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irisintheafterglow · 5 months ago

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a kaiju attack spoils date night with bf!hoshina. he is so pissed.

cw: canon-typical violence, swearing, mild angst/fluff, happy surprise ending

"is it just me, or does the vice-captain seem angrier than usual?"

"maybe he's just fired up. there's a lot of yoju for him to take care of," iharu observes, scanning the emptied streets from the rooftop of an evacuated office building.

"you idiots really don't pay attention at all, do you?" shinomiya mumbles under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. the rest of the officers with her stare at her blankly. "it's thursday, geniuses."

"is there something special about kaiju appearances and days of the week?"

"not that i've heard of," kafka states, scratching his head with a finger. "did new research come out?"

"maybe it's because of the full moon," haruichi says and the other men look up at its soft shining light, nodding in understanding.

"that makes a lot of sense."

"but why would that make the vice-captain angry?"

"maybe he's a werewolf," iharu whispers with sincere worry. "maybe kafka's not the only shapeshifter in our division."

"it's date night, you meatheads! the vice-captain's supposed to be off-base and relaxing," shinomiya explains impatiently like it was written on the floors in fluorescent paint. "he's probably angry that the attack came right when he usually picks up..."

"picks up who?" the officers stiffen and quickly fall into perfect lines. you smile at their professionalism and try not to laugh at how quickly they changed their gossiping demeanors. "you know, officers, you should be careful about what you say in regards to the vice-captain."

"our deepest apologies, platoon leader," kaguragi monotoned, ever the perfect soldier.

"at ease," you command them. "you have nothing to apologize for. i'm simply warning you of what might have happened had it not been me passing by."

"understood, platoon leader," izumo confirms. "if we may," he continues slowly and you can see the rest of the officers eyeing him warily. "were we...correct in our assumption as to the reason for the vice-captain's mood?"

"the werewolf assumption or the assumption that only shinomiya was correct about?" everyone but shinomiya reddens, looking down sheepishly at the toes of their suits. the axe-wielder straightens her shoulders with a proud glint in her eyes. "to answer your question, it would be the latter," you answer with a poorly-hidden smirk. "he'd barely knocked on my door when the alarm sounded."

"oh, i bet the vice-cap was seething."

"he definitely was," you confirm, recalling the colorful curses he uttered as you both begrudgingly shed your nicer clothes for your combat suits. i was supposed to take off your clothes under different circumstances, he'd lamented. don't go thinking our night is canceled because of this. i'll finish them off quickly for you.

your relationship with hoshina was no secret, considering that he talked about you whenever he was given the chance. every kdf member on base knew you preferred to keep your romantic life as private as possible to avoid questions of power dynamics from higher-ranking officials. hoshina, however, either didn't listen or didn't seem to care. he happily declared thursday nights to be date nights, threatening intense punishment for the officers below him if they caused trouble while he was gone. a static-filled message from the scouting teams sounds in your earpiece and you dismiss the officers, moving to join the vice-captain at the front line.

judging by the slowly increasing trail of dead monsters covering the asphalt, you find hoshina easily as he cuts a clean slice through a fast-moving yoju. you change the frequency on your earpiece so that you're directly connected to his.

"someone's been busy," you remark, pulling the batons from your back and electrifying them with the switch by your thumb. they hum in your hands, electric blue lightning crackling in sync with the released power of your suit. "save some for me, would you?"

"any other day, i would," he replies and you hear him smile despite his annoyance. "but it took me three months to get those reservations, so i wanna finish this up quickly." another yoju falls, your boyfriend a phantom blur in the darkness.

"are you calling me slow?" your hand plants itself on your hip as you continue to watch him cut down enemies, barely moving from your place between the dead kaiju. "i can't believe my boyfriend thinks i'm slow. here i thought you were my biggest supporter."

"that's not what i said," he huffs, the slightest waver in his exhale the only evidence of exertion. "i'm just faster." he pauses for half a second to catch his breath, and you snag your chance to overtake him.

"hmm, i think i'll take over for a second, then." launching yourself from the ground, your feet run perpendicular against the wall of a crumbling building as you close the distance. you can feel hoshina's attention on you while you dodge the yoju's swinging limbs and sink your batons into the skin covering its core, electricity surging through its body as it falls with a loud thud. "how's that, mister i'm just faster?"

"cute," he admits, offering you a hand as you hop down from the monster's head. you're shoulder to shoulder facing opposite directions and catch the challenge in his eyes as you look at him over your shoulder. "but i know you can go harder."

"go your fastest then, soshiro," you dare. his throat bobs as he swallows thickly, a subtle sign that you'd thrown him off. "i'll do my best to keep up."

---

"so, this is not how i wanted date night to end up," he says through a mouth full of noodles, slurping them loudly from the bowl on your living room coffee table. "and i'm sorry we couldn't go to that fancy place."

"to be fair, the website didn't exactly update its hours immediately," you remind him. "how were we supposed to know the place got demolished in the attack?"

"true, but i made you get all dressed up for nothing," he grumbles, accidentally dropping a vegetable and splashing broth onto his face. "ow." you snort against your spoon, setting it down in your bowl and swiping over the corner of soshiro's mouth with a napkin. "this was my favorite shirt, too. worst date night ever."

"good thing there's this place called the cleaners, babe." he continues to frown despite your unending patience, letting you clean him up while he indulges in staring at you in your nice clothes. you could make anything look pretty, he thinks, staring unashamedly at you wrapped up in a blanket and covering your going-out clothes. "hey," you murmur, gently grabbing his chin and turning him to face you. "i don't mind."

"you don't mind what?"

"this kind of date night."

"but we could do this anytime," he mumbles, avoiding your eyes. you shake your head, pushing away your food and climbing into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

"no, we can't. we don't know how many times we get this in our line of work," you point out with an ache in your chest and he finally blinks up to look at you. "so i'm grateful for any time i get to spend with you, soshiro." his throat bobs again, but he manages to give you a small smile.

"you're too good for me, you know that?"

"if you say so," you shrug, leaning down until your lips barely brush his.

"but, you know," he murmurs and you pull back, staring into his starry eyes. "there's not a lot of nights," he inhales, reaching behind him to grab something from under the couch's throw pillow, "where i get to pull this move."

"what're you--ohmygod." he smirks at you as you blink down at the small box sitting in his hand, covered in crushed velvet and embroidered with gold. "that's-you didn't..."

"i did," he whispers, memorizing every inch of your shocked expression. "so," he pushes open the top half of the box with his thumb to reveal something that sparkles even in the dim lights of your apartment, "please--"

"yes!" you scream before he can finish his sentence, your excitement echoing off the walls as you both break out into wide grins. "holy shit, yes!"

"baby, i didn't even ask the whole question," he chuckles, giving in and slipping the ring on your finger. "what if that wasn't the question i was gonna ask?"

"i'd skewer your head with my batons," you smile sweetly and he hums, admiring the jeweled band in the light. "that was the question you were gonna ask, right?"

"of course, sweetheart," he assures you, finally leaning up to press his lips against yours. "you're the only one i'll ever let keep up with me."

"you gonna marry me, hoshina soshiro?"

"i'm gonna marry you so hard, the entire base will know." you fondly remember your conversation with the officers earlier in the night.

"darling, i think they already know."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#kaiju no. 8 x you #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no.8 x y/n #hoshina x you #hoshina x reader #hoshina x y/n #kn8 x you #kn8 x reader #kn8 x y/n #hoshina soshiro x you #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x y/n #soshiro hoshina x you #soshiro hoshina x y/n #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina fluff

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o-batll3 · 2 months ago

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hands - a.putellas x reader

warnings : none !

summary : alexia and reader are in a relationship hidden from the media. reader is a famous singer and asks alexia to have a small feature in the music video of her worldwide hit.

masterlist

you were sat in your studio with your management team , discussing options for your latest hit ‘i’m yours’. the song had gone insanely viral, reaching number one across the world.

‘what ideas do you have for your music video’ your manager asks.

‘i want someone in it’ you say, picturing the scene in your head.

— —

you had shot all of the scenes you needed in the music video except from one clip that would be split into two and repeated throughout the music video. the rest of the clips consisted of clips of your bare back in the shower, hands raking through your hair, as well as clips of you lip syncing in a pool in the nighttime. it was needless to say that the song was a suggestive song, and you knew as soon as your team started discussing a music video that you wanted her in it.

— —

you had been spotted at one barcelona women’s game, dressed in a barcelona shirt with a puffer coat on top layered with a scarf, no one knew what was on the back of your shirt.

your appearance at the game had been out of nowhere and fans were slightly confused why your were there, since you were born and lived in england.

— —

‘ale i want you in my music video’ you say, straight up. as soon as you say it you are terrified for the reaction of your girlfriend.

alexia slightly raises her eyebrows, your stomach is slightly uneasy.

‘you want me in your music video?’ she repeats back as you nod.

‘i need your hand to be in it, nothing else, just your hand.’ you day, watching her face shift with curiosity.

‘what will i be doing with my hand?’ she says, unsure of what to say.

‘i’ll show you the inspiration.’ you say, swiping through your phone to a video you had seen which had sparked an interest in you.

alexia furrowed her eyebrows as she watches the video.

it was a short clip.

just a hand moving lightly up a neck, with the collarbone visible.

‘si, i will do it.’ she says, smiling as she sees your eyes light up with happiness as you hug her.

you knew that alexia was not quite ready to fully announce their relationship, but the both of you had been having discussions of how to make subtle hints and hidden messages in posts, and this was one of the most perfect ways to do it.

— —

pretend there are rings xx

yourinstauser : go watch my newest music video for my latest hit im yours! 🖤

liked by alexiaputellas and others

view all comments

y/nfanpage - IM IN LOVEEE

mrsy/l/n - damn i have this playing on REPEAT

alexiaputellas - me encanta

marialeon16 - where was my invite?

reply | yourinstauser - sorry 😞 |

wosooy/n - a woso and y/n linkup?? my worlds colliding?? what is happening

lareinaaaa16 - am i going insane or is that alexia’s hand…

— —

you smiled into alexia’s neck as you lay on the bed on top of her whilst scrolling through social media.

alexia made a weird grunting noise, making you laugh.

‘are you okay?’ you ask, lifting your head up so you can see her face.

‘how do they know it is my hand amor?’ she said, frowning.

you tilted you head to the side, picking up her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to it.

‘i don’t know baby.’ you say, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she lets her head flop forward into your chest.

she then place a kiss on your neck.

‘te amo’

‘i love you too ale’

#woso #womens football #oneshot #oneshots #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexiaputellas #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femeni

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joelsrose · 15 days ago

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Good Night

writing this was too much - fluff central i need him rn i recommend listening to sweet by cigarettes after sex while reading this !!!

You lay nestled against Joel’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around you, fingers lazily combing through your hair. His glasses rested low on his nose as he read, the soft light of the lamp illuminating the gentle lines of his face. The warmth of his body enveloped you, solid and comforting, and his steady heartbeat was a lullaby against your ear.

This was life in Jackson—simple, unhurried, and steeped in a kind of quiet joy that felt almost sacred. Every evening followed the same cherished rhythm, a melody of love and familiarity you never wanted to break. After dinner—always cooked by Joel, who insisted on spoiling you—you’d step into the shower together, the warm water mingling with shared laughter and tender touches. His hands would linger, not out of need but out of devotion.

Later, you’d make love, the kind that left you breathless, wrapped in his warmth, every touch steeped in passion and care. His hands would linger, his lips trailing over your skin like he was memorizing you, until you were both utterly lost in each other. Then, as the world softened into quiet again, you’d settle into bed, your body curled into his, his arm wrapped securely around you.

Joel would lean back against the pillows, glasses perched on his nose, engrossed in a book, while you nestled into him, your head resting on his chest. His hand would drift to your hair, absentmindedly tracing patterns or tucking stray strands away. His warmth, his steady presence, the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear—this was all you ever needed.

It was perfect—a life that felt like a dream, yet so deeply real you couldn’t imagine ever living without it. It was home, in every sense of the word.

Now, your fingers danced lazily over the fabric of his shirt, the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your touch grounding you in the quiet peace of the moment. Your eyes fluttered closed, your breathing syncing with his, as your fingertips skimmed over his stomach, savoring the simple intimacy of feeling him there, solid and warm.

Joel’s gaze dropped to you, and his lips tugged into the faintest smile, one so soft it barely lifted the corners of his mouth but carried a tenderness that always made your chest ache. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, the warmth of his breath lingering on your skin.

You could do this forever, you thought, the ache in your heart bittersweet and sharp. God, why can’t you stay here forever? Why couldn’t life be this simple, this perfect, with nothing but the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your cheek and the quiet murmur of his affection in every touch?

“You tired?” he murmured, his voice low and thick like honey.

“No,” you murmured, your face now smushed against his chest as you burrowed in deeper, inhaling him—soap, the one you both shared, cedar, and that unmistakable something that was purely Joel. He was warmth incarnate, the kind of warmth that made you want to melt into him entirely, to smush yourself so close there was no space left between you. You never wanted to move, not from this, not from him.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his gruff tone doing little to mask the affection laced within it. The corners of his mouth betrayed him, tugging into that familiar, reluctant smile that always appeared whenever you did anything—anything at all. It was as if you had some inexplicable hold over him, something he couldn’t fight even if he wanted to. And truthfully, he never did.

His hand threaded through your hair, each movement deliberate, gentle, and slow, as though he was savoring every strand, every texture, every part of you. “My sweet girl,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, the words so soft they felt like they were meant for your heart alone.

Yet, they reached you, sinking deep, sending a flood of warmth through your chest, wrapping around you like a protective embrace. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch, your heart swelling at the quiet affection in his tone. You loved being his—loved the way he claimed you, not with grand gestures or loud declarations, but with moments like this, soft and unspoken, but so full of love it was undeniable.

Then, his hand tapped your back lightly. “Sit up,” he said, his tone soft but with a quiet insistence.

“What?” you protested, your voice tinged with playful defiance, though you had no real intention of resisting. You were far too content, nestled against his side, his warmth seeping into you like a cozy blanket you never wanted to leave.

He shifted beside you, closing his book and setting it carefully on the nightstand before slipping off his glasses. “C’mere,” he said, his voice a low rumble as he patted his legs, making space for you to move.

Your heart flipped at the unspoken invitation, the way his gestures always carried so much meaning. Happily, you obliged, scooting up to settle between his legs, your back pressing against his chest.

The contrast had startled you the first time—Joel’s hands, weathered and calloused from years of hard work, wielded an unexpected tenderness as he braided your hair. There was something reverent about the way his fingers moved, weaving strands with care that felt almost sacred.

He adored your hair; you knew it in the way his hands lingered as if committing every texture to memory. He’d tell you, in his own quiet way, how much he loved the way it framed your face, how it shimmered in the sunlight, and how it carried the faint scent of lavender and the outdoors.

His fingers sifted through it now, slow and methodical, his touch so light it made your eyes flutter closed. The rhythmic motion was soothing, like being lulled to sleep by the ocean’s waves.

“You’ve got the prettiest hair, darlin’,” he muttered under his breath, the words almost lost in the quiet of the room, as if he hadn’t meant for you to hear them.

You hummed softly, leaning into his touch as his fingers continued their gentle work, weaving and twisting with practiced ease. Warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading outward like a soft glow. “You’re just saying that because you like messing with it,” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Maybe,” he drawled, his voice low and thick, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine as his lips ghosted over the back of your neck. His hands never faltered, steady and careful, as though he were handling something precious.

“Or maybe I just like takin’ care of my girl,” he drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching with a faint, knowing smile.

And God, everyone knew that Joel Miller took care of his girl. He wasn’t subtle about it—not in the way he carried your pack when you both went out, or how his hand always found the small of your back, guiding you like it was second nature. He hardly let you in the kitchen, insisting on cooking every meal himself and making your coffee just the way you liked it. Your arms hadn’t lifted to wash your own hair in months, Joel deliberate in taking care of you in every way possible, as if it was the most important thing he’d ever do.

If being whipped was a person, it was Joel Miller, plain and simple. He was the kind of man who loved so completely, so unapologetically, that anyone who saw him around you could feel it—the quiet reverence in his gaze, the way his shoulders softened when you laughed, the way he seemed to breathe easier when you were near.

A smile tugged at your lips, one he couldn’t see but surely felt, known to him as if it were an extension of his own. The quiet stretched between you, a comforting silence filled with the steady rhythm of his hands in your hair, the weight of his presence, and the unspoken tenderness that tied you together.

“All done, baby,” Joel murmured, his voice low and soft as his hands fell away from your freshly braided hair.

You turned to face him, your knees brushing his, a playful smile tugging at your lips. The warm lamplight bathed his face, casting soft shadows that highlighted the rugged lines carved by time and a life that had seen its share of hardship. But his eyes—steady, grounding—softened as they met yours, the corners creasing just slightly in that way they always did when he looked at you with quiet affection.

You struck a mock pose, tilting your head and letting your braid fall over your shoulder. “Pretty,” he murmured, his voice low and gruff, yet somehow impossibly gentle. His calloused fingers cradled your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as he brushed a stray strand behind your ear. The touch lingered, unhurried and full of meaning, as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

You leaned into his touch, pressing your face even further into his palm, craving the warmth and comfort it offered. You were utterly drunk on him—on his love, his care, the way his presence wrapped around you like a sanctuary that nothing in the world could breach. Your chest swelled with emotion, your breath catching in your throat as you gazed up at him, completely undone by how perfect he was in his imperfect, rugged way.

The slope of his nose, proud and strong, the scratch of his beard against your skin, familiar and grounding, the lines etched into his face—each one telling a story of a life hard-lived, a man who had endured but somehow still chose to love you so fiercely. He was everything, and in moments like this, you couldn’t fathom how you’d ever lived without him.

“I love you,” you said, your voice soft yet brimming with a devotion so pure, so absolute, it left no room for hesitation or doubt.

Joel’s lips curved into a slow, tender smile, the kind that reached his eyes and softened the edges of his rugged features. His thumb traced over your lower lip, unhurried, as if he were committing the feel of you to memory, savoring the moment. His gaze locked on yours, deep and unwavering, holding you in a way that made you feel seen, cherished, utterly his.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady and low, the kind of tone that carried the weight of truth. “More than anything.”

The certainty in his words was unshakable, like a vow carved into stone—solid, eternal, and wholly Joel. You believed him without question, felt the truth of it in the way his eyes softened when they met yours, in the way his hands lingered as though letting go was unthinkable. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind—not then, not ever.

“Now, let’s go to bed,” he said, his voice dipping into something softer, more tender, as he lifted his arm in a silent invitation. It wasn’t just an offer—it was home.

You didn’t hesitate, shifting into his embrace and curling against him like it was where you were always meant to be. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the comforting weight of his arm draped around your back, made the rest of the world feel distant and insignificant.

His warmth enveloped you, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm that grounded you, steady and sure. As your eyes drifted closed, the last thing you felt was his lips brushing over your hair, and the last thought that floated through your mind was simple but certain.

This is what love feels like—unshakable, enduring, perfect.

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luviwon · 2 months ago

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BEACH SEX | y.jw

kinktober day 20! back to the masterlist here!

☆ ex boyfriend!jungwon x ex girlfriend!reader

; going on a trip with your highschool group of friends sounds all perfect until you find out your ex will be there too. and you feel annoyed about it, that until you end up on top of him with your swimming suit buried somewhere in the sand. “we don’t need to tell your new boyfriend about it, sweetheart”

genre ; smut

taglist ; @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

a desperate whisper slipped from your lips, “please, jungwon…” your voice barely steady, craving his touch. he tilted his head, a wicked smile spreading as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “oh? begging already?” he murmured, letting his fingers trail slowly along your thigh. “i haven’t even started with you yet.” he chuckled softly, his voice thick with teasing intent, making every second feel like delicious torture.

“you’re already trembling,” he whispered, lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “what will happen when i actually touch you?”

he leaned closer, forehead resting gently against yours, his breath warm and steady as his gaze held yours, intense and unyielding. his lips hovered just above yours, close enough that you could feel the magnetic pull between you, yet still maddeningly out of reach. “tell me,” he murmured, voice a low, rough whisper, “what is it you want… from me?”

with a sly smile, jungwon’s fingers slipped from your thigh, trailing up your side with a deliberate slowness that made you catch your breath. “not saying anything?” he whispered, the words heavy with teasing. “maybe you’re enjoying this more than you’d like to admit.”

his touch was too intoxicating. the gentle rhythm of the waves behind you seemed to sync with your heartbeat, pounding in your chest as he leaned in closer again.

“let’s keep this our little secret,” he murmured, his voice a mix of mischief and softness. “no one else has to know, especially your boyfriend”

your boyfriend didn’t even matter in this moment anymore, as the only worry at the time was not to be caught by anyone, lying down in the sand along with your ex partner, a lot closer to each other than you should have been. not to mention the absence of your bikini, thrown somewhere away on the beach, since jungwon did not like to see you covered.

he was in love with your body and he needed to see in its best form: exposed.

maybe that’s why he found it so hard to keep his hands away, exploring every inch of your body now as you lied beneath him. he moved his knee higher, only to tease you lightly before pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, one that has been wanted from both sides for the whole trip.

his tongue moved slowly inside your mouth, not in the way that he wasn’t familiar with the place, but in such a manner that he could remember all the previous moments spent together. that’s why his tongue was not enough to bring him all the memories back so his hand helped him out by wrapping it around your breast, fitting just right inside his palm.

you arched your back when you felt his cold touch against your heated chest, unable to control yourself. but you didn’t want him to back off, even though it was so wrong to keep going, to betray your boyfriend on the holiday you reassured him so much to be just a simple outing with old friends. and it felt like jungwon almost read your thoughts when he whispered

“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?” although more of a rhetorical question, the way he said these words sent a shiver down your body, gulping in response. he was right, but it’s not like you could just agree on that and offer him that satisfaction.

even though you really wanted him to satisfy you all night.

jungwon waited no longer, moving his body lower down, using his tongue to draw a line from your neck, between your tits, all the way down to your abdomen, and when he reached your private, he gave you a last wink that went away with his head between your legs. you spread them apart, locking them around his neck and your hands getting lost in his curly hair. he didn’t even start, but you were just getting ready.

you remember how fucking well he does it.

“i missed this so much” he whispered before sticking out his tongue and licking your pussy carefully, not missing a spot. he was gentle, attentive, focusing on you and you only, recalling well what makes you feel good, besides him. he moved onto your clit, offering it more attention than usually because he knew how sensitive it is and how easily he can make you cum just by overstimulating it, making you feel sore in pleasure.

so that’s what he did, wrapping his lips around your clit to suck on it hungrily, like it was his favourite dessert. you pulled his hair harder, holding your whining back because it wasn’t right to moan his name. no, especially not here, and yet, it was so risky but it felt so… rewarding. looking down at the scenery between your legs, a messy hair boy with nothing on but a pair of boxers. and probably a very evident bulge that you couldn’t wait to take care off soon enough.

his mouth felt incredible around your pussy, like heaven on earth and he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did, moaning softly, hot breathe hitting your wet cunt. “let me fuck you right here baby” he asked on a puppy voice, giving you the eyes you couldn’t say no to.

but you had to control yourself, to be rational and understand how dangerous and wrong this whole thing w-

“please fuck me”, you replied, biting your lower lip. he found it so attractive that he let out a soft fuck and got back on his knees, pushing down his boxers and throwing them somewhere away, close to where your swimming suit must have been buried.

you couldn’t help but stare at his cock, at the way it just stood up before you, waiting to stretch you out again, better than any other guy could. because he was so thick and long, it gave you flashbacks from before and how it reached your stomach with each thrust. you needed that again, and you needed that right now, so a bit of a surprise to jungwon, you pushed him down on the sand and got on top of him, legs on each side of his body.

jungwon smirked, feeling your hips and watching your tits hanging so prettily for him, he wished he had a pen to write his name down on them. maybe you had a new boyfriend now, but you belonged to him still. you were his. and that’s why you wanted to remind yourself of that by positioning his cock close to your hole.

you felt a sense of unease again, maybe it wasn’t right after all. like yeah, feeling jungwon inside you was all you could dream of tonight but how would your partner feel? and how jungwon couldn’t give a fuck about him, he took the initiative by pulling you down on his cock, his length wrapped around by your tight walls, making him close his eyes and throw his head back, biting down his lips to hold back any sounds.

that’s how good you felt on him.

you cried out when his whole dick went inside you, falling on his chest, and he hugged you tight in his arms before thrusting into you. you thought you could ride him already but remembering how long it took for you to adjust to his cock every time you had sex before was indeed, a good memory.

“j-jungwon” you moaned out his name, unbothered by who might pass by and who might see you getting fucked by jungwon. even though the sound of that was quite hot. the ocean breeze felt chilly and the moon was shining, while your bodies caused clapping sounds to fill the silence of the whole beach.

with each whine of yours, the boy moved faster inside to overwhelm you even more, seeing how you roll your eyes back with each thrust. you tried to get away from his chest and give riding another try, but grinding on him one single time made your legs shake like crazy, your head back to listening to his heartbeat.

“baby, are you still on birth control?” jungwon whispered into your ear, his movements becoming rather precise and deep than just fast. he wanted to hit every single spot inside you, reaching your cervix. “mhm”, you groaned, scared to open your mouth as you were a whole mess right there, trembling and whining.

“perfect”, he whispered again. he lifted your head up, making you look at him. his eyes looked so beautiful in that bare light, and his lips so magnetic you couldn’t resist but press yours against them, feeling not only his taste inside your mouth but also a warm liquid filling up your hole. you moaned inside his mouth, his hands holding your ass to keep you in place.

he didn’t want you to leave, he wanted you to stay a bit longer, with his cock inside your cunt. it felt a bit too much like…home.

“i hope you’ll leave that loser now”

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard #jungwon links #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #jungwon enha #enhypen jungwon #jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader #jungwon smut #jungwon

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hereforthehitsbaby · 2 months ago

Note

prompt 16 with Logan on the fluff list! thinking that their messing around and reader accidentally confesses and it’s a toooootal love bomb after that

Confession | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2.7k…did I get carried away? Yes.

Author’s Note: Okay but why am I sobbing at my own writing? This request was so cute, thank you for this nonie!

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

“Wade when I said we should watch The Wizard of Oz, I didn’t mean that you need to dress up as Dorothy and act out the entire movie!” You exclaimed in the living room, trying your hardest to suppress a laugh as Wade twirls in front of the couch. The blue and white checkered dress swirled in the air as he spun, arms wide out as he threw his head back. In the background, droning on was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” to which Wade decided it was the perfect time to lip sync. Days like this are what you cherished most, especially when things were a bit shit all around. The world wasn’t as safe as it used to be, but in this little apartment – it was comfort. Solace, everything you all needed to wait out the storm down below.

“You may not have wanted that, but they did.” Wade lets out nonchalantly, whispering the last part at the brick wall, causing you to look around him. Every so often he would stare off into a hidden camera, like it was The Office, speaking to the “audience” about what was going on. At first it was funny, charming even – but when it got to be quips about you, it was almost instinctive how you needed to roll your eyes. Now? It was just another thing about Wade you admired, how he could keep himself entertained like this and forget how things were outside, there was no judgement but pure love and laughter. Shaking your head with a smile, you sigh out as you stand from the couch, stretching your back. “Whatever you say, Wade.” As you felt your tailbone crack, you smiled softly at the release. It felt nice to get up and walk, to stretch out a bit before engaging more with Wade’s antics of today. It was endearing to see him doing this – you knew everything was getting to him as well, and you both needed a good laugh. What you silently hoped for though, was for Logan to join the two of you.

It was obvious your feelings for him, Wade called that out the second you both first met. The way your eyes went from thin slits of weariness to full blown hearts was enough to make his head spin – Logan on the other hand seemed to have no effect. But that’s what he wanted you to think. It had been months since your apartment flooded, causing you to move two floors up with Wade, Logan, Laura and Al. But it had been the best months of your life, creating new friendships and hoping to blossom out of the awkward phase with Logan. A stoic, quiet man who truly needed this – needed a friend – needed to know he was loved. You wanted to help him with that, if only you could get over this little hump of self-doubt. It was a silent battle you faced internally; Rejection scared you and hurt more than anything else – but you’d respect the decision if it happened. The struggle was the worst part of it, how it ate you alive. Wade would always try to help quell it but alas, your mind could be very fickle.

As you made your way into the kitchen, you rounded the counter, back facing towards the living room as you hummed along with the song. Lost in your own little world, you didn’t notice when the bedroom door to the left started to slowly open, your head down to face the coffee maker as you stuck your mug underneath, using the hot water for your tea. It wasn’t until you saw something sparkling out of the corner of your eye that it caught your attention. You knew Mary Puppins had a flashy little get up, since Wade spent four days bedazzling her suit, but then you remembered Laura had taken her out for a walk a few minutes prior. Cocking your brow, you turn slowly to see what that shine is – not expecting to see what you did. “Holy shit,” you mumble out, your eyes shooting wide open. There was no proper way to react except shocked, your body freezing at the sight.

Logan was home after all, hiding away in his room. But what you didn’t realize was that Wade had gotten him to dress up for the movie. Standing there in his gray and black flannel, gray sweatpants, and white socks was your Logan – face covered in silver face paint, sparkling against the orange hued lighting of the kitchen. You stopped to stare at him, admiration making your heart grow as Wade let out a dramatic gasp, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. “Robocop has arrived!” Wade cheered, hoping over the back of the couch and standing on the opposite side of the kitchen. At the comment, Logan growled in Wade’s direction, sending him straight daggers. “Don’t give me that look, Pookie. You know what you signed up for.”

Logan could help but groan as his gaze shifted back towards you; The silvery color making his eyes glow brighter than usual. A soft green, like a meadow on a cloudy day always stared back at you. But today, it was Emerald City. The glints of golden flecks and little silvery tendrils drifted through his irises, causing your heart to race. You didn’t mean to gaze so deeply into his eyes, finding your own eyes losing focus the further you delved in. You couldn’t tell but Logan’s heart was racing a mile a minute under his shirt, his claws quivering inside his hand. “You’re taking shine bright like a diamond to a whole new level, Lo.” You let a bright smile cascade over your lips as you looked up at him, tilting your head to the side to admire his application skills. Under all the silver you could see a gentle pink blush creeping up his neck, fanning over the little exposed patch of skin beneath his flannel. It wasn’t everyday that Logan blushed – but with you, he couldn’t stop. Even at your teasing, he was a mess.

“His idea.” Logan snickered as he pointed to Wade. “Dipshit told me we were all dressing up as characters.” Of course he did, because that is just how Wade is. He always says one thing, then never tells anyone else. In a way you knew he said it for you, knowing this was your favorite movie and all. To have Logan dress up like the tinman was all for you. A simple admission you made not too long ago about how he was your childhood crush; Convincing Logan to dress up as him only seemed right. Wade could tell you both were mutually pining over one another, and he was tired of the will they won’t they. All he knew was that he wanted his two best friends to be together, to be happy; He knew you’d be good for one another. Wade blew Logan a kiss as he spun in his dress, twirling his way through the kitchen and living room.

“Wade you dirty dog.” You laugh as you roll your eyes, shifting your focus back to your now freshly brewed tea. Taking the mug away from the coffee machine, you bit your bottom lip as you giggled, nudging Logan with your shoulder. “When we need a disco ball for Al’s 70th birthday, we will just strap you to the ceiling and spin you.” You winked in his direction as you slightly raised a brow, indicating that you were joking, but also being a tease. Logan liked when you did that, finding it invigorating how his heart would pound out of his chest. A hearty, sincere laugh slipped from his silvery lips as he narrowed his gaze. Leaning against the countertop, Logan crossed his arms over his eyes, his lips turning up into a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah? You think so, beautiful?” He let out without question, tilting his head to the side as he eyed you up and down. He could hear, smell, how hard your heart was racing as he leaned closer, how your palms grew clammy, how your body shivered under his gaze. There was something so primal clawing its way beneath his skin; He wanted all of you, to be the only one to make you feel this way. “I know so!” You shot back without hesitation, trying to keep your cool.

Logan thought it was cute, how hard you were trying to fight yourself off. Trying so hard not to spill the beans or say what was on your mind. It was a game of hardball, and Logan was going to come out on top like always. Huffing with amusement, he placed his hand softly on your shoulder, letting his wade palm graze down your arm, fingers drifting over the expanse of your wrist. Leaning closer to you, only a hairsbreadth away, Logan whispered as he held your hand lovingly. “Well what if I…” You were so entranced with how he was coming onto you, months of tension finally reaching its peak as the knife cut through it, releasing that hold on you. Closing your eyes as you prepped yourself for what he was about to do next, you pursed your lips instinctively, waiting to feel him on you. Alas, that never came.

In a singular second, Logan roughly pulled you close to him as he rubbed his face all over yours. The burn of his beard across your cheeks made you yelp out, the slippery feel of the face paint flowing over your skin made you laugh. A fit of giggles and playful pushing ignited the room, filtering out the sound of Mary Puppins and Laura coming back from their walk. You couldn’t breathe from how hard you were laughing, trying to muster up the energy to speak as Logan held you close to him. Though you felt his touch burning through your clothes, not one of a friendly nature but one of pure passion. The way he gripped your hip with one hand, and the side of your neck with the other. The way his face slid over yours, it was pure love. Your mind was reeling with endless thoughts of what it would be like to be in love with Logan, never realizing how you spoke aloud. “Ohmygod, I’m in love with an adult man-child.” The words fell out before you had anytime to think about it, not realizing what you had said as you fought yourself through the giggle fit. You didn’t realize what had come out, until Logan stopped.

The tension in the air was palpable, your heart pounding in your ears as you caught your breath. Logan stopped the ministrations on your face, his grip to your neck and hip growing harder, steadier as his breathing picked up. “In love!?” Wade and Laura yelled out from the living room, Mary Puppins gave a little bark as well. In that moment you stopped, your eyes growing wide as you panned upwards. “In love?” Logan asks, his eyes turning from a vibrant green shade to mocha, his pupils blackened. Meeting his gaze, you swallowed back the words I’m kidding, because in reality you were not. It was out there now, there was no taking it back even if you had tried. There wasn’t anything that would make this moment easier to digest, it was all or nothing. “Shit.” That was your only response. The movie in the background grew quiet. Laura, Wade, and Mary Puppins stared at you with wide eyes, trying to process it themselves. Al on the other hand sat by the open window and laughed, keeping his head towards the street below.

All you wanted to do was run; Fight or flight kicking in made you want to scream. It wasn’t the way you announced it that made you scared, nor nervous – but how Logan was staring at you. His once playful demeanor was now clouded with something unreadable, enough to make tears well in your eyes. At the end of the day, if he didn’t feel the same there were no hard feelings, and you both could live with that. But right now, you wanted to be alone, to calm down from the panic rising in your chest. “No, no running away.” Logan whispered for you, and you only. His hardened grip on your neck moved to gently hold your face, his thumb sweeping against your cheek. He could see the fear in your eyes, the unknowing – he wanted to settle that for you. Logan leaned forth to press his forehead against yours. The switch of Logan gave you whiplash; Usually he wasn’t this affectionate with his actions, always keeping to himself, not thinking himself worthy of love. But today, that all changed. “Sweetheart…do you mean that?” Logan’s voice broke slightly as he asked, his own eyes welling with tears.

“Of course she does! She’s in lov-“ Wade began, not even giving you a second to explain yourself. Logan grew tense at hearing him speak. He never pushed his face away from yours as he growled out into the room. “Shut the fuck up!” A shiver ran down your spine at the dominance in his voice, your hands instinctively going out to hold onto his hip as you steadied your breathing. “Ohhh my god,” was all Wade could respond with as he sunk back into the couch, Laura holding her hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything more. It was now or never; Forever hold your peace or tell Logan how you really felt and see where it led from there. Taking a deep breath, you nodded against Logan’s forehead, a shaky breath exhaling from your parted lips. “I do.” The words felt right coming out, there was no line of awkwardness or reluctance to them. It was the truth, and now it was known.

You refused to open your eyes as stare at Logan, hearing the deep inhalation he made at your comment. You knew if you opened your eyes tears would fall, and you were not about to have that. Nothing came to mind on what you could say, nor could you move from where you were planted. Internally you begged someone to say something, to break the silence. Logan must’ve heard your internal thoughts. “Finally, didn’t know how long we were going to play that game, sweetheart.” Logan let out, causing you to open your eyes. He extended himself to his full height as he held your face, peering down into your soul with a genuine, loving smile. It was in that moment his words fully clicked inside of your brain, the mutual pining was over. “I’ve been in love with you since day one. I could tell you were too, but I didn’t want to come on too strong, if you weren’t ready. I wanted it to be on your terms, when you felt it was right.” Logan’s word held you tightly, holding you close to show you just how loved you are, how cherished you are, how appreciated you are. You could tell Logan had more he wanted to say but, actions speak louder than words.

Surging forth, you pressed your lips lovingly against Logan, feeling how the world faded around you. The dull, orange lighting of the kitchen burnt out around you. The hum of the coffee maker, fridge, and lights became silent. The only thing that could be heart was your heartbeats, merging into one. Around you swirled endless love and possibilities, flecks of the brightest yellows and blues flowing out like clockwork, binding you two together. This feels so right. Everything felt so right. Logan felt so right. Nothing in life ever felt like this, nothing ever felt meant to be. Only now did you realize, the love you have been waiting your entire life for, finally arrived. In the form of Logan Howlett, The Wolverine. Your hero.

-----

Hugh Jackman Taglist: @anamiad00msday @coowayeoo

Logan Howlett Taglist: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444

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rinnstars · 2 months ago

Text

just right!

you think youre too much for rin, and rin thinks hes too little for you

itoshi rin x reader: pre-rs, friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst w comfort, fluff at the end!!!!, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated <3

its fate you think for things to remain the same with rin. after all, why wish for more? the hands that lay beside each other as you sit on the bench eating your lunch that seems to almost touch to start an electric shock that course through your body, the conversations that tiptoe the line between just friends to something much closer to soulmates the way yours and his brain seem to sync perfectly as one, the way the universe seem to put you two in the same orbit from going to the same school, to moving to the same neighbourhood, to sitting next to each other every class every semester - you should be satisfied, no you should be thankful for the luck that you must have gotten from finding a four-leaved clover the same day you met rin at the playground you think.

to anyone else, hell even to you, you two are no peas in the same pod. youre the polar opposite of him - you make friends easily like its second nature (but in your heart, they just don’t merge as well as you do with rin), you smile at every single thing, laughter bursting out of you without a single hesitation (but with rin, you think its your real laughter that flows out rather than out of politeness or awkwardness), you dress a little too eccentric with different and contrasting colours against the plain and boring uniform that seems out of place. and he’s the polar opposite of you - he practically hangs out with out because he has no one else (that makes you wonder if he’s just here because he has no one else), he has a resting frown on his face (that you think makes him even more adorable from the side of your peripheral vision), and he always wear that boring black bag that matches perfectly with the plain old school uniform.

sometimes you wonder if youre too much - you talk a little too much that you think his lips hide a grimace when it moves just a little from the frown that is always held tightly on his face, you ask too much, always wanting to hang out after school right before he has to run to football practice, you think too much, always asking questions that seem to make his face scrunch up in confusion during class or at the bench as you are right now. to anyone, this would be ideal right? its practically the dynamic being pushed in mangas and online - golden retriever with a black cat, that tiktok trend of okokok and lalala, yapper and listener dynamic. yet, you can’t help but to realise you two really don’t seem to belong in the same world - you long to stay here right in this neighbourhood that you practically memorised each and every store and their owners by heart, you long to just be another face in the crowd writing for the rest of your life but one that brightens and blooms others with your presence, and you long to live in a little cute house opposite that convenience store that you go to school everyday after school with rin, and you know he longs to spend his life overseas being a football stars, he longs to be the new football genius and prodigy in the entire world, and he longs to live anywhere but this town that seems a little too small for him. its ironic, you think, that your ambitions and personality are totally opposite, yet the world chose to put you and him right next to each other, even temporary.

and sooner or later you think, your feelings, that you know are too much for just another friend of yours, will burst - you might yell at him, hidden emotions kept away at the burning frustrations with each hint that lingers a little too long, you might cry and sob one day at one of your regular sleepover and become inconsolable as he realises that youre really too much, or one day you might really unconsciously confess your love for him and ruin this perfect dynamic that has already been served to you on a silver platter. and so you keep a lid on your feelings, you rather write and tear up papers in your room and clean up the mess before he comes over, you rather spend nights alone crying and cursing the world for not making you a little more like him so you could at least have the ambitions that rivals and chases after his, and you rather throw away countless of love letters that you wrote every valentine you spent with him. but for now, you’ll keep quiet, you’ll sit down here with your hands so close that you might just get a electric shock either way, you’ll eat your sandwich that matches with his, you’ll look at him with the same smile that he’s gotten used to as he chews on the sugary-sweet fruit sandwich that leaves a little white cream stain on his lips.

rin thinks that he really should thank whatever god there is out there as he sits here with you beside him, your hands so close to his that he practically has to physically hold himself back from moving a little closer until his and yours merge and fit perfectly like a puzzle piece, your unconcious hum that seem like music to his ears practically relieve him of all the stress that was unconsciously held even after mediation, right on the bench that is practically yours and his the way you and him come to eat here every lunch without any exceptions.

hes aware of lingering glances by his classmates on you and him - and he knows its judgemental and nothing kind to him. the whispers when you come to his table every time class ends as though on instincts whilst all he does is sit down there and do nothing but listen to you, the whispers when he sees you waiting at the library quietly before you brighten up when your eyes meet his, the whispers when you’re with him. maybe its insecurity, but he knows he’ll never be enough. he thinks youre better off with anyone but him - better off with your club members who understand your passion for writing and share with you their favourite writings compared to him who writes simply in order to one day move overseas as a professional football player, better off with your other classmates that actually pay attention in class unlike him who can better help you and do your homework with rather than sitting down at his table whilst he reads another football magazine, better off with even those guy classmates that he cant stand because of their loud voices because at least they seem to match your energy. even more, he thinks hes really a terrible friend, not even considering his crush on you, when he hears you chat about something excitedly only to trail off whenever youre with him, when he feels you pull yourself a little too fast from the hug you initiate compared to anyone else, when he knows youre terrified to say something but he can do nothing but stay here.

on some days, he wonders if you’ll eventually leave him too. he knows its for the better - you’ll get to know other people that can actually care and love you the way he knows he can’t with how bad he is at expressing himself, you’ll get to chat and talk someone’s ears off much happily without any judgement the way that you seem to be unable to do so with him, you’ll no longer have to hold your own personality back anymore. but deep down, he doesn’t want that. he doesn’t want to be left behind again - alone on the park bench with a ghost of you as he bites into the now bitter-sweet fruit sandwich that he deep down doesn’t really like but eats for you, alone on the table as you move about excitedly all cheerily to talk to anyone but him the one beside you, alone in his room having to play horror games all alone listen to the playlist he made for you all alone. now that he knows what it feels like to have someone, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore especially after he finds out how deep it can hurt - feeling as though his corpse sometimes still lay in the winter snow right where his brother left him.

and as he feels the red strings around yours and his finger pull harder and harder as though youre about to run away, he slowly feels more desperate to hold onto whatever little of this relationship is left. he knows logically, all friendships comes to an end, but he has always defied whatever the universe has set up for him - holding onto an impossible and thrown away dream of being better than his genius of an older brother, holding onto am faraway dream of being the world’s best striker right by his brother side and now holding onto a crumbling dream of staying right beside you for the rest of his life. he knows hes too little, and he knows there’s someone else better in this world than yours, after all youre only teenagers and nothing more than that could come out it. he knows he cant give you the world that you deserve, cant give you everything you want right now or maybe even in the future, but hes selfish. and of course its on another boring school day he gets this realisation, when he sees you peek at him without a word, as though you two are no longer in the same orbit anymore.

“you said you had something to tell me right?” a conversation starter, he tries, even though he normally doesn’t start the conversation, and he knows its still not enough, it’ll never be enough in his eyes.

“um… right… i..” and god, did you curse yourself. making it awkward, overthinking it - was that stuttering too much? did it annoy him?

its silence that follows afterwards - you don’t want to be too much to just confess your feelings, its just another day to him and you wouldn’t want to ruin it all selfishly. and in contrast, he no longer wants to be too little, he grips onto the plastic that leaves a little cream stain on his fingers.

“you know.. you can tell me anything.” and god, now he thinks he sounds pathetic and desperate, but your expression doesn’t seem to change from that expression that doesn’t suit your face at all - in contrast to the cheery expression you should always be sporting, you’re biting your lips nervously as though you two are in an examination room instead of at the park bench as per usual. has he messed up?

“i.. wait.. don’t freak out first.. promise?” an warning - because you know once you say it, there’s no going back. a risk you should take, a risk that you’ve seen taken right below this tree too ironically by classmates who profess their immature and yet undying love to their partners. would you be too much? you think ruin has rubbed off you a little too much when your mind tells no yells at you to be a little more selfish.

“promise.” he thinks he sees you smile a little, and he thinks hes gone back to his childhood where you and him first met - making a pinkie promise after you two fell down together to always stay together because it was fate to meet as you both fell down from the parkour part of the playground.

“.. i like you. a lot.” and of course youre too much, youre just a little too dramatic to add the additional bit that seems to slip off your tongue so naturally with countless of practice and failed attempts in front of your mirror in your room before collapsing on your bed kicking your feet and yelling against your pillow.

“i like you too. romantically.” and he thinks hes too little, such an anticlimactic return of love in contrast to all the love mangas you’ve talked to him about - no flowers, no necklaces, no nothing in his hand. but he sees your face bloom into a flower like as you grin, he thinks its alright.

you think youre too much and he thinks hes too little - but together, you’ll be just enough for each other - you both think, your hands and his moving together as electricity flows through yours and his body as though its the world way of telling you that both of you are made for each other, your face and his linger so close before finally you two cross the line as your lips merge with his perfectly as though you two are truly soulmates, and you think perhaps that the two four-leave clovers wasn’t just for you two to be friends for the rest of your life but something more as you tie it to his and yours wrist all those years back, it brushing against each other.

#rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #rin x reader #rin.<3 #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff

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r0ttenhearts · 1 year ago

Text

wasted on you

idol! scaramouche x reader

sypnosis: after an argument with scaramouche he has to perform for a show. the show must go on, despite his mind being anywhere but the present

warnings: angst, arguments, no comfort

“scara, we’re on in 5!”

“i know, i know. just give me a minute.”

scaramouche fumbled with his phone, typing a hasty response and sending it to you. it had only been a few hours since you last spoke, or fought. your angry voice still ringing in his ears, the harsh words left between you two as he left you there. alone.

it was eating at him, the way you looked so defeated. so done.

but you’d still show up for his show, right? you never missed one. even after bickering with him you’d always show. that smile on your face as he met you backstage after every show, embracing you while you praised him for a job well done.

he hoped that would be the case as he stood next to his friends, ready to perform that tedious dance routine heizou had choreographed for the group. painted nails adjusted his mic, a wide smile plastered on his face as he moved with his friends in sync.

his dark eyes scanned the crowd, looking for your usual spot he’d get you tickets for. the memory made him smile, your complaints of not getting the best view when he’d given you a different spot.

his smile faltered for a moment before perking back up as he realized you weren’t there. that comforting presence he’d always find when he felt the most nervous about his ability to perform wasn’t there. the one person he wanted to watch him wasn’t there.

“if you’re going to keep whining why don’t you just leave?”

“do you mean that scara?”

“i can’t even bother to look at your face right now. archons, don’t you see how lucky you are to have me? i could have anyone but i chose you.”

“maybe i shouldn’t have.”

his blood ran cold, recalling his words to you. he hadn’t meant it. he only said it in the moment because he was so angry. so angry about you pestering him. so what if your third year anniversary was on the same day of the concert? you knew how important it was to him, right?

more important than your relationship.

the rest of the concert droned on. he felt like a zombie, the same strenuously practiced choreography being repeated once more to a crowd of thousands of fans. the same songs he’d practiced with the group leaving his lips until they left the stage, heading back to their dressing rooms backstage.

he hoped, prayed, that you’d be there, sitting in his chair and ready to give him a hug. but you weren’t. he was greeted with nothing but an empty room, his makeup on the dresser left the way he had abandoned it. scara swallowed thickly as he pulled out his phone, opening your chat. his heart dropped seeing the “delivered” notification missing.

a dry laugh escaped his lips, almost collapsing at his dresser chair. his fingers tapping on his screen harshly.

scara: (y/n)? did you really block me

scara: this isn’t funny

scara: don’t be like this please.

scara: i didn’t mean it, you know that

he could feel a lump well up in his throat as the “not delivered” notification popped up. his phone was just acting up, right? you didn’t leave him. you couldn’t have. you promised him you’d always be there for him, especially after his mother left him.

it seemed cruel, the way he checked all of his social media accounts to see that you had blocked him on every single one. your bio now missing a ring emoji that you both once had on your profile.

tears welled up in his eyes, fist slamming on his dresser as he thought back to the argument. the very thing that had led to this.

to say he had been stressed was an understatement. with both the concert and your anniversary coming up he was faced with the decision to pick between the two. it almost seemed too easy, but he couldn’t forget the way your face fell as he told you he was still planning to attend to the performance.

you understood, didn’t you? perfect little (y/n) always waiting for him. watching him as he played out his part in the career he enjoyed. he could make it up to you after the concert, anyway. your anniversaries would always come again, but he couldn’t leave his friends high and dry for some relationship.

they needed him! it wasn’t even a question when it came to the two.

but if you knew that, why were you so angry? why did you shout at him that you wanted him to pick you instead?

“i’m sick of this, scara! i want to feel important to you! i don’t want to come second to none for the things you care about!”

“what are you bitching about now? you say this like we haven’t already done something for the other two. stop whining.”

the angry tears in your eyes as you shoved him was not something he was used to seeing. he didn’t think you’d be so upset at the news. even through your anger, your silence scared him more.

“i just thought.. i mattered to you, scara. i guess after three years i still don’t get the memo..”

“don’t be stupid (y/n). if you behave after we can do whatever you want for this stupid anniversary. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? you’re like a dog. threatening to bite but wagging your tail if i give you a crumb of a promise. it’s pathetic, really.”

“i didn’t mean it, i didn’t mean it.” he whispered to himself, eyes glued to your profile that now had him blocked.

“i wish you wouldn’t—“

“are you gonna keep bitching?”

that was the last night he saw you, the last night he ever called you his. he sat alone in that dressing room, his red eyeliner smeared as he cried into his hands. it wasn’t like him at all. he hadn’t realized how much he needed that bond, that intimacy he craved as he’d been lacking in it since he was a child.

maybe then he’d learn to cherish the things he had, before he pushed them away. he’s made a nasty habit of that, hasn’t he?

a/n: i got the idea to throw this together after the ask from @magica-ren so thank you!

part II

taglist: @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche angst #scara x you #scara x y/n #scara angst #genshin scara #scaramouche x reader angst

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brokenmenswhore · 5 months ago

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just wondering if you could write a poly!marauders fem!reader smut about reader being insecure to lose her virginity to her best friends because she has a small bit of jiggle on the tummy, like she's one of those mid size girls and she says she either wants to be a large girl or a small girl because she hated how medium is such an awkward size?

oh you’ve come to the right person 🫶🏻 i’m midsize myself and i know the feeling like no other. i know the struggle, but i also know how fucking beautiful (and how fucking hot) a squishy tummy is. this one is personal to me. thank you for trusting me with this 🖤

midsize | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), biting/marking, body issues/dysmorphia, self-degredation

────── ☾ ──────

Your body relaxed back into the mattress as James kissed you, one hand holding your waist as the other supported himself next to your head. Your fingers tangled in his hair, deepening the slow, sweet kiss as your head melted into the pillow.

The longer you stayed there, the deeper the kiss became. James pressed his hips into you, trying to get any friction he could without crossing a boundary. You hadn’t had sex with any of your best friends yet, and he was constantly nervous that he would make a move that felt like he was pressuring you.

He pressed his semi-hard, clothed length into your thigh, and a small whimper left your lips, catching the attention of Sirius and Remus.

It was typical for you to make out with any of them, but rare there was anything more to it than a kiss, including a noise.

James immediately stopped, pulling away and searching your eyes for any sense of pain or uncertainty. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” you responded, unsure as to what you did that caused him to stop.

“You made a little noise, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t hurting you or anything,” James explained, seemingly reading your thoughts.

“You weren’t,” you assured him, giving him a sweet smile and pulling him back down to you. He took the hint and kissed you again, your lips moving in sync, except he kept his hips raised away from you.

You decided to just say fuck it and go for it, moving your hand to lightly rub James’s cock over his pants.

The moment you touched him, he inhaled a sharp breath and pulled away again. He didn’t remove your hand, but looked down to make sure he was truly feeling what he thought he was feeling. The others caught on quick to his predicament.

“Whatcha doin, doll?” Sirius asked, slumped in a chair, watching the scene unfold.

Your cheeks turned to a slight hint of red, but you didn’t pull your hand away. “Nothing.”

“That’s not nothing, angel,” James spoke, “if you’re ready for more, all you have to do is ask for it.”

All three boys watched you intently, impatiently awaiting your response.

You sighed. “I think I’m ready for, like, it, I just-“

You couldn’t even finish the sentence, you were so nervous about speaking your insecurities out loud.

James leaned back and sat on the bed, giving you your space to sit up, pressing your back against the headboard as you crossed your legs. Remus joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking one of your fidgeting hands in his.

“What’s going on, doll?” he asked, rubbing your hand with his thumb as he held it.

You had of course thought about losing your virginity before, and it was unspoken between you and your best friends that it would most certainly be to one of them. You were comfortable with them, and you had all been open with one another about it. They knew you would come to them when you were ready, and you knew they wanted you to. However, you had seen the girls they had been with, and they were all either perfectly skinny or perfectly big. Perfect, pretty, and a solid size. You thought if they truly saw you, they wouldn’t want you anymore.

How could you possibly explain that to them?

Instead of explaining, the thoughts overwhelmed you, and you began to cry. Hysterically.

“Woah woah woah,” Sirius panicked, rushing over to the bed and sitting directly next to you, facing you, and pulling your head to his chest to give you support as you cried. Remus never let go of your hand.

You sat there for a good five minutes before you started to force your breathing to calm down, pulling away from Sirius and wiping away your tears with the back of your shirtsleeve.

Sirius placed a hand on your cheek and dipped his head until he met your now red and puffy eyes. “Talk to me,” he said.

He really meant “talk to us,” but when you were upset, Sirius oftentimes was so focused on you that he legitimately forgot about James and Remus for several moments at a time. He also knew that sometimes it was easier for you to open up if you directed your attention to only one of them, instead of the overwhelming concern of all three.

“You don’t have to be ready right now,” Sirius said, the silence killing him, “if you’re not, you’re not. I don’t think James would mind if you just wanted to take a little baby step. It’s not all or nothing, doll, you’re in control. Just talk to us. Please.”

You took a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts as you met his worried gaze. “I’m not skinny.”

Your statement caught Sirius off guard. He was so lost, he had no idea what to say. He turned to Remus and James for help, but they were equally as confused as he was.

Remus slightly squeezed your hand to draw your attention to him. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m not,” you sniffled, “I’m not blind, Rem, I see the girls you guys sleep with, and I have self awareness.”

Sirius usually spoke casually, avoiding the seriousness of conversations, in order to keep the mood light. “You think that matters to us? The last girl James was fucking before he met you was Molly Prewett, and she was a big, big girl, but that didn’t matter, because that never matters.”

“Yeah, but that’s also my point,” you continued, “Molly’s gorgeous and she’s large. I’m not just large, but I’m not just small either. My stomach is the worst thing about me. I’m this weird, gross, awkward fucking in between middle size that no one likes.”

James and Remus sighed. They couldn’t comprehend how you could think this way about yourself. They were at a loss for words.

Sirius, though, was never at a loss for words.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Baby, you have absolutely no idea how absolutely fucking stunning you are. You’re in the perfect body for you. I guarantee you not a one of us has an issue with it.”

None of them had ever called you baby before. There wasn’t actually a label on your relationships, so you just referred to them as your best friends. Baby was something you knew they reserved for their girls. They had never said it to you.

Your head was down, your eyes trained on your unoccupied hand that was toying with the hem of your skirt. “You called me baby,” you spoke, nearly a whisper, so low Sirius almost didn’t catch it.

Sirius smiled, “yeah, baby, I did.”

You sat with him in silence for a moment before James interjected. He leaned over you, fingers toying with the area your shirt was tucked into your skirt, a small tug signaling what he was trying to do. “Can I?”

You looked up at James, terrified to let him lift your shirt, knowing the boys would all see your stomach. He could see in your eyes how scared you were, but he remained calm.

“No pressure, baby, but please.” Baby.

“Can I just- can I lay down at least? When I sit down everything kinda rolls and gets even squishier and-“

“You can do whatever you want,” James cut your rant off before it became too self-deprecating, his legs shifting to the side so you could lay your body back down.

You squeezed Remus’s hand, and he kissed your knuckles to let you know he was still there.

James tugged at your shirt, pulling the fabric out of the waistband in your skirt, and your hand instinctively came down to hold the clothing against your body.

“Give her the blanket, James,” Remus suggested, and James turned to you, watching as you nodded your head yes to him.

He pulled the blanket out from underneath the both of you and handed you the seam, allowing you to shield your body. James’s hands remained under the blanket, blindly unbuttoning your shirt. When he finished the final button, he retracted.

“You gonna let me take it off?” he checked.

You nodded your head up and down. “Siri, can you-“

Sirius caught on, holding the blanket in front of you as James pulled your shirt off your arms, his fingers grazing the sides of your hips, causing you to shiver slightly.

You rested back down on the bed, dropping Remus’s hand to take the blanket back and hold it tightly to your chest.

“Remember, there’s no pressure,” Remus spoke.

“I want to, I really do. I want to get over this hurdle. I want to be able to work through this. I’m just— scared.”

“I wish you could see yoursel-“

“You’re all gonna hate me once I move this blanket.”

“Doll, we could nev-“

“You’re all gonna take back everything you said about wanting me and liking me and caring about me and you’re all gonna leave.” You couldn’t stop the word vomit.

“Baby, ple-“

“You’re all gonna think I’m a gross disgusting monster and you’re gonna go find some other girl with a more defined body size to fuck. I try really hard to sit in specific ways and lay in specific ways to hide my stomach and you’re all gonna see it and you’re all gonna hate me. I wish I was either big or small, I don’t know why I had to be this fucking midsize shit. It’s weird, and you’re all gonna think it’s weird too.”

When you finished speaking, the boys remained silent for a moment, ensuring you were actually done before they tried to speak, only to get cut off again.

Instead of speaking, Sirius took initiative and kissed you gently, the sweetness of the gesture catching you off guard. He stayed like that for a moment before slowly kissing across your cheek, down your jawline, and down your neck. You let him continue, knowing if you couldn’t see his face, it would make it easier. You didn’t think you had it in you to move the blanket. One of the boys would have to do it, and if you could lose yourself in the feeling of Sirius’s lips on you, you wouldn’t have to think about what was happening.

Sirius kissed across your clavicle, one hand meeting yours on the seam of the blanket. His mouth never left your body as he slowly removed your hand, giving it to James to not only keep you from pulling the blanket back, but to ensure you had support. He removed the other hand and gave it to Remus, his own hands clutching the edge of the blanket as he kissed just above the center of your chest.

He only moved the blanket a small amount at a time, kissing lower and lower down your body as he did so. He refused to rush you, even kissing your bra when he reached directly between your breasts, never speeding up his actions or moving the blanket any faster than he had been the entire time.

When his lips reached below your bra, your breathing started to quicken, and Remus could see you were close to crying again. He leaned forward and kissed you on the cheek, calming you down and reminding you that you were okay.

Sirius kissed down your torso, just above your belly button, and then removed the blanket fully, kissing directly under your belly button and then across both sides of your stomach.

His desires and intrusive thoughts got the best of him. He didn’t want to do anything that would risk you becoming more self conscious or nervous, but he kissed the flesh of your stomach just above the center of your leg, and he just couldn’t help himself- he gently bit down on your stomach, causing you to gasp.

He looked up at you as you looked down at him. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he panicked, “you’re just, so, so, so-“ he was losing his train of thought as he looked down to where he had bitten you, faint teeth marks on your now visible stomach, his clock twitching in his trousers at the sight.

Because he had pulled away, your stomach was now on display to all three of the boys. You looked at James, catching him scanning your entire upper body before he met your gaze. The look in his eyes was not hatred or disgust, but love. He looked at you the exact same way he had before he had seen your body like this. It was overwhelming. You began to tear up, but you smiled.

“What is it, baby?” James asked.

“You’re looking at me like you still like me,” you admitted, the confession causing you to hiccup as tears free fell.

James smiled, a small laugh of relief leaving his lips as he wiped away your tears with his thumb, “yeah, angel, of course I still love you.”

James didn’t even notice what he had said, and neither did Sirius, who was too preoccupied with staring at his bite mark on you in awe, but you and Remus most definitely caught it.

They all felt it toward one another, you included, but the boys had never spoken it out loud.

You turned to Remus to see his reaction, worried that you possibly heard James wrong. Remus gave you a smile. “Yeah, doll, we still love you.”

Remus’s words are what alerted Sirius to the fact things were still happening around him, despite his hyperfixation on how fucking good your stomach looked with his mark on it. He was distracted, completely forgetting about the gravity of the situation. “Oh, we’re saying that to her now? I thought we were, like, waiting. There was some dumb shit Remus came up with or something.”

Remus threw his hands up in the air. “Fuck did I do?”

“You yelled at me to not say it and then you got to say it first! If you remember, she let it slip to us that one time, and then you were like “oh no Sirius, don’t say it back, what if she thinks we’re making her choose!’ like a dumbass.”

“Actually, technically, James said it first,” Remus corrected.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Guys I zoned out for like two total minutes. Two.”

Their bickering allowed you to breathe and relax for a moment, the attention being taken off of you and your body. They were idiots, and you giggled as you listened to their argument.

They stopped speaking when they heard you giggle. You had been crying for a while now, and to hear you happy was something they all desperately needed.

Remus was so pleased to hear you laugh that he started to peck kisses all around your face: your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips, your face scrunched to protect your eyes from his assault.

“You okay?” he checked in.

“I still wanna hear Sirius say it.”

In his annoyance at the fact that James and Remus had let the L-word bomb drop first, Sirius didn’t actually get a chance to say it you himself.

Sirius placed a kiss to the center of your stomach, looking up at you and saying “I love you, baby, all of you.”

You blushed and smiled at his words. He returned to your stomach, kissing all over before he began to move lower and lower, his teeth pulling at the waistband of your skirt.

You nodded your head to show him you were consenting to him removing the clothing.

“See, usually, I’d leave this on, because you look too fucking good in it,” Sirius spoke, fiddling with the clasp and zipper in the back while you lifted your hips, “but unfortunately it’s covering the rest of this,” he finished, pulling the skirt down your legs and kissing the newly exposed lower stomach.

The only thing between your naked body and the boys was your bra and underwear, and Sirius wasted no time removing your underwear, kissing your thighs as he teased you.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re pretty,” he cooed.

This was the first time they had ever seen you, and this was the first time you had ever been touched or pleasured by someone else. You were nervous, but if you could get through letting them see your body, you could get through anything.

“Bloody hell, please let me taste you,” Sirius pleaded, always insistent on verbal consent even when he was desperate.

Sirius didn’t phrase it as a yes or no question, but you still muttered a “yes” to make it as evident as possible to Sirius that were consenting to whatever he wanted to do.

Sirius nearly growled as he dove in between your legs, licking a small stripe up to your clit and circling the bud. He sucked lightly, gazing up at you and watching as you whined and threw your head back from the stimulation.

Seeing your reactions only egged him on more, and he, without warning, slowly inserted a long, slender finger into your hole. You gasped at the intrusion, shifting your hips slightly in an attempt to move away from the uncomfortable feeling.

He was so enamored by you, and so happy to finally be tasting you, that he completely forgot this was your first time.

“Take it easy, Sirius,” Remus warned as a reminder.

Sirius didn’t seem to care. His eyes stayed locked on you as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. “Shut up,” he snapped at Remus, relishing in the sounds you were making as a result of what he was doing to you. He was being selfish, but he had waited what felt like forever to see you writhing beneath him, and he ignored the fact that James and Remus had waited too.

You let out a particularly filthy moan when he curled his finger upward, hitting a spot that just felt so good.

You had never felt this before, and it was so good, you were destined to not last long. Even though Sirius would kill to see you come just because of him, he didn’t want to tire you out early.

He pulled away, leaving you wet and empty as the cool air hit your core. You instinctively closed your legs, embarrassment settling in as you snapped back to reality.

“Uh uh,” Sirius tutted, pushing your legs back open and bending down to bite the flesh of your stomach again. He pressed his teeth into you harder than before, leaving a more defined mark. He gave himself a small, proud smile, before backing away from you.

Remus leaned over to kiss you, finally taking his turn with you. He kissed down to your neck, biting down gently just below your jawline and sucking a bruise in the same spot. Now that these boys got to have you, especially when no one else had, they were gonna make sure everyone knew it.

“Rem!” you squealed, “that’s gonna leave a mark!”

“There’s already a mark on your stomach, baby, I don’t think it matters.”

“My stomach is covered most of the time, my neck is not.”

Remus shrugged his shoulders. “Oops,” he said, diving back in to darken the bruise on your neck even further.

One of his hands moved down your body, fingertips gently stroking your side before running over your stomach. He made a point to feel every single inch of the skin there, taking a risk with your confidence to squeeze you.

You allowed him to continue, feeling very self conscious but desperately not wanting to ruin the moment. He lightly squeezed the flesh of your stomach, pulling his mouth away from your neck to look at you and make sure you were okay.

He could see you were struggling, extremely nervous about your body, and he kissed your cheek. “Squishy,” he cooed, “I like it.”

“No you don’t,” you responded, “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, doll, the more of you to love, the better. The more of you to worship, the better. I wish you could see yourself how we all see you, because fuck.”

You pulled Remus in for a kiss. “Thank you,” you whispered, barely able to formulate the words.

Remus smiled and leaned back in, still lovingly rubbing your stomach as he peppered kisses on your neck and down your shoulder.

“I think I’m ready now,” you sighed, and your best friends didn’t need clarification as to what you meant.

“Who do you want, angel?” Remus asked.

Your cheeks turned a bold shade of red and your voice became small. “I don’t know.”

They could all see you were nervous about having to single one of them out, worried that you would hurt the other‘s feelings. The truth was, you didn’t like one any more than the other, and you built your own special relationship with each of them individually.

You took a deep breath. “I just need whoever it is to be nice to me. I know we talk a lot about kinkier stuff, but I think I just need this to be gentle the first time ‘round. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Remus said, pulling away and turning to James. He slightly nudged his head toward you and James gave him a small nod of understanding.

Remus stood up, James crawling over you. “You okay if it’s me?”

Even though they were doing everything they could to ensure this stretch of time was about you, you couldn’t help but, in the moment, think about James’s insecurities over your own. James was cocky and confident, but when it came to feeling wanted, he lacked a feeling of self worth. Girls typically aimed their attentions at Sirius in particular, and tended to focus more on Remus than on him if Sirius was otherwise occupied.

You didn’t verbally respond, but instead intertwined your fingers in his hair, curling a few strands with your fingers before pulling him closer, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

You were in this exact position not too long ago, James on top of you as your lips meshed, but things were so much different this time around. Reminiscent of earlier, you moved your hand to touch James through his trousers, a small moan leaving his lips in the kiss, only this time he didn’t pull away or gasp, allowing you to touch him.

You moved your hand up and down, your palm rubbing with a bit more pressure than before. James deepened the kiss at the feeling, lightly grinding his hips against your hand.

He pulled away for a moment, breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I don’t wanna rush you, baby, but if you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied.

James gave you a small smile. “Nothin’ to apologize for. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Can I unbutton these?” you asked, fidgeting with the top of James’s pants.

“You can do whatever you want, angel.”

You unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down James’s thighs. You looked up at him as you ran a finger across the seam of his underwear, pulling them down when James nodded yes at you.

He stood up momentarily, removing his pants and underwear fully before crawling back over you. You kept your eyes on his the entire time, nervous to look at the appendage you had never seen person before.

When he was back on top of you, you tugged at the bottom of his shirt, prompting him to pull it over his head. Once he was fully naked, you ran a hand down his chest, your eyes following your movements as they reached just above his cock.

Your eyes widened, and James noticed, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“‘S big,” you said.

James’s smile widened. “Well thank you, baby.”

“Can I touch it?”

You heard Sirius audibly groan at your question. He was so turned on, the innocent question driving him insane, and just watching this was killing him.

“Mhm,” James responded, voice laced with adoration. He was in awe of you.

You very gently gripped his cock, running your hand up and down the shaft. James swallowed thickly, his mouth falling open as he sighed at the feeling. You noticed his reaction, and the muscle hardened even more in your hand. You started to pump your hand faster, watching James to make sure it still felt good.

“Baby, baby,” he grabbed your wrist, “I don’t wanna come yet. How ya feelin’?”

“I’m ready,” you responded.

James lined his cock up with your entrance, and you felt Remus lean down to place a small kiss on the top of your head. You smiled up at him as you reached out to him, holding his hand as you braced yourself.

You held tightly onto Remus’s hand, looking up at James in preparation.

He watched you intently as he slowly pushed his tip into you. You took a sharp breath in at the feeling, slowly calming your breathing down as you nodded for him to continue.

He continued to enter you, moving excruciatingly slow. When he was finally fully inserted, he stopped moving altogether, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling. You squeezed Remus’s hand, James’s size stretching you out more than you had ever been before.

James began to slowly pull back, only exiting a few centimeters before pushing back in. He continued to push in and out, pulling out further and further before thrusting back in as he watched your face, worried he would hurt you if he tried too much at once.

“You okay?” he breathed out.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, the pain becoming too much. You nodded your head yes, but James could see you were struggling a bit. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing a moan from you as he continued to slowly fuck into you, your hand squeezing Remus’s harder and harder.

You considered asking him to stop, the pain consuming your thoughts and attention, but the moment the pain hit its peak, he began to dissipate. Your body relaxed into the mattress, and James felt your muscles loosen beneath him.

He pulled away and you whimpered, “you can m-move f-faster.”

“You sure?” James clarified.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

James began to quicken his pace, setting a steady rhythm. Your body jolted slightly upward each time his hips hit yours, his self control faltering now that you weren’t in pain anymore.

“S-shit,” you moaned, your free hand grabbing at his waist as he picked up the pace, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. He kissed the spot between your neck and your shoulder, his erratic breathing and groaning turning you on more and more.

With James’s head beside yours, you were able to spot Sirius, who was seated at the bottom of the bed, a hand stroking his own cock as he watched James’s hips connect with yours.

He noticed you looking at him, and the moment you made eye contact, Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as he came in his hand.

James grabbed your waist to anchor himself with your body. He used his other hand to push himself upward, looking down at where your bodies connected. He moved his hand from your waist to your stomach, running his fingers over every single inch of it. “So fucking perfect,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to you, as he watched your stomach jiggle slightly with each movement he made.

You whined at the feeling of his hands on your most insecure area as he fucked you. He squeezed your flesh, then ever so lightly pressed on the center of your stomach.

“I can feel myself in you, pretty girl,” he cooed.

The pressure intensified your pleasure, but so did his words. James was turned on by something regarding your stomach. That very fact drove you crazy. It made you feel so, so much better. You trusted these boys with your insecurity, and instead of leaving, they all opted to love you. You thought they would hate you, but here James was, watching his cock hit deep within you through your stomach.

“J-Jamie,” you whined, and the sound of his name on your lips nearly made him come on the spot, “I t-think I’m gonna-“

“Let go for me, baby.”

You squeezed James’s cock like a vice, your orgasm washing over you as James continued his pace inside of you.

He slowed down slightly when he felt you begin to come down from your high. The feeling of your walls convulsing around him was enough for him to allow his own release, a final few sharp thrusts hitting deep within your cervix as he came inside of you, a nearly-inaudible moan of your name escaping his lips.

James took a moment to catch his breath, his cock not leaving you until he had enough strength to shift slightly down the bed, placing a sweet kiss on the center of your stomach before he flopped down on his back next to you.

“You alright?” he checked, turning his head to you.

“Yeah,” you replied.

You remained holding Remus’s hand, his presence a comfort to you.

Sirius came back into view with a small washcloth, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“You mind if I help clean you up?” he asked.

You nodded your head, and Sirius gently reopened your legs, moving the washcloth in between your folds and collecting the spilled wetness.

You gasped and involuntarily bucked your hips at the feeling, and Sirius stilled until you dropped your hips back to the mattress.

When Sirius was done, he brought the washcloth back to the bathroom, and then returned to your side.

You moved your arms over your stomach, your reflexes used to covering it, but Remus slowly pulled your arms away. “It’s too pretty, baby.”

You smiled at him as he kissed your forehead. “You tired?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you sighed.

James crawled upward, leaning his head against the mattress and pulling the sheets across his lap. He positioned your head against his chest, allowing you to lay on him and rest.

Sirius moved to your other side, propping his head up with one arm as he moved his other to your stomach, lovingly rubbing you.

You closed your eyes and melted into James, Sirius’s soothing rubs coercing you into sleep as Remus shifted his body to lay across the mattress, and four of you relaxing in the safety of one another.

916 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 1 year ago

Text

characters: haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, consensual somnophilia, rough sex, implied poly relationship, minimal prep, lots of cum words: 1.4k

the haitani brothers have fallen into a bit of a habit as of late. a nasty habit, a naughty habit, and, to them, a natural habit.

or so they’ve told you.

it’s become a part of their morning and nightly routines, the perfect way to start and end their days—by fucking you awake, and fucking you to sleep.

they’ve got a sort of system going now, working in perfect sync just like they always do, falling into step with one another efficiently, effortlessly.

as to be expected.

despite his aversion to waking up, ran has taken the morning shift. he’s careful with it, cautious with it, rousing you slow and soft and sweet as he sinks his cock into you, breathing out an airy little sigh against the nape of your neck as he watches your cunt stretch and strain around his girth, as he finally bottoms out, cockhead pressed snug to your cervix and hips pressed flush to your ass, balls nudging you gently.

his favourite part will always be the way your face scrunches oh-so-cutely, features warped in pain—brow crinkled and nose crumpled—the moment he grinds himself into the sensitive mound of tissue, lazy and languid yet somehow still powerful and purposeful. his hips move in precise little gyrations, rubbing quick circles into your cervix until those stringy whines are oozing from your lips and soaking into your pillow, cheek still half-buried in the flesh.

those precious little sounds evolve into pitchy mewls and high moans, stammered by each hitch of your breath with each rub of his cock, climbing in volume and frequency as a dense pressure collects in the pit of your stomach, steadily pulling you further and further into consciousness.

ran presses his forehead to the crown of your head, rests it there and lets his eyes slip shut as he works into you, works to wake you up, gradual and gentle with shallow little thrusts, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging and rolling over that swollen spot buried deep within you—that spot he knows so well, that spot he relentlessly abuses with each and every sunrise, that spot that has you trembling and clenching and crying out his name as your cunt gushes slick all over him—so much, too much, and god, baby, you always make such a mess—sticky and slippery as it streams down his shaft and coats his thighs.

and it’s only after this, after he’s sure your orgasm has smashed through your unconsciousness and left you wide awake with pleasant mush for brains, that he will really fuck you just the way he likes to; swift, smooth strokes of his cock as his hips jackhammer that sometimes have you convulsing on him for a second time as he spills himself into you, a gasp of your name beautiful and breathless on his tongue.

it’s rare that ran will actually get up with you, usually falling back asleep a mere moment or two after he’s filled you with his cum, but him being awake was never the goal. as long as it has you rolling out of bed on wobbly legs and with dollops of ivory rolling down your inner thighs, he has succeeded.

resultantly, rindou has taken the night shift, though he doesn’t always come directly to bed even after he’s got your cream slathered all over his cock and your cunt stuffed full of his cum.

rindou isn’t really sure why his brother bothers with dressing you in such pretty little silk slips and lacy babydolls every evening, especially when he knows rindou’s just going to ruin them, stain them with cum or tear through them with overeager, too-strong fingers, but he lets ran have his fun with you anyway, waiting patiently as ran plays dolly.

but once you’re finally ready, teeth brushed and face washed and body outfitted in the cutest nightie money can buy (sans panties, of course), ran hands you off to his baby brother, often paired with an insouciant remark about being a little gentler this time—advice rindou never heeds, advice rindou accepts with equal apathy.

because as much as ran spews out those nonchalant reprimands and requests, they both love seeing you covered in rindou—all four of his fingers and his thumb, collaring your neck or cuffing your wrist or painted across your ass; all thirty-two of his teeth, engraved into your inner thighs or stamped right over your heart, deep and dark and congealed with blood.

besides, rindou argues, he has to be rough with you, has to fuck you hard and fast and so fucking ruthless—how else is he supposed to tire you out and get you to sleep?

he has to give you an orgasm so absolutely earth shattering that you need to pass out, to slip into full unconsciousness, to piece your world back together. he has to fuck you until your muscles are heavy and your bones have liquified under the immense pleasure, body turned to pliable putty so he can twist and curl and knot you into whatever position he pleases.

he has to fuck you until your words are nothing more that spit-soaked whines smeared across the sheets, until your lids are weighted with exhaustion and your lashes are bloated with tears, unable to stay open as your irises roll and reveal white, until your fingers go slack, cotton no longer tangled around your knuckles, grip loose and weak.

and then he has to fuck you some more, just for good measure, of course, sculpted muscles in his thighs flexing beneath smooth skin as his hips pound and plunge with such force the entire bedframe shudders, jostling your whole body up the mattress, your arms shaking as they try to keep you steady and still while pushing back against his snapping thrusts, his abs rippling with each thrust, his chest swelling with ragged breaths and hoarse groans.

it’s when your tongue is sloppy and your words are messy and melty and mangled together in a single matted stream that rindou knows you’re close—to cumming and to passing out—brain gone so adorably stupid with lust, only capable of stitching together a weeped out patchwork of rin-rin-rin; yes-yes-yes.

the head of his cock is assaulting that spot in perfect rhythm with your cute little chants, that spot that feels so good, rin, s’good, that spot he and his brother continually stain their names into in ivory and cream.

you’re teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when your orgasm hits with all the intensity of a freight train, sending you tumbling over that cliff with a cracked gasp of his name, body gone rigid for a moment as pleasure seizes your form, little sparks of electricity zipping through your veins, blood left bubbling in their wake.

then you’re mollifying, sinking into the bed as his desire melts you to nothing, malleable in his palms as he molds you into whatever he needs.

a calm, deep slumber has already enveloped you by the time his cock is pulsing, pumping you full of thick cum—so much cum, too much cum, always, seeping out from around his shaft to roll down your ass and his thighs in fat beads of pearl, streaking your skin with shimmering streams of translucence.

it’s so pretty, he’s breathing as he watches it with voracious pupils outlined in a thin ring of violet. you’re so pretty when you’re coated in him; his seed, his tongue, his touch, his teeth, stained across the canvas of your body.

and even though he knows you won’t remember it by the time the sun is rising and his brother is fucking his cock into you, rindou takes his time to clean you up—to wash your skin and smooth down your pretty nightgown and swathe you in fluffy comforters, petting sweaty hair back from your forehead and temples, sealing his actions with chaste kisses.

they’re not much, but he hopes they make up for some of the pain and soreness he’s stained into your body tonight—a soft, tender, silent thank you.

he isn’t as good at it all as ran is, isn’t as thorough and meticulous and careful, but he does it nonetheless, because he enjoys it, because you deserve it, because he likes to take a moment or two just to admire you, on his own, alone, in the dead of the night.

an angel. his angel. their angel. pretty and precious and perfect in every way.

they couldn’t ask for anything better.

#haitani ran x reader #haitani ran smut #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou smut #haitani brothers smut #bonten x reader #bonten x you #bonten smut #haitani ran x you #haitani rindou x you

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ichatake · 7 months ago

Note

do yandere kakashi and Obito reacing to reader replacing Rin when she dies. lets say obito gets saved by minato so he knows why exactly kakashi got Rin killed. So when reader joins the team theyre really mean to her and everything becus they cant believe she tried to replace rin. They become yandere after she heals them (she can have medical ninjutsu?) so they really start to like her

Yandere Kakashi and Yandere Obito with the same S/O

Request open! (Request Rules)

A/N: thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoy!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

No one can be prepared to lose a close friend, and neither Kaashi or Obito were ready to lose Rin. It had been a dark day for them, Obito had been crushed by a boulder, which Minaro thankfully got there in time to help him. Then Rin sacrificed herself to save them and herself from the wrath of the three tailed beast.

Since Obito was present for most of the situation, he understood that Kakashi never meant to hurt Rin. Their friendship grew stronger as they both grieved the loss of their teammate. Of course, they were shocked when Minato mentioned they’d be joined by a new member. They couldn’t believe it! The audacity of replacing Rin in such a short amount of time was unbelievable.

Your presence was, of course, unwelcomed. You were a replacement, nothing else. You could never replace Rin, so they didn’t bother with you. There was no point. It wasn’t your fault you’d been placed with them, but they couldn’t help but hold it against you.

Kakashi was monotone when it came to you. You could never tell what he was thinking, and that bothered you a lot. When you tried speaking to him, he’d only listen, but never answer. That was the part that scared you the most. He was simply uninterested in being with you. You could waste your time asking him something, but that didn’t mean he’d actually answer you. You’d simply be harshly ignored by him.

Obito was a whole different case. Kakashi, although straight out ignoring you, never blatantly showed you just how much he disliked you, but Obito? This boy was the definition of obvious. He was the most affected by Rin’s passing, in his mind. She was his everything. How could he replace her?

When I say he was mean, I mean it. He yelled at you, scolded you, berated you, and simply treated you outright badly. He was condescending when you failed and you couldn’t get him to like you no matter how hard you tried. He hated you. You believe that wholeheartedly.

Now, you understood everyone grieves differently, but this was too much. You felt unwanted and unwelcomed. Minato had reassured you several times that everything would be fine, and to just give them some time, but you felt horrible! The only person that treated you nicely was your sensei… it was you against them.

When you trained, you were surprised to see how well they worked together. The loss of Rin has managed to mend their friendship, even if she had died at Kakashi's hands. Obito understood that the reason Rin died was not because Kakashi wanted to kill her, but because she’d rather die than live as a weapon for the rest of her life. Obito forgave Kakashi, and they promised each other they would never hold anything against each other, for Rin. They moved at an amazing rhythm; in perfect sync. They knew where to be and what to do without uttering a single word.

Their teamwork was off the charts, and you were slightly jealous. Why? Oh you know, it’s not like they thought you were a burden or anything. Yeah, every time the three of you had to work together, it would always end up in an argument.

“Jeez, are you slow?! Can’t you see I’m supposed to come from the right?!”

“Get out of the way! You’re messing things up!”

If Rin were here, we wouldn’t have to be dealing with all your mess!”

These were just some of the few things Obito would throw at you whenever you messed up their momentum. You were never good enough for them. You were too slow yet too quick. Too dumb, yet too smart. If you had to jump and you’d jump, they’d somehow find a way to let you know that you jumped the ‘wrong way’. You could never be good enough. You could never win.

You tried, you really did, but nothing worked. You’d be blamed for everything, and they’d say you were ‘dragging them down.’ Of course, they would complain to Minato, mostly Obito, but Kakashi would nod his head in agreement from time to time. Minato would scold them or brush them off. “She’s your teammate, like it or not. You better start treating her as one or else you two will be the ones getting in trouble,” this made them resent you even more.

You got used to everything. It had been a few months since you first got there, so you knew how to handle them. You trained so much and watched them train that when you were in the field once again, you didn’t fall behind. You were predicting their moves to be able to move in sync with them. You had studied them—your obsession of being at the same level finally paying off.

You didn’t understand why, but you expected some sort of praise. For once, you hadn’t been insulted or made fun off. You did everything right; you had caught up to them. So, as the three of you huffed and tried to gain your breath, Minato congratulated you. You couldn’t help the big smile that played on your lips, excited that you had finally gotten some praise. However, the boys never muttered a word. For you, it was a win! They weren’t insulting you or angry at you!

Once Minato saw your progress, he decided it was time for the three of you to go out on a mission alone. You, of course, were nervous. You weren’t sure of how things would play out. Would you mess up again? Would you be left behind? Would the mission even be completed? You didn’t know, but you calmed yourself down and convinced yourself that everything would be fine.

Thankfully, you had completed the mission. You only had to go back to the village. Miraculously enough, the three of you hadn’t gotten into an argument, you had yet to mess up, and things were going just great.

However, all three of you found yourselves in trouble. Rogue ninjas were happy to see three hidden leaf kids, and they were planning on sending a message. They had recognized Kakashi as the strongest one, so they wasted no time in getting him first.

Although wearing a mask, the sudden mist that clouded him had knocked him unconscious. No, it wasn’t mist, it was some sort of pollen one of the ninjas had thrown at Kakashi.

Obito had no idea what to do, but you weren’t going to leave Kakashi. There was a big chance that you would get hit by the pollen as well, but your limbs moved on their own. Soon, you were running full speed towards Kakashi’s unconscious body, lifting his weight over your shoulder. You weren’t going to leave him behind, never. No matter how badly he treated you, you would never leave teammates behind.

As you lifted Kakashi, you hadn’t noticed the kunais coming at you at full speed. They would’ve hit you in the head if it weren’t for Obito. He took the hit for you, and it stabbed him in the shoulder. “Let’s go!” He yells, helping you carry Kakashi as you escape.

Once you were far away and clear of any danger, you set Kakashi down on the ground. You check his pulse and sigh, relieved that he was still alive. “He’s still breathing, he’s just unconscious,” you smile, looking at Obito.

Your eyes widen as you see two kunais on his shoulders, “crap! You’re hurt, Obito!” You stand up and walk towards him, “sit down, I’ll help you,” you pull him down, much to his distaste.

“I’m telling you, I’m fine!” He tries to convince you, but you shush him.

“Don’t be an idiot! You’re not fine. I’ll pull them out—it’ll hurt for a little while, but I promise I’ll make you feel better,” you say, pulling out the knives and apologizing as he hissed in pain.

While helping him, you were gentle. He had never expected this from you. He had been nothing but horrible to you, and yet you treated him as if he were fragile.

You place your hands over his wound and close your eyes, focusing your chakra and beginning to heal the open wounds. It felt… familiar to Obito. He felt taken care of—cared for. It reminded him of… Rin. He gulps and looks at you, your eyes gentle and caring.

He couldn’t help how he felt. His heart started beating quickly as he felt you so close. He had never noticed how cute you were—no, he never noticed how nice you were. How kind and beautiful. You reminded him so much of Rin. Could you have been sent by Rin? Were you an angel he had been neglecting this whole time?

“Obito?” You look at him worriedly, “are you okay? You look a little—“

“I’m okay. Thanks to you,” he smiles, rubbing his neck, “I uh… Just, thank you,”

You were taken aback by this, but quickly give him a gentle smile, “you’re welcome. It was the least I could do after you saved my life. You were basically my hero back there,”

His stomach fluttered at your words, “your hero..?” He chuckles, “no, you’re the hero… if it weren’t for you, Kakashi would’ve been attacked… you’re the real hero,”

You enjoyed his praises. After being treated so poorly by him, it was nice to finally see him smile and compliment you. When you finish healing him, you walk towards Kakashi, placing a hand on his forehead. You wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting a fever because of the polen, “We should get going, I want to make sure Kakashi gets treated quickly. Who knows what was in that polen. It must’ve been really thick if it penetrated his mask,” you frown, pushing his hair out of his face.

Obito agrees, taking kakashi over the shoulder and waiting for you, “Hey uh… (Y/N),” he says, locking eyes with you before looking away, “I’m… sorry, for the way I’ve treated you… I real—,”

“It’s okay, Obito. As long as you don’t keep doing it, I forgive you,” you’d didn’t have hatred in your heart, and you knew how to forgive… Oh gosh, you were so much like her. Obito nods, shamefully smiling, “I promise you, I’ll never be dumb again. Well, dumb enough to treat you like I did…,”

Once you got to the village, you took Kakashi to the infirmary. You waited outside for any news with Obito, and you were relieved when the nurses told you he’d be okay. You didn’t get the chance to see him in the hospital, since you already had to go home. You needed rest, and with a little convincing from Obito, he walked you home.

After that day, Obito was so much nicer. He was a completely different person around you. He treated you so nicely, and never insulted you in any way. He complimented you in everything you did and he even offered to train with you more often.

Even kakashi seemed different. He’d actually speak to you, and nicely. He’d look for conversations and would often stay close to you. Their attitudes had taken a complete 180! You were… happy. You were glad that you finally got along. You were working together, and you were never failing. They made sure to make you feel like a part of their team!

Yeah, you were so distracted by how nice they were treating you, that you didn’t notice how they’d keep an eye on you at all times. How they would often want to take you home. How they would hurt themselves just to get you to take care of them. No, you were too busy basking on their kindness.

Whoops, Kakashi suddenly left his water bottle! Wait, maybe you could share yours with him. You know what they say, drinking from the same water bottle was like an indirect kiss.

Oh no! Obito left his food? Huh, I guess there was no harm in sharing your lunch with him. You’d eat from the same chopsticks, and it thrilled him.

For some reason, you had become their favorite obsession. You were their favorite pastime, favorite topic, favorite person. You clouded their minds at all times, and they didn’t know why. Your kindness got to them, and filled their hearts with some wicked obsession.

Yeah… you were stuck with them for who knows how long. If only you knew that they’d become unbearable as they grow older… and their obsession would become even stronger.

I mean, they were going to become men soon, with new desires and fantasies that only you could fulfill, but for now, you simply thought this was an innocent friendship.

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namazunomegami · 1 year ago

Text

Mélange

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.

CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33

WC: 3.6k

Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest

Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV

A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.

Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.

During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.

There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.

Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.

But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.

He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.

Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.

He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.

Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.

He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.

He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.

And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…

You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.

Your first response is fear.

You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.

“It’s me, don’t panic.”

You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.

“Yuta…?”

Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”

He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.

“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”

He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.

He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.

“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.

Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.

You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.

He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.

He’s so painfully hard.

You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.

What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…

“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”

He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.

It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.

“You’re-“

He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.

“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”

And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.

“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”

His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.

You don’t protest.

His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.

He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.

And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.

“Feelin’ okay?”

Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.

You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.

“It’s… not enough.”

He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.

His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.

Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.

And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.

When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.

He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.

He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.

“…it?”

His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.

“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”

He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.

What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.

He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.

It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.

After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.

However, his cock is still not soft.

“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”

He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.

“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment.

“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.

He apologetically kisses your spine.

“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”

You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.

“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.

You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.

You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #do not perceive me please idk how I came up with the whole cannibalcore pipeline #yuta okkotsu x you #jjk x reader #meesa writes

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