. And it was hard to provide. All the shady places he went to just to get thing the human needed to live comfortably. Of course D-16 was not a big fan of another mouth to feed, especialy with how many shenanigans Orion gets him self with authority, but after some time Orion managed to make D-16 change their mind. So the human has to get used to cuddling and non stop speaches about better future and legends about matrix of leader ship.

D-16

Orion brought the human to their quarters and to be fare that he was not to happy with the idea of taking care of something so week and useless. They could not do any thign to help them, the mines were far to dangerous and they were just to small. Though there were a few perk. Far to soon D-16 found out that being small is useful with getting things from hard to reach places, easily squeeze in and retrieving them, and steal things to. No one watching out for something small to steal a few cubes of energon from elite and bring to him. and something else to. it was good to find another person who would listen to his rant about Megatronus for hours, looking at him with wide eyes of curiosity. So when human started bringing him little Megatronus trinkets he allowed him self to dote on human.

Elita

Lets just say it was not something she expected to happened. She was aiming to be promoted and already had servos full with Orion and D-16 shenanigans, and with Darkwing breathing down her neck - it was clear that taking care of something pathetic as human was out of question. She did ignore you for sometime, trying her best no to squash you as you ran around, hiding in boxes, behind rocks and equipment, avoiding her bosses attention. After some time though she was quite impressed by your survival skills and staying out of way so she decided to try and trap you. Thankfully she had some access to information and manage to improvise. After fighting with shady cellar she managed to obtain something strange that was not made out of metal, just like you, and placed it in a trap she set up. Though you were smart enough to quickly outsmarting Elita's trap and escape with meal, hiding away, which did frustrate Elita quite a lot. She was the best, so how did you managed to outsmart her? She tried again and again, doing her best to hide that it was trap, but nothing work. Until she just gave up and placed another "meal" for you at the entrance of your hidey hole before catching you her self, wrapping her servos around you. Elita was quite shocked to see just how fierce you are, trying to worm and wriggle your way out of her servos, letting out strange noises. and how squishy you are. She took you back to her charging station, a separate room for her due to her rank, how ever small it is, and kept you in a glass box. You had every thing you needed to be in good shape - a ring to run in, place to rest and enough water and meal. Time to time she would swoop you out just to dote on you or spill all the frustration out, telling just how every thing went on her shift, happy to have someone to listen to her. and she found it enjoyable to dress you up, no matter how much you protested, not to fond of bows and cute clothes.

B-127/ Bumblebee

Another cycle of watching trash burn was rudely interrupted with you falling down the chute, screaming and scrambling away, all while B-127 stood there shocked, trying to process what just happened, before scrambling to catch you. There was not much space for you to run, no crack to hide and a big bot trying to catch you - it really did not ended well as you were hurt. Your sides hurt, even if all the trash you fell with managed to slow you down and cushion. As soon as you were in B-127 servos he was on cloud 9 to have someone else for company besides Steve, Ep-508 and A-atron. Not you though. You immideatly got bombarded with his non stop talking, regretting to explore trash chute for something edible with every second, but even you knew if some one was in solitary for so long they would go crazy. So you become his outlet, something to held his crumbling sanity together and so far he kept you safe, helping to salvage something edible to pull though another day and keep him company to insane bot. It did not help that Badasatron also was incredibly touch starved, petting, hugging and snuggling you when ever he could, even in his sleep, so you were basiclay trapped and any attempt to live was met with "puppy" eyes.

[suunani]

always been you ( park jisung )

▍ jisung is ridiculously in love with you, but he’s way too scared of ruining your precious friendship.

content : 1100 words, male reader, fluff fluff fluff, jisung is wearing glasses, bestfriend!jisung, nerdy!jisung.

jisung was used to you being so touchy.

you’d always been like that — casual, confident, and completely at ease with showing affection.

whether it was slinging an arm over his shoulders when you walked together, ruffling his hair, or grabbing his hand to pull him toward whatever adventure you had in mind. touch was just… part of how you were.

and for the longest time, jisung had assumed it was normal. people were affectionate, right? friends acted that way. you were just being you, and that was fine. he didn’t question it.

but that was before he realized he was in love with you.

now, every brush of your hand, every playful shove, every hug that lingered just a second too long, felt like a punch straight to his chest.

the way you reached out to him, the way your fingers brushed against his skin — everything about it made his heart race, his thoughts stumble over themselves, and his body freeze up in ways he couldn’t control.

and you had no idea. of course you didn’t.

how could you? to you, it was all so easy, so natural. but to jisung? it was torture in the best, most confusing way.

and now, here you were again, doing something so normal, yet to him, it felt like everything.

“you’re doing it again,” you said, leaning across the library table, tapping your pencil against his forehead.

jisung blinked, startled. “d-doing what?”

“zoning out,” you replied, grinning as you pulled back. “you’ve been staring at your laptop screen for ten minutes and haven’t typed a single word. what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose and averting your eyes.

you tilted your head, studying him like you always did when you knew he was lying. “really? because you’re fidgeting with your hoodie strings again.”

he immediately dropped the strings and shoved his hands under the table, cursing himself silently.

“i’m just… tired,” he mumbled, knowing how unconvincing he sounded.

“mmh,” you said, not buying it for a second.

instead of pressing him further, though, you leaned across the table again, your chin propped on your hand.

“want me to type for you? you’re obviously useless right now.”

“i’m not useless!” he protested, his voice cracking slightly.

you grinned, your free hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. “relax, i’m kidding. but seriously, what’s up? you’ve been weird all day.”

jisung’s heart skipped a beat at the contact, and he quickly ducked his head, hoping you wouldn’t notice the redness creeping up his neck. “i’m fine. promise.”

you frowned, leaning closer until he could feel the warmth of your presence across the table. “you sure? because you know you can tell me anything, right?”

that was the problem.

you were too kind, too attentive, too you.

you made it impossible for him to hide his feelings, but at the same time, the thought of telling you the truth terrified him. what if it ruined everything? what if you didn’t feel the same way?

he couldn’t lose you.

“i-it’s nothing,” he said weakly, staring at the blank document on his screen.

you didn’t look convinced, but instead of pushing him, you reached out and rested a hand on his arm. your thumb brushed lightly against the fabric of his hoodie, a simple, unconscious gesture, but it was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

“sungie,” you said softly, your voice full of patience and warmth. “you’ve been acting off for weeks. did something happen? did someone say something to you?”

“n-no!” he said quickly, shaking his head.

“then what is it?” you pressed, your eyes searching his face.

jisung felt his chest tighten, the weight of his feelings threatening to crush him.

he couldn’t keep doing this. he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t.

“i…” he hesitated, his fingers clenching into fists under the table. “i need to tell you something.”

you straightened slightly, your expression soft but serious. “okay. i’m listening.”

his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst. he couldn’t look at you — not directly.

instead, he stared at his hands, the words spilling out in a frantic rush.

“i love you.”

he blurted out, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. his voice shook, and his chest felt tight.

“like, really love you. more than a friend. a lot more. and i’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to keep it to myself because i didn’t want to ruin anything, but it’s been eating me up inside. every time you smile at me, or touch me, or just say my name.. god, it drives me completely crazy. and i know you probably don’t feel the same way, and i’m sorry if this makes things weird between us, but i—”

“jisung, wait—”

“no, let me finish!” he interrupted, panic bubbling up as the words rushed out faster than he could think. “you mean everything to me. you’re the best part of my day, every day. and i can’t stop thinking about you, and i know you deserve someone better than me, but i… i can’t help it. i don’t want to lose you, but i—”

“jisung,” you said, your voice steady but gentle.

you reached out and placed your hand over his, your touch grounding him in the moment. it was soft, but firm enough to make his heart skip a beat.

he froze, his breath caught in his chest as he finally looked up at you.

“breathe,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

he let out a shaky exhale, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean to dump all of that on you. i just…”

“stop apologizing,” you said gently, your fingers tightening around his. “you didn’t ruin anything.”

he stared at you, his eyes wide and unsure, searching for any sign that this wasn’t just some dream. “i didn’t?”

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “no, sungie. you didn’t ruin anything. if anything, you just made my day.”

his heart skipped a beat. “w-what?”

“did it seriously never cross your mind that i might feel the same way?” you asked, tilting your head. “because i do. i have for a while actually.”

he blinked, unable to process the words.

“you… you do?”

you grinned, leaning closer until your forehead was nearly touching his. “of course i do, idiot. why do you think i’m always all over you?”

jisung’s face burned, and he let out a shaky laugh, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. “i thought you were just… you know. just being you.”

“i am me,” you said, your grin softening into something more tender. “and you’re you. and that’s exactly why this works.”

he let out another breathless laugh, his heart feeling too full to contain. “i can’t believe this is happening.”

“believe it,” you said, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go — only to immediately ruffle his hair again. “but next time, maybe don’t spiral so much before confessing, okay?”

“no promises,” he said, grinning despite himself.

you rolled your eyes, but the affection in your expression was impossible to miss. “you’re such a dork.”

“but i’m your dork, right?” he said shyly, his voice full of wonder.

“yeah,” you said, your smile widening as you rested your chin back on your hand. “of course you are.”

[keferon]

Have you had any ideas for if the roles were reversed? If Prowl was the mecha pilot?

Prowl being the pilot was actually my initial concept but I reversed it and made Jazz be the pilot instead. I think it makes the whole thing more balanced because it makes both Jazz and Prowl have their..like..stronger points? Over one another? I'm not sure if I phrased it right lol

I mean. Look.

Jazz is the one who is struggling with new environment so his low point is lack of information. But he's a very skilled fighter so his strong point is his physical skills.

Prowl is the opposite, struggling in the battle but being at his highest with the information.

They complement each other>:D

If Prowl would be a pilot it would make him kind of a burden for Jazz, because Jazz would have both strength and knowledge while Prowl would (while not completely useless of course) have nothing.

[livelaughlovesubs]

hello hello!!! as for the event can i ask lyney (if you write for him, ofc!!) with "making them perfom tricks" plus "begging"? i thought about him right when i read the first prompt. 😭

hope you have a nice day!!! :D

Thank you :] I was a little lost on what to do as ‘tricks’ but @illustrious-ia helped me brainstorm

Dom!reader x sub!lyney - reader is GN

Warning: strip tease, anal play, dildo & bullet vibrator, teasing, voyeur (?)

Anniversary event

The click of the door, loud footsteps as he walks up the stairs, a heavy sigh before he enters your room, all blushy already when you two locked eyes. “How did your performance go?” You stared up from the bed, sitting up, smiling softly. “Everything went well, you’d expect nothing less from the greatest magician.” Lyney said, ruffling one hand through his dirty-blond hair. “A shame you weren’t there to watch me.”

Slowly, he got closer to you, kneeling down at the bed post, looking at you with such adoration. “You are right, so, won’t you give me a private performance?” His eyes lit up at that, and he smirked mischievously, “my pleasure.” Afterward, he stood up again, undressing himself with a teasingly slow pace, feeling your gaze on his body. “Please watch me carefully.” The boy mumbled, untying every single ribbon on his body. This was a game he enjoyed to play, to test your patience and to egg you on.

“You shouldn’t let your audience wait so long, they might get bored and leave you know?” You said, hinting at something, though you knew he wouldn’t fall for that. “I have no need for an audience who can’t appreciate the art of waiting.” Lyney answered you confidently, now taking off his gloves and peeling off his leg wear. The way he did it was provoking, wriggling his hips around, doing his best to show you his chocolate side. Seeing how much effort he was putting in, you decided to give up, “mhm, is that so? Fine, I’ll wait.”

Once he was entirely stripped of his clothes, he did a little twirl as if to showcase a pretty dress, though he wasn’t wearing one. He let you take a good look at his body, not an ounce of shame present in his actions. You clapped sarcastically, saying, “oh lyney, our greatest magician, please show us a worthwhile trick~” he bowed at your two faced compliment, replying with, “why of course, I’m sure the next act will be splendid!”

Then, to your surprise, he grabbed a nearby chair and put it in front of you, so that you’d have a good view of the object. After that, he grabbed his black hat and continued his little show. “Next, my lovely audience, I’ll pull an item out of my hat~” he kept going with this persona of his, acting as if he was searching for something with an arm completely buried in that hat of his. “Ahh, my apologies, it seems it’s quite cramped in here.” You waited with bated breath, staring at him intensely as he pulled out… some cards, some tape, a plushy, a rose bouquet that he drew at you, some vibrators and a suction dildo.

“Haha, sorry for the long wait, there it is, what I was looking for.” Now he was grinning all excited, pressing the toy against the chair, strapping the vibrators to his chest and already fully erect member. Once he was done, he hovered above the silicon toy, using the tip to poke at his entrance, before slowly taking the gland in. He didn’t use lube nor did he prepare himself, and with one swift motion he sat down completely. “Nghh~ w-what do you think, y/n? Pretty impressive, huh?” Finally he broke his facade, one hand clenching the edge of the chair, the other one holding a book.

You caught the bouquet with a confused look, wondering if it was a part of the show. It must be, considering he doesn’t do useless things. When you looked closely at the bouquet, you found remotes in it, which were probably for the vibrators on his nipples. With a big grin, you turned it on, listening to the low vibration sound and his lustful gasps. He was withering, an aroused look across his features as his insides tightened around the toy. You stared at the way his small body eagerly swallowed the huge toy, clenching around it with such fever. “Yes, I am enjoying myself. Go on, mr. Magician.”

He took a while until he could maintain eye contact with you, then declared with a shaky voice, “n-now, I’ll read you a s-story, hnnGggh.. while riding this, ah, toy.” So, basically he was saying, ‘watch me while I become a needy bitch for you’. You wanted to comment on it, to maybe stand up and ‘help him’ as an assistant, but he continued his speech with, “p-please stay seated until the end. When I’m done, we can gladly do some fan meetings ♥︎”