#sweet home soft thoughts

[niki-phoria]

사랑 이상의 more / you are my paranormal love

pairing: cha hyunsu x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 972

notes: very brief mention of self harm/scars but you really have to look for it, set in s1 bc i'm rewatching the series lol, bringing this gif back bc it's his best look sue me, this is barely proofread pls forgive any mistakes !! title from enhypen - paranormal

dusk is joined by a soft gleam of sunlight streaming in through barred windows. the light does little to illuminate the room. large shadows creep along the walls all around you, though monsters are no longer hidden within their darkness.

the storage room is stuffy; it’s filled to the brim with miscellaneous cleaning supplies and stacks of abandoned file cabinets line the back wall. above you, the building creaks beneath the weight of its residents’ movements, emitting quiet groans of disapproval. the walls do little to block out any noise, allowing occasional thumps and scrapes of the monsters lurking throughout to fill the otherwise quiet room.

CHA HYUNSU looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. like the universe only exists within the palm of your hand. like he’s never seen something so beautiful that it’s impossible to look away from.  

“are you alright?” hyunsu asks quietly. your shoulders just barely brush against each other as he steps onto the plastic crates you’ve arranged into a makeshift seat to sit beside you. pulling his knees up to his chest, he leans his back against the thick concrete pillar in the center of the room. 

“yeah,” you sigh. hyunsu’s heart skips a beat in his chest when you shift closer, leaning your shoulder against his own - gentle, but impossible to miss. “i’m just a little cold.” 

hyunsu hums. with limited power in the building and an apocalypse on the horizon, the air conditioning and heat had been regulated only to be used during emergencies. the nights were freezing, leaving you only with the clothes on your back to keep you warm.

“here,” hyunsu fidgets with the zipper of his jacket as he clumsily slips it off, gingerly wrapping it around your shoulders. it hangs loosely around your frame, threatening to fall off of your shoulders with any harsh movements. 

his fingers nervously curl into his palms, anxiously awaiting your reaction. his nails leave crescent marks indented into his skin. he has to make a conscious effort to relax enough not to break skin.

“thank you,” you smile brightly. tension rolls off of his shoulders in waves with your acceptance. hyunsu’s jacket smells like off-brand laundry detergent when you slip your arms into the sleeves. you can just barely make out the bloodstains on the dark fabric, though you don’t mention them. 

“yeah,” hyunsu takes a shaky breath. the cool night air stings against his now-exposed forearms but it’s nothing he can’t handle. he presses the inside of his left arm closer to his side, turning to face you with a soft smile. “of course.” 

hues of dark purple and blue paint the sky above. the usual hum of crickets has been silenced; it’s replaced instead by the screeches and groans of monsters slinking around nearby. hyunsu stiffens when you shuffle slightly closer to him, just enough to lean your head against his shoulder. 

he can feel each steady thump of his heart beating in his chest. butterflies swarm throughout his stomach, angrily making their presence known. “hyunsu.” his name drips with sweetness like honey when it leaves your lips. 

you reach over, slowly taking his hand into your own. hyunsu remains perfectly still, allowing you to intertwine your hand with his own. your fingertips trace along the grooves of his knuckles, scraping against a stray blood stain he had forgotten to clean. if he didn’t know any better, he would run from the contact. 

“yeah?” he answers. hyunsu’s worries slip away when you give his hand a reassuring squeeze; the pressure is just barely enough to be felt. 

you’re looking at him now, studying his sharp features. somehow, hyunsu feels safe beneath your gaze. “can i kiss you?” you whisper. 

hyunsu’s breath catches in his throat. he blinks once. twice. he waits, long enough for you to take it back, apologies spilling from your lips and your hand leaving his own. 

but you don’t. 

he nods shakily, still almost in disbelief. his eyes flutter closed when you lean in. hyunsu’s lips are chapped when they meet yours. you���ll have to remind him to ask for another bottle of water in the morning. his fingertips trace against the edge of your jaw, hesitantly cradling your face in his shaky hands. each movement is slow and deliberate, as if he’s afraid of making the wrong move and scaring you off entirely. 

time seems to freeze around you. for just a few moments, the world fades away. there are no more bullies to face on the way to class. there are no monsters lingering in the dark. there are no people and their judgemental glares and invasive questions and .

for just a few moments, all that exists is you. your arms snaking around his shoulders. your hand carefully threading through stray strands of hyunsu’s overgrown hair. your lips pressed against his.

he doesn’t dare to pull away until you do. heat floods into his cheeks, spreading across his face and tinting his ears a deep pink. hyunsu’s wide eyes shine even in the darkness as he silently studies your features for any hint of discomfort. “was that okay?” 

you smile softly, reaching up to gingerly rest cup his face in your hand. hyunsu’s face feels hot when your thumb caresses his cheek. “it was perfect.” 

shivers race down hyunsu’s spine when your fingertips trace against the faint acne scars that decorate his face like constellations. he quietly sighs, leaning into your touch and letting you continue your ministrations without complaint. “thank you,” you murmur. 

hyunsu’s eyebrows furrow slightly. he shifts just enough to look down at you in confusion. “for what?”

you tug the sleeves of hyunsu’s jacket up over your hands, toying with the fabric between your fingers. leaning upwards slightly, you press a feather-light kiss against his flushed cheek. “for everything.” 

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my sweet home masterlist <33

[ruporas]

cheers to the future of humanity (and the future of us)

[ID: Digital illustration in color of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun. The illustration takes place during the ship/home arc, specifically chapter 21. At the center, Vash is grabbing Wolfwood by the collar and pulls him into a kiss in the middle of a celebration. The pair is colored in vibrant warm hues while their surroundings are colored in cooler colors like green and teals. Luida, Brad, Meryl, and Milly are shown amongst the crowd, occupied in the celebrations as Vash and Wolfwood share a moment by themselves at the center. END ID]

[spaciebabie]

this picture isnt real its all happening in twilights head and she's listening ta this as she's having her bi horse fantasies

un blurred below the cut as well as the lineart with flats cuz i want ta show it off sue me

edit: ignore that the images changed slightly i noticed a shading error i missed and it was bothering me 💀

[heavenpureheart]

[fabuloustrash05]

If you think the 2012 April x Donnie romance was bad then just know that in the very first draft/concept for the 2012 show ALL of the Turtles were gonna be in love with April as well as having her being an “emotional substitute” for the boys cause the story was gonna take place after Splinter's death.

[trevisos]

got sick and had to play this scene again

[infectedzoology]

INFECTED AU STUFF MY FAVORITE /SILLY

anyways ive always said eve wld be a hunter ( lower body strength focused but still attacks with claws, the most animalistic of the infected, stealthy and lurks to the shadows, etc )

BUT the ceda tapes analogue horror series introduced a concept of a special infected called " whisperers " that still retain some of their humanity but the infection overtakes them during states of hunger and they use their intellect to lure surviviors in and i feel like evelyn would 100% turn into one ( especially since the only character known to turn into one so far has been a scientist )

her course of action would be to immediately inform her group / companions ( provided they didn't witness it happening, which is pretty unlikely considering she would make a scene of it when the zombie even grabs her to begin with, ) then, depending on the area she got bit, she'd probably try to amputate it, or at least clean the wound throughly and hope for the best

she wouldn't be scared of turning -- there's a part of her deep down that believes the green flu is nature's retribution against humanity, a punishment for mistreating the earth and a way for earth to cleanse itself, and if that is the case, she has no problem following the will of mama nature and her future

she never cared for humanity much anyways.

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 64

Chapter; Highlights

Hours later, Yrene was still shaking.

At the disaster they'd narrowly avoided, at the deaths she'd witnessed before that wave had struck, at the power of the queen on the plain. The power of the prince who had prevented the ensuing steam from boiling alive any caught in its path.

Yrene had thrown herself back into healing during the chaos since. Had left the royals and their commanders to oversee the aftermath, and had returned to the Great Hall. Healers drifted onto the battlefield, searching for those in need of help.

All of them, every single person in the keep or the skies or on the battlefield, kept glancing toward the now-empty gap between two mountain peaks. Toward the flooded, decimated city, and the demarcation line between life and death. Water and debris had destroyed most of Anielle, the former now trickling toward the Silver Lake.

A vision of what would have been left of them, were it not for Aelin Galathynius.

She'd been asked to inspect the queen when she'd been carried in to a private chamber by Prince Rowan, the two of them borne off the plain by Nesryn. Yrene hadn't been able to stop her hands from shaking as she'd hovered them over Aelin's unconscious body.

There had been no sign of harm beyond a few already-healing cuts and slices from the battle itself.

Nothing at all beyond a sleeping, tired woman.

Who held the might of a god within her veins.

Yrene had then inspected Prince Rowan, who looked in far worse shape, a sizable gash snaking down his thigh. But he'd waved her off, claiming he'd come too near a burnout, and just needed to rest as well.

So Yrene had left them, only to tend to another.

—

To Lorcan, whose injuries ... Yrene had needed to summon Hafiza to help her with some of it. To lend her power, since Yrene's had been so depleted.

The unconscious warrior, who had apparently tumbled right off Farasha as he and Elide had passed through the gates, didn't so much as stir while they worked on him.

That had been hours ago. Days ago, it felt.

Yes, she needed to rest.

But a horn, clear and bright, blared from outside.

Everyone halted-then rushed to the windows. Yrene's smile grew as she, too, found a place to peek out over the battlefield.

To where the rest of the khagan's army, Prince Kashin at its front, marched toward them.

Thank the gods. Everyone in the hall muttered similar words.

From the keep, an answering horn sang its welcome.

Not just one army had been spared here today, Yrene realized as she turned back to the water station. If that wave had reached Kashin.

…

Lucky. They had all been so, so very lucky.

Yet Yrene wondered how long that luck would last.

If it would see them through the brutal march northward, and to the walls of Orynth itself.

Lorcan let out a low groan as he surfaced from the warm, heavy embrace of darkness.

"You are one lucky bastard."

Too soon. Too damn soon after hovering near death to hear Fenrys's drawl.

Fenrys's smirk was a slash of white.

"You've been out for a day. I drew the short stick and had to look after you."

A lie. For whatever reason, Fenrys had chosen to be here.

Lorcan thumped his head back on the pillow. "Elide." Her name was a rasp on his tongue.

The last he remembered, they'd ridden through the gates, Aelin Galathynius's unholy power spent. Then oblivion had swept in.

"Helping with the healing in the Great Hall," Fenrys said, stretching out his legs before him.

Lorcan closed his eyes, something tight in his chest easing.

"Well, since you're not dead," Fenrys began, but Lorcan was already asleep.

Lorcan awoke later. Hours, days, he didn't know.

The candle was still burning on the narrow windowsill, down to its base. Hours, then.

He didn't care. Not when the dim light revealed the delicate woman lying facedown on the end of his cot, the lower half of her body still on the wooden chair where Fenrys had been. Her arms cradled her head, one outstretched toward him. Reaching for his hand, mere inches from hers.

Elide.

Her dark hair spilled across the blanket, across his shins, veiling much of her face.

Wincing at the lingering ache in his body, Lorcan stretched his arm just enough to touch her fingers. They were cold, their tips so much smaller than his. They contracted, pulling away as she sucked in a sharp, awakening breath.

Lorcan savored every feature as she grimaced at a crick in her neck. But her eyes settled on him. She went still as she found him staring at her, awake and utterly in awe of the woman who had ridden through hell to find him ...

Tired. She looked spent, yet her chin remained unbowed.

Lorcan had no words. He'd given her everything on the back of that horse anyway.

But Elide asked, "How do you feel?" Aching. Exhausted. Yet finding her sitting at his bedside... "Alive," he said, and meant it.

Her face remained unreadable, even as her eyes dipped to his body. The blanket had slid down enough to reveal most of his torso, though it still hid the scarred-over wound in his abdomen. Yet he'd never felt so keenly naked.

It was an effort to keep his breathing steady beneath her sharp-eyed gaze. "Yrene said you would have died, if they hadn't gotten to you when they did."

"I would have died," he said, voice like gravel, "if you hadn't braved hell to find me." Her gaze lifted to his. "I made you a promise."

"So you said."

Was that a hint of color stealing across her pale cheeks? But she didn't balk. "You said some interesting things, too."

Lorcan tried to sit up, but his body gave a burst of pain in protest.

Elide explained, "Yrene warned that though the wounds are healed, some soreness will linger."

Lorcan gritted his teeth around the sharp stab in his back, his stomach. He managed to get onto his elbows, and deemed that progress enough. "It's been a while since I was so gravely injured. I'd forgotten what an inconvenience it is."

A faint smile tugged on her mouth.

His heart halted. The first smile she had given him in months and months. Since that day on the ship, when he'd touched her hand as they'd swayed in their hammocks.

Her smile faded, but the color on her cheeks lingered. "Did you mean it? What you said." He held her stare. Let some inner wall within him come crumbling down. Only for her. For this sharp-eyed, cunning little liar who had slipped through every defense and ironclad rule he'd ever made for himself. He let her see that in his face. Let her see all of it, as no one had ever done before. "Yes."

Her mouth tightened, but not in displeasure.

So Lorcan said softly, "I meant every word." His heart thundered, so wildly it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. "And I will until the day I fade into the Afterworld."

Lorcan didn't breathe as Elide gently reached out her hand. And interlaced their fingers. "I love you," she whispered.

He was glad he was lying down. The words would have knocked him to his knees. Even now, he was half inclined to bow before her, the true owner of his ancient, wicked heart.

"I have loved you," she went on, "from the moment you came to fight for me against Vernon and the ilken." The light in her eyes stole his breath. "And when I heard you were somewhere on that battlefield, the only thing I wanted was to be able to tell you that. It was the only thing that mattered."

Once, he might have scoffed. Declared that far bigger things mattered, in this war especially. And yet the hand grasping his ... He'd never known anything more precious.

Lorcan ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "I am sorry, Elide. For all of it."

"I know," she said softly, and no regret or hurt dimmed her face. Only clear, unwavering calm shone there. The face of the mighty lady she was growing into, and had already become, and who would rule Perranth with wisdom in one hand and compassion in the other.

They stared at each other for minutes. For a blessed eternity.

Then Elide untangled their hands and rose. "I should return to help Yrene."

Lorcan caught her hand again. "Stay."

She arched a dark brow. "I'm only going to the Great Hall."

Lorcan caressed his thumb over the back of her hand once more. "Stay," he breathed.

For a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no, and was prepared to be fine with it, to accept these last few minutes as more of a gift than he'd deserved.

"Say it," she whispered, fingers stilling in his hair. Lorcan opened his eyes, finding her gaze. "I love you."

"Yrene said you might always have this," she said, her hand mercifully falling away.

"Then it will be the scar I treasure most."

Fenrys would laugh until he cried to hear him speak this way, but Lorcan didn't care. To hell with the rest of them.

Another one of those small smiles curved her lips, and Lorcan's hands tightened in the sheets with the effort it took not to taste that smile, to worship it with his own mouth.

But this new, fragile thing humming between them ... He would not risk it for all the world.

Elide, thank the gods, had no such worries.

None at all, it seemed, as she lifted a hand to his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Every breath was an effort of control.

Lorcan held absolutely still as she brought her mouth to his. Brushed her lips across his own.

She pulled back. "Rest, Lorcan. I'll be here again when you wake."

Anything she asked, he'd give her.

Anything at all.

Too shaken by that soft, beautiful kiss to bother with words, he lay back down.

But until then, he wanted her here. Sleeping at his side, where he might watch over her. As she had watched over him.

Elide seemed to read that on his face, and her cheeks reddened further. "Later, then," she breathed, limping to the door.

Lorcan sent a flicker of his power to wrap around her ankle. The limp vanished.

A hand on the knob, she gave him a small, grateful nod. "I missed that."

He heard the unspoken words as she disappeared into the busy hall.

I missed you.

Lorcan allowed himself a rare smile.

[neo-shitty]

oh i just want to cry rn

[skelekins]

I love the trope of tails getting all twisty when the person is like tingly with EmOtIon and feelings

Like when people curl their toes or tie their fingers together when something feels good or really excited

What I’m trying to say is I love the idea of Kelek’s tail getting supper twisted up if he’s super flustered

[free-grandmaa]

The feminine urge to spend the day deep cleaning the house, and to spend the evening sipping vino and lounging in the bathroom writing poetry.

SUNDAY | RESET | REST

[hollow-prey]

LOVE LETTERS!!!!!!!!!! WITH JULIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I COMBUST AT THE MERE THOUGHT OF IT

[amourfae]

fae hiii i hope ur doing well 🧸

[alygator77]

just a little drabble for my current wip. arranged marriage with clanhead gojo.

warnings: mdni, smut, breeding kink, lots of breeding, praise, creampie, bit of angst.

arranged clanhead! satoru who still isn’t used to sharing his space, even after months of marriage. the grand Gojo estate, once his sanctuary, feels smaller with you in it—your scent lingering on the furniture, your soft hums echoing in the halls—not unpleasant, but… unfamiliar.

arranged clanhead! satoru who notices how your shampoo smells so sweet, clinging to his pillow. how your hair clogs his drain and it drives him fucking insane, yet he still finds himself instinctively reaching for your favorite brand of conditioner while he’s out, tucking it into his basket without a second thought. he doesn’t know why—it’s not like he cares… right?

arranged clanhead! satoru who steps into the kitchen late one evening to find you leaning against the counter. your hair falls in loose strands around your face, messy but still maddeningly pretty, and you sip tea from a mug—his favorite mug. you’re draped in one of his shirts, the hem barely brushing mid-thigh—your bare legs illuminated by the dim glow of the overhead light.

for a fleeting second, he freezes. you look… almost at home. he doesn’t want you to look at home. or does he? he shakes the thought away.

“couldn’t sleep?” he drawls, his eyes lingering on the curve of your legs. “or… were you waiting up for me? ‘cause I could really blow off some steam.”

arranged clanhead! satoru who emerges from the bathroom later that night, his snowy hair damp and tousled, a towel slung lazily over his broad shoulders. he’s wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants, the defined lines of his abdomen on full display as he rubs the towel through his hair, his gaze sliding over to you lying on the bed.

“ready for tonight?” he asks, tilting his head with that signature nonchalance, as though he isn’t about to fuck the hell out of you, as though his sole intention isn’t to fill you so full of his cum that there’s no question the Gojo Clan will get their heir.

arranged clanhead! satoru who pushes you into a mating press the moment he’s on top of you, his large hands gripping your thighs as he folds your legs back against your chest, pinning you beneath him. his cock slides against your slick folds before splitting you apart, and his breath shudders as your cunt swallows him greedily.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, panting through thrusts. “always so good f’me. always takin’ me so fucking well.”

arranged clanhead! satoru who hates himself for the shameful thrill that bubbles up within him, the sick satisfaction of watching you come undone beneath him. the way your pussy clenches around his dick, the way your gasps and moans echo in his ears, drives him to thrust harder, deeper, as though his very existence depends on filling you—which it does.

arranged clanhead! satoru who’s pace is merciless, hips slamming into you with an almost feral hunger. he tells himself it’s just biology, but deep down he knows better.

“good fucking girl…” he smirks, pushing your legs higher as you squirm beneath him—your nails digging into his arms, but the sting only spurs him on. “don’t worry sweetheart—haaa—this time, for sure, m'gonna breed that pretty pussy. gonna make you drip with my cum ‘til you can’t hold it all…”

arranged clanhead! satoru who watches your eyes roll back as his cock slams into you, the bed shaking beneath you as his focus narrows on the way your breasts bounce with every forceful thrust.

“you’re mine,” he groans, the words slipping out before he can stop them, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you—hot, thick ropes of cum painting your walls. his body trembles against yours as he buries himself to the hilt.

“fuuuck, take it…” he rasps, his forehead dropping to press against yours. “so fucking good f’me.”

arranged clanhead! satoru who doesn’t move for a long moment, his chest pressed to yours, his weight pinning you to the mattress. your breath mingles, warm and uneven, and for a fleeting second, he almost forgets why he’s here. why you’re here. but then reality creeps in, sharp and cold, and he pulls out slowly, watching as the mix of his cum and your slick drips onto the sheets.

arranged clanhead! satoru who remembers his duty as clanhead, as the leader of the Gojo Clan. like a good husband—like a good leader—he doesn’t waste a single drop. he shifts, his fingers dipping between your legs to scoop up the cum leaking from you.

“can’t let this go to waste, sweetheart,” he mutters as he pushes the thick mess back into you. his thumb presses against your clit, and he smirks when it earns a soft gasp from you—his fingers sliding deeper. he watches, transfixed, as his cum disappears inside you again, his cock giving a weak twitch at the sight.

arranged clanhead! satoru who rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling as his chest heaves with the effort of catching his breath. he doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t hold you, and you don’t reach for him. the silence afterward is louder than any moan you could make. he tries to ignore the ache in his chest, something he refuses to name.

arranged clanhead! satoru who lies awake long after you’ve drifted off, his arm slung over his eyes as he tries to ignore the ache in his chest. he won’t admit it—not to you, not to himself—but he’s starting to crave more than your body. he craves the softness in your voice when you call his name, the quiet way you laugh when you think he’s not listening.

but this is just obligation. just duty. just… fucking. right?

full fic in the works 🫶🏻 lmk if you wanna be tagged.

[webism]

pornstar!toji who is known for being easy with his scenes. he's there for a good fuck and an even better paycheck: it doesn't matter who, or where, or how... if he's being paid he will do it. he doesn't mind getting nasty, and so he's often booked for more exotic scenes. he fucks good, and he fucks a lot.

pornstar!toji who is strapped for cash one week after an unfortunate loss on the horses, and takes the first scene offered to him. a vanilla fuck with a new-to-the-scene pornstar with potential... at least that's what his agent, shiu, tells him. he's confused on what potential he's hinting at until he rocks up ten minutes late to the shoot and lays eyes on you, already naked and on the stage bed. you have a look to you that makes a man like toji feel obliged to drop to his knees.

pornstar!toji who is already harder than he has been in a long time when shiu clarifies that when he called you 'new to the scene' he meant it: this is your first porn shoot. and though you're not a virgin, toji has the honour of taking your first time on camera... and god does he love the thought.

pornstar!toji who is greeted with a small smile and a soft 'hello' from you, shy beneath his gaze as if you aren't naked and soon to be stuffed full of his cock. he watches your eyes shift, from his piercing eyes to his beautifully scarred lip to the gorgeous tone of his body, all the way down to his awfully large cock. he can tell you're nervous, worried about taking all of him on film.

pornstar!toji who isnt good with gentle comforts, but still wants you to feel at ease with him. so, despite his instructions for a simple fuck scene, toji attacks you with deep kisses first, gets you used to the burning heat of his body against yours. and when you're melted enough against his skin he trails down and eats you out for a long twenty minutes. production would try and stop him, but he's already tipsy on your taste and the moans leaving your lips are, frankly, made for porn.

pornstar!toji who revels in the way your back arches off the mattress—he'd accuse you of putting on a show for the cameras if your hips weren't bucking up against his face in an almost primal need. he can taste it on you, the genuine lust, the way you drip wet on his tongue and still grab at his hair for more. and when he gives you more—when he finally slips his cock into you—he can't help himself from groaning out something needy. he's the silent type, letting his costar take center stage, but god can he not keep quiet feeling your walls wrapped around him.

pornstar!toji who has never had an issue with porn before, but with your legs wrapped around his waist, your eyes locked onto his as he pumps in and out of you with white hot need, he finds he hates the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. he's not a possessive man, he shouldn't feel this way, but he does. even the watchful stares of the cameramen piss him off, and he finds his hips moving faster and his cock nestling deeper inside of you just to show them that he's the one pleasing you.

pornstar!toji who can't help but kiss you as you both cum in unison. he ruins the shot, the cameras cant see your orgasm face when he's swallowing your moans like they're sweet wine. he's surprised his pay doesn't get cut for it.

when pornstar!toji does get paid, it's the first cheque in a very long time that he doesn't blow the same night it comes through. because he doesn't have time to go out and waste his money: he's at home fucking his fist to the film you made together and mentally degrading himself for being so pussy whipped. he strokes himself in time with his own thrusts in the video, and tries so desperately to recall your taste on his tongue, but its fruitless. he's agitated and sexually frustrated and keeps reloading your personal pages to see if you've filmed with anyone since him.

pornstar!toji who becomes so lost in his own mind that he starts turning down shoots with other actors—shoots with good pay. he's done everything under the sun, done all the hardcore porn and weird fetish content but now that he's gotten a fresh taste of plain passion sex with you, he can't stomach anything else. he'd say your name, he knows it—and it doesn't help that he hasn't been able to reach orgasm for a week without thinking of you.

pornstar!toji who, after three weeks of pure misery, decides to make a move. he doesn't do dates or romantic nights on the town. he doesn't do flowers or sweet nothings or eye contact even, but he finds himself contacting shiu and threatening the poor man in hopes of your real name, your address, anything.

and you, late one evening fucking yourself on your fingers to the brink of frustrated tears because they're not his cock. even more disgruntled when theres a pounding knock at your front door, and after cleaning yourself up a little you swing it open to find pornstar!toji stood in the rain outside. and you can only take him in—his heavy build and desperate eyes—before he's crashing his lips against yours, walking you into your own home and kicking the door shut behind him.

[ridingthatd]

nanami eyes filled with rage and lust as he enters your shared bedroom. he's finally home after a very long; night shift hour at work, he growls as he stares at your sleeping figure palming his ragging fat cock through his work pants- you naughty fucking slut, sending him a picture of your wet pussy while he's at work- teasing him.

he approaches the bed while his hands are undoing his belt, he smoothly pulls out his veiny angry cock hissing as the cold air touches his leaking red tip. oh how sensitive it feels. he doesn't stop stroking his cock while he makes his way towards you, squeezing his sensitive tip as his thumb smudges the precum that's leaking out of his clit.

his gruff hands from working at construction leave his cock and start trailing under your blanket. his sandpaper like hands brushing against your soft thighs.

nanami tsks as soon as he feels your bare pussy. "what a fucking slut" he groans out sliding his cock between your thighs until it meets your little pussy. his large body was towering over you, scooping you from behind. nanami wanted to be sweet and gentle with you but those thoughts vanished as soon as he remembers the way you were teasing.

his eyes immediately turn black and he roughly grabs your hair earning a gasp from you, pulling your face toward him before he huffs out and shoves his fat cock in one go inside your pussy- hitting your cervix. you let out a scream, but that doesn't stop nanami from fucking his cock inside your tight hole.

"ahhhh-! n-nanami-?!" you sob out pain and pleasure shooting out of your pussy. nanami shushs you by shoving the fingers that were gripping your hair, inside your mouth. pressing them on your tongue as you start drooling. he can already feel the veins on his cock pumping and twitching indicating he's close.

he growls biting on your neck- he was going to cum so embarrassingly early all because of you, because of how many hours he was holding it at work from your teasing.

"dirty-!". slam.

"fucking-!". slam.

"slut-!". slam.

"mhhhh-! taking it you fucking bitch!" nanami grunts out before he unload his warm cum inside your belly. robs of cum splurt out of his tip, gushing out of your pussy as he doesn't stop rutting his cock in. he lets out a sigh not pulling his cock out as he gently places a kiss on your wet lips.

his hand cups your pussy as he shush you back to sleep.