#just like… the weight of it on your tongue???

[fushitoru]

i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!

a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe

general masterlist

SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!

“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”

He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”

You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.

Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”

You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”

“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—

Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”

Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 

“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.

“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.

Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.

“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 

“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)

“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.

"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"

He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.

"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."

You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."

"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 

He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!

You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"

"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”

The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 

Which is empty.

"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."

"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.

As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 

"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze his pussy, Choso groaning as a result.

"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"

"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.

"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.

GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!

He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…

You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 

However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?

"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...

You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.

And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 

But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."

Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"

"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.

"That feel good?"

You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."

The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."

His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.

The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”

You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."

“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 

“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 

“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)

“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 

For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”

You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 

But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 

“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”

You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.

“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”

At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”

Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”

“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”

Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 

You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE)

Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.

And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.

Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.

The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.

Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.

You almost drench your panties.

His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.

The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.

When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.

“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”

Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.

“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.

The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.

With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.

You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”

You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”

He did not like that very much.

Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”

The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!

You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.

These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.

But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.

Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.

The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”

“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”

Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”

“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”

One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”

You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”

a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭

comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 17

masterlist

"i’m alisa. i was kuroo’s partner for his project."

you freeze. this is her. the girl from the date. your heart sinks as you picture them together, imagining all the worst possibilities.

did he leave his phone? why was she the one who picked up the call? is he still there? your mind begins to spiral, creating scenarios you can't control, each more painful than the last.

"oh," you manage to say, struggling to keep your voice steady. your throat feels tight, and your words come out slower than usual. "can i ask for kuroo?"

"uh, actually, kuroo left his phone here with me," she replies, "it’s a good thing you called - i couldn't open his phone on my own because it's password protected. i was thinking how to get it back to him. im at my place right now."

her place. your thoughts race, filling in the blanks with every worst-case scenario.

what does this mean? what the hell is happening? and what happened before this? and how could kuroo possibly accidentally leave his phone with her? the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to breathe.

"i can let his friends know," you force out, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "they can come get it from you."

alisa agrees without hesitation, without ending the call, you quickly message the others, your fingers trembling slightly as you type.

after alisa says yes to the arrangement, you both settle to the conclusion that she'll call you back when she's arrived at the campus lobby where bo would be meeting her.

you sit in silence after the call ends, staring at your phone, thoughts swirling in your head. the quiet of your room seems louder now, every second stretching longer than it should.

where is kuroo right now? since she picked up the call at her place, was kuroo there before he left his phone? if they did, what did they do? does this mean he was that interested in her?

you try to shake off the uneasy thoughts, but they linger. you tell yourself not to jump to conclusions, but that’s easier said than done. your mind can’t help but imagine things of what might’ve happened after their date. it’s a battle between rationality and your emotions, and right now, the latter is winning.

then, your phone vibrates, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. kuroo's name appear on the caller id, and you assume it's alisa calling back, just as she promised.

“hello?” you answer, your voice a bit shaky but still composed.

“hey, i’m in the campus lobby,” alisa says. “bokuto isn’t here yet, but i’m sure he’ll be along soon.”

“thanks for letting me know.”

the silence stretches for a moment. it feels awkward, hanging between the two of you, and you can’t help but feel like you should say something - anything - to fill the void.

you fidget with your fingers, unsure of what to talk about. after all, you barely know this girl, and under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.

alisa breaks the silence first. “so... are you and kuroo close?”

her question catches you off guard. “uh, yeah, i guess you could say that. we’ve known each other for a while.”

“that’s nice!" alisa replies, her tone friendly. “he’s been super focused on this project. it’s kept him really busy, huh?”

you nod again, though the weight of her words makes your chest feel tight. “yeah, he’s been juggling a lot.”

the conversation stalls again, leaving you with your thoughts. you’ve known kuroo’s been busy, but hearing it from her, someone who's been spending that time with him, feels like a punch in the gut. you hesitate before asking, “where is he, by the way?”

“oh, he didn’t say,” alisa responds casually. “he just told me he had to go and left. i noticed his phone when he was gone already, and i was going to chase after him but it was too late...”

you thought nothing suspicious about her answer, but nothing that assured you that nothing happened between them. the quiet between you both stretches again, heavy and uncomfortable, and you find yourself scrambling for something else - anything - to fill the silence.

“how’s the project been for you guys?” you ask, trying to make small talk.

“oh, it went really well!” she says brightly. “we worked hard, but it all paid off. i think kuroo was really happy with how it turned out.”

you try to smile at her words, but your curiosity is eating away at you. you feel the urge to ask more, even though a part of you is scared of what the answers might be.

your thoughts drift back to earlier, to the idea of them spending time together after their date, and your stomach knots with unease. but you have to know, even if the answer hurts.

desperate to distract yourself from the silence and your spiraling thoughts, you finally blurt out, “so... did you guys have a good time?”

it feels like a casual question, but the weight behind it is unmistakable to you.

alisa chuckles softly, "oh, it was nice. he’s really sweet, isn’t he?"

you force a smile, even though she can’t see it. the words feel like a punch to the gut, as if someone else is confirming how amazing kuroo is. "yeah, he is."

there’s a brief pause, and the silence returns uncomfortably. your mind is racing as you struggle to keep the conversation going.

"i’m glad you were with him while he was so busy. as i said earlier, he seems to take on a lot by himself." you say, trying to fill the void, but the words come out weaker than you intended.

"he really does," alisa agrees, her voice light, as if she’s completely unaware of the storm raging inside you. "we ended up spending a lot of time together because of it. it’s been fun. and he really knows how to make you feel at ease, doesn’t he?"

the words twist in your gut, and you have to bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound of distress. you know exactly what she means. you’ve felt it too; the way kuroo can make you feel seen and heard.

and now, to hear someone else describe it, to know that she experienced it too, feels like a betrayal, even though you know it’s not.

"yeah," you manage to say. "he’s always been good at that."

the conversation drags on, each passing moment feeling like a slow unraveling of everything you thought you knew. your heart sinks deeper, weighed down by the uncertainty, the fear that maybe you’re too late. the realization that someone else has shared in those moments with him, that she knows things about him you might never know, is almost too much to bear.

"i’m happy you guys enjoyed your date," you say, trying to sound normal, but there’s a slight tremor in your voice.

alisa laughs again, this time with more amusement. "he told you it was a date too, huh?"

you blink, caught off guard by her response. "wasn’t it?"

"no, not really," alisa explains, her tone light as if it’s no big deal. "i just asked him out to coffee because of the success of our project, nothing more. he thought it was a date until he thanked me and mentioned it. so i cleared things up."

you don’t know what to say, the relief washing over you in waves, but mingling with confusion. before you can ask what happened after, alisa interrupts.

"oh, bokuto’s here," she says, her tone signaling the end of the conversation. "i’ll give him the phone. thanks a lot,"

"okay," you reply, still dazed, your mind racing with all the things you didn’t get to say or ask. bo takes the phone and tells you everything’s good, but his words barely register. you nod, barely listening, too caught up in your own thoughts.

you’re left with a thousand questions, but no answers. you want to know more, to ask her what happened next, but you guess you won’t get to know anymore.

did they talk about you? was kuroo relieved when she clarified it wasn’t a date, or was he disappointed? the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you with nothing but doubts.

all of a sudden, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. your heart jumps into your throat. you hesitate, then get up to answer it. you bid bo goodbye on the other line and end the call as you approach closer.

maybe it was one of your roommates checking up on your or asking for an update about what has happened. you wondered who it might be as you opened the door.

and there he was.

kuroo, breathless and panting, his hair slightly disheveled as if he ran the whole way. his eyes lock onto yours, wide with urgency.

"kuroo," you begin, confused. "what are you doing-"

"i want you, y/n."

notes

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

next signal will be LOADED also bc we will see kuroo's pov !!

idk if this was a long update or not (than usual) but yeah

i had to edit this a lot of times bc i had to make sure that everything would be laid out well

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I LITERALLY THOUGHT OF YOUR JASON WHEN I SAW THIS TIK TOK: it was someone getting emotional because of their s/o reconnect with hobbies they did during their childhood.

and i just thought of jason presenting reader with baked treats, unknowingly rambling about the treats him and alfred made to give to bruce and kids of crime alley.

and reader just tearing up or (if like me) full on crying and jason holds your hands with his mitten hands, wondering if you burnt yourself from eating them too quick. only for reader to be emotional over his hobbies before he died :(

Cookie Sheets

Ah!! Wait, I LOVE this. Here's a little (mostly) fluffy ramble that spiraled because self-control and Jason Todd do not go together for me. ~500 words

You didn't think anything of it, when Jason picked up baking ingredients during your weekly grocery shopping trip.

You were mildly curious, when he pulled out a worn, handwritten page from his pocket and started to move around the kitchen, pulling bowls and pans out of the cupboards.

You were engaged, watching silently from where you're sat, when the smell of baked goods started to fill your apartment.

He was obviously focused, eyebrows knitted together, and lower lip pulled between his teeth. You really, really wanna listen to the cliché 'kiss the cook' apron he's wearing, but something about the intent look in his eyes tells you this is important.

So you wait, content to study him as he moves fluidly around the kitchen. Your bright grin matches the giddy expression on his face when the oven timer goes off.

It's when he's finally, carefully moving each cookie off the tray to cool when he starts to talk, "Alfred and I used to bake together all the time."

You straighten out immediately, "Yeah?"

He hums in acknowledgment, "Yeah. For everyone, really. Brownies that B took into the office for his meetings. Cakes for Dick to take back to the Titans. Bags of cookies for the kids on the streets. Pies for the shelters in Park Row."

"Oh," You say softly, and the weight of what he's doing settles on your shoulders. It makes your throat tighten, in grief of what was taken from him and in pride that he's rekindling that part of his life.

You almost want to cry over the fact that he's really always been so good. You practically jump out of your seat, moving to pluck a cookie off the counter.

"Doll," Jason practically cries out, voice pitching. He goes to snatch the treat from your hand, "It's still hot!"

You bite into the cookie instead, "It's delicious."

His eyes soften a little, but he still fixes you with a disbelieving gaze, lifting your hand to inspect it for burns, "They weren't going anywhere, you know."

"We can make more, if you want. Take them down to the soup kitchen," You suggest, a little sheepish as he presses a kiss to your fingertips.

Jason smiles at you, and you know you've said the right thing, "I'd like that." His eyes dart back to the cookies for a moment, "Were they really good? It's been a while since I, uh, made them."

You grab another cookie and grin, biting into it even under his disapproving glare. This time, you listen to the apron and plant a kiss on his cheek, "They're good. Really good."

He kisses your forehead in return and tentatively picks up a cookie, turning it over and inspecting his work. He takes a bite, like he's braced for it to be nothing like he remembers. But his body relaxes instead, "Yeah, doll, they are."

You spoil yourself and chase his lips, curious to see if his baking tastes just as good on his tongue. (It does)

[dixons-sunshine]

If you’re taking requests: I saw an edit on TikTok of Daryl and Merle. It was Merle hitting on the reader and it uses the “would you look at the time, I’ve gotta get home and sleep with your brother” audio, I was wondering if you could do a fic, even a short one, with that kinda vibe / theme.

If your request aren’t open, just stopping by to say I love your page ❤️

The Great Escape | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Merle Dixon made no secret of his interest in you, making you aware of that with his vulgar comments. However, you had no interest in him, and he just couldn’t seem to accept that. Thankfully, Daryl was there to help you out, even if your accidental slip of the tongue could have potentially pissed the older Dixon off.

Genre: I don’t really know.

Era: Pre Apocalypse.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive innuendos towards the end.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: I love that sound on TikTok. It’s hilarious to me. I hope this is an okay attempt at that sort of vibe! This was written in under an hour so this could potentially not be that great. And thank you so much, my love 💜.

The need to escape increased with each second that ticked on the metaphorical clock. You continuously shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you prayed to whatever higher entity was listening that you could flee from the awkward predicament you were unwillingly partaking in. You kept checking the time on your watch, wishing that the small metal object that rested snuggly around your wrist could help you vanish from the comments Merle Dixon was making towards you.

It was no secret to the man in front of you that none of the women in the bar you worked at liked him. Each night, like clockwork, the Dixon brothers rolled into the bar, and as soon as the older one even lays an eye on one of the female bartenders, vulgar comments gets spewed left and right. And at that particular moment in time, you were the target of Merle’s objectification.

“M’tellin’ ya, girl. I ain’t never seen anyone with an ass that bounces like yers. S’enough to make any man hungry to see more,” Merle drunkenly slurred on, leisurely sipping on his beer as he leaned against the counter top. If he leaned any closer, he would be able to peer down your shirt, and that knowledge made you uncomfortable.

“Um... Thank you?” you ‘thanked’ him, your eyes nervously darting around as you hoped to lock eyes with those familiar cerulean ones you had grown to love looking at. Daryl Dixon had been your saviour from Merle countless times before, and you hoped to be able to have his help again. And you would be able to see that beautiful smile of his when he inevitably walks you to your car, so that was a nice plus.

“Yer welcome, sweet cheeks,” Merle laughed, doing what you had feared and leaned closer. However, you managed to back up just in time, preventing him from seeing what you didn’t want him to. You doubted that the man had intentionally wanted to look down your shirt, though, and your suspicions were proven correct when he had reached for the bowl of Doritos you kept behind the counter. Merle Dixon could be a nasty guy, but even he knew there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed with permission.

“Tell you what,” Merle began, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you, snapping you from your thoughts. “How ‘bout the two’a us ditch this joint and find a nice motel for the night? I promise ya won’t regret it.”

Your eyes widened at his innuendo. In a last ditch effort to free yourself from his advances, you looked around again to see if you could find Daryl. Thankfully, by some stroke of luck, you managed to find his eyes.

His eyes scanned over your face, and he could instantly read the distress on your features. His eyes darted to Merle, and then back to you, and he instantly realized what you meant. “Dinner?” he mouthed to you, like he always did whenever you needed to escape. Parking at the bar was practically nonexistent, so you always parked your car by this small diner down the street. More often than not, he’d buy you both a burger and fries, saving you the need to make dinner at two in the morning.

With one last glance at your watch, you noticed your shift had ended, just in time, too. “Um... I’m sorry. I can’t,” you told him, grabbing your bag from the floor and slinging it over your shoulder. Then, without even fully realizing what you said next, you began to walk away. “I’ve gotta go and sleep with your brother.”

Eat. You had fully intended to say eat. However, the damage was already done, and you had to stick with it. You scrambled to get away from Merle’s piercing glare, aware of the fact that you had just royally pissed him off.

“Yer gon’ fuckin’ what?!” he bellowed loudly. A few heads turned to look at the commotion, but you had already started making yourself scarce.

You practically sprinted towards Daryl, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you. You missed the way his cheeks flushed bright red at the feeling of your hand in his, too occupied with getting out of that place. Once outside, you let go of Daryl’s hand, though your pace didn’t falter.

Daryl jogged a few steps to fall into pace with you, and only then did he notice the embarrassed look on your face. “What’s wrong? What’d Merle do?”

You shook your head. “Nothing out of the usual. I’m fine.” You turned your head to look at Daryl, a sheepish smile on your face. “Although Merle might be pissed at you when you get home tonight?”

Daryl cocked an eyebrow at that. “Why? What’d I do?”

“It’s not anything you did. It’s what he thinks you did.” With a heavy sigh, you continued. “I might have accidentally told him I was gonna go sleep with you instead of eat...”

Daryl’s eyes widened at your statement, his heart beginning to gallop in his chest. However, he forced himself to appear nonchalant. He scoffed and turned his head away, thanking the night sky for its particular darkness that night, because it meant you wouldn’t be able to see how his cheeks burned with a heat that outranked that of the sun.

“Well, would ya look at that?” he began, his tone adapting a more playful one, both in an attempt to make you feel better and to lessen his own embarrassment. “Looks like Merle ain’t got nothin’ on me after all. I managed to snag a good-lookin’ one, too. M’damn lucky.”

You laughed at him, your pace slowing down when you noticed the diner coming into view. “Be sure to sing my praise to your brother. Let him know what he can’t have. Make him really jealous.” In a surge of confidence, you turned to him with a mischievous smile. “I’ve been told my head game is really good. Be sure to expand on that.”

“Christ almighty, girl,” he muttered to himself, his head ducking as a way to shield his blazing cheeks, and the curiosity in his eyes at your statement. Just how good was good? “Ya sure know how to make a man curious.”

You giggled softly at him. Cleverly sensing that any more teasing would have the man in front of you combusting from sheer embarrassment, you decided to change the topic. “How about I buy dinner tonight? It’s the least I can do to make up for the awkwardness you’re gonna experience once you get home.”

“More like a good yellin’ at,” Daryl told you, but he shrugged his shoulders and sent you a small, lopsided smile. “But sure.”

With that, the two of you walked into the diner. However, instead of getting takeout like you usually would, the two of you opted to take a seat in one of the booths, basking in the privacy that the late hour provided you. The two of you shared your meals over faint laughter, shared jokes, and even some flirting here and there, which was a stark difference from Daryl’s usually shy demeanour.

Daryl ended up going home with you, and he may or may not have gotten to expand on his curiosity at your earlier comment.

[eupheme]

Lazy morning bj with Wade x Reader x Logan drabble request?

ooooh yes, thank you so much anon! I’ve loved thinking about this!! 💖

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

550 words | soft morning, double oral sex & swallowing

You always liked the way it felt when both sets of their eyes were on you.

The heavy weight of it. Reverent, in the way it drags across your skin. Something reserved only for you.

It’s early - limbs still sleepy from a late night together. The sun just starting to streak in, golden where it stretches across the bed.

A careful shift, as you settle against spread thighs - straddling where they press together. Fingers already curled into the sheets, and you’ve only just begun.

Letting spit pool on your tongue. Letting it drip down onto Logan’s cock. Your hand wrapping into a fist, as your lips close around Wade’s. The sounds they make layer together - hissed groans and soft gasps.

Taking him deep, as you’ve learned to. The tight swallow of your throat, before you lift - letting your tongue sweep across velvet-soft skin.

Switching, a moment later. A slow back-and-forth, the bob of your head in tandem with the grip of your fist. Skin left spit-slick, as chests heave - breath growing short.

If you could fit them both in your mouth at the same time, you would. Content to let Wade run his, the rasp of his early-morning voice combined with the low sighs pulled from Logan.

How their hips start to tilt towards each other, leaving you less space to have to move. Fingers reaching to cup your head, angle your face.

The murmuring becomes more insistent. A low “feels so fucking good, goddamn HYLA GST Swarovski Edition got nothing on you, baby” - that ends on a choked moan.

Silencing the Mouth with the sweet suck of your own. His fingers twining with yours as your eyes flick up to watch.

Looking for the sharp pull of his brow. The bunching of his muscles in his belly, strung tight until he snaps with a loud moan.

Your victory floods your tongue.

Logan finishes after. Edging himself with a spit-slick fist. Brow furrowed as he watches you swallow - your tongue peeking out after, a little wink sent their way.

A rough sound when you move, nuzzling against his hip. The pace of his hand stuttering, when your tongue drags across his sack.

Coming against your lips with a groan, the second they close around him.

Won’t admit that he likes the anticipation. How messy you are, when he’s spilling second in your pussy, wet and tight and warm.

Knowing that you’ll taste like both of them, when he kisses you.

Warmth pools low in your belly, at the sounds he makes. The soft moan only the two of you get to hear. Drawn out and almost desperate, as he drives himself just a little deeper into your mouth.

Chasing the warmth, as you suck. The salt that seeps across your tongue - swallowing again. Fingers still wrapped around his base - holding his cock steady, as your tongue laps at the slit.

Getting every drop.

You like taking care of your boys.

It’s only fair, after all, with how thoroughly they ruined you the night between. That subtle twinge still lingering between slick thighs.

The way they soften now - boneless. Heaving chests and leaden limbs as you grin, pleased.

It’s only a brief reprieve, this snapshot in time. Because if you know one thing for sure…

It’s that your morning is only just beginning.

thanks so much for sending this in!! 💖

[emmcfrxst]

omg old man!logan with mom!reader and laura has me in TEARSSSSS i love them so much

he would never admit it because he's too proud but does get a little jealous when all your attention is on laura. it's nothing serious obv (who tf would be jealous of their child😭) but he is left with with a heightened sense of need for you and your touch. so when night time finally comes around, he's super happy to get you all to himself and just shower you with the love that laura showered you with during the day <33

(the concept of reader being both logan's and laura's favorite person to ever exist is so sweet aaahhhhh)

i’ve said this before i believe but something about laura really brings out logan’s inner child; he’s a lot more mischievous when she’s around, allowing himself to act like a kid and have fun— he’s provoking her on purpose (all in good fun, obviously! he wouldn’t say anything that could actually hurt her feelings, at least not once he’s gotten used to interacting with a child again, he’s accidentally hurt her feelings before by being a little too brash, but that was before he decided to make conscious efforts to let her in) and bickering with her any chance he gets, a grin on his face when she takes the bait and argues back (he’s not gonna lie, he’s pretty proud of just how vivacious she is, she does remind him of himself but he won’t admit that out loud) because he’s really never felt quite as youthful when he’s around her. they’re quite entertaining to watch honestly, because he absolutely will stick his tongue out back at her if she does it, and he will chase her around the house in playful anger if she insults him. he also likes to ruffle her hair when walking past her because she always lets out the most offended little yell, jumping on his back in retaliation and he walks around the house with her hanging off of him like a koala, despite the ache/discomfort the added weight brings him. he’s also the one who started using the nickname “monkey” for her, partly due to her most prized possession: a plushie you gave her (which i talked about here if you wanna read <3) and partly because she loves to climb pretty much everything she sees; including trees, doorframes, random furniture, fences and of course her daddy. anyways yes, since she brings out the youthful side of him he does allow himself to fight her for your attention, which quickly turns into a competition (honestly pretty much anything turns into a competition when it comes to these two, it’s kind of their love language) and logan isn’t afraid to play dirty despite the fact that laura is like 11— he will use his strength to untangle her from you, playfully throwing her on the couch away from you and grinning at her while wrapping his own arms around you, mouthing “my turn now” to her, making her look at him with the most offended expression ever seen on a human being. there’s never a boring moment with them, and you’re constantly showered in both attention and affection <3

[sundew199]

Mornings

a/n: I'm at work and going insane, send help

tags: reiner x f!reader, oral sex(f!recieving), fingering

I cannot stop thinking about Reiner eating you out under the covers, fucking burying his face in your pussy and making you shake and cry. And right after he wakes in the morning too.

He'll turn over and grind up against you and softly kiss up and down your neck, asking you if you slept good, while letting his hands grope and grab at your tits. You'd still be a little groggy from just waking up and barely notice him climbing over you and fitting himself down between your legs, kissing up your inner thigh and nipping with his teeth.

You'd whine when he'd playfully kiss your clit softly, flick the tip of his tongue over it once and proceeding to part your slick folds with his thumb. Reiner would start slow, work his way into eating you out, until fully pressing his mouth to your slit and his nose bumping and nudging your clit.

He'd groan approvingly as you tug on his hair, push his face into your needy pussy, satisfied with the eagerness on your end. He loves your cunt and loves eating you out, it's like a fucking pass time for him.

All you'd feel is his plush lips sucking and pulling at your flesh, slurping up the arousal leaking from between your legs and his eyes looking up at you so hungrily that you're afraid he's about to quite literally devour you. You're so light weight and not even in this reality by the time he moved to sucking on your clit, teasing your entrance with his middle finger, already cumming once and approaching another.

"One more, please, just one more doll." He'd speak into your flesh, so muffled as he can't let go to properly request. You'd be arched on the bed, heel of your feet digging into his shoulder blades under the covers with tears rolling down your cheeks. Reiner is fucking insatiable when it comes to your pussy.

"Reiner, please I don't know it I can-"

Sentence cut off by the force of your body reaching your peak and cumming in his mouth a second time, all of your muscles contracting and releasing from the tension letting loose, but still throbbing as he softens his sucks and settle for gently kissing the sensitive bud.

"Always so good for me." Now sitting up and pushing two fingers inside, all because he's an over achiever and wants you in this bed with him all day, limp and motionless from his sinful acts.

Two thick fingers flutter and pump out of your entrance, his tongue swirling in time on your clit and a smirk so evil curling into his lips. He loves you like this, craves it, and worships you when he gets you to this point.

Reiner is man of knowing what he wants, and this, this gets him harder than anything else. And when you finally cum for a third time, he's groaning and thinking about sinking his painfully hard cock right in and fucking you till you're leaking nothing but his cum.

[ssweetleaf]

set phasers to stun.

summary: joel wants you to sit on his face— you think you’re far too heavy for something like that.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, face sitting/cunnilingus, dom!joel, i wrote this with an age gap in mind, but it isn’t really specified so make it up girlies, a bit of spanking, slight insecure!reader, pet names (honey, girlie, baby, babygirl, sunshine) a tad of a daddy kink (i’m sorry, it’s me, what do you expect?)

a/n: sorry i’ve been gone again, i’m back in my pedro pascal phase and this just came out of nowhere lol. let me know what you think. dividers credit goes to @saradika-graphics <33

“Quit your whinin’ and sit the fuck down.”

You were hovering over Joel’s face, thighs twitching and burning from their position, careful not to bump any part of yourself into him— too scared to fully sit yourself upon his face like he had so desperately asked for earlier in the day.

“Joel— m’too heavy,” you muttered, cheeks heating, shifting your weight from knee to knee and hands on the headboard, knuckles whitening from your firm grip.

He lifted a big palm against the cheek of your ass in a sharp, searing slap, quelling your whirring thoughts for just a moment, the burn of his hand print thick and heavy upon the globe of your ass.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled, teeth clenched, eyes boring into yours from underneath you and you would’ve frowned at the sight of the protruding pudge of your belly when you looked down, but the constant smoothing of his callused hands against the soft rolls and swells of your body had you stifling it.

“Now listen here, honey,” he huffed, shifting his face to the side to press a few spongy kisses to the thickness of your thighs. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.”

Joel was firm with his words, the low timbre shooting throughout your core and flooding your folds with a surge of arousal.

“Y’gonna take a seat, and y’gonna ride my fuckin’ face till I say you can stop, y’hear?”

“Joel, I—Ow!”

Another spank, on the other cheek this time, but just as hard, the print blooming in the shape of his calluses and the ring on his finger.

“Girlie.” The fond pet name was now a word of warning, almost daring you to disobey him. “Sit, now.”

You swallowed thickly, and with a shaky breath you lowered yourself down, easing onto his handsome face, the broad slope of his nose prominent against your slit, and you gasped at his deep inhale, breathing your scent deep into his lungs, almost savouring it before nudging your clit with the tip of his nose.

Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close once he mouthed a kiss to your pussy lips, teasingly sucking your folds into his eager mouth, careful to avoid your poor, puffy clit and keep you on edge.

“Look at this pretty cunt, hm?” he cooed, gruff and thick, muffled slightly from between your thighs and beneath your soft belly. “She’s been beggin’ for this, baby and you’ve been keeping her from me.”

His tongue peeked out from between his lips, swiping a long, fat stripe from your slick, fluttering hole, to the engorged jewel of your clit.

“Oh!” You whined, threading your fingers through his thick curls, tugging slightly once his lips enveloped your pearl, suckling it into his mouth, humming into your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your cunt and you moaned out at the feeling. “Joel, fuck.”

He pulled back only slightly, brow raised and eyes dark and glistening— a big palm squeezed at the fat of your ass. A little warning.

“Language.” he clicked his tongue, turning to nuzzle into the thickness of your thigh, biting into it with dull molars and sharp canines, urging another wave of slick to surge your poor cunt.

“S-sorry!” You squeaked out, nails scratching against his scalp the way he liked as a little apology. “Keep going, please.”

You could feel his smirk against your flesh, tongue swiping at the marks he bit and sucked into the sensitive skin of your thighs.

“There she is,” he hummed, “now ya beggin’ for it, aren’t ya, baby? Knew you’d come around some time.”

Joel dove back into your cunt, lapping crudely at your hole, picking up silver strings of arousal on his tongue before lolling it over your peaked clit— smacking kisses to it, practically making out with your poor pussy whilst humming happily into your heat.

“Just needed some persuadin’, huh, sunshine?” he spoke into your pussy, voice muffled and barely legible through your hazy brain. “Just needed your ol’ man to eat this pretty pussy from down here, didn’t ya, babygirl?”

You cried out, nodding profusely at his filthy words and personification of your cunt, tears ebbing at your waterline and slowly easing over.

“Been havin’ so much trouble with my damn back— just layin’ here while you ride my face is so much better, sugar.”

Knowing your man wasn’t in pain, that his usual achy back and knees were quelled and sated by his current position, instead of the place he so often took between your legs with a hunched back and sore knees, had you relaxing somewhat.

‘Makin’ y’daddy a happy man, baby,” he groaned, fisting at the fat of your hips, leaving you tight and secure against his face. “fuckin’ dripping down my throat.”

You could feel the tightening in your belly, coiling throughout your insides, warming you up and leaving you panting, fisting at any part of him you could find.

“J-Joel,” you panted, chest heaving up and down, up and down, nails in his scalp, in his shoulder blades, even reaching behind you at his thighs. “so close.”

Your speech was clipped, lips stuttering and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah ah,” he shook his head, lips still suckling at your clit after every other word. “None of that, you ask for daddy’s permission— you know what to do.”

You whined again, long and drawn out, bucking your hips and huffing out— there was a warmth upon your cheeks that blossomed, creeping down your neck and teasing the tips of your ears, all shy now when asking your man to cum.

“Please, Joel,” you sighed out, thighs squeezing at his ears, clamping him tight underneath you. “can I cum? Pretty please?”

“Please, what?” He huffed, gruff and quick, tongue lolling and rolling over your spit-slick clit before thrusting the pink muscle into your quivering hole. “Ain’t got all day, hon.”

“Daddy— please, daddy! Need’a cum.”

“Atta girl, such nice manners— taught you good, baby girl. Cum f’me.”

[lilacgaby]

title: family matters

pairing(s): husband!toji x reader, son!megumi x reader

summary: megumi wakes up with a nightmare, toji doesn't want to move, so he solves his own problem.

your face was smushed up against toji's chest as you slept deeply. your arm slung around his waist and your legs tangled in his as you breathed him in.

he was awake though, playing with your hair as he let the sounds of your muffled sighs against his chest and the white noise of the fan slowly drift him to sleep...

until the sound of the door creaking made him jump slightly, quickly moving to soothe you in case he startled you.

megumi shuffled in, rubbing his eyes as he walked to the corner of the bed. "dad?"

toji sighed as he layed his head over to look at him, you usually handled this kind of stuff since he felt awkward. "what is it kid?"

"i'm scared." megumi admitted, his voice sounding choked like he'd already been crying.

"y' all right. we're right here 'gumi, so there's nothing to worry about." toji comforted, having his full attention on megumi. he reached his hand out to hold his shoulder and shook it.

"nothing will happen to you or your mom as long as im here. got it?"

megumi sniffled and shook his head in a nod. "'kay.. but can you come tuck me in?" he asked, grabbing toji's arm in a pulling motion.

"no way kid. your mom is sleeping right on top of me, and 'm not moving 'til she wakes."

"dadd." he whined, tugging his arm with all his might to try and get him to move. "you have to, it's what mom does!"

he knew it well, how you'd immediately get out of bed any night he came to lay in his and soothe him to sleep, most nights he'd wake up alone and find you holding megumi as you slept in his bed.

"well i'm not your mother. you're a big kid already, you can do it yourself."

"but i want you to do ittt." he started to shake his arm, which was jostling you in return.

"hey stop it kid, ya wanna wake your mom up?"

"nooo. hurry up!" he said, finally letting go and stomping his feet.

"i'm not moving kid, so tough luck."

megumi pouted and decided to..

flip him over. as he started shoving toji over with all his might, you obviously fell under him first. with toji's weight completely on you, you woke up disoriented and confused.

megumi, now with a bunch of room for himself, jumped in and held your arm to his chest, smiling victoriously.

"what-- what's going on?"

"this brat is so stubborn, he's just like you. go back to sleep."

"huh..?" you were being lifted up by toji and so was megumi. he settled you in the middle with him and megumi at your sides.

"good night. don't say i don't love you brat."

you fell asleep confused but comfortable, and megumi only stuck his tongue out at toji before going back to sleep with you.

toji was now playing with your hair while watching over the two of you, the sight of your chests rising and falling with every breath you took comforting him.

he hung his arm around you, holding your hand. laying his head on yours, he placed a hand on megumi's hair, ruffling it slightly.

his heart felt warm as he fell asleep, dreaming of you. oh and his son was there too.

he woke up to the sounds of rustling as megumi woke up, early as possible. he started to tap on your shoulder until toji moved his hand away from you groggily.

"what?"

"i'm hungry."

"for crying out loud kid, no!"

...

he got up to make pancakes for you three, extra whipped cream for megumi as he handed them out.

megumi was sat in your lap happily munching away as you paired yours with a cup of coffee, still half asleep.

toji ruffled megumi's hair, making him let out a small "hey!" as he moved over to kiss you, making megumi scrunch up his face.

toji moved to sit beside you at the counter, his hand supporting his head as he looked over at you two.

"you're a headache y'know that?"

"don't be mean to mom." megumi said, his mouth full.

"i wasn't talking about her, kid!

[yandere-yearnings]

Weird thought rant ‼️

I always see in smuts that the MC gets a belly bulge and all that but okay, hear me out, how about MALE belly bulge? I have no idea if that’s possible due to male anatomy but I just thought that would be something

Join the cause and support Male belly bulge 😸

dw nonnie, i'm alr w/ you😌✨ (+ for reference it is possible!!)

anyway, this, for vio bc i feel like it'd be more prominent on him than my other ocs. also as a little smth for all the vio fuckers who continue to dominate the inbox🥰

NSFW under the cut!

“Shit.” Gasping breaths. Intakes hitched harder and harder. “Fuck, please. Please, I’m sorr-”

Vio's words never quite made it out of his mouth, not when your fingers quickly found their place within the wetness oozing from the space between spongey tongue and roof. Teary greens straining to meet your gaze, pleading mercy like what you were doing to him was torture, even though Vio was the one who slammed his ass back to meet your hips each time, without fail. 

“Aren’t you a fucking mess?” The amusement in your voice was palpable, and you knew it got him off, what with the way he keened, forehead pressing to the sheets and hands fisting the fabric as though it could save his life. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard an apology from these pretty lips,” your point was driven home when he gagged, and your spit-slicked digits slipped out just for you to smear it to a shine on them, “best not start now, hm? It might make me wanna take pity on you and then-”

He cried your name, and you watched the muscles in his back ripple as he convulsed. Sweat glistening, mesmerising in the way rain droplets were when they ran races against glass windows, dripping into the divots of sacral dimples you were aching to dig your thumbs into.

“And then who’s gonna fuck you like this, huh?” Your cleaner hand reached out, wrapped around his throat tight enough to choke him, and pulled him up. It drove you deeper into him — had Vio's eyes rolling to the back of his skull, had him clawing at you with almost the same intensity as he moaned. “Fuck you this good,” your hand trailed to his abdomen, where skin stretched thin, “fill you up, make you scream. You know I’m the only one who can do it for you. Only I know who you are, what you deserve. Right, Vio?”

“O-Only you,” Vio rasped, “only you, Y/N. Please.”

“You keep saying that,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his jugular absent-mindedly. His pulse was fluttering, light and so fast in a way you thought suited the image of delicacy he’d crafted for the world. The way his body molded to your shape said otherwise, unbreaking, despite your efforts to do just that. “What are you begging for? What have I not given you?”

“Everything.” Wisps of blue flurried in your vision, and they were all you could see for seconds after Vio tilted his head back on your shoulder. The ocean, in the colour of his eyes. Lapping waves that undulated and moved towards you. “This much isn’t enough.” Seasalt at his nape, on your tastebuds, becoming addictive. “Give it all to me.” Threatening to drown you. “Y/N.”

For a second you were gone, and then his voice, weighted only momentarily, had you snapping back into reality, into motion, into him. “Greedy,” you tittered, index up his Adam’s apple to tap on his chin and push it down, “can’t you see that I already am?”

“Fuck.” Vio's eyes widened, the slightest bit — you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t looking. Your palm smoothed over where his belly bulged, applied a little pressure and watched his pupils blow. It was funny to you that he hadn’t noticed before. “Fuck. Y/N, wait.” Between his legs, Vio's dick twitched, clearly not as spent as either of you had first assumed, not with how it was leaking now. “Wait!”

There are things you’d never know about him; what type of pleasure coursed through his veins on seeing the strain you put on him, if it was a physical fulfillment, if it was solely the feeling, or the thought, being claimed, stretched, ruined. You never wandered about it long — after all, it didn’t matter. In seconds, the ocean overflowed for you. He spilt for you.

Vio lost his mind for you.

[dark-moonlust]

Orc King x Elf Princess PART 2: Throne of Desires

Pairing: orc king x elf reader

Summary: you worship your king’s cock with your mouth and then he returns the favor, tenfold. 😉

Warnings: minors don't interact!!!, 18+!!!, oral (male+female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, loads of cum.

Read PART 1 here!

The throne room was lit by four torches, casting shadows across the walls as you approached your husband, the King of the Orcs. He sat in his huge stone throne, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, his muscled, scarred body exposed in all its glory. He emitted raw power and masculinity, and was watching you with smoldering black eyes. Unlike him, you wore elvish finery; a glimmering night gown, your hair spilling down your back like a waterfall.

“My Queen,” he said, his voice vibrating through you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more, my King. You’ve had many meetings and obligations to fulfill, my husband,” you said as you approached, sinking to your knees between his legs.

He bent down and kissed your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth. “You shouldn’t be kneeling, my love. Stand up and ride me, like the good mate you are.”

You smiled mischievously. “But I want to stay here. Only for today, and worship my hardworking husband.”

Without losing time, your hands reached for his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. His broad chest heaved with desire, his muscles taut. And he was already thick, a bulge straining against his pants, the sheer size of it making your breathing quicken. You cupped the fabric covering his cock which was getting bigger and bigger, and spread kissed over it, feeling the heat of his arousal.

Growled in warning, his hands settled on your shoulders. “No more teasing, my Queen.”

“As you wish, my King.”

Swiftly, you unbuckled his pants and dragged them down, your fingers deftly freeing his aching cock. The thick length sprang up from its confines, throbbing before your eager gaze. His shaft was massive and heavy, the tip leaking beads of pre-cum. Your orc’s breathing grew heavier and constantly growled from deep within his chest as he watched you with hungry eyes.

Mouth watering, you wrapped your fingers around his girth, marveling at its thickness and weight— you couldn’t fully enclose it all in your small palm. His pre-cum glistened in the low light, trickling down his length. You took the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling as if it was your favorite lollipop. The taste of him was a heady mix of salt and musk that made you crave more.

“Good, very good, my Queen,” he let out feral groan as his cock twitched.

Looking up at him, you began to pump his shaft in your palms while giving kitten licks to his leaking head. The more you stroked him, the more essence trickled from the tip. By now he had swelled to full mast, his cock a hard pole as thick as your forearm. His balls were just as swollen, heavy with orc seed and pulsing in your palm.

Desire pooled in your belly as you lowered your head and took him deep into your hot mouth, the sheer size of him stretching your lips wide. Your King’s growls grew deafening, his fingers forking through your hair, guiding you to take more of him into your wet mouth. His hips bucked, and you took him deeper, his cock kissing the back of your throat and causing you to gag. Your tongue swirled around him, head bobbing head up and down to please him.

“You’re so good for me, my Queen,” he rumbled, his voice husky but quivering.

Encouraged by his words, you doubled your efforts, pushing yourself to suck him deeper and harder. Breathing steadily through your nose, you hollowed your cheeks as you took him as deep as you could, your hands stroking the rest of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hold in your hair hardened, his growls turning frantic, his thighs shaking in time with your movements.

“Fuuuuck— ahhh—I’m close,” he panted raggedly.

You didn’t slow down, you went faster to please him. You could feel his cock and balls throbbing, the pulses growing stronger as he neared his climax. With a final, powerful thrust, he filed your mouth and came, spurting load after load of his warm cum in your mouth. The force of his release was too much—it always was— and you worked your tongue, swallowing buckets of his seed.

Your mate pumped seed for seconds and seconds and suddenly he pulled out, a big palm pumping his cock and splattering the last of his seed across your face. Blinking, you stood there and took his marking, your cheeks and lips smeared with his cum, while his eyes looked at you with love and pride.

“Now it’s time to mark my face with your arousal, my Queen,” he drawled, kneeling before you and kissing your cum-stained lips.

Chest still heaving from his release, he lifted you, settling you on his grand throne. It was the highest seat of power and it would soon become the stage for your cries of pleasure. He tugged at the folds of your gown, your breasts spilling from the neckline. He cupped your pert tits, suckling and nipping at your nipples. Squirming, you arched against him, nails digging into his skin.

Dragging away your skirts, he kissed your soft belly, his tongue licking inside your bellybutton. You trembled when he continued to your creamy thighs until stopping at your glinting pussy. He draped your legs over his shoulders, his hands curling around your thighs and immobilizing you.

“Hmm, such pretty pussy,” he drawled, licking his lips. “So soaked for me.”

Callused thumbs opened your outer labia, his tongue inhaling sharply taking in your scent. Then he buried his face between your legs, his textured tongue parting your inner folds and licking long, slow stripes from your entrance to your clit. He devoured your slick as if he was starving, shamelessly eating you out and rubbing his nose against your clit.

The sensations took your breath away, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You began thrashing when you felt the stirrings of your orgasm but you couldn’t move. His hold on you was secure, his fingers digging into your inner thighs as he feasted on you without restraint. Gasping and moaning, you came hard, your hands gripping the arms of the throne. He licked you through your orgasm, casing you to turn frantic, your breasts heaving with each breath you dragged out of your lungs.

He gazed up at you as he worked your tender clit, his eyes dark with lust. “You taste so sweet, my Queen. Hmm, I could feast on you forever.”

“Ahh… my love,” you muttered, oversensitive and in sweet agony.

“Want you to cum again,” he rasped against you cunt. “Want you to mark me with your scent.”

“C..annn—can’t,” you whimpered, fingers burying in his hair and tugging. “Ahh, I can’t take it.”

A thick finger thrust inside you, his eyes blazing with demand. “Yes, you can and you will.”

And with that, he resumed his strokes, this time latching his lips at your clit while thrusting two fingers inside your tight pussy. His shoulders still held you open, and no matter how you begged and wiggled, he kept you there for his devouring. Slick sounds echoed through the throne room, mixed with your moans and his growls.

You lost track of time, writhing and begging for mercy.

But he was determined, kneeling between your legs and drawing one climax after the other from your body.

It was a wonderful and relentless assault on your senses.

When he finally decided to stop, he gave you the strongest climax out of them all, making your vision blur as you rode the last waves of pleasure. Your pussy clenched achingly around his digits, your juices flowing freely as he continued to lap at you, his face coated with your arousal. All you could do was surrender, your body trembling, your lips blabbering his name, your mind and heart belonging to him.

[crushmeeren]

thoughts on the bnha guys grabbing/pulling your hair? it just sounds so hot

keep up the work crush ♥️ everything you touch turns into a masterpiece

Hi anonnie friend! Your comment is so kind and when people send me stuff like this it encourages me to keep writing, I appreciate you more than you know! I hope this fulfills the fantasy. (ˆ ̳ , ̫ , ̳ˆ)

⋆ ft. katsuki, eijirou, shouto⋆ ⋆ﾟ꒰ FEM READER ꒱ ⋆ﾟ

master list link

Katsuki, without a doubt, would pull your hair. He’d be the man to fuck you from behind, ass in the air and face shoved into the mattress. He’d spank the hell out of you when you try to stifle your moans in the sheets. He’d chastise you, playful yet mean until your fingers curl into fists.

Doesn’t matter if your hair is down, in a braid, in a bun, whatever style you have it in, that man is forcefully lacing his fingers through it or wrapping it around his hand and yanking you up until your fingertips are all that support your weight. Your neck would be bent at an awkward angle, scalp burning and tingling but the pain would only electrify the blood in your veins and makes your pussy flutter.

Katsuki would snap his hips even harsher than before until you’re crying out his name with abandon, pure sinful noise crawling out of your throat.

The position would bully his cock into you just right each time and it’d be soon after that you find yourself resisting his pull, trying to escape the overwhelming build of your oncoming orgasm. You’d need anything to hold onto for leverage, but he wouldn’t give even an inch. He’d click his tongue and tug harder, a breathy laugh leaving him as he watches you struggle.

Your breath would get caught in your chest when he pushes inside you so roughly you’d face plant if not for the death grip in your hair.

“Katsuki!” You’d gasp brokenly. “Fuck, please please don’t stop.” Your scalp would start to throb at this point and your cheeks would be burning and hot to the touch.

“Fuckin’ pussy is suffocatin’ me baby, you’re gonna cum aren’t ya?” He’d be unbearably smug when he teases you and you’d want to bitch back but you’d have no time to reply because the coil in your belly would release and all your muscles would lock up as you cum.

Your mouth would drop open in a silent scream and Katsuki would give you a throaty moan and speed up the rhythm of his hips if only to drag out your pleasure and work you through it.

Safe to say Katsuki would really love pulling your hair.

Eijirou’s the kind of man who enjoys yanking on your hair when you’re sucking on his cock. When he thinks about how he can control the way you move and the speed at which your head bobs, he gets shivers. Granted, he’s often gentle in the beginning, when you first push his soft tip between your lips and creep down his thick shaft until you’ve almost swallowed him entirely.

He’ll delicately lace his long fingers through the hair at the base of your skull, a barely there pressure to guide you.

He’d make soft sounds of encouragement when you start to really move, fingers curled around the base because you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth without working up to it first. He’d watch your features pinch with concentration as your jaw started to ache, sucking obscenely when you pull back and swirl your tongue around the head.

He’d be so sweet and kind it’d rot your teeth, cooing at you while he lets you play into the illusion that you’re in control and you’d fall for it every. single. time.

At some point though you’d get tired of doing the work and you’d whine around his cock in frustration. Eijirou would laugh softly in return. He’d know what you want without words.

Then Eijirou would tighten his grip in your hair until the pain is pulsating and tangible underneath his commanding hands. He’d hold you in place and roll his hips again and again until you can comfortably take most of him as he fucks your mouth like a cock sleeve.

You’d squeeze your eyes shut, nails digging into his thighs but ultimately you’d love the way Eijirou uses your throat to make himself feel good. It’d make your pussy drool and your thighs clench together until he’d be gasping your name and jerking back to rest his cock head on your tongue.

You’d open your mouth and lock your half lidded gaze with his as stripes of his cum coat your tongue and hit the back of your throat. It’d be too easy to swallow it all and the sweet grin Eijirou would shoot you afterwards would be more than worth the sore throat you’re sure is to come.

Lucky for you the man is an overgrown puppy, eager to keep going and make you feel just as good if not even better.

This time though, you’d pull on his hair.

Shouto would specifically fixate on pulling your hair when he’s got you laid out on your back. When he’d be in between your thighs and fitting his cock snugly into your pussy.

Shouto would fuck you in such an undemanding but intense way. He’d get a thrill out of forcing you to keep eye contact with him as he brings you closer and closer to cumming. He’d love the way your lips part to gasp his name when he curls his hips a certain way. Or when your eyes would get so wide and shine with an almost panicked look to them when the pleasure gets too close to overwhelming.

Mostly, he’d pull your hair when you toss your head to the side or squeeze your eyes shut. Shouto would sneak his hand underneath your head, cradling the back of your skull before fisting a handful of your hair and tugging until your throat stretched painfully.

“If you look away from me I won’t let you cum,” he’d murmur in warning, a piercing cold trickling onto your scalp when his hand frosts over. You’d nod if you could but he keeps you motionless. Shouto watches you closely when you bite your lip in lieu of an answer. The reality is you know he’d make good on that promise if you didn’t listen and you aren’t taking any chances.

Shouto would sneak a hand down and press on the underside of your knee, bending it until your thigh is close to touching your chest, your other leg hanging loosely around his hip.

The look he’d give you then could never be called anything other than heated. His half lidded stare would be unashamed and his mouth would drop halfway open as he memorized your expression. He’d easily make you feel naked and vulnerable underneath the weight of it but it’d send you to the edge.

Shouto would lean down until your lips barely touched, waiting until your pussy clenches in response. “That’s it baby, you feel amazing. You’re about to make me cum.” His praise will get you every time and then you’d be cumming, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you do so.

He’d follow you after a few thrusts and finally he’d release his iron clad grip on your hair, burying his face in your throat and scratch your scalp gently in apology. Your head would throb but your limbs would be jelly and you’d admit that you fucking love when he pulls your hair.

[librababe99]

In the Shadows of Gotham

cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, Bruce Wayne x Girlfriend!Reader, fingering, p in v,  oral (f! receiving), overstimulation, body worship word count: 3.1K Summary: Bruce Wayne, the man who lives in the shadows of Gotham, the protector and savior of the city, has only one true weakness—you. After a long night of crime-fighting, Bruce returns home to indulge in your presence.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce and I've had a few ideas swirling around for some time...I was ready to get something out! Happy reading <3

(Main masterlist) | (DC Masterlist) | (Marvel Masterlist)

The weight of Gotham’s night clung to the man you loved. Shadows danced through the large windows of Wayne Manor, wrapping their cold tendrils around the walls of the lavish bedroom where you lay waiting. The clock on the bedside table ticked past 3 AM, a constant reminder that Bruce was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, risking his life for the city that never slept.

You had grown used to the late nights, the endless hours of waiting, but tonight felt different. There was a heaviness in the air, thick with anticipation. You had caught glimpses of it over the last few days—how the tension seemed to coil around Bruce’s muscles like a bowstring, how his eyes darkened with an unspoken need whenever they settled on you. You could feel it building, the way you felt the storm brewing over Gotham before it broke the sky open.

The low, familiar sound of the Batmobile’s engine pulling into the hidden cave beneath the manor jolted you out of your thoughts. Bruce was home.

The idea made your heart race with a blend of excitement and nervousness. He had been so distant lately, his focus entirely on Gotham’s latest wave of crime. But tonight, as you lay in bed, waiting for him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change.

The door creaked open, and there he was, standing tall in the shadows of the room. Bruce Wayne. The man, the myth, the enigma wrapped in darkness. He shed the Bat like an old skin, letting it fall away as he stepped toward you. His broad shoulders were still encased in the black of his suit, but his cowl was off, revealing the intense blue of his eyes that locked onto you.

"You're awake," he said, his voice low and rough from the night's exertions.

"I couldn't sleep." Your voice was soft, inviting.

Bruce stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you. His gaze roamed over your form, lingering on the way your body was partially hidden beneath the sheets, but exposed enough to draw his attention. You felt the burn of his eyes on you like a physical touch, and heat bloomed in your core.

"You should rest," he murmured, though his voice was threaded with something darker, something deeper.

"I was waiting for you," you replied, sitting up slightly, the sheet slipping further down your chest, revealing the curve of your breasts.

His eyes darkened further, and a low growl of approval rumbled in his chest. "You shouldn't have to wait."

"But I want to," you whispered, your voice a breathy invitation. "I always wait for you, Bruce."

His control snapped like a taut wire. In a heartbeat, he was crawling onto the bed, moving with a predator's grace. He loomed over you, one hand coming up to cradle your face with surprising gentleness, while the other slid beneath the sheets, brushing over the softness of your skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he rasped, his lips inches from yours. "How hard it is to come back here night after night and not just...devour you."

"Then don't hold back," you breathed, leaning into his touch. "I want you, Bruce. All of you."

His lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. It was desperate, needy, filled with all the pent-up emotion he'd kept locked away behind the mask he wore for Gotham. His tongue slid against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair.

The hand that had been caressing your face moved down to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, and it sent a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

But Bruce didn’t move to undress you right away. Instead, he pulled back, staring down at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"I need to touch you," he said, his voice rough with desire. "All of you. I need to remind myself that you're here. That you're real."

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he slowly peeled the sheet away from your body, exposing your naked form to his hungry gaze. His eyes roamed over every inch of you, as if he was memorizing the way you looked, committing it to memory in case he never got another chance.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You flushed under his praise, your body trembling with anticipation as he lowered himself down beside you. His large hands, rough from years of fighting, slid over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He started at your collarbone, his fingers tracing the delicate line of your neck before dipping lower to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped, arching into his touch.

He took his time, worshipping every inch of you with his hands, his mouth following the path his fingers had blazed. He kissed the hollow of your throat, the curve of your breast, the soft swell of your stomach. Each touch, each kiss, was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his lips.

You were lost in the sensation, your body humming with pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Bruce,” you whimpered, your hands fisting in the sheets as his mouth trailed lower, kissing along the inside of your thighs. “Please...”

He groaned against your skin, his breath hot as he kissed his way closer to where you needed him most. “Patience, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let me take my time with you.”

You whimpered again, your body aching with need, but you knew better than to rush him. Bruce was a man who controlled every aspect of his life with iron discipline, and that control extended to the bedroom. He liked to draw things out, to savor the slow build of pleasure until you were trembling on the edge of release.

And that’s exactly what he did.

His mouth finally found your core, and you cried out as he dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, teasing you with featherlight touches. He hummed against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body as he tasted you. His tongue circled your clit, drawing tight, controlled patterns that had you gasping for air.

Your hands flew to his hair, gripping the dark strands tightly as he continued to torment you with his mouth. He licked and sucked, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault on your clit. You could feel the orgasm building, a tight coil of pleasure winding in your belly.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face. “I’m so close...please...”

He groaned again, his grip on your thighs tightening as he increased the pressure of his tongue, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, could feel yourself teetering on the brink of release.

And then he stopped.

You cried out in frustration as he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Bruce, please...I need...”

“I know what you need,” he growled, crawling back up your body. His eyes were dark with lust, his pupils blown wide as he hovered over you. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could protest, he was kissing you again, his mouth hot and insistent against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips, the salty sweetness of your arousal mixed with the raw, masculine flavor of him. It was intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your slick entrance and slipping inside you. You moaned into his mouth, your body arching off the bed as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Bruce,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his back. “Please...I need...”

“You’ll get what you need,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “But first, I want to feel you come around my fingers. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you clenched around his fingers as the coil of pleasure in your belly tightened once more. He added a third finger, stretching you in a way that was just on the edge of too much, but it felt so good that you couldn’t stop the moan that tore from your throat.

His thumb brushed over your clit, and that was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge. Your body seized, and you cried out as the orgasm crashed through you, your walls clenching around his fingers in waves of pleasure.

Bruce groaned, watching you with a look of pure, unadulterated lust as you fell apart beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “That’s my girl.”

You were still trembling from the aftershocks when he pulled his fingers out of you, his lips crashing against yours once more. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the tang of your release mixing with the roughness of his kiss.

Bruce pulled back, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes darker than the Gotham night. His hands were still on your trembling thighs, holding you open for him, and the way he gazed at you was as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. There was something primal in his expression, a need so deep it made your pulse race all over again.

"You're stunning when you come," he said in a low, gravelly voice, the sound vibrating deep in your chest. His fingers trailed up your thigh, teasingly grazing your oversensitive folds, and you whimpered at the sensation. You were still throbbing from your first orgasm, and even the slightest touch made you shiver with both pleasure and overstimulation.

But Bruce had other plans for you tonight. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart.”

A thrill shot through you at his words. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent, but instead of giving in to his own need, Bruce seemed intent on worshiping you, on drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could. You had seen him like this before—focused, deliberate, a man on a mission. Only now, his mission was you.

You bit your lip as he kissed down your neck again, his lips and tongue tracing the path of your earlier shudders. He was slow, methodical, savoring the way your body responded to him. Your skin was hypersensitive after your release, and every kiss, every brush of his rough hands, sent sparks of sensation through you.

“Bruce…,” you breathed, unsure whether you were begging for more or asking for mercy.

His lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “Too much?” he asked softly, though there was a teasing note in his voice. His hand slid back between your legs, his fingers lightly tracing your swollen, soaked folds. "Or maybe... not enough?"

The ache between your thighs reignited at his touch, and you moaned softly, your body arching toward him. You were caught between the lingering sensitivity of your first climax and the overwhelming desire for more. The pleasure had barely faded, and already, you felt it building again. Bruce's fingers dipped inside you once more, stroking you with a maddening slowness that made you squirm beneath him.

"I want to feel you come again," he said, his voice rough with need. "I want to see how many times I can make you fall apart for me tonight."

His words, dark and delicious, sent a new wave of heat pooling in your belly. You could feel the tension returning, the slow, insistent pulse of pleasure building as Bruce continued to work his fingers inside you, his thumb brushing over your clit in rhythmic circles. You clenched around him, your body already betraying you, already chasing the high of release again.

He was relentless, patient, his fingers curling against that sweet spot deep inside you, his thumb rubbing circles around your oversensitive clit. You could barely think, barely breathe as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to overwhelm you. You had never been so close to overstimulation before, and it was both too much and not enough all at once.

“Bruce—please, I—I can’t…” You gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“You can,” he growled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You will.”

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, his fingers moving faster inside you, and the coil of pleasure in your belly tightened so quickly you couldn’t stop the moan that tore from your throat. You were trembling, shaking with the intensity of it, your entire body on the verge of shattering under his touch.

Then, without warning, the orgasm hit you again, harder than before. Your vision blurred, your entire body arching off the bed as the pleasure exploded through you, wave after wave crashing over you. You cried out his name, your voice hoarse with the force of your release, and Bruce groaned in response, watching you fall apart beneath him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Let go, sweetheart.”

Your body trembled with the aftershocks, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Bruce’s fingers slipped out of you, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, at the loss of his touch. But he wasn’t finished.

He kissed you again, his lips soft but insistent, and you melted into him, still shaking from the force of your second orgasm. His body pressed against yours, his hardness unmistakable as he settled between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the weight of him, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck. “But I need more. I need to be inside you.”

You moaned softly, your body still thrumming with overstimulation, but the thought of him filling you, of him finally giving in to his own desire, made the ache between your thighs flare with renewed intensity.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Bruce. I need you."

He groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance. He was thick, hard, and the moment the tip of him pressed against your slick heat, you gasped, your body arching toward him in anticipation.

Slowly, agonizingly, Bruce pushed inside you, stretching you in a way that had your toes curling in pleasure. You moaned softly, your hands gripping his biceps as he filled you completely, inch by inch. It was almost too much after everything he had already put you through, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain.

“God, you feel so good,” he growled, his breath hot against your neck as he finally bottomed out inside you. “So fucking tight. So perfect.”

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feel of him, but you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles trembled with restraint. He was holding himself back for you, trying not to overwhelm you too soon, but you didn’t want restraint anymore.

"Bruce," you whimpered, rolling your hips against him, urging him to move. "Please…"

That single word broke him.

With a deep, primal groan, Bruce began to thrust into you, slow at first but with a growing intensity that had you gasping for air. Every stroke sent a shock of pleasure through you, your oversensitive body responding to him in ways you hadn’t thought possible. Each time he bottomed out, the head of his cock pressed against that sweet spot inside you, and the pleasure radiated outward, overwhelming you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your back arching off the bed as you moaned his name over and over again. He was relentless, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force, each thrust driving you higher and higher toward that precipice you had already tumbled over twice tonight.

"Look at me," Bruce growled, his hand gripping your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, filled with heat and adoration, and the sight of him above you, so consumed by his need for you, made your heart race. "I want to see you come for me again."

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. The tight coil of pleasure in your belly unraveled, and your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him, milking him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

Bruce groaned, his hips stuttering as your release triggered his own. With a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself inside you, his body trembling as he spilled into you. His thrusts slowed, becoming more erratic as he rode out his orgasm, until finally, he collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing hard, slick with sweat and sated.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the sound of your ragged breaths mingling together. Bruce’s weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as your mind slowly returned to your body. He didn’t pull out right away, staying inside you, still hard enough to keep you full as he kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice rough but filled with something softer, something tender.

You smiled up at him, your hand sliding up to cup his face. "So are you."

Bruce let out a soft chuckle, his lips brushing against yours in a lazy, languid kiss. “I think I might’ve broken you,” he teased, his thumb tracing the curve of your swollen lips.

“You did,” you admitted with a breathless laugh. “In the best possible way.”

He rolled over onto his back, taking you with him so that you were lying on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the warmth of his body.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest, just above his heart.

Bruce smiled softly, his hand stroking your back in slow, soothing circles. “So could I.”

For a while, the two of you simply lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. There was no crime, no shadows. There was only the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared pleasure, basking in the warmth of your love.

[joannasteez]

conejita

pairing: damian priest x reader warning: smut. nsfw!! use of pet name. “conejita” means “bunny” authors note: yeahhhhhhh…. expect more probably? this also works as a “sister fic” to @harmshake recent damian fic because we’ve been at it for days talking about this man lmaooooo. word count: like 800 i think…. tags: @333creolelady @kill-the-artiste

"mhphm".

a bright, little noise. sounding from the throat. a little broken. shuddered up really. far too breathy to be anything other than delicate. like a feather. flitting and fragile. a trembling in your legs, the weight of his touch—his caress and the sweep of his thumbs, just there, swirling over your nipples—a measured thing that makes your head spin. a swimming behind the eyes. 

you dig into him. needful. nails holding over the motion of his hands. searching for a reprieve, some grounding. thighs spread wide, an accommodation despite the ache. his frame, his build, kneeing into the sheets, your legs bent over his waist. that full, woodsy note to his cologne rushing your nose. bathing your lungs. everything of him, everywhere. a full consumption. lip bitten teeth, tender from that awful fight of patience. a taunting song under the skin, a quick tempo, pulsing deep, right there, trailing from the pit of your belly till its unfurling harsh in your clit. the tender little nub, untouched still, the fabric of your panties darkened and damp. the lavender color ruined by that awful fight of patience. 

and he's particular about these things. colors and scents and temperaments. loves your skin in pastels and littered with spicy, sweet notes. drapes the room in a silent expectation. those eyes. those hands, kneading in again. a soft pinch that makes your breath hitch. and he's unblinking here. looming over. hair falling over his shoulders and his shoulders wide. littered with ink and flexing strong. 

and he's cupping your breast still. a deep thorough touch. a luring out that won't stop till his satisfaction warms over into a hot bursting. lips pulling in to join. a peak of tongue. sweeping the tip of it over. kissing sweetly. a dangerous repetition. soft slipping tongue, wet and curling. a hiss through your teeth and that faithful hitch in your hips. a sharp, ill-mannered grind into nothing but the fabric of your panties. a dirty mixture singing from your throat. a groan and a whine. that awful fight with patience. shallow breaths and a sweet little shake in your hands. 

he breaks off your skin with a pop. humming dark. his eyes closed. focused. fighting with his patience just the same. and what a terrible fight it is. his tight shoulders sagging just the slightest bit. suckling your nipple whole. like the taste there is too much of not enough. like perhaps if he stayed a little longer, that full satisfaction will come, only to find that it's a long ways away. so he stays, groaning into the skin. cheeks hallowing. a lewd sweeping over as he pulls in. your fingers in his hair. a lazy run into his scalp. 

"...fuck...", breaking brightly. thumbing the nape of his neck. arching up into him. the pillows stuffed under your hips soft, as you roll into him. 

he moves, catches your lips into a sloppy kiss. licking in to taste the balm there. another hum that speaks to that reach of satisfaction. a flavor that catches ahold at his tongue, sinking into the palette till he's breaking with a rough shiver all over. the tender split of your lips play into the air. a sweet twist. touch roaming else where, a fine grazing over your belly, closer and yet so far away still. his fingers done up with cold metal rings. that awful fight with patience seemingly the greatest losing battle. your breaths shallow still. hips canting again. eager and a little ways away from unmodified. 

he smiles. kisses your lips and your cheeks. pulls himself upright. pushes against the bend in your knee. the other hand playing and toying with the damp fabric of would be lavender panties. humming amused. your breath hitching again, his thumb sneaking under the messy fabric to glide faint. a dangerous tease of a touch, enough to verify his presence and nothing more. and when you moan annoyed, rife with a terrible ache, he pinches firm. snags your clit between his thumb and pointer for a short little tug. a softness in his eyes that make you melt into the bed. "...my precious girl", he breathes. amused still. "...what'd i say about breathing? about patience huh?...", a note of something firm in his tone. waiting for that sure compliance to befall. your body settling more, releasing, breaths coming easier. "...there you go". 

"damian...", you lament. a grief there in the tone from all that terrible build of an ache. 

and when he peels over the mess of your panties to reveal your pussy, a groan shifts the air. leaves his belly and urges from his throat. like he's been testing his own patience just as harshly, willing himself into waiting, delaying the sweetness of this for a tastier gratification. the thickness of his fingers sink in. a delicious, slow, agonizing stretch that leaves you arching off of those gentle soft pillows again. feeling him nestle deep, enough till he's wet and sticky at his knuckles. lip tucked under his teeth. "how's that feel baby?"

"..i want more..", you groan. grinding to stroke along his fingers. 

he pats your thigh. short bursting stings that keep you from falling too far too fast out of his methods. "...easy hermosa, you'll get everything you need, right? don't i always do that for you?"

you look to him. lashes wet from the overwork of your nerves, nodding quickly. 

he looms over again. the smell of him rolling in. his lips kissing at your ear. slotting his fingers through the tight pulse of your pussy for a lazy little working in. 

"my little conejita".

[squinch-depraved]

i can never get enough of breeding kink schlatt. it’s like a disease. i think about it all the time

this is a topic that also weighs very heavy on my tiny little brain. thank you for an excuse to write about it

you breathed in, eyes fluttering closed at schlatt's cool touch on your stomach. the only light illuminating your body streamed in from the window across the room, city lights casting a lone, long stretch of dim glow all the way through the room. it cut across your midsection, perfectly casting a light on your boyfriend's face as he leaned down to kiss your bare navel. he swiped his tongue across your skin, taking in the airy moans you let out, and held you down by your hips for a moment before pressing a final kiss to your stomach and pulling away to look at you.

he looked angelic lit up by only the moon and the neverending glow of new york city. his fluffy brown curls, tousled and soft, and a calm expression on his face as he peered down at you made you swear he never looked more heavenly. you sighed a dreamy sigh, earning a smirk from him and rousing him to slip off your panties. the cool night air greeted your drenched core and sent a shiver up your spine.

he smiled softly and dipped his finger into you, slowly sliding it all the way in and out a few times before finally removing it and pulling his shirt off, followed by his boxers. you gawked at his massive form hovering over you as he lined himself up and pushed his cock into you. you took all of him greedily, moaning softly into his mouth while you kissed.

he started slow, pumping into you forcefully in a successful effort to hit your deepest, most delicious spots. a grunt tore from your throat every time his tip brushed your cervix.

"i'm gonna cum in you tonight," he panted simply. the statement was not a question in any way, he was merely letting you know how he planned to use you. "gonna fill you up and give you my baby. you want my baby, toots?"

you groaned and clawed at his back. "yes, j, please, gimme your cum," you babbled. "wanna be full with your baby and have everyone know you did it to me," your voice trailed off with a yelp as he began thrusting harder.

"can't get the image of you all round with my kid in your belly outta my head," he smirked. "just wanna pump you full of cum and plug you up 'til it takes."

"please!!" you cried.

"you're awfully brave, tempting me like this, doll. what if i did knock you up? then you'd be just another broad havin' some rich guy's bastard kid," schlatt said, pushing your legs up further so he had you almost folded in half. a whorish noise fell from your lips as his far-reaching cock combined with his thumb rubbing circles into your clit spurred on a burning pleasure, settling in your core.

"gonna be so full of my kids, baby," he mumbled. his thumb continued working on your sensitive nub, taking you through your third orgasm of the night. once you came for him, this time on his cock, he began bucking his hips into you more forcefully, as if he was waiting for you to finish for him to really go for it. "so round, so big with my dna. you're gonna be so fuckin' beautiful, growin' my babies in that gorgeous womb." he spoke like a starved man, intensity in his voice growing and leaking desperation as he approached his high. "i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, i'm gonna-"

he fucked into you hard, surely bruising your insides before you felt him paint your walls with his white ropes. "take my fuckin' kids, take it, doll, attagirl," he rambled as he came in you. he collapsed on top of you after a moment and refused to pull out. "how am i gonna make sure it works if i don't keep you plugged full and under me?" he asked with a smile. you rolled your eyes playfully and fell asleep, comforted by the weight of the man you trusted most on top of you.

yeah breeding kink schlatt will return don't worry friends this is merely a taste

[official-cvntified-gay]

Flight Attendant: A Pilot's Special [Abby A. x Reader]

❥ Pilot!Abby Anderson x Flight Attendant!Reader

❥ note: ugh I'm a whore for captain abby, I wrote this after I read a captain abby oneshot in ao3.

The plane was getting prepped for another day in the sky. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a warm orange glow on the tarmac, and you could feel the buzz of excitement mingled with nervousness coursing through your veins. It was your first day as a flight attendant—something you had worked hard for—and you wanted everything to go perfectly.

Dressed in your crisp uniform, you made sure your hair was in place, your name tag shining proudly on your chest. You took a deep breath before stepping onto the plane, your heart thudding against your ribs as you imagined the hundreds of things that could go wrong.

"Relax, you've got this," you muttered under your breath, trying to psych yourself up.

“First day, huh?” A voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to see a woman standing tall with an air of authority, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her uniform neat and immaculate. Abby Anderson, the captain. Her reputation preceded her—known for being efficient, cold, and not exactly the warmest person on board. People whispered about her strict demeanor, her professionalism that sometimes felt intimidating.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, taken aback by her sudden presence.

“Captain Anderson,” she introduced herself, not offering a handshake. Her blue eyes bore into yours, unreadable, as she nodded. “I expect everything to run smoothly.”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied quickly, trying not to let her intimidating presence throw you off.

She gave you a curt nod before turning away. You could feel the weight of her authority, the way she commanded attention without even trying. As you went about your duties, you noticed how the other crew members seemed tense around her. She wasn’t mean, exactly—just...distant. Detached. Every movement was precise, every word clipped, like she was too busy to waste time on pleasantries.

But then, something strange happened.

Every so often, you caught her glancing your way. When she passed by, there was an almost imperceptible softening in her expression, a flicker of something warmer. You thought it was just your imagination, but then it happened again—and again.

It wasn’t until halfway through the flight that she approached you directly.

"You're doing well for your first day." Her voice was still professional, but there was a teasing edge to it now, a hint of something more.

"Thank you, Captain," you replied, trying to sound as professional as possible, but you could feel your cheeks heating under her gaze.

"Abby," she corrected, her tone softer. She took a step closer, and your breath caught in your throat. "No need for formalities when it's just the two of us."

"Abby," you repeated, the name feeling foreign on your tongue.

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “You look a little nervous, you know. Is it me? Because I swear I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Your eyes widened, heat rising in your cheeks. "W-what?"

Abby chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Relax. I’m just messing with you.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so only you could hear. “Or maybe I’m not.”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way her presence seemed to engulf you. Was this really happening? The stoic, cold Captain Anderson was flirting with you?

For the rest of the flight, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Abby’s eyes on you. Every time you passed her in the cockpit or while making rounds, her gaze lingered just a little too long, a teasing smile pulling at her lips.

By the end of the shift, you were a bundle of nerves and confusion. You were standing by the exit, helping passengers disembark when Abby approached you once again, standing a little too close.

“You did good today,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “I like a woman who can keep her cool under pressure.”

“I-I try,” you managed to stammer, your brain short-circuiting from her proximity.

"Mm, I noticed." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "You should let me take you out for a drink sometime. Help you unwind after a long day."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Was this a joke? Was she serious? But when you turned to meet her gaze, the playful glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I— uh— I don’t know—” you started, but Abby cut you off with a smirk.

“Think about it.” She winked, her voice dripping with confidence. “I’m a patient woman.”

She turned to leave, walking off with that same air of cool detachment she always had. But this time, there was a sway in her step that told you she knew exactly what effect she had on you.

For the next few weeks, Abby didn’t let up. Every time you were on the same flight, she found some excuse to be near you. She'd make a casual comment, brush past you just close enough to make your skin tingle, and offer you those teasing little smiles that left you breathless.

One day, you were struggling with a particularly heavy overhead bin when Abby appeared out of nowhere, easily pushing it into place with one hand.

“Need some help?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“I had it,” you muttered, embarrassed that she had caught you in such a moment of weakness.

“Of course you did.” She grinned, leaning in slightly. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your thoughts spinning. You couldn’t deny it any longer—Abby Anderson had a hold on you, and she knew it.

Every time she smiled at you, every time she teased you, you found yourself falling deeper. And Abby? She was relentless in her pursuit.

She was the Captain, after all—and she always got what she wanted.

And this time, what she wanted was you.