#just give me something to write i’m begging | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mommyownsmee · 2 days ago

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hey mommy I’m feeling super obedient and desperate to be bredd can you please write something to help me

I‘m always down to write about some good breeding! x

You’re on all fours, before me, presenting your cunt like a good, obedient cumdump, back arched, dripping, completely open for me. You’re not even trying to hide how badly you want it—you’re soaked, trembling, so desperate. But I don’t reward desperation so easily. No, I make you wait, make you suffer for it.

I slowly drag my fingers through your slick heat, teasing, never giving you what you really need. I slap your inner thigh, smirking as you whimper, as your body twitches, as you try so hard to push back against my touch. But I just chuckle, grabbing a fistful of your hair and coming closer to your ear.

"You think I’m going to fill you just because you’re whimpering?" I whisper, my breath hot against your ear. "No, sweetheart. You have to earn it. You have to prove to me that you deserve to be bred."

I press the tip of my strap against your entrance—just barely, just enough to make you gasp, to make you clench around nothing, to make you feel how badly you need more. Then I pull back, dragging the length of it along your soaked folds, making sure you ache, making sure you whimper, making sure you feel every second of denial. But you don’t get a choice. You take what I give.

I smirk as I watch you squirm beneath me, your hips twitching, your body desperate for more. But I won’t give in so easily. No, you’re going to suffer for this. You’re going to beg like the needy, pathetic little breeding toy you are.

I tighten my grip on your hair, yanking your head back until your lips part on a shaky, desperate gasp. "Go on, sweetheart." My voice is low, commanding, teasing. "Tell me just how badly you want it. Beg for me."

You let out a needy little whimper, your hips rolling back, trying to chase the tip of my strap—but I pull away again, chuckling darkly. You’re so fucking desperate it’s pathetic. But I’m not satisfied yet. I want to hear you say it.

"Please, mommy…" Your voice is soft at first, trembling, barely above a whisper. But I don’t move. I don’t give you what you want.

I tilt my head, feigning amusement. "That’s not good enough." I drag the strap along your slick folds again, pressing just enough to make you ache, but not enough to give you what you need. "Try again."

You whimper, a shudder running through your body as you desperately try to find the right words—words filthy enough to please me, to make me finally ruin you.

"Please, mommy—please, fuck me, fill me, use me—" your voice cracks, breath hitching as you struggle to hold back your sobs of frustration. "I want to be your perfect little breeding slut, I need to feel you stretch me open, I need to be fucked so deep I can’t think, can’t breathe—"

I press the strap against your entrance again, just barely pushing inside, and you whimper so sweetly, so desperately, your hands gripping the sheets like they might save you. But I don’t move. Not yet.

"Keep going." My tone is sharp, firm. "If you really want it, you’ll tell me exactly how badly you need to be bred."

You let out a broken little moan, shuddering, desperate, your entire body trembling from the denial. "Please, mommy, I need you to ruin me, I need you to fuck me like the useless little cumdump I am—" You gasp, your voice breaking into a desperate, sobbing whimper as you try again, try harder. "Make me yours, breed me, fill me up until I’m dripping with you—fuck me so deep I feel it for days—"

I groan, my nails digging into your hip as I listen to you debase yourself for me, say the filthiest, most desperate things just to please me. My grip on your hair tightens, forcing you to arch further, open wider, offer yourself completely.

"That’s better, baby." My voice is full of approval, teasing—but I’m still not satisfied. I press in deeper, stretching you just enough to make you gasp, to make you shake, but I still don’t give you everything.

"Keep begging."

You’re completely wrecked already, panting, broken, so fucking desperate you can barely breathe. But you do as you’re told.

"Please, please—" your voice is raw, trembling, soaked in need. "I’ll do anything, I’ll be such a good little slut for you, just please, please, fill me up, break me, own me, make me yours—"

Your words dissolve into a needy, whimpering mess, and I finally, finally, give in.

I slam into you in one brutal thrust, stretching you open, filling you to the hilt in one perfect, overwhelming moment. You cry out, back arching, body shaking, but I don’t give you time to adjust. No, you wanted this. You wanted to be bred, to be filled, to be fucked like the needy little thing you are.

I grip your hips tight, nails digging into your skin as I start pounding into you—deep, rough, merciless. I don’t give you a second to breathe, don’t let you do anything but take, take, take. My hands hold you down, keeping you exactly where I want you—helpless, used, owned.

"This is what you were made for, isn’t it?" My voice is sharp, possessive, growling against your skin. "To be filled. To be bred. To be nothing more than a hole for me to use."

I slam into you harder, making sure you feel every inch, every brutal snap of my hips, every moment I claim you completely. I grab your wrists, pulling them behind your back, using them as leverage to drive even deeper.

"You’re going to take all of it, aren’t you?" I murmur, pushing you further, ruining you completely. "You’re going to let me fill you up, stretch you out, make you my perfect little breeding hole."

You try to respond, but you can’t. You’re too gone, too overwhelmed, too fucked-out to do anything but moan, whimper, take it. I smirk, feeling the way your body tightens, the way you clench so perfectly around me, like your body is begging to be bred.

And I’ll give you exactly what you want.

I flip you onto your back, pinning you down, caging you beneath me, making sure you have nowhere to run. My weight is heavy against you as I slam into you even deeper, making sure you feel just how fucking full you are.

I hook your legs over my shoulders, folding you in half, pressing my body flush against yours. Now, every thrust is deeper, harder, reaching places that make you cry out, make your body shake, make you fall apart completely.

"You feel that?" I whisper, gripping your throat, tilting your chin up so you have to look at me while I pound into you without mercy. "That’s what it feels like to be bred. To be claimed. To be completely fucking ruined."

You shudder beneath me, your breath catching, your body so tight, so close. I press my hand against your stomach, right where I’m fucking you, right where you can feel how deep I am inside you.

"You feel me right here, don’t you?" I smirk, pressing harder, making you whimper. "I’m so deep inside you, stretching you perfectly, filling you up just like you need. You love this, don’t you? You love being bred, being fucked until you can’t think, being nothing more than a hole for me to fill."

You nod weakly, barely able to form words, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure. But I’m not done with you yet. No, I want to push you further, ruin you completely, break you down until all you can do is take what I give.

I lean in, my lips brushing against your ear as I whisper my final command—

"Cum for me."

And the moment I say it, you shatter. Your body tightens, clenches, shakes so violently as you scream my name, as you convulse around me, as I fuck you through every single second of it.

But I don’t stop. Not yet. I keep fucking you, keep pounding into you, making you take all of it until I know you’re truly, completely spent. Until you’re shaking, dripping, ruined beyond repair.

And when I finally slow down, when I finally let you catch your breath, I press a kiss to your jaw, smirking as I murmur—

"Good girl. Now, be a good breeding toy and take all of it."

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fenya-scribbles · 9 hours ago

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Blind - Part 2

♥--------♥--------♥

Part 1

Pairing: Felix x fem!Reader

Other Characters: Jisung mentioned, Minho mentioned

Summary: The morning after.

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Content warnings: none, I think?

Word Count: 952

A/N: I couldn‘t not write a part 2 for this. :3

♥--------♥--------♥

Three things were immediately apparent to you when you woke up:

1. Your head was pounding. Whatever alcohol had been in that dammed cocktail - you did not handle the aftermath too well.

2. You were not in your own bed. Because you knew the feel of your own bedsheets. You knew the firmness of your own mattress. This was not it.

3. You were not alone in the bed, judging from the heat that was radiated from beside you.

With a groan, you turned your body to the side and slowly opened your eyes. “Good morning, sunshine.” Felix was lying beside you, facing you with a soft smile. His brown eyes wandered over your face, stopping at your lips for a second, before locking onto yours. “Sleep well?” You groggily looked at him, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the sunlit room.

“I’m in your bed”, you stated instead of answering him. You were not yet awake enough to feel any type of way about that, but saying it out loud made it just a bit more real. “You are”, he said with a soft smile. As your brain caught up with your current situation, your hands nervously started to play with the hem of the shirt you were wearing underneath the blanket. Which was not your own shirt, since you had worn a crop top to the party.

“What am I wearing?”, you asked, barely able to keep eye contact with Felix. “A t-shirt”, he mused. “Whose t-shirt?” He chuckled. “Mine.” „I‘m wearing your t-shirt?“ Felix chuckled. „You‘re really blanking on last night, hm?“ Blood rushed to your cheeks as you tried very hard to remember what had happened.

And it worked. Piece by piece the events of the night came back to you. How you’d fallen right into his arms. How he’d tried to get you to leave but you insisted to thank Ji and Minho. How Felix had to carry you to his car and then to his apartment. How you’d begged him to give you something more comfortable to sleep in and he’d helped you change, because you‘d barely managed to get your top off. How you’d asked him to stay instead of sleeping on the couch.

The more you remembered, the more you pulled the blanket over your head. You let out a sound of frustration and embarrassment, hiding beneath the soft fabric. “Hey, hey”, Felix said, voice low and calm, “don’t hide that pretty face from me.” You could feel your cheeks burning from how flushed they were. “Look at me, sunshine, please.” He gently tugged on your blanked and eventually, you lifted your head to look at him again.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, as if suspended in time. As if you were the only people in existence. And all you could see was his face, all freckles and sweetness, and a part of you urged you to just kiss him. Just make the move. Just let it all out. But you didn‘t, still afraid, still insecure. Not even sleeping in his bed, wearing his shirt, waking up next to him, made you brave enough to risk everything you had with him.

Eventually, he spoke again. “I meant to ask you”, he said, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, “what did you want to thank Ji and Minho for yesterday?” You shivered slightly at his touch, so gentle it made you want to melt. “Nothing”, you said shyly. Felix just raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not believing your lie. “Fine”, you sighed, staring at his chest, unable to face him, “They told me you were trying to make me jealous.” You lifted your gaze again. “Were you?”

“Mhm.” Felix nodded, a playful smile on his face. “Why though?”, you asked, following that small nagging voice in your head that refused to believe the revelations made at the party. Felix giggled. “Because you’re absolutely blind, sunshine”, he explained. “What do you mean?” Felix put his hand on your cheek, gently brushing his thumb over your soft skin. “I’ve been flirting with you for months now.”

„You…have?“ It was hard to think clearly when the man you‘ve been in love with for years now touched your skin, lying close enough to take in his wonderful scent, saying things that had your heart clenching in your chest. And then he had the audacity to lean in closer. „I‘ve tried so hard to make you see it, sunshine“, he whispered and placed a featherlight kiss on your cheek, „but you‘ve been so busy trying to hide behind your insecurities.“ He placed another kiss on your other cheek. „When all I‘ve wanted to do all night yesterday was kiss you.“

It was as if your body was moving all on its own, throwing the nagging voice in your head over board as you captured Felix‘s lips in a soft, needy, desperate kiss. You could feel him smile into the kiss, could feel his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer. It was as if a weight was lifted from your heart, from your whole body actually. You felt incredibly light and incredibly safe, no doubt in you mind anymore about what was happening.

You didn‘t know how long the kiss lasted. It felt like forever and not remotely long enough all at the same time, but eventually both of you had to come up for air. When you did, you were smiling and panting, bodies still pressed together underneath the blankets. „Sorry it took me so long“, you said once you‘d caught your breath. „Sorry for making you jealous“, he answered, „now, can I make my girlfriend some pancakes?“

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

#stray kids #skz #stray kids felix #skz felix #felix x reader #felix x female reader #stray kids yongbok #skz yongbok #yongbok #felix yongbok #lee yongbok #lee felix #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

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jeonggukieverse · 5 hours ago

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Number One Fan:

Chapter 1 - The Accident

Pairing: Writer Y/N x Yandere Jungkook

Genre: Yandere/Horror Fic

Warnings: None in this Chapter

Word count: 4k

Synopsis - After a serious car crash, novelist Y/N is rescued by former nurse Jeon Jungkook, who claims to be her biggest fan. Jungkook brings her to his remote cabin to recover, where his obsession takes a dark turn when he discovers Y/N is killing off his favourite character from her novels. As Y/N devises plans for escape, Jungkook grows increasingly controlling.

A/N:

Y'all, the universe did not want the god forsaken fit written! My laptop got stolen ,my brother deleted my COMPLETED tic out of spite, my depression was whooping my ass but we pulled through. After 4 long months, it's here. If there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, my bad, I didn't proof-read this (I didn't want to jinx anything).

Leave a comment or reblog if you like it, id be super grateful <3333

- Ryeon <3

“Look Y/N, I just don’t think that this is rational. Or smart, for that matter. You’re giving up on your highest performing book series and for what? ‘You’ve grown to hate the main character?’ It’s your character! Change her!”

You rolled your eyes as Yoongi’s voice boomed through the speakers of your car. You understood why he was upset, of course. Yoongi had been the first one to go out on a limb and take a chance on 18-year-old Y/N. When you first met him, you had not a shred of credibility or writing experience to your name, just a couple of characters, a good story and a dream. Yoongi took a real gamble with you; he was one of the most sought-after literary agents in the game. You handed him your first ever manuscript at one of the book signings of a writer he was working with and begged him to read just one chapter. That took courage on your part because Yoongi was terrifying back then. His demeanour was stern and his hair was jet black and slicked back, the shade perfectly matching his suit. Both contrasted the alabaster pale shade of this skin. He was handsome and frightening but your ambitions were stronger than your fears. Luckily it paid off! Yoongi loved your manuscript and poured everything into getting it published.

That was 10 years and 9 books ago. The ‘Moth to Flame’ series had been a massive hit. The tale of romance and passion had become a worldwide sensation and catapulted you into the public eye. For the past 10 years you relished in the reality that your dream job was the one you were blessed to be doing.

That was until a year ago.

Yoongi had called you to his office completely beaming with excitement.

“Go on then Mr. Min, tell her!” Urged Gretta, Yoongi’s 70-year-old assistant. She was buzzing with the same enthusiastic energy as the man who stood before you.

“Tell me what? You two are scaring me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yoongi smile this much” you chuckled while sitting yourself down in the chair in front of his big mahogany desk.

Gretta giggled at your lightly panicked tone and Yoongi simply hummed in agreement. He was a very self-aware guy. He often reserved any outward expressions of joy for when the circumstances were great. And these circumstances were indeed great.

“I’ve just come off the phone with Panoma Film Studios. And they have asked for a meeting with us to discuss signing over the rights of ‘Moth to Flame”

“Sign over the rights? Why are they asking for that?”

“They want to make it a film dear!” Gretta burst out, arms flailing above her head in celebration.

The moment suddenly stilled for you. You contemplated for only a second before you came to a decision:

“Fine”

Yoongi was taken a back. One: by your immediate compliance. In the 10 years he had known you, not once have you agreed to something without an argument. And Two: there was not a shred of joy in your tone. The monotonous ‘fine’ completely juxtaposed the light-hearted jabs that came from you just moments ago. He was worried.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m happy” you said looking back to the man with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Gretta, could you grab us both a cup of tea please?”

“Yes Mr. Min” replied Gretta, her mood now slightly deflated as the atmosphere had shifted to a more solemn one. You felt sorry about that, she had seemed so happy.

As the door closed behind her, Yoongi’s eyes narrowed back on you.

“Alright kid, now tell me what’s up”.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore Yoongs. I’m done. I’m sick of writing this series. I have no connections with the story anymore cause I’ve been writing from the same perspective since I was 18 and I’m almost 30 now. It’s time for me to move on”.

You watched as his face drained of its colour.

“W-What?”

You paused as silence engulfed the room. You could have expanded on your decision but you wanted to let it sink in and for him to fully come to terms with it. because you were absolutely not going to be swayed about it.

“Then why would you agree to signing the writes away?”

“Cause once its officially not mine anymore I can legitimately move on. The series be their responsibility to carry on and mould and shape it into whatever they want. The burden of these characters I’ve grown to, honestly, despise will no longer be on my shoulders. And I’ll finally be free to write what I want”.

You could see the cogs turning in his head. Yoongi was struggling to put into words anything that would influence you to change your mind and not give up on their most profitable published work. But you shut that down.

“This book I’m writing will be the 10th and last on of the series.”

In the year that followed, you stayed true to your word. You had spent the whole year finalising the last piece of the story. You tied off any loose ends. You finalised everything.

It was done.

Last week, you headed back to Yoongi’s office to hand in your finished manuscript.

You strolled knocked on the door only to be startled by a voice behind you.

“He’s at lunch deary”

You spun around to be met with a warm familiar smile.

“Hi Gretta, sorry, I probably should have called first to let someone know I was coming over.” You babbled as she ushered you into her office and offered you a plate of muffins. Standard Gretta procedure.

Gretta was your first friend in the publishing world. Well aside from Yoongi.

She used to be an editor for the most popular newspaper in the country. But when her husband got sick, she decided to swap the hustle and bustle of the big city to a slower pace in the countryside. She always joked that even though her husband was the one being healed by the fresh country air; she was the one that healed the most. Being away from everything made her appreciate all she had. Her and her husband began to re learn each other after so many years and they learned to fall in love all over again.

You always loved hearing their stories. Their love for each other inspired you through your first bout of writers block. Their stories helped you write the 5th book in your series. You even dedicated it to them (and their pup Angus, of course).

The only reason she had crossed paths with Yoongi was because she was seeking out a part time job to keep herself busy. He said she came into the interview like a whirlwind, not affected by his intimidating aura in the slightest. When you asked her about how she could go up against the fierce jaguar like man, she responded with: Jaguar? To me he was nothing but a kitten. And you’d loved her since then.

“Don’t worry dear. He should have come back by now but he’s talking to a new potential client. She’s a 19-year-old wanting to pitch her love story. Sound familiar?”

You hummed.

“Let’s hope she flushed out her characters better than I did.”

“Now Y/N Y/L/N, I don’t want to hear any of that! You’re a fantastic writer, George and I have spent many afternoons reading your books! Some of the stories take us back to our early days when we were young and in love and I’m sure it does the same for other people too”

“Thank you, Gretta. You always know the right thing to say” you smiled, popping a piece of cherry muffin in your mouth.

“My dear, can I speak frankly?”

You gulped. Not only to finally swallow the delectable cherry muffin but also because Gretta almost never spoke in such a serious tone.

You nodded, unsure of where this conversation was about to go.

“Why are you really finishing your series? And don’t give me the same bullshit you gave Yoongi about not liking your characters! I know you Y/N and I know that’s not it. Or if it is, it isn’t that reason alone”

Damn, she’s good.

“Well, if I’m being honest Gretta, I feel like a fraud. All my life I’ve been reading and writing about love and life and I’ve never experienced either. I just…I just want to experience the love that you and George have, the love that I write about but I can’t and I’m afraid that my writing is reflecting that. Like just the other day a saw a critic say that my stories are ‘no longer grounded in reality’ and at first, I brushed it off but you know what? They’re right?”

“That was Archie from the Gazette, wasn’t it? I tell you dear that boy doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.”

You let out a cackle. Her quick reply stopped you from spiralling. Gretta really always did know the right thing to say.

“But if you’re really worried about that, take some time away! You’ve been working non-stop since you were practically a baby. Well, a baby to me.” She remarked as she walked over to sit directly in front of you. She reached out towards you and held your hands in hers.

“And if you really feel like you’re not grounded, take the time away to find the ground”.

“But how do I know where the ground is?”

“Well, when I’m looking for something I can’t find, I try to remember the last place I had it.”

“The last time I felt grounded was…back home at my parents’ house. Before I moved to come here to write properly”

“Then I think that’s a good a place as any to start dear. Take a couple of months to really decide if ending this is something you really want to do. You know I will support you regardless but I want the decision to be done to come from you being done. Rather than you being afraid”

You leaned in and enveloped her small for with a warm embrace.

Gretta is the mum your inner child longed for. Any interaction with her felt like it was healing pieces of your soul.

She was right. She always was.

So you packed your bags and headed back home.

“Y/N I think this trip will do you good. Just take some time decompress and do whatever it is you people do out there in the sticks”

“Okay city boy, not too much! Oak Falls is not the sticks. You think anywhere that doesn’t have at least 5 coffee shops on one street is practically the middle of know where”

“And im absolutely right. How’s the journey so far? When do you think you’ll get home”. Yoongi said, changing the subject. He knew you would annihilate him in defence of your town. Oak Falls wasn’t great but it was home.

“I should be there in about 20 minutes which is good cause it feels like the snow is getting heavier”

“Will your parents be home when you get there?”

“I think so. My mum usually finishes work around this time and my dad probably stayed at home today. I couldn’t imagine him working on the farm in this weather. Even if they’re not there, I know where they hide the spare key. They’ll just get a bit of a fright, since they don’t know that I’m coming”

“Well just- mak-s-re you le-t-someon-kn-“

Yoongi’s call began to break up before it cut out completely.

You felt uneasy but you tried to push it aside, you’ll be there soon anyway.

Soon you’d be home and out of this snowstorm that seem to have come out of nowhere.

One moment, the winding mountain road was clear, and the next, thick flakes fell like a blanket coating the tarmac in a blinding white. Suddenly the road before you had completely disappeared.

The tires of your car were now struggling for grip as you clutched the steering wheel tighter your heart racing with every skid. The storm was growing worse, and the isolation of the empty road offered no comfort.

You cursed under your breath. Of all the times for your phone to lose signal, it had to be now. The narrow road twisted and turned unpredictably, the guardrails barely visible under the thick accumulating snow. Your headlights fought to pierce the fog, but even they seemed overpowered by the storm.

Then it happened.

A patch of ice sent the car sliding to the side. Your hands wrestled with the steering wheel, but the car had a mind of its own. The screech of tires on ice was drowned out by the pounding of your heart.

The car spun out of control, crashing through the flimsy guardrail and sliding down a small embankment before slamming to a halt against a snowbank.

Pain flared in your head, sharp and immediate. Disoriented, you blinked, trying to focus, but the world around you swam in a dizzying haze. Blood trickled down your temple, warm against the chill that spilled through the cracked window. The engine sputtered and died, leaving you in an eerie silence, except for the howling wind outside.

You tried to move, but your body protested. A groan escaped your lips as you reached for your phone, only to find it flung somewhere out of reach. Panic bubbled in your chest. You were stranded in the middle of nowhere, injured, and utterly alone.

Or so you thought.

The sound of crunching snow reached your ears. Footsteps. Your pulse quickened as a shadow appeared just outside the shattered driver’s side window. A man crouched down, his features obscured by a thick coat and scarf wrapped tightly around his face. Only his eyes were visible, dark and intense as they scanned your injuries.

“Miss? Are you okay?” his voice cut through the storm, soft yet commanding.

You tried to respond, but your throat was dry, and your words came out as a weak croak. The man didn’t wait for an answer. He opened the door carefully, his movements precise and deliberate, as if afraid of startling you.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his brows furrowing in concern. “Don’t move. I’ll get you out.”

Before you could protest, his arms were around you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. The sudden movement made your vision swim, and you leaned into his chest instinctively, the scent of pine and something distinctly warm enveloping you.

“We need to get you inside,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re lucky I was nearby.”

Your sluggish brain registered his words but couldn’t process the implications. All you knew was that you were no longer in the freezing car, and someone was helping you. Darkness tugged at the edges of your vision as he carried you through the storm, his footsteps steady and sure despite the treacherous ground.

When you opened your eyes again, you were inside a warm, dimly lit room. The faint crackle of a fireplace filled the air, and the scent of wood smoke mingled with something sweet—maybe tea. Your head throbbed as you tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed against your shoulder, guiding you back down.

“Easy,” the man said, his voice close now. “You’ve been through a lot. Just rest.”

Your eyes finally focused on him. He was kneeling beside the couch you were lying on, his dark hair slightly damp from the snow. His features were striking, almost too perfect, with chapped lips and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through you. He smiled gently, but there was something unreadable in his expression that made your stomach twist.

“Who...” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jungkook,” he said simply, his gaze unwavering. “I found you on the side of the road. You’re lucky I was passing through. There’s no cell service out here, and the storm would’ve buried your car by morning.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, though the words felt inadequate.

“No need to thank me,” he replied, his smile widening just a fraction. “I’m just glad I got to you in time.”

He stood and moved to the fireplace, adjusting the logs with practiced ease. The warm light danced across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft curve of his mouth. Despite his calm demeanour, there was an intensity about him that you couldn’t ignore.

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“My cabin, just on the outskirts of Oak Falls” he said, turning back to you. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you safe until the storm passes.”

Your gaze wandered around the room. The cabin was small but cosy, with wooden walls that seemed to glow in the firelight. A thick woven rug covered the floor in front of the stone fireplace, and a few mismatched but comfortable-looking chairs were arranged around it. Shelves lined one wall, crammed with books, jars of dried herbs, and a few trinkets that looked hand-carved. A table sat near the kitchen area, which was marked by a small counter, a sink, and an old-fashioned stove. The whole space felt lived-in, almost charming, but there was an underlying sense of isolation that made your chest tighten

Safe. The word lingered in your mind, both reassuring and unsettling.

“Your head’s bleeding,” he continued, his tone softening. “I’ll clean it up. Hold on”

Before you could respond, Jungkook disappeared into another room and returned with a first aid kit. He knelt beside you again, his hands surprisingly gentle as he cleaned the wound on your temple. The sting of the antiseptic made you wince, but he murmured soothing words, his touch steady and careful.

“There,” he said, placing a bandage over the cut. “All better.”

You mumbled a quiet “thank you,” your exhaustion weighing heavily on you now. Jungkook’s eyes softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture was tender, almost too intimate, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take care of everything.”

As your eyes drifted shut, the last thing you saw was Jungkook’s enigmatic smile. Safe, you thought again, though the word no longer felt quite right.

Tag List: @whothefuckisthishoe @sexinukim @darkuni63 @00frenchfries00 @hopeworldsupremecy

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destiny-in-the-universe · 8 months ago

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someone please give me an rc9gn ship and i’ll either write a little ficlet for it, do headcanons, or just- i am struggling with ideas; still sort of feel completely wonk about everything, and i just want something to focus on and bc this is the current never-ending interest i’m just frothing at the mouth

also literally just give me an rc9gn character i can muse, a prompt (can be short!), and i will make something. pls- i’m so desperate (and my recent posts aren’t getting as many views? i know people are busy- i get that, but i also?? want some interaction-)

it doesn’t have to be angsty even though that’s apparently my main content lately, but! seriously-

Either this: ship / prompt (song/theme/literally a couple words/etc) / canon or au

character/muse / prompt (song/theme/etc) / canon or au

also let me know if you want ficlet or yk- ✨ headcanons ✨ or what, help me

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johnlacena · 2 years ago

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@staff comments from an engineer in the tags.

Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.

The Diagnosis

In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience.

Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content.

To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.

Our Guiding Principles

To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.

Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Retain and grow our creator base.

Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.

Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up.

We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.

Actions & Next Steps

Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.

Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.

Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.

The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.

Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant.

Actions & Next Steps

Deliver great content each time the app is opened.

Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are.

Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds.

Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.

Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.

Actions & Next Steps

Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.

Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs.

Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.

Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread.

Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads.

Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed.

Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.

Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.

Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.

The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.

It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.

Actions & Next Steps

Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it.

Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.

Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.

Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.

Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.

Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.

Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.

Actions & Next Steps

Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.

Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.

Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages.

Test what the right daily push notification limit is.

Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.

Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.

The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.

Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.

Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users.

Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.

Conclusion

Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.

#oh my god DO NOT DO THIS TUMBLR IM BEGGING YOU #JUST WRITE A TUTORIAL OR SOMETHING!#a bunch of new users just arrived—ask them what the pain points were! show them one of the instructional posts users have already written!#please please don’t give me an algorithm i don’t want it #i don’t want to be addicted to this platform rather #and i will never read emails and i don’t have notifications turned on #fix the search! please! listen #i’m a software engineer. i know why these kinds of projects get prioritized.#it looks better to shareholders. as soon as AI or algorithm enters the conversation stocks jump up and they keep rising.#but it’s a BAD IDEA!#so much time at so many jobs has been wasted on bad ideas—i know it’s not sexy but make the backlog the top priority!#don’t take away the core features i’m begging you #make the for you page better if you want i don’t care just leave the following page ALONE #tumblr #staff #help #product direction #core product strategy #engineering #it will only add to the backlog and break more stuff! you’ll be scrambling later and execs will demand to know #why things haven’t been fixed and you’ll say it was because you were adding what they wanted #and they’ll change their mind again #listen to the users. please. listen to the users! we know what we want! it’s all right here!#you can make it easier for new users without algorithms!#just FIX THE SEARCH FUNCTIONNNN #and add the multiple sorting that others mentioned that’s a great idea #i would use that

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fingertipsmp3 · 5 days ago

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The problem with cash is I literally convince myself that no one can see me spending it and therefore it’s not real money and can’t get me. And then I spend £48 on books

#my grandma gives me cash every time i see her and i always forget to deposit it until i’m carrying over 200 in cash like some child emperor #who is begging to be robbed #the thing is instead of depositing it i make these stupid financial decisions #anyway does anyone want my book haul in text form??? okay so #first i hit up a secondhand book shop and honestly i could’ve spent all day in there and bought everything but i tried to be realistic about #what i was actually going to read sometime soon #so i bought revival by stephen king; the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundera (i just keep hearing good things about this book #and i’m curious and it was only £1.50)#then i bought two taylor jenkins reid books; after i do & maybe in another life #i just like her romances. i don’t care for contemporary romance generally but idk there’s just something about how she writes #i really liked one true loves and how Much was going on in that book. so i decided to get these two as well #then i walked into a new book shop and for whatever reason my inhibitions just left my body #it would’ve been better if i had gone buckwild like this in the secondhand shop but anyway #i bought a fucking special edition of dracula. what’s really crazy is it wasn’t even the cover that sold me #the typesetting is so lovely for some reason. i saw it and i was like okay the next time i read dracula; it needs to be from this book #then i got rouge by mona awad because i loved bunny; it was so delightfully bizarre #and i dithered a bit but i bought orbital by samantha harvey #i am just so curious about how it beat james for the booker prize… i’ve gotta know why #i mean maybe i just have the blinders on when it comes to percival everett in that i think everything he writes should win an award #like maybe it’s just me #the owner gave me a free magazine and wrapped my books really nicely 🥹 i must cry #i feel like the trip was a success. i love independent bookshops. my wallet doesn’t though #personal

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fushitoru · 3 months ago

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seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene."

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in.

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers.

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!”

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up.

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under.

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck.

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless.

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table.

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond.

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?”

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage.

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

#divider by cafekitsune #aashi writes #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru

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moonlitwitchdaisy · 24 days ago

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this is what happens when social butterfly talks too much

“h-how filthy you are.” nanami’s voice was husky and laced with warning, trembling slightly as he spoke with each thrust, pinning you firmly to the bed and fucking you from behind.

what had led to this?

you had no idea.

you’d barely come back from school when nanami declared you were heading to his place. as soon as he opened the door, he kissed you roughly, scooped you up, carried you to his room, and bent you over, spanking your ass with fervor.

and god, it hurt.

his thick cock hit all your sweet spots with every thrust, making you bury your face further into the sheets beneath you. this position made you feel every inch of him so intensely that, even though you felt full to the brim, you still wanted more.

nanami groaned deeply, landing another sharp smack on your reddened ass. “what’s your deal, huh? trying—ugh—trying to drive me insane?” his large hands gripped your hips tighter, pushing his cock deeper into your sensitive walls.

“w-what are you talking about?” you managed to stammer, barely coherent, consumed by the maddening pleasure of his cock filling you.

“liar.” smack. “don’t even try to test me—fuck, you feel so good…”

it was too much. you’d already come so many times that each orgasm felt stronger and more frequent, your body trembling as nanami kept pounding into you without missing a beat, determined to ruin you completely.

“do you have to be so friendly with everyone?” his tone was sharper now, tinged with jealousy.

“i am not friendly—ahh ken, please—” your words broke off into a moan as he found that perfect spot inside you, sending you over the edge again.

“again? what a needy girl you are. did i tell you to come?” his pace slowed. nanami knew your orgasms were becoming more frequent as he kept thrusting his cock into you over and over again. that's why he wanted you to beg him a little.

“no, no, don’t stop!” you whined desperately, protesting the sudden lack of movement inside you.

“then why were you talking to them?” he thrust in just the tip before slamming his cock back inside you. “i hate how much of a social butterfly you are.” he pulled out until only his head was inside again.

oh. you finally understood why your boyfriend had been so riled up.

“they-they just needed the notes, ken.” the words fell from your lips in a shaky mumble.

“notes, huh?” he let out a bitter laugh, plunging deep enough to make you scream. “don’t they have their own hands to write? did it have to be you?”

“they m-missed class.”

nanami chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “sure, sweetheart.” he pulled back only to resume his relentless pace, pounding into you as if it were the last thing he’d ever do, fully intent on claiming every inch of you.

“never again—fuck—never give them anything, got it?” he punctuated his words with a rough thrust, making sure you felt every single one.

“yes.” your answer was muffled, your face buried in the sheets as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you.

a firm slap landed on your already sore ass. “louder sweetheart.”

“fuck, yes ken. i won’t talk to them again!” your hands clawed at the wrinkled sheets beneath you, gripping them tighter.

“that’s my girl.” nanami tilted his head back, feeling his release building as his pace became more frantic. “now i’m going to fill you up, sweetheart. i won’t stop until every inch of you is dripping with me.”

his grip on your hips tightened, his strong hands holding you so firmly it made your skin burn. you felt the warmth of his release spilling inside you, your toes curling at the sensation. there was something so satisfying about taking all of him, knowing you were the only one who could make him lose control like this.

when he finally pulled out, not a single drop escaped you. he’d made sure of that.

you shivered as his warm lips pressed against your sore, reddened ass.

“my beautiful girl. i love you so much,” he murmured, his hands now gentle as they rubbed soothing circles over your tender skin.

then, just as he’d carried you to the bedroom earlier, he scooped you up again and took you to the bathroom. there, he filled the tub with warm water and bubbles, treating you with all the care in the world, a stark contrast to his earlier roughness.

when nanami got jealous, he could lose himself completely—but no one else could fuck you like that or pamper you afterward quite like he could.

a little note: i'm so horny and i need jealous nanami.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #nanami kento #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x you #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento drabble

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 5 months ago

Text

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x female reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fanfic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett fic

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that-sarcastic-writer · 5 months ago

Text

A Touch of Madness

Logan Howlett X girlfriend!reader

Summary: Logan comes to you after being away, and all he wants is your touch, and he knows just how to get on your good side. This is just porn without plot.

Takes place in the same universe as Too Sweet but can be read as standalone

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, couch sex, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, the claws make an appearance (I have a thing for his claws okay), Logan is obsessed with his girl, fluffy relationship, established relationship

WC: 3.9k

A/N: how did I make this longer than too sweet when it was supposed to be a Drabble. Hello idk how to write short shit. But like hello yall are so awesome? I appreciate all the love yall have given my first Logan fic. I also have an older Logan fic in the works but that one has plot so it’ll be a minute before its out. For now here this <3

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were driving him mad. It’s not like he deserved your anger. Not fully anyway. It wasn’t his fault he was gone this long. He had been thinking about you all week, about your soft lips, about the warmth of your thighs, about your sweet moans only for his ears to hear. And all he wanted was to pull you into his arms and take you, over and over, until you begged him to stop.

But no.

You were being childish. That’s what he called it anyway.

“Sweet girl,” he called after you, like a puppy following close behind you as you strided around your apartment. He knew you were doing it on purpose, the excuse of having to do chores so you could elongate his torture. The way you so innocently looked back at him made him clench his jaw. “C’mon.”

“Don’t sweet girl me, Logan. I told you, I’m busy.” You sassed him, huffing as you kept walking, finding the most insignificant of chores to waste your time with. He rolled his eyes at you, eyebrows furrowed into this perpetual gaze of annoyance.

The truth was, you were aching for him, your thighs warm and your skin tingling solely at the thought of him taking you to do as he pleased. But, if there was something in this world you could be, it was petty. And if you had to suffer a whole week without him, he could suffer for an hour, even if it was also at your expense. Truly, you almost enjoyed the annoyance in his face, the sharpness in his voice, him damn near groaning behind you every time you evaded him under the excuse of needing to get some dumb chore done.

“You’re killin’ me here, sugar.” He actually groaned this time, his jaw set. You stopped in your tracks and turned your head to look at him, shooting him a pointed look. “I said I was sorry.”

“Serves you right. And I don’t care if you’re sorry. You haven’t called me in a week.” Your words were sharp with bitterness and it dawned on him. That was why you were upset. A slight bit of humor tugged at the corner of his lips and he breathed out a laugh. You stared at him with blank eyes, you weren’t laughing.

“C’mon, is that seriously why you’re upset? You know I was out of the state.” He tried to reason with you. Charles had entrusted him and Storm with finding a certain mutant that was causing havoc, three states over. And Logan had very much underestimated how long this would take them. So here he was, after a whole week away, damn near begging you to let him touch you. “It wasn’t like I wanted to go anyway.”

No, he would much rather be with his sweet girl, one that was being particularly difficult and making him suffer when all he wanted to do was hold you, to feel the warmth of your soft skin.

He stepped into your personal space, his intoxicating scent almost making you give in. You counted to five in your head, eyes closed to remind yourself that you were, indeed, angry at him.

“So? You got a phone, don’t you? You could’ve called me.” You huffed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled into a small pout, Logan had to hold back the urge to laugh at you. “You can’t disappear for a week and expect to come here and do as you please.”

You shot him a sharp glare, he just stared at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your sudden shot of confidence. His sweet girl was talking back to him? Giving him attitude? He tilted his head at you, almost as if to dare you to walk away from him.

There was a bit of malice in your eyes as you gave him one last look before you walked away, thinking of what other useless chore you could add to continue his torture. But Logan had other thoughts in his head. If you weren’t going to behave, he would happily put you in your place.

“Hey, c’mere or I’m gonna bring you here myself.” He called after you, the strings of his sanity hanging on by a thread, just waiting for you to tug at the last strand. He knew you too well. You turned your head, eyes big in feign innocence and you tilted your head at him in defiance.

“Make me then.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. In hindsight you should have known better, but you also wanted to see just what could happen if you pushed him hard enough. You saw the way his eyes flashed with malice, he stared you down, and in that moment you remembered just how small you were compared to him. “Oh fuck.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through you, but it wasn’t like you could go outrun him, especially not in your tiny apartment. He caught you, though he did purposely chase you into your living room, simply because he wanted to get you going, pumped with adrenaline. You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you against his chest. His sharp canines nipped at that one spot on your neck that had you whimpering.

“You goin’ somewhere, sugar?” He husked, his lips hot on your cheek. You couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, eyes closed. God, you missed him.

“Mhm, still mad at you.” You mumbled, barely hanging on to your silly grudge. A chuckle rumbled in Logan’s chest.

“That’s alright. I don’t need you to be happy with me to do what I want to do.” He inhaled, breathing your sweet scent, and he spoke as he threw you over his shoulder. “Just need you to look pretty while I do it.”

You weren’t complaining about your position, you were in fact, bursting into giggles as he effortlessly carried you to the couch, though your giggles turned into another squeal when he smacked his hand flat against your ass. Logan had a grin on his lips as he tossed you on the couch, wasting no time in spreading your legs apart to settle between them.

He leaned down, gripping the armrest above your head, caging you in as he leaned down. He brushed his nose against yours, sighing softly.

“Don’t be such a brat. Kiss me.” The words rumbled in his chest with a groan, his primal needs overcoming his senses. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling into a hard and heated kiss.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as he shrugged off his flannel, tossing it somewhere on the floor, his belt soon following the same fate. You tried to sit up against the armrest, but you quickly realized Logan had other plans deep in his perverted mind. With a hold of your ankle he dragged you down on the couch, your back flat on the surface as you looked up at him with big eyes.

“Stay just like that, pretty.” He spoke, pressing another heated kiss to your mouth before tugging off your sweatpants, followed by your panties. He tossed them somewhere over his shoulder, somewhere you would have to run around searching for later. But you couldn’t give a fuck about that. All you could focus on was the heat forming between your legs as Logan settled between them.

His eyes met with yours one last time before he was diving in between your warm thighs. His tongue licked long stripes from your hole up to your clit, circling around the sensitive nerve before going back down. Over and over until your soft gasps and sighs of pleasure turned into moans. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open to do as he pleased. One leg hung over the back of the couch and the other was thrown over his shoulder, and he effortlessly held you down as he shoved his tongue into your cunt. He was like an animal, insatiable as he took you on his tongue.

“Oh fuck. Shit—Logan—” Your eyes rolled back, lips parted as you whined. You gripped the back of the couch, soft twitches taking over you each time his nose brushed your clit.

It was no secret that Logan found pleasure in giving you yours, and he ate you like it. Grunts and hums rumbled in his chest as his tongue found your clit again, and he reveled in the particularly high pitched cry you let out when he slipped two fingers into your wet core.

“Needed to taste you so fuckin’ bad. I thought about it all week.” He spat into your clit, groaning at the way your tight walls squeezed his fingers. He could only imagine what you would do when it was his cock stretching your walls.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted, fingers lacing in his hair as he lapped at your clit. You wished you could hold your pleasure, rivet in it for just a little bit longer, but the way he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot, the way his tongue was so relentless on your swollen clit, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my—”

Your words never left your throat, chest pounding with sheer adrenaline as your release coated his face and fingers. It was sudden, it left you breathless as your thighs twitched with aftershock. Your eyes were wide and glossy in shock as you shuddered with the remnants of your orgasm. It wasn’t until you pathetically attempted to drag yourself away that Logan stopped. You were shaking, gasping softly when he pulled his fingers from you, but you all but cried when he licked at your wet pussy, getting a taste of you.

“Logan, please I can’t—” Your voice was shaky as you tried to move away from his face, he chuckled at you, pressing his face against your inner thigh before he crawled up to your face.

“‘Is okay. You did good.” He kissed your lips, his large hands holding your face as he let you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned, clenching around nothing already in anticipation of him filling you. “You wanna stop?”

“No, no, no! Need you, please!” You were quick to protest, wrapping your legs around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere. You couldn’t really stop him from doing anything, but he found it endearing that you tried. He bumped his nose against yours, lips pulled up into a tiny smile.

“Need me where, hm?” He opened his eyes to look at you, and truly how he didn’t bend you over the nearest flat surface the second he saw you was beyond his comprehension. You looked so perfect like this, underneath him, clinging to him. His sweet girl. He didn’t know what it was about you, but from the moment he met you he was done for. You drove him absolutely mad and now he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Inside me, Logan. Please.” You sighed out, face flushed with embarrassment. He smoothed out the frown lines on your forehead with a tiny kiss. A sweet gesture in comparison to what he was about to do to you.

In one swift motion he had you bent over the armrest, with your ass to him and your chest flat against the armrest. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as you glanced over your shoulder to watch as he pulled off his white tank top. Your glazed eyes fawned over each perfect muscle in his body, taking particular interest in the veins that popped in his arm when he flexed them as he ridded himself of his jeans. How you ended up with a man so incredibly hot, you had no idea, but you were thanking the Gods for that.

“I need to be inside you, too.” He rasped into your ear, groaning in ecstasy as he sank himself into your needy cunt. Your jaw fell open he filled you, inch by inch. He pulled your t-shirt over your head, instantly attaching his lips to your shoulder as he rutted his hips against your ass.

His pace was grueling from the start, grip tight on your hips, sure to leave bruises in the morning. A little reminder of his intoxicating presence. You braced yourself on the armrest, sounds of pleasure leaving your lips almost instantly. He pressed his forehead against your cheek, the thick hairs on his chest leaving a tingling sensation across your back as he held you flush against his chest. Heavy breaths filled your ears as you so desperately reached to touch him, any of him. Your trembling fingers found the sound of his face and he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“This what you needed, hm? Maybe I should fuck sweet pussy more often? Give it more attention?” He grunted the words in your ears, lips pressed against your cheek as a sheen layer of sweat began to coat your soft skin. You whimpered and nodded weakly, your cunt clenching him with excitement. He smirked softly, his hand coming up to lace through your hair. “Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet girl?”

Logan held your face down as his hips drilled into you, each delicious drag of his cock bringing you closer and closer to your sweet release. God, you needed it. All you could do was moan in response.

“Y-yes! God, yes. Please Logan.” You whined out shamelessly, eyes rolled back into your head. Logan hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pressed his lips to your temple, the gentle gesture ironic considering just what he was doing to you. He said nothing as he sneaked his free hand to the front of your body, rough fingers rubbing harsh circles on your sensitive clit. Your jaw fell open, your hand flying to grip his wrist. Your thighs clenched around his hand, whining as his cock brushed that one spot that had you seeing white. “Logan—”

Your voice was a warning, but he welcomed it. He flicked his wrist without mercy as he rolled his hips, his words only encouraging you to fall apart for him.

“Come for me, pretty girl. You can do that, can’t you? I know you want to.” He let go of your hair to turn your head to meet his eager lips. He happily swallowed the pathetic sounds that left your mouth as he flicked at your clit, his cock hitting so impossibly deep you were left trembling as your release seeped around him.

Logan held you down on his cock, his thumb playing with your clit until you were gasping and your nails dug into the skin of his wrist. He kissed along your jaw as his hips stilled for just a second, your body still shaking underneath him.

“You okay?” He asked softly, grabbing your face to look at him. You looked at him with hooded eyes and nodded weakly, barely lifting yourself off the couch.

“Yeah. ‘m okay.”

Logan tilted his head at you, an eyebrow raised with amusement as he leaned down to leave a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your hips, pulling out his cock to manhandle you onto your back before he was sinking himself into you again. Your slick walls welcomed him perfectly, like this was the only place he belonged, but he wasn’t complaining. If he could die, he would die happily buried deep in your cunt.

“Oh, God, Logan.” You gasped, thighs twitching as you looked down to find where his thick cock is filling you, splitting you open over and over. Your jaw fell open as you watched him grab one of your ankles and he held it up by his shoulder, spreading you open for him to dig himself deeper and deeper within you tight walls.

“Look at me, baby.” He groaned, chest heavy as a thin layer of sweat covered his muscled body. You did your best to comply, you looked up, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure as he damn near folded your body in half. Your knees were pressed against your chest as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yes, there she is. My pretty girl. I missed you.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, and also at the sting of his cock rapidly bringing you to your third release. The way he brought your legs to his shoulders, he sunk himself so deep within your walls you swore you felt him in your stomach. It felt so good you wanted to cry.

“Missed you too, Logan.” You brought your lips up to his, eyebrows furrowed into an expression of pure arousal as you gripped his hair, clinging to him for dear life.

Your release was quick and sudden, hitting you without a warning the second Logan pressed his thumb to your swollen clit. You were just so sensitive, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed. You clutched on to his large bicep as you spilled around his cock. The way your tight walls squeeze him made him groan, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on chasing his own release while fucking you through your own.

“Look at you, you’re just so good for me. Fuck it, I’ll just take you with me next time.” Groans fell freely from his soft lips as he braced himself on the back of the couch with one hand, and the other held the armrest above your head. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours as your sweet praises and chants of his name filled his ears.

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was animalistic, a deep growl as he coated your insides with his hot release. The metallic sound of sharp claws filled your ears once more as his claws unsheathed themselves from his knuckles, one on the back of the couch and the other just above your head, again. You gasped his name with a soft laugh, though you would be lying if you said it didn’t drive you feral when his claws accidentally came out. You brought a hand to his face as he pulled his claws out of your couch, the sharp metal once again hiding themselves within his knuckles with a sound. He held himself up on his forearm as his head fell to your neck.

“I’ll pay for it.” He muttered a chuckle into your neck, leaving a soft kiss to your jaw. You laughed, draping a hand over your forehead, breathing in deeply as you felt your mixed releases seep around his cock and drip onto the couch. He should just buy you a new couch, he thought.

“Wanna buy me a new body while you’re at it?” You teased him, already sensing you would have bruises and your thighs would ache for days.

“Did I hurt you?” Concern filled his voice as he lifted his head to scan your face for any discomfort as his hand came up to graze the thigh draped over his waist. You scrunched up your nose at him and shook your head.

“Of course not hun. Don’t be silly.” You traced your fingers over his face and gave him a lopsided smile.

“I did miss you, for the record.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too Logan.”

“Lemme clean you up sugar.” He sneaked a kiss to your cheek as he untangled himself from you, much to your protest.

You whined at the emptiness he left you as he stood up. Though you did quite enjoy the sight of his perfect ass he walked off to find something to clean his mess with. When he came back, he had a small towel and he cleaned you without protest, he left warm kisses on your face as you talked to him about your day. He ultimately tossed the towel aside and slipped on his boxers, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his still hard cock, but you needed a break. You didn’t let him leave though, reaching to grab his wrist with soft eyes

“Wanna watch a movie? I miss watching movies with you.” You mumbled, voice soft as you looked at him with pleading eyes. He laughed softly at you, you made it sound like you hadn’t seen him in a month.

But, how could he ever say no to his sweet girl?

“Mhm, put on somethin’ .” He gently moved you so that he was lying behind you on the couch, his big arms wrapped around you as he held you against his chest. Though you were still completely naked, you paid no mind to it. It actually felt kinda nice to be so close to him and feel the warmth of his body in such an intimate way.

He covered you both with the throw blanket you always kept over the couch for days exactly like this, for those days you wanted to feel warm and close with him on the couch. He ignored the three holes where stuffing was coming out of the ripped fabric as he pulled the soft blanket up to your chest and as you happily settled in his arms, clicking away at the TV. He would buy you a new couch, just as he bought you new pillows, and new blankets. And anything you asked him to, really.

Logan wasn’t used to domestic, the soft touches, cuddling, but he liked doing it with you. He craved it actually, probably just as much as he craved the sex.

“Next time you’re away that long, just give me a call? Please? So that I’m not worried sick thinking you died.” You finally said, the whole reason for such intense feelings merely an hour ago finally surfacing. He laughed softly at how ridiculous you sounded. He technically can’t die, he thought.

“I wouldn’t.. I can’t…Y’know what? You’re right. I’m still getting used to this whole having a girl thing. But I'll do better, yeah? Don’t need you to be mad, sugar.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, settling his face on your neck as he attempted to pay attention to whatever horror movie you decided to watch today. “But if you’re gonna let me fuck you like that when you’re mad, get mad more often.”

“Logan.” You scolded him, nudging his ribs softly as a warm blush coated your cheeks, knowing you wouldn’t hurt him, but it still made him chuckle.

He had to admit, he lasted way longer than he did last time. He lasted almost halfway through the movie before the feeling of his cock sitting hot and heavy in his boxers became apparent to him again. He inhaled your scent softly, his lips ghosting over your neck as he rolled his hips softly against your ass. And while you did try to protest, whining that you wanted to get through one movie with him, the sting of his cock was better than any movie in this world. The credits rolled, the soundtrack now drowned out by the sound of your sweet moans. Logan would be damned if he let you leave the warmth of his body for even just one second tonight. Or maybe ever.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #Logan Howlett smut #the Wolverine #Wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #Logan Howlett #Wolverine

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stunie · 8 months ago

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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 month ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.”

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.”

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist.

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.”

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep.

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity.

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December.

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls.

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.”

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.”

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders.

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.”

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks.

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?”

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-”

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face.

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern.

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion.

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.”

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind.

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.”

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?”

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip.

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.”

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him.

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.”

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on.

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for.

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response.

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.”

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough.

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.”

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet.

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-”

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.”

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family.

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.”

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull.

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.”

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters.

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin.

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him.

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him.

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand.

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him.

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours.

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded.

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame.

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him.

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.”

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest.

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way.

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths.

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.”

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you.

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!”

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath.

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high.

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you.

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.”

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest.

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.”

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns.

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.”

“Oh my god, you are the worst.”

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents.

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw.

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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heelix1r · 1 month ago

Text

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 I NEED YOU SO MUCH IT HURTS … 🎥

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ if they have to give up their sense of pride and lay everything on the line to show you how much they need you, then so be it.

bela is typing . . . HELLO SORRY FOR MY RANDOM BREAK FINALS SUCKS !!! wanted this needed this very much yes pls enjoy this with me 😼 i probably should do word counts too but i don’t use other media to write ,,,, SORRY JUNGWON’S IS A LIL ANGSTY

ot7 x gn!reader | drabble | romance/drama | no established au

masterlist | guidelines | requests OPEN !

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ LEE HEESEUNG ]

“y/n, stop.” you never turned around as heeseung kept calling out to you. you didn’t want to. turning around meant facing him again, and you didn’t know if you were capable of it.

“y/n, stop!” you walked faster, but heeseung’s legs were faster than yours. a brisk walk turned into a jog, until you broke out into a sprint, your vision blurred as you realized you’d never be able to outrun him. this proved to be true—before you knew it, a pair of arms had enveloped you with a strong force, the momentum barreling the two of you to the ground. you hit the grass with a thump.

“just go away,” you murmured, trying to avert your gaze from him. as you scrambled to your feet, you felt a tug at your legs. reluctantly, you looked downwards. the sight before you made your breath hitch in your throat.

heeseung laid himself bare for you as he got on his knees, grasping at you as if he was begging for his life.

he was begging for you.

you felt paralyzed as he looked up at you, pathetic and desperate. “just listen to me,” he pleaded, all discretions gone. his inhibitions had finally thrown out the window as he threw himself at your feet.

“heeseung—”

“please,” he begged, bowing his head. “i need you more than anyone else i’ve ever needed in my life. i didn’t get it before, but now i do.”

he looked up at you then, his shoulders slumped, his palms facing upward on his lap. “y/n… i love you. you don’t understand how badly i need you.”

he was in complete submission of you. the thought of lee heeseung at your mercy was a thought beyond comprehension.

“get up, heeseung,” you pleaded, not wanting to maintain eye contact. you tried to push him away, at least trying to pull him up from his knees, but he wouldn’t budge.

“stop calling me that,” he cried, shaking his head. he was groveling now. “baby, please. i need you. i’ll do anything to show you. i promise, i’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.” his eyes were tear-stricken. “please.”

you gave him a good look, the way he threw himself at your feet as if he knew nothing better. you were silent, completely still. he was a mess at your feet, and even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. you were at a loss for words. this was too much to take in all at once.

“let me prove it,” he begged, staring up at you like it was all he knew how to do. “give me the chance to show you how much i need you, how i’ll put everything into showing you that i need you here with me.”

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ PARK JONGSEONG ]

“what is it going to take for me to prove it to you?” jay yelled at you from across the way. “what do i have to do, huh? what do you need from me to show you that i’m serious?”

“just forget it, jay.” you gritted your teeth and turned away from him, your back facing away. “just go.”

“no. no!” his voice was clear. “i’m not going anywhere! i’m going to stay here, and i’m going to make you listen to me! i’m being serious about this!” he reached out to you, grabbing your shoulder with one hand and spinning you back towards him in one fell swoop.

you narrowed your eyes at him. “so you’re serious now, huh?” you asked facetiously. your tone held traces of mockery. “don’t make me laugh.”

“yes,” he agreed without letting you interject. “yes, i am serious. i will do anything and everything to prove this to you—right here, right now.”

“sure you will. just what could you possibly—jay? jay?” you stumbled over your words as he reached out to grab your wrist, giving you no room to fight back as he firmly placed your palm over his heart. you were frozen in place as he approached you then, breaking the distance between the two of you. “what are you—”

“do you feel that?” he interrupted you, his voice desperate, whiny. “do you feel me?”

you did. his heart beat was racing, more than you’d like to admit. the longer he stared at you, the faster it seemed to go. but no matter how fast it beat, he continued to stare at you, conveying his desperation the only way he knew how. “this is what you do to me,” he breathed out, gripping your wrist tighter. “keep it there. you drive me crazy. i need this. i need you.” when he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his facial expression softened. “i love you,” he whispered.

he had you stunned. he saw the way your jaw fell slightly ajar, and he took the opportunity to come even closer to you. his chest was inches apart from yours. “i’ll do anything to prove it,” he pleaded. “if this isn’t enough, i’ll do something that is. y/n, this is the most serious i’ve ever been in a long time. if it’s anything you can believe from me, it’s this.”

“jay, you can’t be serious,” you whispered.

he looked at you, the determination and desperation in his face clear. “yes, i am.”

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ SIM JAEYUN ]

“why do you keep doing this to me?” jake called out to you, his voice wild with frustration. “stop pushing me away! stop doing this!”

“just leave me alone,” you screamed back at him. but no matter how far you moved, he followed suit. “i don’t want you here. leave me alone.”

“you’re lying to yourself and you know it!” he argued, now beating your pace with a jog. before long, he caught up to your pace, taking your hands within his own. “y/n, i don’t understand. help me understand. i’m right here, for you. don’t you get it?”

“can you just let go?” you thrashed in his grip, trying to throw his hands from yours, but to no avail. “i told you, i don’t want you here, you don’t need to follow me, you don’t need to do anything of this. just leave already!”

“no!” he yelled in retaliation, his eyes widened with panic. “do you not get it? do you really not understand?”

“no,” you spat at him, “i don’t.”

then, in one swift motion, jake had his hands gripped to your hips, almost slamming your body against his. you yelped at the close proximity, but his eyes never wavered from yours.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice breathy. “i’m yours.”

you didn’t answer, his shock confession processing in your mind. noticing the way you slowly loosened your tense body, jake pressed his forehead to yours. “i am yours,” he repeated, his words pronounced. “undeniably, i belong to you. you are all i think about, you are in my dreams, you haunt me, and i invite it. i want all of it. i want all of you.”

“jake…” your attempts to escape his hold were futile—but you weren’t really trying your best, anyway. your voice faded as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb.

“i don’t care if you’ve got some baggage,” he continued, desperation creeping into his voice. “i don’t care if you have demons to fight, i want you. you, your baggage, your demons, i’ll fight them all for you if i have to. i’ll prove it to you. i’ll do anything for you. you say jump, i say how high.”

you swallowed a lump in your throat, completely in submission to his embrace, and he explored your expression, your eyes, your face.

“do you get it now?” he asks, his voice softer. “i love you.”

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ PARK SUNGHOON ]

“y/n, don’t make me do this!” sunghoon’s fading voice amidst the crowd was your only solace in your attempt to distance yourself from him. “please! just come back!”

“go to hell, sunghoon,” you spat at him, hearing the way people jostled and chastised him for rudely tossing them aside to reach you. but you didn’t turn to witness it for yourself. “i don’t want you here.”

“no,” he yelled at you, across the distance, amidst the people. he knew he couldn’t reach you. there were far too many people in this rush hour, and he’d lose the energy to push against them to make it to you. “i’m not going anywhere, i’m going to follow you until you turn around and let me say my piece!”

“what is there to say?” you asked, venom in your tone. “you don’t like saying anything, so don’t make me laugh.”

he grimaced at your words, because he knew you were right. but that had to change. right now, or else he was going to lose his chance forever.

“i have plenty to say, y/n,” he urged, pushing against yet another wave of unsuspecting strangers, all of whom shot him dirty glares. but he didn’t care—not in this moment. the way people thought of him didn’t matter, when losing you was in the balance.

“yeah, right.” you laughed, but there was no humor. you continued to storm away.

“i love you!”

his words made you stop in your tracks. despite every nerve in your body telling you this was a bad idea, you turned around, facing him from across the crowd.

“what?” you asked him.

“i need you,” he cried out. as more strangers realized what he was doing, they stepped to the side to give him some space to squeeze his way towards you. “i said it. i know i’m not the best with words, that a lot of the time i’m lacking, but if this is what it takes for you to understand, i’ll say it a thousand—no, a million times over.”

at last, amidst the active crowd, he grab your wrist and pulled you closer to him.

“do you need me to say it again?” he asked, searching your eyes for the answer. “because i can. i will. as many times as it takes. in front of all these people.”

he cups your face gently. “i’ll tell the world if i have to, if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ KIM SUNOO ]

“seriously, if you aren’t going to actually tell me what you’re trying to say, then stop making me think you’re going to.”

you huffed at sunoo, who had stumbled over his words once more. he scrunched his face in frustration, playing with his fingers as he followed you while you were walking away.

“hold on,” he cried, the frustration visible on his face. “please—just give me a second. i… i just don’t know what to say.”

“you’ve been saying that for months, sunoo. months.” you shook your head in disbelief at his words. “you keep stringing me along, wanting to tell me things, then you chicken out, and then you act like it never happened when i ask you about it. i don’t want to feel stupid anymore, because this isn’t fair.” you sped up your walking face, almost causing him to trip when he tried to keep up.

“i know, and i’ve been really mean for that,” he admitted, the anguish clear on his face. “but really, y/n, if we can just stop and you can just listen to me, i promise i’ll find the right words for you—”

“i’ve been trying to listen to you this whole time,” you snapped at him. “you’re the one who just won’t talk.”

“i’m going to!” he exclaimed, taking a deep breath as he quickened his pace. “please, just stop!”

“you’re so confusing, sunoo.” your voice twinged with hurt. “why would i believe you now?”

“because now i have the words to tell you that i love you!”

you stopped walking. as if time moved in slow motion, you turned, only to see sunoo bowing deeply for you. his eyes were squeezed tight, his hands were shaking. your breath was caught in your throat.

“what?” you asked, barely a whisper.

sunoo slowly looked up to you, and your eyes widened as you noticed his had begun to well up with tears. “i’m sorry,” he cried, approaching you and grasping your wrist. you didn’t move away from him. “every time i thought i had the confidence to tell you, i’d get scared you’d say no. that i would do something to mess everything up. and then i’d lose you.”

“and then i realized that by not telling you, i’d lose you even faster.” he gently squeezed his hand against yours. “and now, i’m realizing now that i’d rather tell you how i feel and make myself look stupid, no matter how i have to say it, than to lose you from my own cowardice.”

you couldn’t believe your ears. “sunoo…”

“i won’t be a coward, not anymore.” he swallows a nervous lump growing in his throat, shaking away any lingering anxiety he had left. “i adore you too much to ever hide away from you again.”

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ YANG JUNGWON ]

“y/n, you need to understand!” jungwon was desperately trying to get you to listen to him, but you were too busy grabbing your things, your contempt for him loud and clear. “this is necessary, what i’m doing is for us! can you please look at me? i’m really trying!”

“i’m trying, jungwon,” you hissed at him, throwing shirts into your bag without bothering to sort them out. “i really have tried to. but i feel alone. and i’ve tried to talk to you so many times, but no matter what, that’s the only thing i ever hear from you. that it’s necessary and that it’s for us.” you’re nearly in tears thinking about it, but you don’t want to look at him. “but what about me? i don’t know what your bigger picture is, because you’re always so focused on working towards something necessary, when all i’ve ever wanted is just the present time.”

your words ring deathly in jungwon’s ears, and his body feels crushed with the weight of it all. he’s rendered speechless, as you finish packing your things. you take his silence as him giving up, and you feel a pang of hurt in your chest, that he didn’t try any harder.

no matter. you were on your way out, anyway.

without another word, you slung your bag over your shoulder, your eyes glued to the floor as you made your way to the front door.

to your surprise, you heard jungwon’s feet scrambling past you, and by the time you reach the door, he’s already there, his back pressed towards it, keeping it close. he kept himself there to keep you from leaving. you saw the way the color escaped his face, begging you to reconsider your choices.

“y/n, please, don’t do this. just let me make things right with you.” jungwon planted his feet in a way that kept him rigid against the door, but the desperation on his face told you that if you really wanted to, you could push him aside. “i was so focused on the bigger picture i didn’t realize i should’ve focused on the special details in front of me.” he reached out to you, “i see that, and i don’t want to ever make that mistake again. i didn’t mean to hurt you, i’m so sorry. please, y/n, let me make this right.”

you gritted your teeth, trying to keep your composure. but jungwon’s sincerity was something you couldn’t ignore. “jungwon, why now? why does it have to be now?”

“i…” his voice falters. “i don’t… i don’t want to give you a stupid reason. or a lame excuse. i just… i thought i was doing the best thing for you. but the best thing was always to just appreciate having you here with me.”

when you don’t respond, he slumps to his knees in front of you. before you know it, he’s bowing for you to the floor, his hands curled into tight fists. he’s shaking.

“y/n,” he begs again, “please, i know i was too in my head to realize how much you needed me. but i need you. everything i’ve been doing is because i love you. and i’ll do anything to reassure you, to make sure that you never have to doubt me ever again.” his voice is muffled against the floor, but his words are crystal clear to you.

you dropped your bag and knelt beside him, nudging him. “stop bowing,” you murmured, your lips pressed together. “just get up. please.”

he peers at you, slowly getting up from his bowing position. without warning, he envelops his arms around you. “please believe me,” he whispers, “i’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. i need you here, with me. and i’ll be here for you, i promise.”

. ° ༘ 💋⋆ 🎸 ₊˚ෆ [ NISHIMURA RIKI ]

“you can stop pretending now,” you whispered, a clear hurt in your voice. “i’m sorry.”

riki was in a state of distress as he realized you had interpreted his words the wrong way. as you turned to move away, he grasped your wrist to prevent you from going any further. “y/n,” he breathed, shaking his head furiously. “no, you didn’t let me finish, you’re getting it all wrong.”

he was surprised at the speed you removed yourself from his hold. you were already walking away, and the farther you walked, the tighter riki’s chest constricted. he took a deep breath, realizing what it meant to chase you down. what this would mean for him.

but as he watched you fade into the distance, he cursed to himself. you were here, now. leaving, because of him.

it didn’t take him long to find his resolve. he chased you down, sprinting to catch up to you in a matter of moments.

you heard him sprinting, but you had to fight the urge to turn around to look. you didn’t know how much more you could take of this—

until he yelled out your name.

“y/n!” he called out, his breathing increased, his face flush from a mix of working up a sweat and something deeper. as you heard your name, your resolve weakened, and you turned to face him.

only for you to nearly be plowed over by riki’s forceful embrace. having to almost screech himself to a halt, he caught himself by wrapping his arms around you, nearly causing the both of you to topple over.

your face was pressed against his chest, but he wouldn’t waver. “riki, let go,” you called out to him, but he shook his head.

“i’m sick of this,” he whispered, “i’m sick and tired of running away. i’m done with this. i’m done with pretending.”

“what are you—”

one hand snaked around your waist, the other reaching forward to cup your cheek. “i need you,” he said, his voice no longer quiet. a proclamation of the truth he had been hiding from the world—no, himself—for too long. “more than i’ve ever needed anyone in my life.”

you were put in a stunned silence. riki only held you tighter, the facade of his indifference slowly slipping through the cracks. his eyebrows creased, his lip slightly quivering. “if it’s anything you’ll ever believe from me, let it be this.” he searched your eyes, to see if you harbored any doubt, any challenge to his words. “i’ve fallen so deeply in love with you, it’s suffocated me whole. and i… i’ve tried fighting it, i really have. but i can’t do that anymore, when it hurts me, and it hurts you.”

his thumb caresses your cheek. “i’ve been a fool,” he confesses, “but let me be your fool. i’ll learn, and i’ll be better. for you—for us. and i swear, i’ll make you the happiest you’ve ever been.”

1K notes · View notes

hwallazia · 1 month ago

Text

XMAS DINNER GOES WRONG – 정우영

⋆ synopsis. it seems like your husband can’t keep it in his pants, not even on a fucking christmas dinner with his family. but, as the lovely wifey you are, you gotta give him some relief, right?

pairing. husband! jung wooyoung & fem! reader.

wc. 3,2k

warnings. smut (mdni!), suggestive language, cussing, almost!! getting caught by wooyoung’s mom (oops), pet names (love, babe, my wife, pretty girl & more), nipple play, wooyoung sucks your entire skin (neck, collarbone, tits and the list can continue…), teasing, wooyoung tears your panties to shreds heh, not dirty—NASTY TALK, begging, yn at some point says “stop” but it’s bc she’s far too blissed out; not bc she actually wanted him to stop, this is alllll consensual!!, unprotected sex, praise ofc, squirting, gut-wrenching fluff in the end ‘cause love him too much.

nic’s notes ⋆ first ff of the xmas event yes sir !! i felt some shit writing this istg (๑/////๑ " )

you know holidays, right?

the perfect opportunity for the entire family to gather and celebrate achievements, blessings, and thousands and thousands of other things. cousins, nephews, aunts, uncles, and even great-grandparents were reunited in that cold and windy winter night. an entire feast was splayed on the table for everyone’s delightfulness, different kinds of foods and smells mixing and creating a delicious, toe-curling experience for anyone’s nostrils.

the hours you had spent shopping for every ingredient for each dish, cutting the vegetables, cooking everything to the exact, perfect point and term really paid off once your and your husband’s family were brought together at the large, dark oak table to celebrate your very first holiday — both families now joined together as one.

nothing could go wrong. the chatting flew as calm and joyful as spring water, sharing experiences and old memories pleasingly, smiles spread like the most enchanting disease—as well as the wholesome ambience, and everything was accompanied by a delightful meal, the well-deserved five star bonus of the evening.

so, if everything was meant to go perfectly, then why the hell was your husband staring at you with the most explicit, sluttiest “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen?

wooyoung sat in front of you, his two cousins sitting each on his sides. his plate was rather full, and that had an explanation: he was far too gone and busy burying heart-shaped daggers into your eyes while his hand cupped his cheek, head tilting to his right — his tongue glided over his dry bottom lip every now and then. you’d bet that none of his thoughts were in the bible. ‘cause fuck, even his younger brother would guess that something’s odd about him. that that’s not the usual behavior of his dear older brother.

“yn? darling?” the voice of wooyoung’s mother dragged out quickly of your insulation bubble. her tilted head clearly showed that she had been trying to talk to you for a while. a soft, warming hue of red struck your cheekbones.

as you gyrated your head to meet her worried gaze, you replied. “yes! mrs. jung, ‘m sorry. what were you saying?”

“are you doing fine, sweetie? you were gone for a bit.” she stared at you intently, genuinely worried about her daughter in-law. oh that woman was almost a fallen angel—if not one. if only she knew it was his own son who was to blame—the very last person she’d suspect, and oh, how deliciously ironic that was.

the figure of your husband’s shit-eating grin could be seen out of the corner of your eye—a sight that ignited a fiery rage within you, yet one you couldn’t help but savor, lingering on the view as long as possible before responding to your sweet mother-in-law. “oh, it was nothing. i’m prolly just zoning out because of how tired i am. y’ know, spending the entire day in the kitchen was exhausting.” the cherry on top of the excuse was the little, innocent giggle you emitted by the end. the woman gave you the most pitiful, yet endearing look. she lifted her arm, indicating with her open palm the white stairs, the reflection of the christmas-decorated banister lighting up her eyes.

“oh, sweetheart. you should go rest, it’s pretty late after all.” her gesture softened your heart, chest clenching a bit.

this woman was going to be the death of you! … uhm, never mind. first place is taken by wooyoung, who seems quite excited with the idea of going upstairs with you, by the way. take a guess at what his mind is scheming.

you shook your hands in front of your chest, quickly denying the opportunity. “thank you really, but i’m okay. i’ll just go wash my face.” you excused yourself, hovering your leg over the other and getting yourself up. “maybe that way i can wake up completely.” ending with a little giggle, you started walking towards the staircase when suddenly, the voice of your dear husband rang inside your ears.

“excuse me. i’ll go help my wife.” his foxy eyes curved into crescent moons, and his lips stretched wide, forming an upward line. oh fuck, you were done for.

“oh yes, i was about to ask you to do the same. please, son.” she stated, nodding approvingly. oh what a gentleman she had raised.

you resumed your steps quickly, arriving to the second floor in less than you expected. you turned your head, only to be met with an empty corridor. thank goodness he hadn’t gotten there yet.

or so you thought. ‘cause when you refocused your attention to your front, a pair of arms grabbed you by your waist and swung you around the air in a swift motion as he dragged you to an empty room. the last sound heard in the corridor was the slam of a closing door.

your breathless body was pinned against a cold wall, trapped between two quite familiar, tanned arms. simultaneously, your disoriented irises tried to adjust to the darkness of the room and focus on the feverish, hungry eyes standing in front of you.

“wh… what the fuck was that.” you muttered as the remains of your breath flew away. wooyoung seemed enchanted by your current state though.

“heeey, don’t curse at me like that.” his gentle, cocky voice penetrated your mind like a bullet. knuckles crept up the sides of your exposed arms, providing soothing strokes — goosebumps prickled to life in response. he opened his warm palms and reached to your also bare shoulder, massaging them. “after all, ’m jus’ here to help you.” he pulled his secret weapon and started making out with your neck, licking your flesh like a starving man and spreading wet kisses all over it.

“help me? how are you helping me like this?” you uttered as your breath hitched, head leaning to the side at the right angle to give him enough space.

wooyoung sucked that sensitive spot that always made your eyes roll to the very back of your head, dragging a whine out of you successfully. his chuckle and victorious smirk didn’t go unseen by your already blissed-out self. he leaned back a little to admire you. just for a bit, palms not leaving their place. “you’ll know when we’re done.” his hands moved in a swift motion, arms wrapping around your thighs and shoulders, lifting you effortlessly in a princess carry. “for now, just shut up and enjoy it, hm?”

“w-wooyoung—you know we can’t do this now— angh!” your anxious, flustered self made a futile attempt to reason with wooyoung, hoping he’d remember that both your families were gathered downstairs for a fucking christmas dinner—while he, entirely unbothered, seemed more than eager to spend the evening thoroughly ruining you in the bed just one floor above. and that was clearly shown when he threw you to the bed as if you were the lightest feather and immediately crawled to you.

“c’mon, love. i just wanna help you stay awake” his gravelly voice purred gift next to your ear as his taunting hands played with the sides of your dress, fingertips aching and itching to rip it off you.

he had you underneath him, completely flustered and nervous. he knew you were really anxious about the dinner—you’d spent a whole hour straight ranting about how nerve-wracking the preparations were, only to end up feeling physically ill from the overwhelming surge of dopamine flooding your system. but your reddened cheeks were smiling at him and your plump lips were whispering nasty things to him. holy fuck, how couldn’t he be tempted?

he needed to be balls deep in you. now.

his skillful tongue found home in your neck and collarbone, sucking cute love bites all over. but, your body was still tense, too uneasy at the thought of the possible scenario of someone entering the room and catching the two of you in such a compromising position.

“b-babe, please—hmph”

in a sultry tone, he muttered, “already begging. so fucking cute.” a smirk was drawn on his lips before his hands reached to your cleavage and popped your tits out of your low-cut dress. “y’ want me to fuck you? ‘s that what it is?”

before you could even think of an answer, he dived right into your breasts, licking your sensitive nipples as though they were his favorite toy — because they absolutely were.

god, the incessant thoughts that ran through your head and his tongue lapping around your buds were too much. everything was starting to be too much, and he hadn’t even taken your clothes off. with heightened sensitivity, your lips fell open and a beautiful, sweet melody of your moans and whimpers escaped through them — a delightful melody for your husband’s ears.

impatient hands stripped you of your glittery dress, leaving you with nothing but your black, thin panties. wooyoung took a moment for himself — well, more accurately for you, to admire and revel in your beauty as he should. a rush of blood surged to his cock, making it throb even harder than before. he was no more than a man, overwhelmed by desire. “you’re fucking irresistible, y’ know that?” he started down to where your and his crotch connected, brows furrowing when he saw your clothed pussy. “i think it’s time for this to go.”

a sharp rrrrrip! bounced through the walls and brought your attention. “woo did you just—?!” you followed the movement of his hands, which discarded the shreds of black fabric to the floor. “that was my—! hahh” and his thumb flew right to your already swollen clit, stimulating it with circling motions.

“why’re you whining when you know i’ll buy you ten more pairs,” he whispered as he soaked in the unsteady shiftiness of your body — and for that, he posed a strong yet harmless grip on your waist. his fat thumb worked nonstop over your bud, sending sparks right to it. your body jolted upward at the feeling of his middle and index fingers tracing soft lines up your pink folds. the sight of your walls clenching and relaxing around nothing spun him. “ooh, what a greedy wifey i got.” he chuckled under his breath, gaze stuck to his home — and i mean your cunt. “sooo desperate for my fingers, huh?”

at this point, any sense or unsteady thought had already vanished away, completely replaced by a selfish state of mind. you wanted him to finger you, fuck you, drive you insane. and you wanted it right fucking now. and so you mewled, “god, please just do something.”

“got the name wrong, darling.” and with that, he pushed two fingers at once inside your fluttering walls, tugging a satisfied moan out of you. “it’s wooyoung. or hubby” he giggled. he fucking giggled as he rammed those fingers mercilessly, shooting stars and fireworks filling your vision.

“w-wait stop— baby, please— fffuck!” stuttering words and incoherent gibberish spilled from your swollen lips, too red and slick from how often and harshly you’d bitten them; eyes welling up with tears from the intense pleasure overload.

“stop?” a chuckle rumbled through his chest. “fine then” he withdrew his long phalanges, leaving you empty. completely fucking empty, with velvety and throbbing walls already missing him. you cried as you felt the void of your pulsating pussy, but before you could coax a desperate “please” from your lips, wooyoung grabbed you by the waist. you gasped, as he manhandled you, positioning you on top, naked folds grazing his clothed sex.

you pouted and wooyoung laughed. he was finding this shit way too funny. “since you so nicely begged me to stop, then put your back into it, mm?” a loud smack! reverberated through the walls as his heavy palm landed on the flesh of your ass. “fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”

and did he have to tell you twice. desperate, shuddering hands worked on his dress pants, quickly undoing his belt and zipping it down just enough to uncover his rock-hard bulge. you grabbed the band of his boxers and pulled it down as well, his cock springing finally free. with a smooth movement, you took his member and positioned it below you. and just before you sit down on him completely, someone knocked on the fucking door.

the surprise caused you to jolt and lose control, sinking in a faster and sloppier motion than you intended — a loud cry resonating through the thin walls the moment his tip kissed your cervix perfectly. with eyes wide open, you slapped a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself for being so fucking noisy and sensitive and—

“yn? are you in here?” the muffled voice of wooyoung’s mother echoed from the other side of the door.

shit shit shit.

“y-yes, ma’am! i… ’m kinda busy over in here—ugh!” you tried to speak as loud and clear as you could, but wooyoung seemed to be unbothered by your efforts since he grabbed your hips and started swaying your core up and down his girth. up, down, up, down.

you stared at your husband with glaring eyes, stabbing knives into his. fuck, did this man even care about being heard by his own mother? now, with all doubts gone, you’re certain you’ve married a freak.

“are you okay, sweetie? what’s going on over there?”

and you swear you heard the door creaking open, so you exclaimed. “no! everything’s fine!” you yelped, your voice higher-pitched than you intended. “please don’t come in.”

wooyoung chuckled underneath you, soaking in the sight of your nervous self trying to mute your cries as your tits bounced right on his face. he could die right there and then and he’d be happy. “what’s wrong, baby? can’t take it?” he whispered as he gazed directly into your tightly scrunched eyes, your partially open mouth releasing nothing more but silent cries and pleas.

“fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” you hushed soundlessly, yet willingly bouncing up and down his length. the low, manly giggle he uttered spun you. fuck, he had you wrapped up around his finger.

“oookay? uhm, do you know where my son is? is he there with you?”

he grinned. that shit-eating grin you hated so damn much appeared all across his face. “c’mon pretty, tell her the truth. tell her how good i’m fucking you, how good you’re taking my cock, hm?” he growled into your ear, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine. the sound was intoxicating, clouding your thoughts and turning your mind into mush.

your throbbing walls clenched around him subconsciously, his head rocking back in reaction. “he’s… he’s here with me, h-helping me like he said he would.”

wooyoung seemed utterly satisfied by your answer, his grin only spreading wider. “that’s my wife. so beautiful.”

“perfect then! i’ll see you in a bit then.” after those words, no other sound was heard — other than the wet clapping of your flesh against his hips.

“‘s she gone?” your half-lidded eyes stared down at your husband, who was hugging you by the waist, face deeply buried in your bobbing, soft tits. your hands flew to the back of his head, cupping his neck whilst caressing his raven hair fondly. at your words, his head lifted, and took a glance at your divine expression.

“baby, i didn’t care, not even a second, if she was hearing or not.” his intoxicating, dark irises sent love letters to yours, utterly drunk in love. “i jus’ wanna cum inside your sweet pussy.”

skillful fingers crept to your hardened, overstimulated nipples and all the way down where your bodies collided, positioning right on your clit. his left hand stroked your firm nipple and played with one breast, letting wooyoung’s tongue take care of the other whilst his right hand shifted rapidly over your bundle of nerves.

he fell in love with you again as he saw your back arching into a perfect crescent moon. “good girl.” your loud whines and moans only encouraged him to keep going. “so responsive to me.” he exhaled breathlessly. “fuck, are you about to cum, baby?”

“y-yeah, fuck— woo, i-i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fucking cum” you yelped as your bounces became sloppier, more desperate and more reckless. wooyoung motivated you by whispering sweet things and heart-melting praises right into your ear.

“cum, baby. cum for me, milk me dry.” and with one last bounce, you sprayed your juices all over him, soaking his pants and white shirt even more.

exasperated grunts and exhales left your husband’s mouth at the sensation of your folds clamping down on him — you definitely understood the assignment of milking him dry. ‘cause your pussy received the hot ropes of cum that his dick spurted out with great pleasure, sucking the life out of his poor, now softened length.

you crumbled down on him, your weakened core landing on top of him with his dick still inside you. your head found home in the crook of his neck as his hand reached to your back, wrapping your waist safely whilst the other provided soothing ministrations to your face. with your last ounce of strength, you pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, an even warming sensation drowning the both of you.

“fuck” was all you could mutter. “how’re we going to get back there, they’re waiting for us.”

wooyoung hummed thoughtfully, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and brushing against your skin. “we could pretend we fell asleep. with that, they shouldn’t suspect a thing.”

“hey that’s actually a great id—“

the door creaked open and your bodies jerked softly. the both of you knew exactly what to do, so your eyes flew shut. wooyoung even started snoring quietly to add a spec of realism to the scene.

the sound of your mothers’ voice echoed through your ears. “she said wooyoung was helping… her” wooyoung’s mom immediately lowered her voice as she took in the scene. an almost soundless aww escaped your mom’s lips.

“well sure he was helping her.” your mother sighed at the wholesome moment she had the luck of appreciating.

“i think he was massaging her. ‘cause when i knocked on the door, i could hear like— muffled sounds, that seemed like moans.” she stated, and you froze in place — well, not like you could move an inch. “at first i was confused, but then she clarified that wooyoung-ah was helping her “like he said he would”” she remarked your words as if she had studied them.

“oh i see.” your mother spoke. “i think we should let them sleep. my poor yn had a long day.”

and with that, the door shut closed with a soft click.

wooyoung giggled under the covers as your face burned from the embarrassment.

“massaging? well, that’s a way to put it.”

“wooyoung, babe, as much as i love you, please shut the fuck up.”

he laughed wholeheartedly, a gut-wrenching sound that never fails to make you smile. “you embarrassed, my love?”

you slapped your open palm against his exposed chest as you whined. “stoppp.”

his small, soft giggle buzzed inside your eardrums before he left on the top of your head a kiss full of fondness and affection. “cutie.”

| masterlist

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