#he couldn’t handle buck
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lamiue · 2 months ago
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I was looking for Josh's monologue from the last episode so I could write a scene. In order to find the scene, I had to search on YouTube. Since it was kinda Temu related scene, I logged out of my account so I wouldn't get buckxtemu videos recommended. And I think that sums me up as a person🙏🏻
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muzansfangs · 5 months ago
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You tell them you got a brazilian wax by a guy.
Starring: Choso Kamo x f!reader; Kento Nanami x f!reader; Higuruma Hiromi x f!reader;
Format: short-imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, dirty innuendos, fluff, jealousy, established relationships, nipple play, spanking, playfully biting the partner arses, oral sex (reader!receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, creampie, face sitting, unprotected sex;
Plot: A trend on Tik Tok made you plot a devious plan to make your beloved boyfriend going mad. He knew you had an appointment for a brazilian wax. He obviously assumed you were going to be assisted by a woman. How will he react, when you tell him it was a man? Will his jealousy go too far? Will your prank get you in a bad situation?
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Choso Kamo.
Choso’s lips glided down your neck, nipping, sucking onto the flesh with the same care a potter would handle his fragile new creation. This man was genuinely head over heels for you. Ever since his little brother had introduced you two, Choso had found a new reason to live and, supposedly, be a better person. He had learned so much about human interactions, about feelings and even about intimacy. While he was not properly addicted to sex, this man loved being inside of you more than anything. He needed to touch your soft skin, he needed your warmth around him. That evening was not that different from an ordinary one.
His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling them, thumb and index rolling your handened nipples to elicit from your throat the soft moans he loved to hear from you so much. You did not fail his expectations. You cried out, head lolling back against his shoulder in ecstasy.
“Sing for me, babe” Choso mumbled, your insides clenching around his shaft deliciously as he slowly bucked his hips up to stimulate you.
The squelching sounds filling the room were making your head spin, eyes fluttering to enjoy the sensations to its fullest. You hated pissing him off, you really did, but above anything else you loathed causing his heart to ache. Still, that trend was too tempting not to try it on your sweet boyfriend.
You hummed, sinking down further onto his cock to meet his lazy thrusts “Louder? I don’t want the neighbours to complain again, Choso” you replied breathless, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek. Your hand reached towards his left hand, giving it a squeeze, before guiding it down towards your pubes.
Choso groaned, fingers grazing the smooth skin in delight, while he reached down to flick your throbbing clitoris dilegently “They can burn in Hell, baby. — he promptly said, smiling against your neck — All I care about it you and this sweet pussy of yours. Gosh, I can’t wait to taste your orgasm later” he praised you, causing you to shriek for a deeper thrust of his hips.
“Yeah? Is it that sweet, babe? I got to tell Akio then. I couldn’t describe its flavour to him today” you blurted out, only for Choso’s smile to disappear.
Choso.exe stopped working.
His movements halted, his eyes darkening as he grasped your chin to turn your head in his direction. Lying to his face was going to be hard, especially since he had put up such a puppy face that your heart ached in your chest.
“Akio? Who’s Akio?” Choso asked you, his voice low and a tad serious.
“The guy who waxed me today. Did I forget to mention him to you?”.
“Akio is a guy, isn’t he?”.
You giggled, booping his nose affectionately “Sure he is, silly. What’s with that?”.
Choso huffed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he embraced your tighter “A guy… Did you let another boy look at your pussy? Babe, why? Tell me that’s not true! You would never let anyone touch your—” he wept and you could swear tears brimmed in his eyes. Oh no, that was enough. You could not keep it up anymore.
You sighed, shaking your head vigorously “No! It’s a joke, Choso, please! I’ve been an idiot! Forgive me, baby! Look at me” you interrupted him, pressing your forehead against his one.
Choso relaxed, his breath still kind of irregular as he palmed his forehead in distress. You had really scared him. He could not still bear with jealousy. Apparently, he was not the type to go mad. Choso was too kind-hearted for that. Dealing with feelings was still hard for him. His lips captured yours, gently, holding you close as he relished the feeling of being in your arms.
“Don’t do it again” he whispered and you nodded your head in agreement. Poor Choso, struggling with jealousy.
Higuruma Hiromi.
This man was born to give you oral. Underneath you, head squeezed by the fat of your thighs, your dripping core bare for him to lavish with his tongue and your clitoris for his nose to stroke, Hiromi could happily die. The sweet sounds you made, the way you rolled your hips for facilitate the way he lapped at your folds with flat of his tongue were such a delicacy. If he was asked about a good way to die, the stressed out lawyer would have decidedly declared you his designated executioner and welcomed your pussy as his deathbed.
Now, sitting on his face, hands scrambling up to hold onto the metal bars of the bedhead, you whimpered out his name in bliss. The pleasure was so intense your obnubilated mind was neglecting the plan, your thirst for him not quenching in the slightest when you felt the tip of his tongue slip in between your smooth, slippery folds.
“H-Hiromi! Gosh, don’t stop” you drawled out, back arching as his hands, sprawled over your arses, squeezed onto the rounded globes in unbridled possessiviness.
He had no intention to stop, not even as his chin and nose were coated onto a glistening mixture of your juices and his own saliva. This was not a simple way to cherish your moments with him, this was downright his favorite addiction. Hiromi did not really care if you skipped your appointment with the beautician. He frankly appreciated how much care of your body you had, but he had never asked you to get a wax. Never. Still, when you did, he could not deny how much he loved the way his tongue smoothly skimmen over your silky folds.
“Ride my nose harder, baby” he rasped, his cock twitching in his pants as you shifted upwards, following his command eagerly.
You inhaled sharply, eyes downcast to peer down at your husband’s face barely visible from underneath your thighs. The timing was perfect. Eyes screwed shut, Hiromi was gradually guiding your hips back and forth to help you rub your swollen clitoris over his prominent nose. Waves of electricity ran through your veins, as you let out a pathetic whine. Now, or never, you had to drop the bomb before it was too late.
“I don’t think there’s a single hair left, right?” you breathed out, Hirmoni’s teeth nipping gently at your labia with a huff.
“Not even a single one… — your husband rumbled out — Not that I’d mind anyway” he whispered, mouth opening to leave wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. You two were making a mess.
You shivered, biting down onto your lower lip to concentrate better before shattering that poor man’s world with a single sentence “Yeah, I know, Hiroshi did such an amazing job”.
Hiromi’s assualt on your heat ended instantly. Hooded eyes opening, a knot creasing his forehead, he glanced up at you inquisitively “You meant Hiroko, not Hiroshi. I sincerely hope so”.
“No, I meant Hiroshi. — you countered back, breath still uneven as you wiped away the sweat beading your forehead with the back of your hand — Hiroko got down with a cold, he’s in charge of the beauty center now. I probably forgot to fill you up with the news” you replied, trying to sound convincing as Hiromi just stared blankly up at you.
Maybe it was just your impression, but the atmosphere around you, once charged with sexual tension, grew gloomy, almost chilling. His finger slipping into your core all of sudden made you choke out a screech of surprise, pleasure and discomfort engulfing your lower abdomen as you gawked down at him.
“Don’t talk. Not a single word unless I demand you to speak” Hiromi flatly said, curling his finger into you unforgivingly slowly.
You gaped in shock, legs almost giving up as he shoved another finger into your sappy hole, his eyes darkening as he assessed your reaction. He could not believe you had waited up until that very moment to tell him such a thing! You, his muse, his reason to wake up in the morning, you had let another man touch his nest.
“Did this man touch my home? Did you let him graze his fingers over your pubes, down to your labia, spreading them for him to enjoy the view?” he interrogated you, his tone sharp and cold, taking the same edge it did when he was in a courtroom. This was a problem. You knew you had to stop that circus.
You cried out, lips parted, as you shook your head “H-Hiro! It was a joke! It was a joke, I swear!” you fretted, watching with glee as his expression relaxed and he slided his fingers out of you.
You did not register how he slipped out from between your thighs, pushing your face down onto the pillow as he bit down onto your arse. All you knew was that, when he finally was deep inside of you, his mouth neared your ear and he got back at you from your silly staunt “Let me fill you up with something better than a fib, hm?”.
Nanami Kento.
Large and calloused hands gripping your hipbones, cock stretching you out deliciously, you did your best not to reach your climax right away. Kento Nanami, the best partner you could have ever asked for, was taking his sweet time with you. His hips smacked against yours in a firm, steady pace, as you almost drooled over the polished wooden surface of the desk.
Sex after he came back from his small work trips was the best. Passionate, intense, the lust blinding you two all of a sudden. This time, it had washed over you, when he had seen you saunter towards him all dolled up for a dinner out. A dinner he had promised you before leaving and a dinner you were probably going to be late for.
“I missed you. Wholeheartedly. Waking up alone sucks” Kento stated, burying himself into you to the hilt.
You moaned out, nails scraping the wood as you pushed back against him, squeezing him up perfectly to enjoy the way his girth made itself space within your walls. You were absolutely in a frenzy, your make-up ruined, as you rested your cheek against the desk.
“I missed you too, oh so much” you replied, breath uneven as he leaned down to plant a kiss onto your nape, thrusting slowly into you, making love instead of fucking. This felt just perfect, so perfect that, if it was not for him speaking up, you would have forgotten completely about the devious plan you had in mind.
“You even waxed for me, huh?” he whispered, causing you to tighten up around him again and for your husband to grunt in pleasure.
“You shall t-thank Noboru for the last minute appointment he agreed on” you blurted out, Kento’s eyes widening at your words. A shot through the heart would have felt less painful.
A man had seen his wife’s pussy? Oh, that was impossible. He was probably too tired and had misheard your words. The Hell with that, he was never tired when he was with you. Kento Nanami had heard you correctly. He cleared his throat, hips still, whilst he gazed down at you.
“Noboru?”.
You swallowed forcefully, glancing at him from above your shoulder “Yeah?”.
“Are you perhaps implying you lied down on a couch, legs wide open, to let Noboru touch your pussy?” he inquired, voice calm and collected, even if his grip on your hips was getting bruising.
You nodded your head “And what if I did?”.
“Then I will accompany you the next time you want to get waxed. — Kento replied, giving you a warning thrust that made your breath hitch in your thraot — You know, I would not want our dear Noboru to just imagine the filthy sounds your pussy makes, when I fuck it. Let’s give him a show, darling. What do you say? Would he like to watch me fuck you?” he asked you, resuming his relentless pace.
His hand landing harshly onto your rear caused you to whimper out, sweat beading your forehead, as you regretted your choice to tease your beloved husband. His silent, latent jealousy was turning out to he too hot to handle. He caught a glimpse of you trying to open up your mouth to admit it was all a lie, but he shushed you with another spank.
“Hush, sweetheart. — he cooed, your whines a melody he would have never get tired of — I know you were joking. But we both were serious about trying to have a kid, right? Let’s start tonight. Fuck the dinner, I’ll cook for you later” he rasped out, increasing the pace of his thrusts.
Oh, dear, your wobbly legs and the hot seed dribbling down the inside of your thighs were the signs the only two men allowed to see you naked were your husband and your gynecologist.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! I always feel so giddy when I write for JJK. Hopefully, you’re going to enjoy this piece. I don’t think you guys will get a part two soon, but I do not close the door to that possibility.
Anyway, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
until next,
X O X O
TAGS: @axesfordays @areyouflying
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rafeysbafey · 1 year ago
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reader trying to crawl away from jjs cock when he’s fucking her in doggy, he pulls her back and says “where you going baby? am i too big you can take it”
slight daddy kink MDNI
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jj plowed into you from behind at a brutal pace, hips bucking to meet your ass as he held onto your hips like his life depended on it.
you were on round three with this boy, tears streaming down your reddened face as your body shook with each thrust.
your back was arched as you laid there on all fours, hands gripping the sheets and mouth agap at feeling him reach deep inside you.
the feeling became overwhelming, feeling him destroy your insides at such a brutal pace had your brain all fuzzy.
you tried scooting away, trying to retract yourself from his cock but failed as he slapped your ass, causing a yelp to fall from your lips.
“can’t handle this dick?” he mocked above you, fastening his thrusts as you cried in both pain and pleasure—you couldn’t make out which.
“daddy giving you too much? my cock too big for you to handle?”
“y-yes,” you cried out, agreeing with anything he was saying in hopes he would let up.
but he didn’t.
“too bad, you’re going to take what I give you like the good little slut you are.”
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m4rv3l-girl · 2 months ago
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Happens to the best of us
Bucky x Y/N
Bucky wants babies.
Requests Open!
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Warnings: implied smut
Bucky couldn’t help but stare.
He leaned against the kitchen counter of the compound, arms crossed, sipping at a beer that had long since gone warm. The raucous sounds of the Avengers’ party filled the air—laughter, music, the occasional clang of plates or bottles—but all of it was background noise to him. His gaze was locked on you, on Y/N, across the room, sitting on the floor in the living room.
Morgan Stark was giggling loudly, hands waving excitedly as Y/N built an elaborate tower of colorful blocks, her soft voice guiding the girl through every step of the process. “And look! If we put this one right here—” Y/N placed the final block delicately at the top, balancing it with a careful touch. “—we’ve got ourselves a masterpiece.”
Morgan gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so tall! It’s the biggest tower ever!”
Y/N beamed at the little girl, the expression so full of warmth and love that Bucky felt his chest tighten. Morgan clambered into her lap, curling into her with a sense of trust and affection that made something primal stir deep within him.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it looked—how easy, how right. You and a little one.
The thought had been poking at the edges of his mind all evening, ever since you’d arrived at the party.
You’d barely left Morgan’s side, whether it was helping her sneak extra desserts from the snack table (something that got you both a stern but fond look from Pepper) or carrying her around on your shoulders as she pretended to fly like Iron Man. And the whole time, Bucky watched. Watched the way you moved, the way you interacted, how effortlessly you handled every tantrum, every sugar-fueled burst of energy.
It made his heart ache—in the best possible way.
“Buck, you good?”
Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. Bucky blinked, realizing his friend was standing beside him now, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the counter.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the beer in his hand.
Sam chuckled. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for the past hour, man. You sure you’re fine?”
Bucky rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He tried to play it off, taking another sip of the lukewarm beer. “Just…admiring the view, I guess.”
“Uh-huh,” Sam smirked. “Sure. You’ve got that look, man.”
“What look?”
“That look. The ‘I’m head-over-heels, wrapped-around-her-finger, ready-to-settle-down’ look.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s, chuckling when the ex-assassin groaned in response. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”
Bucky shot him a glare, but the playful tone in Sam’s voice made it hard to be annoyed. Instead, he just grunted and turned his attention back to you, heart clenching as Morgan cuddled closer into your arms.
“I’m serious, man,” Sam continued, softer now. “You look like you’re thinking about something pretty heavy over there.”
Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Sam wasn’t wrong.
The night went on, and Bucky stayed mostly quiet, content to let the party swirl around him. Occasionally, you’d glance his way, sending him a bright smile before returning to your playful antics with Morgan. Each time, his heart skipped a beat.
By the time the party began winding down, the kids—especially Morgan—were wiped out, and the Avengers slowly started to trickle out of the compound. You helped Pepper and Tony gather Morgan’s things, giving the little girl a tight hug before bidding the Starks goodnight.
When you finally returned to Bucky’s side, you looked a little tired but completely content. “Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand instinctively found the small of your back.
“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you replied with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch. “It was fun, though. Morgan’s a little firecracker.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky chuckled, but his mind was still swirling with thoughts, images of you and Morgan together playing over and over in his head. “You were great with her.”
You shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but Bucky could see the faint blush coloring your cheeks. “She’s a sweetheart. Honestly, I love kids. They’re fun.”
Love kids. The words echoed in his mind, sending a jolt of warmth through him that he tried to ignore for the moment.
The car ride home was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the radio in the background. You rested your head against the window, eyes half-closed, while Bucky kept one hand on the wheel and the other loosely intertwined with yours on the center console. It felt…peaceful. Comfortable. Yet, underneath it all, there was this tension building inside him, an unspoken desire simmering just below the surface.
He didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to start that conversation. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t something he could just push aside. Not anymore.
When you got home, you kicked off your shoes and wandered into the living room, stretching your arms above your head with a satisfied groan. “That was a good night,” you said, smiling over your shoulder at him as you began to pull off your jacket.
Bucky followed behind you, his gaze trailing the curve of your spine as you moved. He felt the heat in his chest grow stronger, something heavier, more intense than he’d expected. His mind kept drifting back to the party, to you and Morgan, to the idea that had been slowly taking root in his brain all night.
It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift in his mood. You turned to face him, frowning slightly as you tossed your jacket onto the back of the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Bucky hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to find the right words. But he couldn’t. So instead, he took a deep breath and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Just thinking, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s all.”
“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the party. Tell me what’s going on.”
Bucky sighed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no escaping this now. He might as well just say it. “It’s just…watching you with Morgan tonight,” he began, his voice soft, almost unsure. “You were amazing with her. It made me think about…about us. About our future.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then realization dawned on you, your eyes widening slightly. “Our future?” you echoed, your voice just above a whisper. “You mean…?”
“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, his hands tightening on your waist. “I mean…a family. Kids. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’ve got baby fever?”
He groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment as he buried it in the crook of your neck. “Don’t make fun of me, kitten,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck. “I’m not making fun of you. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”
Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression serious now. “I’m not saying we have to do anything about it too soon if you don’t want to. But…I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Seeing you with Morgan tonight…it made me realize how much I want that. With you.”
Your heart swelled at his words, your smile softening as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, tender, full of love and unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want that too, Bucky.”
The way he looked at you then—like you were his whole world, his future, his everything—it sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mommy, doll. I could see it tonight.”
You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart racing as his words stirred something deep inside you. “And you’d be an amazing daddy,” you replied, your voice laced with mischief. “I know it.”
His grip on your waist tightened, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed along your jawline, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You think so?”
“Yup, the best,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body closer to yours, the heat between you building with each passing.
“Doll?” He mumbled into your neck. The warmth of his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.
“Hm?”
“Can I put a baby in you?”
You brain stopped function for a fraction of a second and the air midway up your throat disappeared. “I…Right now?” You asked with a hint of disbelieving laughter.
“Yeah. Right now.” With a firm nod, his metal hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass, which happened to be one of his favorite things to play with.
“Can’t wait until you’re bigger, just swollen with my kids…” The words alone made him shiver. The thought of you sitting there, belly round and full of the babies he put in there, breasts growing and tender, filled with milk for his children. That was hot. It was making a familiar tingle slither across his chest and downwards.
“So? Can I?” He inquired, rather impatiently.
“Uh, yeah-..I…okay.” You nod. Still in shock that this was even happening.
“Don’t sound very sure.” Tightening his grip, he pushes you closer to him and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core, the small ball of tension forming right under his crotch.
“Yes. Yes, put a baby in me, now.”
“Say please, Doll.”
…………………………………………………………………………………..…………...………..
Part 2…? 🤨
Part 2 is now out!
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tonycries · 10 months ago
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Lemme Ride, Baby!
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Synopsis. Riding your cocky boyfriend to insanity is not a want, but a need. Especially when he sits there so deliciously arrogant - you just have to break him.
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cowgirl, slight switch! boys, established relationship, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k 
A/N. Had this in my drafts for so long.
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He sits across from you on the bed. Long legs spread, eyes half-lidded, and kiss-bitten lips turned into an aggravating smirk that makes your dripping cunt clench. 
“Good luck lasting more than five seconds, pretty girl.” he drawled lazily, oozing pure cockiness.
So that’s how he’s gonna play, huh?
“Let’s see if you can live up to your own hype, darling.”
“Mhm, I won’t be the one begging for mercy.”
Ah, for the life of him he should’ve known. Should’ve gotten an inkling at the way you sauntered over to him in nothing but a predatory grin. Should’ve begged for mercy at that carnal gleam in your eyes that made blood rush straight to his traitorously hard cock. You wanted to eat him alive. 
And he was going to eat his words.
At first, your cocky boyfriend pretended to be unfazed, laying back leisurely on his forearms. But you saw the way his eyes flickered with nervousness when you grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and slammed him onto the mattress. You felt the way his already-throbbing erection twitched so animalistically as you urgently swung a leg over his hips. You knew you had him wrapped around your little finger. 
“Let’s hope you can last as long as you talk.”
Bullying his achingly hard cock into your snug cunt, sinking down agonizingly slowly. Relishing the way his eyes roll back in sheer ecstasy as your plushy walls suck him up so desperately. “Fuck, yes. You feel s’amazing wrapped around me. Sure you can handle it all?” 
You waste no time. 
Abruptly slamming down on his leaking cock. “Ah- Hah-” Your boyfriend’s surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth at a punishing pace. 
Pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole. Slick dripping on his length, slamming down down down - his glistening veins massaging that one spot just right. Over and over. Harder. Faster. 
The sinful squelches of your cunt filling the heady air of your bedroom. Driving him to insanity.
“Oh, god yes- jus’ like that ah fuck fuck fuck…” his low groans come in ragged bursts, cock twitching wildly. A large hand shoots up to clutch your bouncing breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples, the other having a white-knuckled grip on the sheets.
“Give up ye- ah! Hngh, you little fucker-” a moan escapes your lips as he bucks his hips defiantly, chasing his high. Thick tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
Your hungry eyes bore into his blown-out ones, a defiant glint in them as he still tries to maintain his cool façade. Biting his bottom lip, brows furrowed in heavy concentration as he fights to hold back cumming. 
Stubborn bastard.
Several things happen at once.
Your hand shoots out to grip his exposed neck, nails digging into his skin, hard. Almost as hard as you ram down on his cock, sheathing him till his twitching balls smack your ass. Wasting no time once he’s bottomed out. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 
His pretty lips fall into soft oh. Fucked out, gurgled moans leaving his lips around the hand at his throat. “Oh! Ah! Shit, tha’s right. Take every inch.” And if he thought he was going to pass out before then- 
He couldn’t even finish the thought, brain stuck on the way you clamp down so obscenely around him, milking him greedily. Biceps curling, a hand reaches above him to hold onto the headboard - and maybe his sanity.
“Give up yet?” You grind down mercilessly, walls hugging his throbbing erection impossibly tight. Clit rubbing against his toned pelvis. Back and forth and back and forth and- Sloppy, it was so sloppy.
Slick gushing out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “God, fuck- hah. That all you got, pretty girl?.” 
Thighs burning, you alternate between torturously slow strokes and frantic bouncing that left you both restless. Hypnotizing rhythm him slowly towards the edge, only to reel him back again. 
He will eat his words. 
You lose track of time. Maybe it’s been hours - maybe even just a few minutes. 
Pulling and pushing. Over and over. 
“Ah- Hngh-.” Eyes barely keeping open, torn between the fucking obscene view of your dripping pussy swallowing his cock so greedily and the lustful, power-drunk expression on your face. “Wanna- wanna cum, pretty girl.”
“Then beg for it.”
“No.”
Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead. You watch, cunt fluttering at the fucked-out little smile curling his lips, and the carnal way his neck was leaning into the tight grasp you had around it. 
You lean forward, a cruel smile playing on your lips, “Beg for it.” you repeat, voice sultry and dangerous.
He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out from where his eyes were scrunched closed. “No.” he whispers, jaw clenched tight.
You press impossibly closer, breasts hot against his sculpted chest, sticky with sweat. Not stopping your maddening rhythm, your breath is hot against his ear, “Beg for it, and I’ll let you cum harder than you ever have before.”
He throws his head back, toes curling into the mattress, and thighs quivering at the way you were using him like nothing more than a toy.
“Please.” he finally breathes, words barely audible over the sloppy slapping of skin on skin.
“Louder.” 
“Please, let me cum, pretty girl.” he groans, leaning into the mockingly innocent peck you leave on the tip of his nose.
You reward him, slamming down on his throbbing cock with renewed vigor. Finally giving into the way you were drunk off his cock just as much as he was off your pussy. A hand reaching behind you to massage his balls, feeling the weight on your palm. Tugging on them in a way that has his breath hitching and dick twitching so desperately inside you. Aching for release.
“God, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He lets out a guttural moan, thrusting up into you in short, frantic jabs to match your unforgiving cadence. His leaking tip hitting that perfect angle to send sparks flying behind your eyelids. 
And you let him, chasing your high as much as his, eyes locked on his greedy gaze.
How long has it even been? All he knows is that fuck if heaven was real then he was there right now, looking at a goddess herself. Ah, close. So close. His thrusts grow jerkier, cock pulsing inside you. 
“Cum for me, darling. Fill me up till you’re leaking out of me.”
A sharp whimper of your name and he’s spilling into you. His body bows into yours, thick, hot ropes of his cum that fill your snug cunt. Painting your walls white to match the pleasure that runs down his spine - all the way to his leaking cock. It gushes inside of you, trailing down his sensitive cock to form a creamy ring at his base. 
Stars behind his eyes, teeth gritted. He’s heard of orgasms so powerful they take control of one’s body, and right now fuck if this isn’t that then he didn’t know what was. 
Nails digging into your hips - keeping you still as he pounds into you, fucking his seed deeper and deeper. Cock throbbing around your quivering walls - overstimulated as you cum around the feeling of him filling you up. Vision blurring, blood roaring in your ears as everything crashes together like a tidal wave. 
Before you know it, you’re collapsing onto his heated chest. Limbs tangled and breaths mingling as you both try to catch your breaths. 
You can feel his cum leaking out of you, thick and sticky. Pooling between your legs. Stomach feeling so full of him.
“Looks like you talked a lot more shit than you could handle, darling.” you grin, still breathless. 
Oh. You shouldn’t have said that. 
It was like a flip switched.
Seizing your moment of weakness, rolling over in the blink of an eye. You sink into the now-soaked mattress as his large hands hold a bruising grip on your wrists, pinning them right above your head. 
He loomed menacingly over you, low whisper hot against your ear and sending shivers down your spine. 
“My turn, pretty girl.”
- GOJO, Choso, OIKAWA, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, EREN
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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cosycafune · 5 months ago
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SUCK UNTIL YOU CAN'T ANYMORE.
usually, you're not allowed to enter kento's office -- scheming. however, your mouth's filled with kento's -- trying not to get caught as you suck him dry. sure, he's going to punish you later. but that doesn't matter, right now. your job is to be a good girl and handle it.
acts: cock warming, oral (m) receiving, masturbating, gagging, crying, mascara streaming, and trying not to get caught. mdni 18+ masterlist.
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MESSY, gasping for air, gagging mercilessly, that’s what you’re doing. Doing as you’re beneath Kento’s desk, listening to his assistant blabber to him about the disorganised workers – on the phone. Kento knew doing something like this was heavily forbidden, but he couldn’t resist his girlfriend’s doe eyes – twinkling naively as you pretended to reach for something under the table. Only to trap Kento, sucking contently away on his cock – glancing up at him.
“Give me…a second,” Kento grunts out, muting his phone before he lodges his cock further into your mouth – listening to you struggling to take all of his cock.
Kento has a streak for slight roughness.
“You wanted…this,” Entertained, Kento softly mutters. Murky cognitively, Kento hurls his head back while he shoves your mouth impossibly close to his cock base.
“Hmm, that’s… it, princess,” Struggling to converse, loudly moaning, Kento lustfully glimpses down at you – struggling to fluently breathe.
“Mhm,” Each vibration you sent causes Kento to buck his hips intensely into your mouth, engrossed by his colossal cock knocking against the back of your throat.
“L-Look at you,” Kento grunts out, picking up on your prettily playing with your soppy cunt – desperate for more contact from him.
A moaning mess, Kento grins at your smeared mascara, your dignity completely thrown out and disregarded. He knew it was more disregarded the moment he noticed you completely at his mercy, waiting for his full spurts of cum exploding in your mouth. It takes him finishing so deeply within your mouth, for your eyes to light up with satisfaction.
“‘Gonna have to punish you later,” Smitten, Kento chuckles – grunting with satisfaction at his balls being emptied by you.
You’re everything.
--
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do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3
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dropsnectar · 3 months ago
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When The Dragon Saves You from the Prince
Dragon x gn!reader
NSFW
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So it looks like this turned into something a little longer than a drabble. I was going to wait a week until my poll finished but got impatient. So! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!
You knew as one of noble birth, the child of a Duke, that you would eventually be married off to the highest bidder. That's just how marriage was for the nobility. However, you hadn’t expected your loving parents to set up an engagement with an infamously rakish and daft prince. 
You hated the man. Whatever was supposed to be going on between his ears, was judged by that thing between his legs. When he had first met you, he had leveled with you that his reputation was true, and that expecting him to be faithful would be like asking water not to be wet.
Happy to have an excuse not to touch him, you basically ignored the man up until a week to the wedding. One afternoon his father the King had decided the two of you needed to look chummier, so he sent you off on a joint hunting trip with a few nobles. Of course, what you didn’t know was that these nobles were friends of his royal dumbass. 
They spent the whole time mocking your dukedom, and making salacious comments about your body and wedding night. Of course, your idiotic fiance only laughed at your expense, making comments of his own. 
To your own credit, you had handled their buffoonery with grace and wit. At one point, one of your barbed replies had actually struck a chord with one of the nobles, realization dawning on his face. He came off his horse and smacked you with all of his might. Too weak a man for a punch, he had gotten a solid hit on you, and you felt your eye heat and swell. Not good. The atmosphere had gone from snide joy, to predatory. 
The Prince himself got off his horse and stalked forward and pulled you by the hair down to the ground in front of his friends. They demanded to be repaid for the hurt done to them.
“I’m sure your pretty little mouth can be put to better use.” The Prince laughed, and he and his friends started to undress themselves.
That's when a loud, earsplitting screech hurtled through the air. A loud thumping and suddenly a large green dragon with large spikes started stampeding towards the group. He bucked aside the nobles, sending them and their horses running. Your fiance tried his best to pull up his pants, as he reached for his sword, but was unable to do either successfully. The dragon had stopped and stood tall before him, nostrils flaring. A pair of molten eyes stared him down, as if to challenge him. Of course, faced between defending you and running, he chose the latter. 
You couldn’t see the Dragon above you well, on account of the swelling in your eye and the hard pulsing headache that had started to vibrate through your head. The Dragon didn’t move, just stared at you as you blacked out.
***
When you came to you were warm. You opened your eyes to find yourself in a small room seemingly carved out of stone. There was a doorway with no door, that when you traveled through, brought you to a large cavern with high ceilings. You were surprised to find furniture, shelves filled with books, a large wooden desk filled with parchment and ink. 
“You are awake.”
You were startled to find yourself facing a being. He looked somewhat human, but the angles of his jaw, elbows and fingers were inhumanly sharp. His arms were covered in green scales, as well as his webbed ears, giving him away. When he spoke again you could see his sharp canines. He asked about the pain in your head. You admitted to feeling fine and he nodded. You had apparently gotten a concussion. 
The Dragon, who revealed his name to be Reix, explained that he had been exploring his new territory when he had felt evil and human pain radiating from where you had been staying. The land had recently been gifted to him by the king in exchange for his help in finding a cure for an elf and human disease that had run rampant for the last decade. He had taken it as his summer home, and was happy to find your health well.
You were surprised by his poised and friendly demeanor. You had heard that dragons were wild beasts, who occasionally took human form to steal treasure. You thanked him for his help, even if it was for not. You explained that the man had been the prince, and your fiance at that. You would not be able to escape him, even with your influence as a duke's child. 
“If you have nowhere to stay, you may stay here. It may not compare to an ornate palace, but I can assure you it will be better than what you would have to go home to.” 
Choose between a roaring evil monster and a kind, thoughtful being? Of course you were going with the dragon.
As the days went on you learned more about Reix, his character and his interest. He was the quiet studious type who prized his books over anything else. He even kept ancient first editions of many popular novels, some even with signatures. He also had some antique memorabilia, some keys from a printing press from his mothers favorite publishing company, a bookmark from a late saintess who he had befriended long ago. He showed you all his favorite books, nonfiction and fiction. You were even surprised to find that he enjoyed the occasional romance. 
“Why, Sir Dragon, are you perhaps a romantic?” You teased. He looked at you with pursed lips and a faint blush.
“I am not so cold that I can’t be moved by a good story. After all, most people experience it once or twice in their life. Love that is.”
The two of you had been fast friends, bonding over shared interests. You spent weeks, months like this. He would hunt or go out to town for your meals. He taught you how to cook. You were terrible at it at first, but he eventually learned to trust you to make omelets, and the famous everything soup. He was an incredible cook too, and he seemed to enjoy sharing recipes and meals with you. You couldn’t help but notice the occasional fond glances he’d send your way. 
You had to admit, you weren’t unaffected by his presence either. You noticed how strong the muscles of his arms were as he reached up to retrieve a book from the top shelf for you. His glowing hazel eyes always looked at you with respect and reverence. No one had ever looked at you like that before. And you had to admit you had never met a kinder person than him. You loved his smile,how his teeth tended to stick out as he spoke to you.
You were the one to make the first move. Reix had been sitting on the couch, reading in his usual way, when you cuddled right up next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder and covered your lap and feet with a blanket, as if to nap. He was stiff at first but eventually relaxed into you. You started to do this at every opportunity and you would notice that he would now forgo his study chair for the couch. Neither of you ever said anything about it, but you two never missed an afternoon cuddle.
One day, Reix sat you down, his limbs twitchy and expression solemn. 
“I will be straight with you. My species goes through something called a heat a few times every year. Mine is nearing, so I will be traveling to my home up north for a week.” He bit his lip before continuing. “But do not worry, I will stock the pantry and make sure you are as comfortable as possible while I’m… gone.”
A heat? You had read enough smutty novels to know what that was. The thought made your heart beat hard in your chest and a warmness pool in your gut. Well. Right now was as good of a time as any.
“What if I wanted you to stay?” You enunciated slowly. Reix frowned at you.
“You do not understand, I will not be myself. I will be like an animal. I won't be able to control my instincts.” He stared at you with big watery eyes.
You walked towards his chair and knelt at his feet, taking his hands into yours. 
“I will take all of you, if you let me.” You then pulled his hands up to your cheeks, forcing him to cradle your face. The two of you held each other's gaze for a long time, the tension palpable. 
When he kissed you, it didn’t taste sweet, like his words always were. His breath was fire, after all. The two of you burned up together.
***
You were wretched out of sleep by the feeling of rubbing on your ass. Strong arms gripped your waist, and you felt his ragged breath in your ear, moans sputtered from his lips, whispers of,”I’m sorry.” More groaning, “You feel so good…ahh!” And he came all over your nightgown. 
But this didn’t seem to sate him at all, as he continued to rub himself into the curve of your asscheeks, slick of him coating you and dripping down to your entrance. He seemed to realize you were awake because his voice increased in volume.
“Please. You promised…” He moaned out as he went from fucking your ass to plunging himself in between the plush of your thighs. The change in texture seemed to get him going as his speed started to increase. Much to his annoyance you turned around. He hated having to go even a second without his dick touching you, and you pulled him into a hot passionate kiss.
His mouth devoured you hungrily, arms now roaming the lines of your body. His eyes were glazed over in lust as he reached his head down to suck on your nipples, trying to get you sufficiently worked up. When he was close again, he brought dick up to your entrance, pushing in just the tip as he came. His hot cum slid into you, prepping you for what was to come next. You clenched around nothing, and started grinding on his dick, needing to take more of his length. 
He took you in one harsh thrust. You hadn’t seen what he had looked like before, but you could tell that his dick must have been an unusual shape. The ridges of his dick dragged deliciously against your walls, making you drool. He was so big it was a painful stretch. But you were nobility, and nobility took the long and hard things in life and made it work for them.
You reached your hand down and felt the part of him that wasn’t inside you and slowly started pumping, enjoying the soft, yet firm texture of him. He slowed his thrusting, suddenly overcome by how you were making him feel. The duality of your hands on him and being inside you made him want to scream out. His good little noble felt divine. He was having a spiritual awakening right there in your bedroom, as he got closer and closer to release. 
Eventually you had gotten used to the feeling of him and started rocking your hips in time with his strokes. The delectable friction he was giving you was building up inside you, a hot fiery pit about to explode. Your Reix’s gaze was full of devotion and need, but the way one of his hands gently came up to cup your cheeks made you burn. Even now, when he was ravaging you like the wild beast everyone assumed he was, he still treasured you.
You came hard around his girth, crying out as white hot pleasure pushed its way from your core to your fingertips. Reix soon followed after, unleashing another impossibly large load of his wetness within you. He slowed his minstrations and pulled out, going back to fucking your thighs until you were properly recovered enough to take him again. And take him you did, all through the night and the following day. 
When his heat had cooled, he brought you fruits, cheeses and bread, taking small bites and feeding it to you, as you were too exhausted to do so yourself. He seemed to take great joy in this as his normal small smile was blinding as he cared for you. He pulled you up and the two of you took a bath. He made sure to wipe you down first, every swipe of his rag gentle as he worshiped you with his glowing eyes. When he was done, he added more heat to the water and joined you, settling you down between his legs as he held your back to his chest.
You rested in silence for awhile, enjoying the warmth of the water and each others skin. 
“We should do something about that fiance of yours. Mind if I eat him?” He was playing with the damp curls of your hair, relishing in the texture. You smiled up at him.
“You don’t know where he's been. You could catch something. But I do have an idea. If you are up for it that is.” 
“For you, I would do anything.”
You smiled. Your father was next in line for the throne after the prince. Reix was a gentle giant most of the time, but you couldn’t help but think what a dashing and benevolent prince he would make.
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mattscoquette · 3 months ago
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perv!matt getting off in your bed
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matt shakily turned the door handle, quietly letting himself into your bedroom after he managed to slip away from the crowd outside. when nick came home last week saying you were throwing a pool party and you invited the three of them, matt was on a mission. 
he crept around your room, slowly and carefully examining each and every little thing in there. the way your desk was still messy with makeup, the photos you had on walls, your unmade bed. he tip toed to your dresser, opening all the drawers until he found was he was looking for. the drawer was filled to the brim with your underwear and bras, all scattered around as he began to dig through it. holding up each item, admiring all the various types of panties you owned. some were just plain cotton, others a bit more flirty, with thin straps at the top and lace. 
he felt his dick begin to twitch as he took fistfuls of your underwear, running his thumb across the fabric, knowing that it was at some point touching the part of you he desired most. he grabbed a pair, a dark red thong with flowers, and stuffed it into his short pocket before hastily shutting the drawer. 
he strided over to your bed, sitting atop the messy sheets as he tried to recollect himself from being so worked up from just holding your panties. as he sat on your bed, he couldn’t help himself from letting his mind wander to what you do on it other than sleep. what boys you’d brought into it, pleasuring you in ways he could only dream of. or if you would ever touch yourself, your fingers grasping hastily at the sheets as the others dragged up and down your slick folds. 
it was too much. before he knew it, his boxers and shorts were at his ankles as he laid back on your bed, beginning to stroke himself. he bit his lip as he held back whimpers, afraid someone would hear him from all the way outside. he dragged his hand up and down his cock, flicking his thumb across the bright red tip as he ached for you. 
he screwed his eyes shut tightly, stroking himself faster and faster. as he bucked up into his hand, he turned his head to bury his face into your blankets, deeply inhaling your scent. he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a guttural moan, the mere idea of you driving him insane. 
matt continued to pump his cock while keeping his face buried into your sheets, as if you would somehow suddenly be the one above him getting him off. his hand desperately grabbed at the sheets, stumbling upon a discarded shirt left on your bed. without hesitation, he grabbed the shirt and brought it up to his nose as he sniffed, trying his best to flood his senses with the smell of you. 
he inhaled deeply, smelling the faint lingering of perfume. he covered his face with the top, practically shoving the fabric in his mouth to muffle the sound of his moans as his hips sputtered and came all over his fist. his chest heaved as stayed on his back, looking at the shirt he’d just pulled away from his face and taking one last sniff before tossing it back onto your bed. 
he was quick to get back up and pull his shorts on, stopping at your dresser and swiping another pair of your panties as he headed out of your room and back outside. 
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© mattscoquette | taglist
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swordsandholly · 5 months ago
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part Nine: The Expo
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Your eyes widen to saucers as you climb out of John’s work van. The event hall in front of you is huge - the largest in the city. A big, glass dome with a high-end hotel attached. It glows in the morning sun. Lines of people have already formed out front. You passed them on your way around to the vendor entrance. It’s the twentieth anniversary for the Tattoo Expo, apparently, which means they expect massive crowds.
“I hate that Kyle couldn’t come.” You frown as a security worker hands over your badge. It’s fancy - heavy weight with brightly colored, neo-traditional graphics. Something about having the word VENDOR hanging around your neck makes your heart skip.
John sighs, heaving one of the boxes of his books onto your dolly. “Yeah. He tried but he couldn’t get his head out of the toilet long enough to do much of anythin’.”
You wrinkle your nose. Apparently he had caught some nasty stomach bug, poor guy. You thought about calling and checking in on him, but you worried that was too clingy. After… everything, you don’t want to come off as anything other than normal about it. Which you are. Totally normal.
At least Johnny was home for the day to help him out.
“Has Simon ever come?” You ask, titling the dolly pack to push into the convention hall.
John’s arms flex as he fights with his rolling tool box to get the handle back out so he can pull it. He just had to wear a sleeveless muscle tee, didn’t he? It’s rude, frankly. You look over his more rarely exposed shoulder and upper arm pieces - some more faded than others. Some more colorful, some better crafted. Part of you wants to reach out - to trace them the same way you want to with Simon. You want to ask him in detail about each one. Maybe he’ll let you, someday.
“Can you actually picture Simon in a convention hall?” He chuckles eventually, finally getting the toolbox rolling properly.
You laugh. “Guess not.”
The 141 booth sits in the center of the floor, surrounded by a few other big-name shops and figures in the community. You glance around at them, only recognizing a few. You don’t get much time to look around. There are only a couple hours designated for set up and you have to help hang all the flash options, get the cash box sorted, and be ready for the flood when it comes. You’ve mentally prepared for chaos, reading through pretty much every reddit and twitter thread you could find about convention disasters. You know that won’t happen here, and even if something did, John wouldn’t abandon you to it. Still, you feel better being mentally prepared for anything - no matter how unrealistic.
“Why do you still do these?” You ask, pinning one of the large flash sheets to the display board. “I mean - you don’t exactly have to get your name out there.”
“I enjoy them- the community. I was here when this was still bein’ held underground in an old warehouse.” John looks around, eyes scanning the rows of artists. He doesn’t share his thoughts, just stands there quietly for a moment with his hands on his hips. After a few beats he grumbles quietly, “Gettin’ old…”
You focus on setting up the front table where you’ll be stationed. John brought a few prints of work as well as several copies of his book. He brought a few signed ones as well, only selling them for about twenty more bucks than the usual price. You asked why he doesn’t mark them up more, but he just shrugged you off with a mutter of ‘I’m not all that’ before moving on to another task. You decided it was best not to argue that he is, indeed, all that. His books are literally filled until the late fall.
Maybe you shouldn’t be so proud of setting up a decently aesthetically pleasing display all on your own when you’re surrounded by real artists, but you still grin wide with your hands on your hips. It’s simple, with cards for each of the boys lining one sit and a roll of tattoo tickets for the day beside the cash box. The table cloth with the shop’s name looks nearly identical to the sign. One might call it lazy marketing, you find it charming.
“Somethin’ happen with you and Kyle?” John asks suddenly, back turned as he messes with something in his rolling tool box full of supplies.
You freeze, eyes wide and mouth dry. Did Kyle say something? You thought you’d been normal about it. Kyle hadn’t acted any differently - which shouldn’t have hurt your feelings - and you were sure you’d met him with the same level of normalcy. The past weeks race through your mind. Every moment, every interaction, picking each apart into threads in milliseconds.
“Uh, no? Why?” It comes out squeaky. Unsure. Lord, you really are a terrible liar.
John hums. He’s quiet for barely a beat, a moment that seems to stretch for lifetimes. You can almost feel your cells aging while you wait. “You’ve been quieter than usual around him. Just wanted t’make sure.”
“Oh.” Had you? You thought you’d been the same as always. Both of you totally moved on from… the incident. Well, except for those few times you caught yourself staring - zoning out while thinking about the way his lips pressed to yours. Imagining Kyle pulling you into the back room again. Another kiss with less nervousness and more heat. Actually bending you over the desk properly-
“Y’with me, love?” John snaps you back to reality.
“Yeah!” You jump and stutter. “Yeah. No. We’re fine. I’m… fine.”
You wonder if the giant guy in the weird homemade mask at the booth across from yours would smash your head in if you paid him. Let him free you from the torment of embarrassment. It had been eating away at you, if you’re honest with yourself, and now lying right to John’s face just feels… awful. He’ll find out. You know he will. Maybe he already knows as that was a test. Fuck if it was, you totally just failed.
The clock turns to nine, and you have no choice but to let that be a problem for your future self.
Something you realize rather quickly as the attendees begin to flood the hall is that John is a god here. People don’t meet his eye. They speak meekly, even to you, with voices low and faces flushed. The line for your booth stretches down the walkway as soon as the doors open - appointment tickets practically flying out of your hands. You overhear a pair of friends muttering about sleeping outside overnight to get in early enough for John’s booth. It makes your head spin.
You wonder if they’d still act that way if they saw him snoring open-mouthed at the desk in the back room mid-afternoon.
“Thought I heard 141 got a new front desk girl.” A syrupy southern accident lilts above you just as you finish selling tickets. He’s handsome. Blonde and blue eyed with a little scar gracing his cheekbone. Not much younger than John, you don’t think. Probably around Simon’s age.
You slip on your usual customer service smile. “Hello! How can I-”
“Graves.” John grunts behind you, not even looking up from the work in front of him. “What d’you want?”
“Just wanted to come see how you were.” The man - Graves - grins wide. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “And to meet your new front of house. Philip.”
You take the hand he holds out, giving a perfunctory shake and your name. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that John doesn’t like this guy, whoever he is, and you’re inclined to trust his judgement. You opt for basic small talk. “Are you an artist?”
Graves nods. “I own Shadow & Co. It’s a few blocks over from your place.”
Oh. You’d heard of them. They came highly recommended when you were looking for artists in the area initially. In the end you opted for John based entirely on vibes. The Shadow building is far too modern - to minimalist - for your liking. Too corporate.
“Y’know, we’re looking for a new desk girl as well.” Graves smiles. You do your best not to sneer at his use of desk girl. “We’re growing pretty quick - even if you wanted to split your time-”
“She’s full time with us.” John snaps - blatant irritation lining the edges of his voice. He still doesn’t turn around.
The blonde man pauses, glancing between you. Something passes over his eyes - some implicit knowing that you don’t quite get - but it’s gone just as fast as it came. He digs into his pocket, flipping open a too-new wallet and pulling out a business card. “Well, if you ever want to work somewhere more exciting-” you nearly laugh at that. “-give us a call, hm?”
You glance up to his face, then back down at the card. John’s tattoo gun continues to buzz behind you, but you can tell he’s slowed down. He’s listening. Before even really thinking you extend your hand, pushing the card he holds away from you.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m very happy here.”
Philip scoffs, dropping the card on the table. “Keep us in mind, yeah?”
He disappears into the crowd easily - blending in just like his shop’s namesake. Your nose wrinkles. You snatch up the card and tear it in two. “Dickhead.”
You think you hear John chuckling behind you, but can’t be sure over the roar of the convention.
The day flies by - people bustle by your booth. You run out of signed books just over halfway through - prints not long after. Your voice feels hoarse from talking to so many people. The hall has grown quite hot and you’re sure that your hair looks insane at this point. Either way, you’re having a great time. You get to talk to a with full body trash polka that you like for some reason. You get to meet one of the people involved in the stage competition - her massive thigh piece holding some of the best color work you’ve ever seen. All in all, despite the discomfort, you think this ranks in your top ten favorite days. Maybe top five.
“Excuse me?” Murmurs a voice so soft you almost miss it entirely over the roar of the convention. When you look up, you’re met with a painfully young face. Definitely not old enough for the 17+ entrance requirement.
“Hi!” You put on your warmest smile. “How can I help you?”
“I, uh, I was just…” They stutter, shifting in place. “I- Are there any signed copies left?”
You look them over, a too-familiar pang in your chest. You know those eyes, that anxiety. The jumpy way they look around at the people passing by and tug at their sleeves. Your teeth sink into your lip and you look over at the three blanks that make up your entire left over stock. Glancing over your shoulder, you see John finishing with his current client - giving the man a firm handshake before turning to clean up his station. There’s a fifteen minute break until the next one - his last for the night - and as much as you don’t want to take up his precious little time to set up…
“Let me check!” You squeak, shaky as you grab one of the blanks with all the subtlety of a brick over the head and cross the few feet over to where John sits. You lean over to speak in his ear, low enough that the kid won’t hear you. “John?”
“Hm?” He hums, turning slightly on his stool.
“Can you sign this one?” You chew your lip. “I know you had a set amount but this kid looks so…”
He glances behind you at the teenager in question, bashfully staring at their feet.
“I’m sorry, I know you need to set up for the next-”
John cuts you off by taking the book from your hands and standing.
“Thanks, dove.” He gives you that lovely, warm smile and rolls his shoulders before making his way over to the front table.
The teenager’s eyes go so wide you think they might pop out of their head. You decide to hang back and not interrupt their moment. John sets the book on the table and grabs a sharpie from your back up stash of pens. The kid mumbles something you can’t understand. John’s voice lowers as well. You can’t hear them, but you watch John scrawl something in the book and hand it over. He pushes away the crumpled, messy wad of cash the teenager tries to give him, shaking his head and saying something else that you don’t catch. The kid looks like they’re about to cry, a wide, wet grin splitting their face as they say goodbye and practically prance away.
You melt, shoulders slouching and what you’re sure is a very stupid smile breaking out across your lips. You don’t know why you doubted him for even a moment.
“What’s that face?” John scoffs, cocking a brow at you.
“Nothing.” You shake your head and re-take your spot at the table.
The ending of the convention is rather uneventful. Some of the other booths begin clearing up early. You take the time to count the cash box - which is absolutely stuffed to the brim. John rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck about five times in the span of a few minutes. Maybe you could convince them to do a company yoga class. It’s easy to see how tense and tired they get. You file that idea away for later.
Luckily most of the booth set up belonged to the venue and, since you sold out of books and prints, you don’t have haul those back to the van. All you have to take is John’s rolling toolbox and tattooing table. All things that easily fit in your bag and dolly. Thank god. Neither of you speak much on the drive back to the shop - opting for comfortable silence. Your ears ring ever so slightly from the noise of the convention hall. When you were in it, you hadn’t realized just how loud it was. John’s eyes are locked on the road, the slight glow from the setting sun warming his skin.
The sun just disappears over the horizon as you put the last of the equipment in the backroom - stacked rather messily but that’s another problem for future you. You’ve been working for a grand total of fourteen hours and, somehow, it still has yet to hit you. Adrenaline and excited energy still pulse under your skin.
John sighs loudly, crossing each arm over his chest to stretch them out. “Could really go for a scotch right now. You want a nightcap?”
Your cheeks warm, still riding high from the excitement of the day you agree easily. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
He gives you a gentle smile, softened further by the low street lights. “Let me show you a spot.”
The place John leads you to is small. Local. You sit at the bar and take a moment to look around. Three pool tables take up half the floor space. It looks like a small tournament is going on - a white board showing the matches and who will go against who next. Two ski-ball machines are tucked in a corner beside the bathroom, currently taken up by two younger men who you aren’t completely sure are drinking age. The lights and music are both low. One of the bartenders is posted up on the opposite end of the bar with two other people watching Shin Godzilla on the mounted television. It’s cozy and oh-so very John Price.
You get an easy sipper, something fruity and sweet as a treat for the long day you’ve had. It’s nice against the warmth of the summer evening. A heat that’s only aggravated by the one that settles in your spine whenever the guys are around. John especially.
“Think that kid was a little young for the event…” You blurt in a poor attempt to make conversation.
John nods along. “Definitely.”
“That was really nice of you. I didn’t want to… I don’t know.” You murmur, unsure why exactly the words won’t stop. You blame the drinks and exhaustion. Seems realistic enough. “They just seemed so sad.”
“Wasn’t nice. Just the right thing t’do.” John shrugs. His words come slow, almost as if he’s unsure if he should say them. Though, you find it hard to believe he has ever been unsure about anything in his life. “I know what its like… to need t’escape. Lied about my age just to enlist.”
Your eyes widen. “R-really?”
He hums. “They didn’t care much back then.”
For some reason you never thought about John’s childhood - his homelife. You know he has a mom somewhere. Kyle let it slip a couple of times - said she’s a really good cook. John doesn’t volunteer information about himself often, you gathered that much. He’s worse than Simon, somehow, which says a fucking lot.
“Did-” you mull over your words. “You didn’t grow up around here, yeah?”
It’s a clumsy attempt at getting him to talk, but it works well enough. He nods. “Hereford. My mum’s still out there.”
Score. “Do you visit her much?”
John shrugs, chuckling. “When I can. I could move back home and it wouldn’t be enough for her.”
You snicker.
“She’s the best woman I’ve ever known…” He murmurs, eyes far away. It’s only for a moment, but they look past you. Defocused in a way that seems to out of character for the hyper-aware man.
Your faces are close. Hunched in like school kids exchanging secrets and gossip during recess. Your eyes dart from his to his lips and back. It’s confusing. All of this. The intimacy you have with each of them in these moments is overwhelming. You like Kyle - you liked kissing Kyle - you really shouldn’t be wanting that from your boss, though. A co-worker is bad enough but John… John is off limits. You know that. Even so, you find yourself subconsciously leaning just a bit closer, eyes roving over the freckles you don’t see standing further away and the grey flecks in his eyes. You think, for barely a millisecond, that he leans in too.
Until he sits up straight, tossing back what little is left of his drink. “Let’s head out. Could go for a smoke.”
You nod, swallowing down your thoughts and following him out of the bar like a lost puppy. You’d follow him to the end of the earth, you think. Even if it hurts that you can’t get as close as you want, you’d go anywhere for him. Yeah, that’s definitely the drink and tiredness talking. Part of you also knows that it is undoubtedly true.
John rounds a corner to the side of the bar. It’s moderately lit, a single street lamp just down the way giving you just enough light to see. You lean against the wall beside John, the exhaustion beginning to cling to your eyes.
“Are you?” John asks suddenly.
“Hm?” You hum, unsure of what he’s asking about.
“Happy here?” He cuts the end off a cigar he pulled from the silver box that lives in his back pocket.
In the low light of the alley, his pupils overtake most of his irises. Dark and intense as he looks you over from head to toe. You see it, suddenly. The god that the others do. He’s not as physically large as Simon, or as loud as Johnny, but he fills every inch of any space he enters regardless. You suppose you became so used to being in that radius that you forgot just how much presence he carries. You’ve wrapped yourself in it like a blanket. A shield.
Your cheeks warm and you shuffle your feet. “I… yeah.”
“Good.” John sighs out a cloud of smoke. “It’d be a pain in the arse to replace you. The boys care about you too much.”
You stare up at him. You can feel something on the edge of his tone - some weight that you don’t understand. There always seems to be another layer to the things he says. Implications that you can’t understand, context that you’re missing. Part of you wants to ask, needs to ask, but the words get stuck in your throat. What would you say? You’re not even entirely sure what you need to ask. You know they care about you, and you care for them in turn, so why does it feel like there’s something missing?
“Does the boys include you?” You blurt, one again wishing that big guy from the convention was here to smash your head in like wile e. cayote and the anvil.
He looks you up and down, slightly taken aback while you debate on bolting. “Thought that was obvious.”
You scoff, still flustered. “You’re hard to read.”
“Am I, now?”
You nod. A comfortable silence falls over you, despite the awkwardness surely emanating from you. Your lip catches between your teeth, eyes on your feet. “John?”
“Dove?” He tilts his head, once again leaning ever so slightly closer to you.
“Thank you. For everything.” You murmur, voice low and unsure. “It’s… it’s really good here.”
“Think nothin’ of it, love.”
You look up at those pretty blue eyes. They always make your chest ache with some deep hole you haven’t been able to pin down. At first you could blame it on wanting to do well - to be a good employee. It’s more than that, though. It starts in your chest and seeps it’s way through the rest of you. A want. A craving. That’s the word. You crave those eyes on you. The weight of his hands, the fortitude of him.
You’re not sure who closes the gap - whether it’s you or him - but either way it closes. It’s too natural for the context of your relationship. You slot together too well. It’s not like with Kyle. John carries an intensity with him that Kyle never could. His beard scratches not unpleasantly. His lips are warm - you can taste hints of scotch and his cigar. He smells of spice and earth. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders - unsure of where to put them.
This is wrong. It’s messy. You already lied about Kyle, which he’ll surely find out. If he hasn’t already. What about Johnny? Or Simon? Will they think less of you? Are you less for this? For impulsively kissing your boss in some back alley? Will Kyle be angry if he finds out? Your thoughts surge, all chaotic waves crashing against each other in an attempt to make sense of this situation you find yourself in.
John’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your arms drape around his neck as you push onto your tips toes to meet him.
That’s a problem for future you.
A/N: Sorry this part took so long, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to escalate it or not but I want to get a move on with these boys
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Pitfighter! Vi X Reader: You are the only exception
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Warnings: smut, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving),fingering , Vi being a meanie (just a little), fluff, not proofread.
Word count: 2,4K
A/n: Might do a pt 2 (if y'all want it 🤷‍♀️)
You never expected that talking to Vi that one night would have made you end up here. 
Vi’s face is buried between your legs, pulling a sigh from your lips. Your hands grip at the cardboard beneath you body, desperately trying to stop yourself from bucking into her face. You can feel the strong muscles of her shoulders clench as she doubles down on her movements, making a moan rip from your mouth. Vi smirks against your cunt, one hand caressing your thigh as the other continues to put pressure on your hips. 
Loris had told you Vi’s fight tonight had been harder than usual and that he was worried she’d do something stupid. 
“Why don’t you go check on her then?”
“I tried. She told me to fuck off.”
You chuckled, shaking your head.
“She’ll listen if you go. She’s got a soft spot for you.”
That was true. You didn’t know why but Vi seemed to take your advice quite seriously. You’d met her a couple of weeks ago. You were dancing at one of the bars when she stumbled in, completely shitfaced. She’d bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. Most people would have taken one look at Vi and let it go. But not you.
 Oh no, not you. 
You marched right up to her, tapping her on her leather clad shoulder. She turned to face you, eyes falling on your angered expression. 
“You owe me a drink.”
Vi sighed, hand moving to rub at her eyes. She just wanted a quiet night out.
“Do I know you?”
The annoyance was clear in her tone but you didn’t back down. 
“No you don’t. But that didn’t stop you from crashing into me like some drunken sailor.”
Vi couldn’t help but smirk. You were feisty for your size. People normally went the other way when they saw her coming but not you. You walked your cute butt right in her direction. She couldn’t help but be amused. Vi turned to the bartender ordering a glass of her favorite beer, before turning to face you again.
“What you having princess?”
From that night on you became a constant in Vi’s life. You went to all her fights, intensely shouting the whole time as she ploughed through her opponents. When she won you would take her out for a drink, oftentimes dragging her to the dance floor with you. She didn’t really care for dancing but she made the sacrifice for you. When she lost you were the one you would drag her back to her bed, ignoring her mumbles and aggravated words. She’d tell you to fuck off and you tell her to go fuck herself right back. Not many people could handle Vi the way you did and even if she didn’t say it she was grateful for you. 
You had told Lois you’d check on the pink haired girl. He’d given you a grateful look and warned you that she would probably be wound up because of her last fight. He had been right. The second you stepped into her room you could feel the tension in the air. The place was filled with the sound of Vi hitting her punching bag with all her might. You walked in, taking a glance at the broken mirror before moving to sit down on her makeshift bed. You picked at your nails as you waited for Vi to finish ragging. 
“I already told Loris to fuck off.”
“Well I'm not Loris am i?”
You gave Vi a girn which she didn’t return. She gave the bag one last good punch before letting out a defeated sigh.
“Come here.”
“Princess i’m really not-”
“Violet come here.”
Vi raised her head to look up at you. Your tone was commanding but she knew you meant nothing by it. You just wanted her to shut up and let you help her out. She sighed, dragging her feet on the floor as she walked over to you. You moved so that she could sit next to you. 
“You wanna tell me what’s up or…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
You frowned slightly at her dismissive tone but you knew to respect her wishes. There was a lot about Vi you didn’t know about. You hadn’t known her for a long time but even so you’d grown attached to her fairly quickly. That didn't mean she told you everything but something about the way she behaved told you she’d been hurt a lot during her life. You wanted to be there for her. A shoulder to lean on when things got hard. Vi turned to face you, her eyes meeting yours. She placed a hand on your cheek.
“Distract me princess?”
“Sure Vi.”
Vi moved to sit down on the floor in front of you. You knew exactly what she wanted. You widen your legs, allowing her to slot her body against you. Your hands went to her hair, caressing her locks. Vi sighed as your hands massaged her scalp. She didn’t know how you did it but this always managed to remove all the tension in her body. It was such a simple act but it helped wonders. Your hands began to become stained with black as you continued your caress. It’s not like you minded though. You would just wash the grime off when you finished up. Vi sighed, her head moving to rest on your thigh. Your eyes fidgeted to the tattoo on the back of her neck. You always wondered if it had hurt a lot. You thought of asking Vi but something caught your attention. Vi’s lips were close to your thigh. She wasn’t doing anything, but the thought of her lips on your skin made you shiver. The truth was that you had a thing for Vi. The night you’d met you had expected to hate her but you’d been surprised. You had a crush on Vi and no intention of telling her.
Until now that is.
Vi felt your muscles become rigid for a moment. She could feel your fingers tense against her hair, causing her to raise her head. She turned to look at you. You stared down at her, your heart beating faster at the sight of her between your legs. Vi put a hand on your leg which didn’t help at all.
“Everything ok princess?”
Gosh she sounded so hot, her voice scratching against her throat due to all the screaming she’d done hours prior. Your face flushed, your body raising abruptly to stand. The action caused Vi’s face to be directly in front of your crotch and you almost fainted. The pink haired girl cocked her head to the side, brows furring at your odd behavior. She opened her mouth to speak but paused when her eyes caught onto something. There was a wet patch on your pants. It was barely there and the fabric of your shorts hid it well but the angle she was looking up at you made it very clear. Vi’s mouth went dry for a moment. 
After everything that had happened with Caitlyn she had stopped thinking about a lot of things. Sex wasn’t something that was on her mind a lot. She’d hardly get horny lately but the realisation that you were standing in her room, your wet cunt inches from her face made something snap inside her. 
You hadn't registered that Vi knew what was happening, far too focused on slowing your heartbeat to notice the gears turning in Vi’s head. You felt her hand wrap around your thigh, making your head snapp down to look at her. Vi’s pupils were incredibly dilated, she licked her bottom lip absentmindedly, not knowing how the action affected you. 
“Need a little help with this?”
She nodded her head at your crotch and you swore you could die of embarrassment. You unlatched yourself from her grip stumbling against her bed as you tried to move away from her. 
“I’m sorry I didn't mean to. You were so close and I just started thinking about the feeling of…”
Vi rose from the floor, watching as you struggled to make full sentences. She’d never seen you this flushed before, you were usually very confident around her. The thought that she could manage to make you this flustered thrilled her more than she had anticipated. 
“Hey.”
Vi’s voice made you look up from the floor, eyes moving against her features. She placed her hand on your cheek, slowly inching herself closer to you. Her knee slipped between your legs and you let out a whine. Vi smiled, her face mere inches from yours.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, princess.”
She moved her leg up putting more pressure against your pussy. Your hand latched onto her shoulder, nails digging into the muscles as you gasped. 
“So. Do you want my help or not?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
You could feel Vi’s breath against your lips as she spoke.
“I want to.”
You couldn’t take this anymore. Your body launched forward, lips crashing into Vi’s in a desperate kiss. You bit into her lip causing her to groan against your mouth. Vi grabbed at your hips, tugging you up. You wrapped your legs around her waist. She placed a hand on the back of your waist as the other moved to give your ass a squeeze. You gasped against her lips, allowing her to slip her tongue inside your mouth. Her boots clanged against the floor as she walks both of you over to her makeshift bed. She sinks down to her knees, placing you down on the edge of the bed as she continues to attack your mouth. You let out a content sigh as she moved to kiss your neck. 
“Vi i…”
“Yeah?”
She hasn’t even touched you yet and your voice already sounds so fucked out. It makes pride swell into her chest. Your hands grip at her locks tugging them slightly. She detaches her lips from your collarbone at the action, blue eyes gazing up at you.
“You gonna keep teasing or are you gonna help me out?”
“Bossy.”
“You know you love it.”
Vi smiles, nipping at your bottom lip for a moment before answering.
“I really do.”
The confession makes you blush and Vi thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Her hands move to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shorts. You lift your hips up, allowing her to pull them down your legs. She runs her finger against your clothes cunt, making you buck your hips up. She leans down to kiss your stomach, slowly inching herself lower. Her hand pushes against your stomach, silently telling you to lean back. You do as she asks laying on the bed beneath you. Vi’s hand latch onto your underwear, giving the waistband a small slap against your skin before begging to tug them off. Vi’s brain almost shortcuts at the sight of your bare pussy before her. You’re so incredibly wet for her that it takes her a moment to recover cognitive function. 
“Vi.”
Her name escapes your lips in a throaty whine,causing her to look up at your face.
“Please.”
You are begging for her to give you some release. Begging for her to fuck you stupid with her tongue. And by god if that doesn’t make her horny.
She tugs your legs over her shoulder, shifting herself in a more comfortable position before leaning down to give a lick to your slit. Your reaction is immediate. Your hands latch onto her hair, hips bucking as you chase the feeling of her tongue. The soft whine that escapes your lips makes Vi’s heart pound. She dragged her tongue against your clit, giving it a rough suck before continuing to lapp at your folds. One of her hands moves from its position on your hips, moving up to grab at your tits. Her thumb moves over your clothed breasts, caressing them. But it’s not enough, you want to feel her skin against yours.
Your hips shift slightly as you force yourself to sit up. Vi glances at you curiously for a moment, trying to understand what you're doing. You grab the hem of your shirt tugging it over your head. Vi’s eyes widen as your bare chest is revealed to her. Before she can help it one of her hands wrapped around your breast giving it a squeeze. You let out a loud moan, causing Vi to look at your face. Your eyes are shut, lips slightly parted in pleasure.
“Hey.”
Your eyes open at Vi’s voice, head moving to look down at the girl.
“Eyes on me princess. I want to see you.”
You give her a small smile, shifting back to lean on your elbows. Vi gives you a pleased smile before moving her focus back to your pussy. You try all your might to keep your eyes on Vi as she eats you out but it’s quite the challenge. Vi can tell you're getting close by the way your legs begin to shake around her head. It causes her to move her hand, fingers moving to help her tongue as she brings you to your peak. Your walls clench around her digits as you coat her face in your cum. Your elbows give out as your orgasm washes over you, causing you to fall onto the bed.
“That's it, let it out princess.”
Vi helps you through it, lips moving to give kisses to your thighs as she carefully removes her fingers from inside you. You let out a moan at the sudden emptiness. Vi moves off the floor, climbing up into the bed beside you. She lays on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. You shift closer to her, legs entangeling with hers as you rest your head on her chest. Vi places a small kiss to your temple.
“I had no idea.”
You look up at her.
“About what?”
“That you were attracted to me.”
You let out a small laugh.
“Vi i’ve had a thing for you since that first night at the bar.”
“Oh really?”
You bite your lip, a mischievous look taking over your features. You sit up, shifting until your body is straddling Vi’s hips. She smiles up at you, her hands moving to grip your waist.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you just how much I like you.”
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lilacxquartz · 2 months ago
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part 17 of 19 of kinktober: trapped
pyramid head x gn!reader
plot: while exploring the town, you find yourself incapacitated in the worst possible position — themes: warning for non con, dark smut, gender neutral reader, size difference, monster fucking, horror, gender neutral smut — w.c: 700ish
kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3
You were incapacitated.
Trapped in between the barely pried open iron bars, providing just big enough of a gap for your upper body to squeeze through and then… stall. In a way, it was humiliating, but in another sense, it was also terrifying because existing within the town as a whole was a death sentence in its own right. From one little miscalculation—you had potentially doomed yourself.
You tried to dislodge yourself again but the bars were too narrowly placed and you couldn’t push or pull yourself neither back nor forth and in doing so, you only found yourself more stuck than before. Panic quickly swept through your being in violent waves, abandoning all sense of rationality in favour of a hurried escape but nothing was working—but then finally, you heard it—the all too familiar scrape of metal, the thud of staggering footsteps—oh no, no, no… he was here.
You turned your head slightly back to just about catch a glimpse of him filling out the doorway, blocking all gaps of light that otherwise cut into the cell. In an attempt to avoid your flesh likely meeting the blade, you strove to push yourself forward, to at least nullify his efforts to strike you down… but then something else followed suit.
You froze as you felt his calloused hands brush around the soft contours of your exposed flesh; his fingers breaching the torn fabric and tearing away the cloth from the skin, readily exposing you to him. You remained statued in place as you feared for the worst, unable to quite comprehend what he was actually doing to you; almost delicately feeling you up—pushing—spreading your legs apart, ripping away at anything that acted as a barrier between you and him.
You tensed as you quickly understood what was following suit; feeling the tip of something very obvious poke against your most vulnerable parts. You writhed around and squirmed under his grip like a fish out of water, only to remain caught and hooked in his presence, feeling him drive into you in a near hungry pursuit. You gritted your teeth as you felt him force himself inside of you, feeling overwhelmed by his monstrous length that completely filled you out to the brim.
With shuddering, quaking cries, you softly wept as he continued to take in his brutal girth, feeling his cock slide in and out of your insides and stretch you out beyond a recoverable limit. With an unforgiving pace, Pyramid Head continued to hilt himself into your core, feverishly bucking into your body as a radiating, almost scalding pain akin to searing agony settled within the confines of your form. Of course however, he showed you no mercy, pounding into you with a near primal fervour; his hips slamming against your behind with each sawing motion.
Somehow, he grew needier as he continued to violate you—his fingernails digging bleeding crescents into the soft peaks of your ass, kneading against the cushioned skin and spreading you open as far as you could physically handle. It was as if he was trying to force you to accommodate the entire capacity of his impossible length, taking advantage of the limiting position, knowing that you couldn’t just pull yourself away.
Nearing his impending climax; his movements soon became more erratic and maybe even sloppy. He leaned his towering form closer wherever he could press against your bare back—causing the iron bars to crack open further—growling out heated breaths that rolled hot down your spine. Each passing thrust caused for you to shake, prompting you to involuntarily roll your eyes to the back of your head and perhaps even see stars from just how overwhelming it all truly was.
Just as you were about to pass out however, the monster finally came undone with one final violent rut of his stuttering hips. You gasped as you felt a stream of hot oozing warmth fill your senses to such an extent that your stomach nearly bulged from his pent up release.
Thinking it was all over, you tried to close your eyes to recover—but then you were promptly taken out of the cell, readily carried around like a rag doll, to be used and paraded around per each of his passing whims.
In a way you were thankful that he wasn’t going to end you outright.
But then you realised what your life was about to become and that much had otherwise terrified you.
Not quite a mercy after all and worse yet, rather a sentence in the hell you found yourself in.
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velvetcrimsonkisses · 5 months ago
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Ino who has such a big cock but doesn’t know how to use it. But it’s okay!! Because he now has you to help him out.
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“You like that don’t you pretty boy…?”
Your words like soft silk flood his sensitive ears as you press soft, sensuous kisses all over his perfect face. The way you have him straddled, grinding yourself against his painfully hard cock holds him in awe. He feels his mind drift into a haze, no longer able to form any words. All he can do is nod his head as he allows you to have your way with him.
He closes his eyes, savoring the sweet sensation of your lips on his skin. You could tell he was nervous, it was like this everytime. He never knew where to put his hands, or if he should try kissing you back or even try to initiate something more… he left it all up to you.
He liked when you touched him. The way your hands slipped under his black crew neck always got his muscles to tense up. He loved it when they tread lower and you graze over his v-line. Biting his lip so he doesn’t embarrass himself with the sounds he makes. But he can’t help but turn into a whiny mess when you tug down on his sweats, revealing what you both wanted most.
“Sorry…” He stumbles over his words. “If it’s not… what you expected.” His face rapidly flushes red.
Your eyes widen at the image in front of you. “I think it’s… more than I expected.” Your words only fluster him more, using his hand to hide his face. It’s a good thing you already knew how to calm him down because you only planned to ruin him even more.
He spreads his legs further as an invitation, his thick cock already covered in pre-cum bobs up slightly. Finally gaining the confidence to touch you, his hands shoot up to your hips as you ease yourself on his cock. Slowly you sink down onto him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as a low groan escaping his lips. “Fuck…me..”
He looks back up at you with dewy eyes, almost on the verge of crying because of how good you felt around him. His hips buck up, wanting you to move. He gasps as you begin to ride him, his head falling back against the pillow. He couldn’t help but watch the way your body moved against him, especially your tits, that just so happened to be right in front of his face.
His eyes now fixed on yours, almost asking you for permission to touch you more. The moment you give him a reassuring nod, his hands reach up to cup your chest, his thumb flicking over your delicate nipples, still watching you take control over him. The stretch of his cock inside you felt wonderful, you were sure you weren’t going to last long. But given the way Ino was like right now, you were definitely lasting more than him.
His hands fall back down your hips, gripping your hot skin tightly, as he tries to keep up with your frantic pace. His eyes are fixed on you, with a burning intensity, babbling complete and utter nonsense to you. His cock pulses inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment.
“Do you think you could last a little longer for me baby?” you ask him almost out of breath, using his shoulders to keep you stable, as you continue moving against him.
“Y-yes ma’am,” he whines. He’s telling you yes but shakes his head no, looking up at you with those big brown eyes again. He was so close, he could barely handle it anymore. His hips continue to meet your movements, struggling to hold back his release.
“Just a little longer baby..” you hold on to him tighter, squeezing on to his biceps as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. “M-m trying..” he responds to you with urgency in his voice. Eyes still pleading with you to let him cum deep inside you. His fingers dig into your ass, pulling you down harder onto him with every thrust.
His cock twitches and throbs inside you, the urge to fill you up now more than he can resist. He looks at you one more time, eager for your permission. Before you could even whisper yes, hot spurts of thick cum shoot inside you as you both orgasm in sync. He empties himself completely inside you before collapsing onto you. Strong hands still envelope you as his head buries itself into your chest. And all he can do is thank you as he tries to catch his breath.
Masterlist
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musubi-sama · 7 months ago
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Papa Mama, Kiss!
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Nanami Kento, girl dad, and how the small commands an almost-2year-old can etch into his heart.
A/N: Thanks @pseudowho for the gentle nudge to write this one out. And for everyone else, if it's not obvious, based on real events.
WC: 1.4K
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Fatherhood, raising and nurturing children to become their best selves. To give them wings and teach them to fly on their own. This is what Nanami Kento dreamed of for years. But almost two years in, his daughter was testing his last thread of patience.
“Papa, milk!” Kento returns with a glass of milk.
“Papa, tea!” Kento blinks, and returns with a glass of tea, finishing off the milk for himself along the way.
“Milk?” Kento sighs. Just as he starts to lift himself from his chair, you put your arm on his.
“Sweetest, could you take a sip of the tea first?” you offer the glass to your daughter, and she happily starts to drink the water, quickly emptying the cup. Sufficiently satiated, she goes back to eating her lunch.
You shoot your husband a soft smile, you’re met with a weary, but loving gaze in return. Features worn by time, bolstered by love, and cut by the effort of child rearing.
You both had done your research, coming to similar conclusions with differing approaches on how to tackle the approaching “Terrible Twos.”
Kento couldn’t understand the parenting blogs, as they made any solutions to challenges seem so…. simple to solve.
“Guaranteed to solve purple crying with one simple trick!” “Sleep training made easy! You’ll have quiet nights in less than a week!” “10 steps to handling a temper tantrum in public. Number 6 will surprise you”
But every solution seemed to be milquetoast, at best, and unhelpful at worst. But almost two years in, he started to get the hang of things. The secret is that his daughter was her own person and required him to think on his feet. And despite the new levels of exhaustion he had reached, especially in the early days, Nanami Kento was euphoric to see his daughter every morning. He missed her in the depths of his heart every second she was at daycare, or even just with you running errands.
Kento was a modern dad, bucking the trend by taking the full year of paternity leave along with you. Reassuring you that there would still be an open spot in daycare once it was time to return to work. And he was right. He helped fill out the pages and pages of paperwork. And choosing the 13 facilities to rank in hopes you were offered a spot at your number 1? Of course, your salaryman husband excelled at sorting the data and organizing the thick booklets of information.
When it came time to drop off your daughter on her first day, and it was only for two hours, you both arrived with big, nervous, first-time parent jitters. And were the only full family there in the morning drop off. The other parents sharing knowing glances at you and Kento fumbling clothes, trying to find the bins you needed, almost dropping the thermometer, and giving maybe one, two, three, too many kisses to your daughter as you handed her off.
The walk to the local coffee shop was filled with dreams of what fun your daughter would have with her class. Kento was hiding his nerves well, but you could see right through him. You saw the tremor in his hand, the nearly imperceptible gravel in his voice. He didn’t hold back for the other parents’ sake; he’d never do that. But he didn’t want your daughter to catch his nervous and scared energy. He knew if she felt his anxiety, it would make handing her off so much harder. He couldn’t bear to hear your cries of separation.
So, when you both returned two hours later, Kento lit up with the biggest smile and the most eager arms as the workers handed your daughter off to him.
“Oh, my love, I’ve missed you! What did you play with? Who did you meet? Please tell me all about your day, spare no details,” your doting husband cooed at your one-year-old. He continued an entire conversation with her, even if words didn’t form from the baby babble.
You spoke with the workers to understand how she fared for the short visit. They told you how she didn’t cry not even once. And how tomorrow your daughter can stay even longer, through the morning snack. It made you so happy to get such fantastic feedback.
After a few weeks, you all settled into a lovely routine. Both of you working from home left flexibility for drop off and pick up. And as your daughter became more capable of bigger play times, Kento would take her out to the local park so that you could make dinner most days. You loved the peace and quiet, he loved the bonding time.
As your daughter’s language built up over the months leading up to her second birthday, she was beginning to string together commands. Able to ask for help, food, drink, toys. She even started to command who could sit next to her and then tell them to “moot (move)” away and a new person would be not-so-gently asked to sit next to her.
“Papa,” she would point to a spot on the ground next to her, in the middle of the playground. And Kento is not the type to ignore the requests of a child. He took a polite squat next to your daughter, waiting with bated breath for the next command she would give.
“Mmm. Ah…up,” she reached her hands up in the air.
“Do you want up?” Kento reached over to lift his little one up in the air with a light, controlled, toss.
“Papa!”
You sat on a nearby bench watching, camera clicking over and over, catching the precious moments to share with your friends and family across the world.
That night ran like every other, a well-oiled machine. You took a bath with your daughter, Kento took her for a fresh diaper, clean pajamas, and to help him make, and for her to drink, the nightly milk bottle.
And the final step, you welcomed a sleepy toddler into your weary arms. Tonight, she was laden down with her stuffies of choice, a small Sylveon and Doraemon.
“Okay, let’s cuddle up here, please,” you coax a sleepy toddler into your lap and to lay against your chest. It seems like every day it gets harder as she grows bigger. What happened to your teeny tiny bub?
“Good night, I love you,” Kento leans down to give a kiss to the tiny (well, not so tiny anymore) forehead. “And I love you,” he leans over to your waiting lips as you tilt your head up. Every night you get a soft, but gently urgent kiss from Kento.
“Papa iss?” you both break from the kiss to hear a tired request. Your daughter had sat up from your chest and looked expectantly at Kento.
“Of course,” he leans down for another kiss, this time her cheek. A satisfied smile spreads across her face.
“Mama iss?”
“Yes, love.”
“Mama papa iss?” and you looked up at Kento to make sure you heard her correctly.
“Did she…?”
“You heard her now,” and Kento leans down for another kiss, this time he lingers a heartbeat longer. As he pulls away, in the dim haze of the nightlight he catches your waterline beginning to fill.
“Oh, baby, you’re so sweet,” you coo at your daughter, pulling her into a tender hug.
“Good night, you two,” Kento is standing by the door, soft smile from lips to eyes. He slips out and gently shuts the door.
After you spend a few minutes cuddling with your daughter, you gently lay her in the crib and quietly slip out of the bedroom, leaving her to take the last step to dreamworld.
You sit down on the couch next to Kento. Still feeling the buzz from twenty minutes ago, he reaches over to cup your face.
“How are you feeling?”
“I am going to ride that high for weeks. I can’t believe it,” your eyes can’t hold back the tears of love and happiness. You feel every bit of the dichotomy between the hard moments and the soaring highs of happiness.
Kento could feel his heart grow and swell. The small command would replay in his mind until his dying breath. It would be a story he shared as the father of the bride. An endearing tale he treasured, a memory he could rely on to get him through overtime.
Coaxing you into his lap, Kento presses his lips to yours much more urgently than the last kiss.
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littlelamy · 1 month ago
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massages with rafe
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They always started the same way—innocent enough, at least on the surface. It didn’t matter how much you told him you didn’t need it or how many excuses you tried to make. Rafe didn’t care. He was relentless in his mission to make sure you were taken care of.
“Baby, you’ve been carrying stress all week,” he’d say, his voice laced with that soft, commanding tone that left no room for argument. “Just let me handle it. Let me help.”
And so, you always gave in. How could you not? Especially when his hands were so good at coaxing away every ounce of tension you didn’t even know you had.
Tonight, you were on his bed, stretched out on your stomach, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting golden light across his sharp features. The sheets beneath you smelled like him—cedarwood and something faintly smoky—and the familiar scent was enough to ease some of the weight pressing on your chest.
Rafe straddled your legs, his hands warm and firm as they worked over your shoulders. His fingers pressed into your skin with practiced precision, finding every knot and coaxing it loose.
“You’re all wound up, princess,” he murmured, his thumbs digging into a particularly tight spot between your shoulder blades. “What’s got you so tense?”
“Life,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through the quiet room. “Good thing I’m here, huh?”
You didn’t answer, too focused on the way his hands worked their magic. His touch was firm yet tender, soothing yet intoxicating. It was almost too easy to lose yourself in the rhythm of his movements, to let your mind wander as his hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your spine.
But with Rafe, it was never just a massage.
The shift happened slowly, subtly at first. His hands lingered on the small of your back, his thumbs brushing against the waistband of your shorts in a way that made your breath hitch. You felt the change in the air, the way it seemed to thicken with something unspoken, something electric.
“Rafe,” you said, your voice soft, tentative.
“Hmm?” His response was casual, almost innocent, but the way his hands moved wasn’t.
His fingertips dipped just below the waistband, tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin. “Relax, baby. Let me take care of you.”
Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through your veins. His touch was intoxicating, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.
“You had a rough week,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder as his hands slid lower. “You deserve to feel good. Daddy’s got you.”
The words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. You couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching into his touch.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Just let me do the work.”
He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your legs in one smooth motion. The cool air against your bare skin made you shiver, but the warmth of his hands quickly chased it away. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful, as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing gently before moving higher.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as his fingertips traced the curve of your hips. “So perfect.”
Your cheeks burned at his words, but you didn’t have time to dwell on your embarrassment. Not when his fingers were sliding between your legs, finding the damp heat already building there.
“Look at you,” he said, his tone both teasing and adoring. “So puffy, so ready for me.”
A whimper escaped your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily as his fingers pressed against you through the thin fabric of your panties. He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your reaction.
“Rafe,” you gasped, your voice trembling as he slid the fabric aside, his fingers brushing against your bare skin.
“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice low and dripping with affection. “What do you need?”
“I...” Your words faltered, your mind too foggy with desire to form a coherent thought.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me, princess. I want to hear you say it.”
“I need you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He groaned softly, his fingers finally sliding inside you, drawing a gasp from your lips.
He moved slowly, deliberately, his fingers curling just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. His free hand slid beneath you, his palm pressing against your stomach to hold you steady as he worked you over.
“Feel that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. “That’s me taking care of you. That’s me making you feel good.”
You couldn’t answer, too lost in the sensation of his touch, the way his fingers moved inside you with an almost unbearable precision. He took his time, savoring every reaction, every moan and whimper that spilled from your lips.
“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice tinged with awe. “So perfect for me.”
Your body trembled beneath him, your hands gripping the sheets as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it, baby,” he said, his tone filled with pride. “Let go for me. I’ve got you.”
When the wave of pleasure finally crashed over you, it was overwhelming, all-consuming. Your body shook, your vision blurred, and all you could do was hold onto him as he guided you through it.
He didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. His touch remained steady, grounding you as you came down from the high, his lips pressing soft kisses against your shoulders and neck.
“Better?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern.
You nodded weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turned to look at him. “Yeah. Better.”
He smiled back, his expression tender as he leaned down to kiss you.
“Good,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “You deserve to feel good, princess. Always.”
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soleilapproves · 23 days ago
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Part two of mechanic Sukuna
Notes: not proof read, fem!reader
main masterlist
“I’m tellin’ you, man, that chick is gonna send her friend over. She looked like she was gonna faint when she saw you,” Toji called out from under the car he was working on.
Sukuna wanted to throw the wrench in his greasy hand at his friend. The two had been bickering about whether you or your friend would be coming to pick up your car after Sukuna had called you.
He was fondly recalling how shy you sounded over the phone but his friend digressed that you must’ve been scared.
There’s no way he looked scary, right? Sure, his hair was an unnatural shade of pink, pointing in every direction towards the sky. Sure, his tattoos would even send a gang member running, but it made him seem attractive. He even got a little eyebrow piercing to have that edgy yet sexy look.
He was interested in someone and it was finally time to put his looks to good use.
“I still can’t believe you made me clean her filters. You know I’m allergic to dust.” Sukuna could almost see Toji’s sulk. He pulled Toji out from underneath the Cadillac he was working on and pointed his wrench at him.
“Paid you fifty bucks for it, didn’t I? So shut up.”
“Are you threatening me with a wrench?”
“Just warning ya.”
Toji scoffed before pushing himself back under the car. There was only so much love sickness he could take.
You braced yourself before walking into the mechanic shop. Even if your first experience with a mechanic wasn’t scary, who’s to say that something bad wouldn’t happen the second time?
With a deep breath, you walked into the lions’ den, clutching your tote bag’s handle to your chest. It was your version of an armor. The battle of walking into a room full of men was never an easy one. You were hoping to be discreet but your heeled boots were loud enough to echo through the giant garage and made everyone’s heads turn towards your figure.
Your much smaller (figuratively and literally) and self-conscious figure.
As unexpected as it was, your eyes searched for Sukuna’s familiar face. You needed to stabilize your boat on the rocky waters you called social anxiety. Your sweaty hands were starting to leave an imprint on your canvas tote bag until you heard his voice.
“Looking for someone?”
There he was, standing in all his glory. No bandana but he was sporting an eyebrow piercing this time. Your eyes simply couldn’t tear away from it. It suited him well. He’d make a very attractive and charismatic gangster.
“Your car’s ready. Do you wanna check on the AC before leaving?”
You nodded at his suggestion, still too conscious to say anything. You cursed yourself for forgetting to even say hi because you were too busy admiring his piercing. His shoulders blocked everything in your line of sight so you just followed him towards your car, and you were surprised to see that it looked squeaky clean.
“Uh, we threw in a complimentary wash. College student discount and stuff.” He answered before you could even ask him. Toji scoffed at his answer but quickly went back to work when he noticed Sukuna’s glare in his direction. You felt squeamish knowing that Sukuna could read your body language a little too well.
But what happened next just made your stomach fold in on itself. He decided to lean in to your car as you sat down to check on the AC. It was like he was taking advantage of the fact that you hated confrontation. “Just tryin’ to feel a little cool. Still hot out in the garage, you know.”
Your tongue felt like it was too big for your mouth with way he was basically nose to nose with you. Did all his customers get such treatment? But then again, who were you to say no to him after he worked so hard to fix your AC. It was the least you could do (aside from tipping but he refused that).
You turned on the AC and he leaned in further, face basically resting on your neck, lips dangerously close to your cheek.
You could smell the musk of his sweat and natural scent. “Looks like it’s working fine,” he said while grinning against your face. You wish could agree with him but it was so distracting to have a man like him so close to you. It was horrifying. You had never let a man- no, anyone so close to your face without your permission. Shit, you wouldn’t even let them come into a 3 feet radius of you if you were unsettled by them.
But here he was, pushy and prideful, all up in your space. His hand was dangerously close to your ass with the way he was leaning into your car. You were basically sharing your oxygen with him. “Thank you for helping me with my AC.” You were surprised to find out that you finally had your voice back.
You couldn’t even look him in the eye while speaking. He was still very close to your face that you were afraid your lips would touch his if you were to turn. You were praying that he would pull away soon and by your lucky stars, he did. But not without breathing in deeply by your neck. Did he… try to smell you?
“You’re welcome. If you need anything else then let me know. I’ll always be available.” You were hoping that he meant during the shop’s work hours but hell, with the way he was looking at you, it could mean an entirely different thing.
“I’ll keep that mind,” you mumbled with a slow nod.
After you left, Toji walked up to Sukuna with a can of beer. “I don’t think she likes you like that. She looked like she wanted to run out of here.”
Sukuna bumped his can against Toji’s. “She’s just shy. I need to warm her up before I start the actual flirting.”
“I don’t know. You were so weird with her, man. I don’t think she’s ever coming back. Bet she won’t even send her little friend here either.”
“Oh, she’ll come back. And if she doesn’t then I’ll go to her.” Sukuna smirked while sipping his beer.
“Huh, how?”
“Destiny,” Sukuna said as he bumped Toji’s shoulder. The raven haired man could only cringe at his friend’s actions.
And you do reel him towards you. A week later, on a dark and rainy night when your car unexpectedly breaks down while driving.
Premise for part 3 has been built.
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tonycries · 10 months ago
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Wanna Do Bad Things To You
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Synopsis. He fucks you like he hates you. You didn’t mean to fuck your old friend-with-benefits - truly - it just kinda happened.
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! Reader, hate sex, ex-friends-with-benefits, slight angst, he’s still in love with you,  unprotected sex, jealous sex (from his side), choking, marking, pet names (my love, sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 1.5k
A/N. Ummmmmmmm yeah. Art by @_3eam on X.
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He fucks you like he hates you.
“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”
“Do it then. What? Scared he’ll do it bet-”
Cut off by a pathetic gurgle - his large hand around your throat. Ringed fingers tightening right above your pulse, the cold metal digging into your searing skin. 
Your vision is bleary, blood roaring in your ears as he leans down, muscled front against your back. His breath is hot against your face as he whispers lowly, “Running your mouth a bit too much, my love. You do the same with him as well?”
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to your cunt, pulsing and clenching furiously around his throbbing tip. Teasing your dripping entrance. Unmoving.
Your walls burn, struggling at the stretch of his thick head, yet still wanting the bastard to fucking move. Such a fucking tease. He was always like this - even back when you two were together, but that’s a story for another time.
Turning to glare at him over your shoulder, “So what if I do? Who are you to tell me what to do?”
You’re either an idiot or a mastermind. 
Maybe both. Because you feel his achingly hard cock twitch animalistically inside you, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across those kiss-bitten lips you knew too well. You hated how much you wanted them on yours right now. 
“You’re right. I’m not anyone to you.” he murmurs venomously, swiftly capturing the tender skin of your exposed neck, sharp teeth digging into you. Branding you. 
You keen, hips bucking uselessly against his bruising grip on your hips as he pulls away. God, you felt so used - and it made your walls flutter around him so desperately. 
Two long fingers reach up to squeeze your cheeks together mockingly into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look at him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for everyone. Including that little prick you’ve tried to replace me with.”
Your eyes flutter open in shock - you didn’t even realize they were scrunched up - getting lost in the ones boring into yours, half-lidded and pupils blown ferally. Electricity jolts through your body at the pure lust and rage whirling in his intense gaze. 
You two were going to be the deaths of each other.
You two were always going to end up like this.
You’ve barely even finished the thought before his flushed tip is kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
“Hah- Oh, fuck. Fuck you.” Eyes rolling to the back of your head as he sheaths himself completely in you. A low hiss leaves his swollen lips as he pulls out agonizingly slow, inch by inch, prominent veins dragging along your g-spot. 
“Fuck, you sure you hate me? Because this pussy seems like she can’t get enough of me, hm?”
Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by his rock-hard cock bullying its way back into your snug cunt. He fucks you animalistically, heavy balls stinging your pussy as his cock rams in and out of your hole over and over at a relentless pace. 
Strangled mewls of ah! ah! ah! leave your swollen lips as large fingers presses tight circles into your clit at a merciless rhythm matching the cadence of his hips. 
You mindlessly writhe against him, you felt so full - so split open on his cock. It was too much to handle. He was always too much to take. 
“Now now, don’t hah- run away from me, my love. If you’re going to act like such a fucking slut then take it like one.” he purrs, lip curling into a smug smirk that you wanted to smack off his pretty face. You couldn’t stand him - but you couldn’t get enough of him either.
“I’m not the hah- o-one that runs away. And- hngh- I’m not your ‘love’” you grit, because God forbid you go down without a fight - even when you’re falling apart completely under him.
What else could he have even expected? You always did see through him.
God, did he love that bitchy mouth of yours. 
Huffing out a surprised laugh, he wraps a strong arm around your waist pulling you deeper onto his throbbing cock - grip hard enough that he knows you’ll have marks to remember him by. Not like he planned on letting you ever forget him in the first place.
“You always did know how to push my buttons, huh, my love?” 
“Could say the same for you, sweetheart.”
Fuck that stupid fucking petname. How is it that even after years of not hearing it, his heart still lurches the same as it falls out of your mouth? That annoying, nagging part of his brain wonders if you call him the same thing.
And maybe you could read minds - he wouldn’t be surprised - because you open those pretty lips to say “Though, you’re not my sweetheart anymore, huh?”
Unexplainable anger seethes under his skin in a way that makes him want to claw it off. 
“Fuck you.” he hisses, turning your face so his mouth clashes with yours. It’s all bruising urgency and teeth clashing at the breathless dance of your tongues. 
His cock speeds up it’s abuse on your cunt, fucking you with impatient, harsh thrusts that have his leaking tip kissing your cervix. Had it not been for his firm hand around your throat, you were sure you’d have been slammed into the headboard creaking in protest.
“You drive me fucking insane. Fuck you.”
He hates the whines of his name falling from your kiss-bitten lips, and how it’s his favorite song.
He hates the tears clinging to your lashes in a way that makes him want to burn down anything that made you cry. Including himself.
He hates the way your cunt clamps down on him as if it hurts to part - he wishes you felt the same.
He hates the way he can’t let you go.
You were perfect, so perfect. Too perfect for him. He was probably better for you - all stability and reassurance where he is nothing but a whirlwind of change. 
In one, fluid move, he’s pulled out of the snug heaven of your dripping cunt - flipping you onto your back to stare into those beautiful eyes that haunt him every night. 
"Let's forget everything else, if just for tonight."
And with those words, he’s back inside you again, ramming into you with purpose. Though his thrusts are as unforgiving as ever, something about the air feels charged with something different. A rawness that both of you would have shied away from. 
“Th-this doesn’t hngh- fix us, y’know.”
“I know, my love.”
His low words muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the bite mark with a tenderness that doesn’t translate into his hips. And you can’t overthink it - because your head is only filled with him and the way your cunt is milking his thick cock so good. 
And later you’ll probably blame your foggy thoughts for the reason why your hands subconsciously wrap around his muscled shoulders, pulling him so impossibly close until you can feel his heartbeat thundering under your touch - in sync with your own. One. Two. Three.
“Ah! Shit. Doing so good, cunt made jus’ f’me. You’re made jus’ f’me.” choked moans leave his throat as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to look into your fucked out eyes. 
“Perfect f’me, my love.”
Maybe at his words - or maybe at his predatory, blown-out gaze - you buck your hips to desperately meet his. Breathless moans of his name leaving your bruised lips.
With a final, purposeful thrust of his cock, he pulls you once more into a familiar, searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. You see stars as you cum, mind barely registering the thick ropes of his seed that fill your quivering cunt.
A low groan leaves him as his cum forms a thick, white ring around his base, dripping down your legs and onto the bedsheets that he knew were your favorite. It was feral - and at least for this moment, it made him feel like yours. 
Some carnal part of him keeps bucking his hips into you as if on instinct, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper the way he would as lovers, his strong arms wrapped around you to keep you from moving away. But he didn’t have to, because right now you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Keeping you close. As if he never wanted to let go - both of your bodies a mindless whisper of what your minds craved. 
A delicate intimacy that only your bodies could bring rings in the sex-filled air. And when he finally stops, body collapsing onto yours - he whispers a secret. Meant for only the two of you in this quiet world.
“Fuck me like you still love me.”
Because by God was he in love with you.
- Gojo, TOJI, SUGURU, Atsumu, SUNA, Tsukishima, SAKUSA, EREN
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A/N. Maybe I’ll do some fluff next week to make up for this…
Plagiarism not authorized.
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