#and smear glitter over top | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 2 months

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Hi! I’d like to enter the Bumble Swipe Right Event! Izuku as my fave, my ideal gift would be a card and jewelry, and i wanna swipe spicy!

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — IZUKU MIDORIYA. swipe spicy: decorated.

about. boom, it’s a match! izuku loves to see you decorated in all of the riches he can afford. he especially loves the anklet that he got you, and the way it dangles when he makes you see stars ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, mating press, unprotected sex, orgasm control, pro hero deku, fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event ! ( closed )

izuku midoriya has always had an eye for jewellery, especially when it comes to you.

whenever he returns from missions, the number one hero is always sure to bring back an item of jewellery to make up for lost time. whether it be a beaded pearl necklace from a seaside town that he’d saved, or diamond earrings from an embassy member abroad. izuku never came back empty handed — even if it meant he had to buy you something. he liked seeing you decorated in the fruits of his success as one of japan’s ( and the world’s ) top heroes.

it’s like his own personal marking, a sign of his belonging to you, and you to him.

yet izuku could drape you in all the glitter and gold in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough to showcase how much he adores you. there aren’t enough riches in the world to spoil you with and… that’s okay. you seem perfectly content with what you have now, especially the anklet he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day. the one with the little ‘I’ and ‘M’ charms you’d gotten with it.

the one that dangles above your head when izuku passionately pounds into you after returning from a particularly stressful mission abroad.

“g-god, i missed you s’much. missed this sweet little pussy. oh fuck!” forest green curls tickle at the underside of your chin from where izuku has nestled his head against your neck, his lips work shades of deep purples and midnight blue/ into the saltiness of your skin — teething and biting at its soft expanse until you’re decorated with a necklace of love bites. “you…oh angel…you get so tight when i fold you up like this,” he laments in satisfaction, feeling your sluice and sloppy sex ripple around his thick cock with every calculated thrust. “you must have really…really missed me.”

the pro hero uses the strength he’s built up over the ears to fuck into you properly — the force behind his hips sending you jolting up the bed. when he pulls away from the loving assault on your neck, a pinkish hue mingles with the galaxy of freckles dotted across deku’s face, cheeks pink from the exertion. his cockhead is in no better condition, bright red, angry and hot as it smears precum along your ravaged walls.

“m-missed you s’much izu, please!”

as a reward, he bullies you nice and open for him — heavy breeders balls clapping against the plush flesh of your ass so hard that your entire body shakes as a result. with all of izuku’s muscle and weight on top of you, you feel as though you can’t breathe — like he’s choking you out from the inside as he uses your creamy cunt to his hearts content. he keeps your knees pressed into your shoulders, ankles haphazardly thr

own over his broader ones which only spread you further.

the anklet he’d given you shakes under your sinful ministrations, catching in the low light of your bedroom while deku makes love to you on sex soiled sheets. “you look so…pretty when i ruin you like this, have you spread open like this,” he whispers lovingly, contrasting with the harsh manner in which his thick dick pumps in and out of your slick heat. “and this, watching it sway from how hard i’m fucking you…angel, all of it drives me insane.” izuku’s nose nudges it’s way up your calf, plump pink lips teasingly making their way up to the golden anklet dangling from your foot.

rhythmic thrusts soon because salacious grinds, izuku never relenting on how he deep he fucks into you. all you can do is lay there uselessly, taking cock, taking praise, taking love from midoriya as he puts his all into making you reach cloud nine. his thumb draws circles over your cute clit, his hooded evergreen eyes trained on the way your pussy pulsates and spurts little streams of juices around him. as though she’s laying her claim on his thick, shaft covered with spiralling blue veins.

opaque white paints izuku’s tummy, a crude mix of his precum and your sweet nectar smearing over his abdomen contracting as it contracts against your sex. “think i’m gonna cum,” you wail sweetly, keening into his touch as you look up at your pro hero boyfriend with big wet eyes. “please let me cum. please ‘zu, i’ll be good!”

izuku only tuts in response, kissing your ankle before he takes the chain of your anklet between the perfect rows of his pearly white teeth.

“you’ll cum when i say so, angel.” the green haired hero drawls softly, yet condescendingly. he makes extra effort in showing off his award winning smile with the chain in his mouth in order to distract you from the slight change in the way deku angles his hips — his bulbous and leaky cockhead never leaving your sticky g-spot. “and i’m far from done with you, tonight.”

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arminsumi · 6 months

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I LOVE YOUR WRITING OMG ITS SOO GOOD !! 🤍🤍

i wanted to req doing a skincare routine w gojo, like asking him to lay down so you could do it. if that makes sense 😭😭

(i thought it would be so cutee !! pref a fem reader)

NIGHTS LIKE THESE

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru just enjoying getting pampered by his wife.

[ Note ] : ahhh u are so very kind 😖💗 i lovee the idea of skincare w gojo sm!! he deserves to be pampered like a royal puppy

He's all for it when you suggest doing a skincare routine on him. I mean, laying down and letting your soft hands work out the tension in his face with some nice smelling products? Yes, please. That's exactly what he needs on a Friday night after teaching martial arts to his students all day.

"What's this?" he asks for each product in your hands. He doesn't eye them out suspiciously, he just accepts whatever you're putting on his face.

He's in this love-ditzy state tonight... oh, maybe it's just the strong blossom scent flooding in through the windows putting him in that state.

"This is a face mask... I'll put it on, then peel it off in fifteen minutes..." you're murmuring slowly, voice soft as you focus on smearing the sparkly gelatinous liquid over the curve of his cheek."

"Mmm..." he hums in acknowledgement to what you said, eyes closing.

His hair is put out of the way by a pink makeup headband; it's the one he bought for you at the beginning of the year, that Sailor Moon one. It just has a crescent moon on the center.

Satoru wiggles his feet and rests his finger-locked hands on his stomach, relishing in the attention you're giving him.

There's a serene silence as you apply the face mask with carefulness — you're trying to make it that perfectly rounded mask.

"... you're so gentle." Satoru comments, smiling to himself. "It's nice... getting pampered by my pretty wife. I think this is the meaning of life." he says in a low rasp. You can hear how tired he is after teaching all day in the hot sun.

"What, the meaning of life is... getting a face mask put on you?" you chuckle.

"Being with you." he replies.

You soften your brows and look down at him with love. He's still got his eyes closed so he can't see your loving look. It's okay. He can feel your love radiating.

"Well aren't you sappy..." you tease. He smiles.

He knows he's sappy, but you like it, don't you? And he means it. His meaning of life is being with you.

"I'm done, by the way."

"OOH let me see."

He checks his reflection in his phone camera, and you know snaps a picture with you while he's at it. You complain that he's gotten your bad side, and that he has to take it again, but he's giggling like a mischievous kid.

You sigh and look at him. "Of course... of course you look good in a face mask."

"Uhhh yeah duh I look good in everything." he responds cockily, then adds, "... you look good in everything, too."

"Ah shut it!" you giggle, and the sound makes his heart lurch.

"Mmm, it's true." he leans in, giving you a lopsided kiss, "Thank you, baby. Anyways... this stuff smells so good... is it edible?"

"No, it's not. So don't eat it."

He eats a little to mess with you. Then scrunches his whole face at the chemical taste.

"Satoru why are you like this." you shake your head. "Anyways... I'll cut some cucumbers for your eyes." you say, turning to the tiny cutting board that you put on top of a pillow.

"Yay, cucumber time." he says like a five-year-old. "It's not bigger than mine, is it?" he eyes out the cucumber you're taking into your hands.

"Satoru!" you laugh scoldingly.

He lets you cut the cucumber in peace, not wanting to talk in case he distracts you. But the way he stares at you, with his fists tucked under his chin and that star-struck look in his eyes, he distracts you anyways, and you nearly slice your finger.

Satoru's a different kind of beautiful. That's apparent from the first time you meet him, but you realize it during times like this; when you're snuggled up in your dim-lit bedroom. The clear face mask glitters a bit, you can see it drying.

"Don't touch it. It's drying."

"Sorryyy."

You shake your head at him. Then you catch him trying to touch his face again.

"Ooh, I can feel the little stars in it."

"Satoru, let it dry. Lay back. I'm covering your eyes..."

"... ooh, kinky."

You sigh, he smiles — he's so happy that he can be an absolute idiot around you and yet you still love him. How'd an obnoxious idiot like him get a tender, loving woman like you? I guess, 'cause he's god's favorite, I mean... with the Six Eyes and Limitless bestowed on him, of course he'd be sent an earth angel too, just to protect his sanity. You're very much his sanctuary, the refuge he seeks when responsibility whips his back.

The soothing cucumber slices cover his eyes now.

Laying and letting you pamper him like this makes him feel so at peace, he's becomes drowsy, and soon falls asleep. Soft snores sound from him. He's so utterly soft and gentle while he sleeps, you wouldn't think he's the strongest.

You decide to not wake him, and just peel the face mask off him gently once the fifteen minutes passes.

He just sleeps like a baby while you finish the routine. A soft, radiant glow adorns his cheekbones. His chest rises and falls like a calm tide.

That's your husband; a hyper, sleep-deprived, overworked and overburdened man who lives for the nights you do these sweet things with him.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#fluff #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #cute #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader

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dollwritesarchive · 1 year

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𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 — 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐳𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐛, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐨 & 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut headcanons ( minors dni ), fem!reader, grinding, dry humping, begging, ab riding, over the panty stimulation, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

Beel always gets a little dazed when you say “Please, baby, I need you.” real sweet and straddle his lap. you’re still sleepy from a nap, clad in little more than his oversized muscle top and your panties.

like he’s awestruck; he just can’t believe something so pretty and needy exists.

“I’m almost done with these reps and then I’ll play with you after—“ he starts to say, jaw clenching as he grips the massive barbell with both hands, splayed out on the bench.

but you can’t help it, the way his chiseled form is laid out for you, and the diamonds of sweat against his temple and sparkling against the deep valleys of his abs has you purring, inching up higher on his lap, gripping his hands with your much smaller ones to hold on to the bar. you glide over his abs with ease, the firmness of the ridges rubbing through the thin, cotton lingerie to rouse your clit to life.

“Not after,” you pout, and he pauses, watching you grind into his bare torso, “now.”

at first, a cherry blush overtakes his cheeks. the visage of your arms above your head, holding on to his hands on the bar, keeping them and the barbell itself in place while your hips oscillate, dragging your core over his damp midsection until you start to soak a patch through them, and your eyes glittering with need and lust all but leaving him speechless— breathless.

“Okay.” was what he musters after a moment of awed staring, and when you mewl and snap your hips forward to ride the wave of his stomach, his own jut forward, muffling a low grunt. he must’ve been rock solid in his gym shorts by now. you would’ve bet a million Grimm that his base instincts had kicked in, and that all of the snorting he was doing as he lay back was the same reason his pupils were blown out black: he could smell your arousal and it was driving him crazy, too.

his eyeline falls to watch your grinding, becoming utterly mesmerized by the way you rock back and forth, and the damp bleeding through your panties. “You’re so wet.” he exclaimed in a breathy, half grunt, “Does it feel that good?”

and you nod, your nails biting into the backs of his hands as your pace quickens. your knees spur into his ribs, planting you firmly in place so you can strum yourself silly on his abdomen. “I’m so… so sensitive,” you whimper, rolling your body to focus all of the pressure on to your swollen, greedy clit, your eyelids flutter when it scrapes over one mountainous muscle pad, “Need— need to cum… Beel…”

“Should I—“

but you shook your head, fervent, and clamped down harder on his hands in case he tried to pull them from the bar. “Don’t,” you whine, “don’t do a thing, baby. Not a single, fucking thing.” your breath was broken into furious puffs now as you ride him, rasping your throbbing clitoris over him, leaving the sweet, addictive smell of your needy cunt smeared over his flesh. you knew he’d leave it there for the rest of the night, and his brothers would simmer in their jealousy every time they caught the scent. “I’m so close,” you urge, feeling a knot pulling tighter and tighter in your lower belly, “gonna cum all over your abs, baby.”

Beel’s eyes were wide and happy, a speechless smile tugging at his lips. you could tell by how tight the muscles in his arms were that he wanted to pull them from the bar, slide you back down to grind his cock against your soaking panties, but he doesn’t. instead, his hips rock back and forth, fucking the air in anticipation. “I wanna see…” he mumbles, fists now tight around the barbell. “Cum all over me, pretty girl.”

you had been so patient all night, sitting pretty, allowing Diavolo plenty of time to tend to the needs and concerns of those who reside in the Devildom, and there had been many.

however, by the time dinner was coming to a close, your patience was wearing thin.

it was his fault, you decided, for looking so dapper in his suit— not a single hair out of place, and smelling like vanilla bean and smoke. his fault for holding his big, warm, strong palm resting on your bare thigh underneath the slit of your skirt the whole time. his thumb grazing the silken flesh he found there.

you could tell that it was his way of apologizing for so little quality time spent with you today.

maybe you weren’t being as patient as you thought, after all. maybe he could see the desire to grab him and escape every time someone called his name. maybe you were huffing, and closing your eyes to keep from rolling them.

maybe Diavolo’s gentle circles against your leg was to calm you down.

but it was doing the opposite.

because his warmth was so damn close to your treasure now, so you stealthily glanced down at it, swallowing a gulp from your glass around the growing lump in your throat.

his paw is massive, and splayed out over the majority of your thigh, so you shift in your seat, opening your legs wider.

when his hand slides closer to your core, he casts you a warning glance, but you’re already staring at him from behind the glass you sipped from, brow quirked.

Diavolo chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyeline slowly dropping downward so as not to attract the attention of the dinner guests, but they become glued to your legs as they spread wider.

finally, you slip one hand under the table and grab hold of his wrist, guiding his to your panties, pressing against the dampness of them so Diavolo can feel how warm you are — how badly you want him.

and Diavolo responds in kind, pressing his thick fingers against your sex, seeking the swollen and throbbing bundle of nerves. when he finds her, he rubs in slow, hard circles.

you’d been holding on to the desire all day and most of the night, so his heavy handed nature against your most sensitive state has you stifling a needy whimper, trying your damndest to be as discreet as possible as you arch your back and rock your hips, dragging your desperate, clothed cunt over his hand.

your nails dig into his wrist, unsure if you want to ease him into a softer rhythm or try to force him to speed up.

but, the attention he was giving you felt too good to change even an iota.

before you knew it, you were squirming on his palm, struggling to keep your eyes from crossing, coming undone in forced silence.

looking up at his countenance was a mistake, because as soon as you did, you spotted a cheeky grin tickling his tiers, gems alight, and crimson cheeks. he was all too happy to play with you under the table, right in front of his dinner guests.

he might have even considered your inability to wait any longer the biggest compliment to be paid to him.

you knew that look all too well— and you knew this would not be the last time he got you off at dinner.

“What was that, baby?” Mammon crooned; a wicked smile etching his mouth upwards. oh, how he did so enjoy when you were under his thumb. “Tell me again, real clear this time.”

“Please,” you mewled, desperately arching your back off the bed, angling your core towards his. you could feel how hard the lump in his jeans was already, and you ached and buzzed and yearned for him to free his cock from the harshness of the fabric and bury it inside of you, “please, Mammon… I want your cock so badly.”

but Mammon only leans closer into your rocking, pressing the protuberance against your panties, one hand gripping the buckle on his own belt as he glances down through unruly, silver tendrils.

he wasn’t even trying to undo his fly and satiate your most primal urges, he only wanted to see how pathetic you could be for him.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy when you’re needy.”

it’s barely above a whisper, breathy and starved, and it only spurs you to rub against him more fervently, whimpering as the minimal friction teases your most sensitive section.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, dragging your core against the thick tent wrapped in denim, brows knitting together. the fabric is so rough that the grinding sends deep jolts of fleeting pleasure straight through the nerves you’re taunting, and your fingers and toes twitch each time, muscles tightening. “F—fuck me already…”

Mammon smirks; the eager begging and the way you just have to grind against him, soaking a patch of his jeans darker than the rest that smelled just like you— marking him as yours only makes him want to torment you more.

but his greediness stands as an obstacle, too, because he’s eager to feel you from the inside just as you’re eager to take him.

“You’re so desperate,” he murmurs, watching your hips oscillate. twinkling and devious eyes flicker up to see the way your eyelids flutter when you rub the right spot, “you’ll use any part of me you can, as long as it grinds so nicely into that greedy, little cunt, huh? Like a hungry, wild animal?”

and when you nod, he scoffs— incredulous at how sultry and shameless you are.

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kissforyouu · 8 months

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pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : college boy!jungkook , fwb , situationship LOL , confusing relationship

warnings : angst , fluff (a lil bit) , smut , boob play , protected sex , aftercare , situationships (trigger warning.)

inspired by August - Taylor Swift

a/n : haiii this is my first ever story on tumblr so😭😭😭 hopefully u like it LOL tysm for reading

u can read pt. 2 here

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

"You're so adorable, it makes me want to throw up." I roll my eyes at his comment, feeling offended at the term he used but also feeling the flutter of butterflies forming in my stomach. "Throw up? why throw up?" I look away with the brightest smile in my face. "Throw up in a good way. I'll throw up sprinkles and glitter all over you", his nose scrunches up, his doe eyes shining big and bright. They were staring right into mine, although I was trying my best to not look at them. "Hey, look at me", his hand grips on my chin as he raises it up to make me lock my eyes with his. I can't stop smiling, neither can he. His eyes travel down from my eyes to my lips. I watch his lips smack against eachother before they landed right on top of mine. Giggling into the kiss, my fingers caress his jaw gently as our lips continue to dance on eachother. The sound of our lips smacking on eachother, our pace growing from gentle and slow to rough and passionate, and the small whines I let out in the middle of the kiss were all we could hear.

"J-jungkook...", his name leaves my mouth in a small whine. He hums into the kiss, his long fingers now tangled in my hair. His hand travels down to my shoulder, then to the strap of my top before he lazily pulls it down. Then the other strap. The kiss is still ongoing, very sloppy, I don't know how I still haven't pulled away to breath. I want to, but I don't want to let go of his lips. Jungkook's fingers pull down my tank top upto my belly, my breasts out and exposed for him. He pulls away from the kiss, both of us gasping for air. No, kiss me again. Kiss me till I run out of breath. No, don't stop even after that, keep going.

But he doesn't do that again, his eyes now fixed on my breasts. His big hands now on both of them, squeezing very tightly. I bring my lips in between my teeth, watching the way his hands engulf my tits in them entirely. "So perfect for me, baby" his thumb rubs over my nipple, pace gradually increasing. My hips thrust forward, feeling the heat grow right between my legs. His hands squeeze my breasts one more time before his spit lands right between them, his tongue then smearing it all over my chest. His eyes lock contact with mine as he licks, sucks and bites my breasts and nipples. I do nothing but grip his hair even tighter, my mouth falling open with small sinful sounds leaving my lips. "Fuck, mmh...I could come just like this", his lips work even faster after hearing my comment, head bobbing up and down on my tits. Fuck, was he going at it. His lips tug on my nipple, hand slapping my right breast repeatedly. He finally pulls away with a pop, a long string of saliva connecting my nipple and his lips. "Mm, fuck, that was good" his hand leaves a small squeeze to my waist.

"That escalated quickly" a heavy breath leaves my mouth. "Sure did, baby", his laugh echoes through my room. "Do you have anything to do right now?" His eyes scan my room, landing on the pile of books and papers scattered across my table. "I have some research to do, but it's nothing, I could do it later" I was lying, the research was due this friday and it was a whole lot to write and gather information about. But that didn't matter. Not when I was with him. It's foolish, really, I shouldn't be procrastinating my assignments because of him.

"You sure?" He raises his eyebrow as his fingers go through his hair.

"Yep" how could I say no to him.

He had me wrapped around his finger and he knew that so well. But that didn't matter. We were eachothers, right? I mean, we did almost everything together. We've been dating—talking—uh, I don't know, having sex?— for about two months now. But it's not just the sex. He checked on me, made sure I ate, bought me food, made me feel loved. We're basically dating. Although he never put a label to this.

"Alright, lay back down." His body hovers over mine, tall and broad shoulders showing off. The corner of his lips curl into a small smirk, his eyes landing on the very evident wet patch on my panties. I relax my shoulders onto the softness of my pillow, letting him take control over me. The pad of his thumb rubs over my clothed clit, slowly but too slow. I need more. I grind into his thumb, desperately. "Relax, baby. Be patient, okay?" The pace of his thumb increases before his index finger slides my panty to the side. "Fuck," his middle finger glides up and down my folds, my arousal spreading everywhere. I was so wet. I play with my breasts, watching his fingers rub my clit in the slowest most teasing manner.

"Please, want you inside... Now...!" I pull on my nipples, begging for more friction. A cocky scoff leaves Jungkook's mouth, his fingers drenched in with arousal leaving my clit. He plops them in his mouth, licking them clean. "Yeah, you want this?" His fingers grab mine, brushing them against his prominent buldge. My breath hitches at the feel of his dick, hard and ready to be out. I impatiently nod my head. I want him so bad. "Alright, since you've been such a good girl for me.", he presses a small kiss to my cheek. I watch him as he unzips his pants before taking them off, then finally his boxers. His erect cock springs out and hits against his abdomen. I'm staring. I know I am. "So fucking cute. You do that everytime I take my pants off", blush creeps upto my cheeks. "Shut up. Hurry up now, please." I was impatient and I didn't care about how desperate I sounded. Jungkook's smirk grows wider as he spreads both my legs wider, then placing a small kiss on my clit. "Want to eat you out so bad, but since you're so impatient, fine." He presses another kiss on the same spot before his fingers hook onto the waistband of my panties, pulling them down upto my ankle.

He pulls out a condom from his nightstand before rolling it on his dick. He wastes no time after, finally, I feel his dick run up and down my folds and smothering my arousal all over him. I gasp, feeling him enter my pussy. "S–shit, so tight, baby" He bites his lower lip "How many times do I gotta fuck you over for you to losen up, hm?" I wrap my fingers with his and lift my hips up, adjusting to his size. "Y-you can move now." My grip on his fingers tighten when I feel him start to thrust in and out. He starts off gentle. He was big. Very big. It always took me a moment to adjust to his size each time he was inside me. Jungkook's thrusts start to increase now, his sweaty forehead falling onto mine, his eyes glued onto mine. We couldn't stop looking at eachother.

I love you so much.

Everytime we got intimate, he would always look at me. He'd make sure he could see my face. Always. That felt so much more intimate, it felt as if this is just not sex, there's so much more to this. He loves me. He wants me. But why can't he just say it.

"Shit! Shit!" I moan out loud, the noises of our skin slapping and the smell of sex taking over the dorm room. Thank god my roommate was out. "You fill me up...s-so good! Don't stop!" I arch my back even more when his hand slaps my breasts harshly. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, DON'T—" his hand reaches down to rub my clit, roughly. My jaw falls open, eyes squeezed shut. Both our moans blend in together, creating some sort of harmony. "Fuck! Pussy so good!" I moan even louder at his remarks. "Cumming, mm! Faster!" My eyes roll back to the edge of the world, mouth open and wide as his pace fastens even more. I feel my body tremble slowly under him, feeling myself release all over. His thrusts fastens, his face buried in between my breasts. "Fuck, baby, almost t-there!" A grunt leaves his mouth before his body finally relaxes into mine. His full body weight now on top of me, Jungkook's body shudders as he cums into the condom. He still somehow makes sure not to fully crush me with his big physique. I pass my fingers through his sweaty hair, pressing a series of small kisses onto the side of his forehead.

Jungkook straightens his back, then pulls out with a moan. He takes off the now used condom before throwing it in his trashcan. My eyes are still closed. I don't want to open them, I'm too tired. But I do, right after I feel his lips kiss my eyelids. "Let's get you cleaned up?" He tucks my hair behind my ears. I nod, with a small smile, as he wraps his muscular arms around me. Then my body is no longer on the bed, but on him, as he carries me to his bathroom.

Placing me on the sink, Jungkook grabs a few tissues before slowly wiping me. He knows I'm really sensitive, so he takes his time to clean me, gently and softly. Each stroke soft as a feather, I relax into his touch. "Hmmm, jungkookie..." I moan, relaxed. He finishes cleaning me, then placing me on the toilet. "You need to pee." His ruffles my hair. I watch his naked body leave the bathroom, then the door closes. I pee silently, dreaming about the man who just fucked me rough a few minutes ago. Rough, but so gentle and caring.

After I'm done, I get out of the bathroom. Jungkook was on his bed, relaxed and back in his shirt. He gets up right away once he sees me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Jungkook handles me with so so much care, dressing me up in of my hoodies then gently placing me on my bed. I could fall asleep like this.

"Goodnight, y/n" He presses one last kiss to my cheek before he pulls away. His grip on my arm loses, then he fully releases it. I want to ask him to stay. Sleep with me tonight, please. I feel his figure leave my room.

It's okay. He'll come next morning. He's not the type to stay in sleep after sex. I mean, he's never done it.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of the notification from my phone, I immediately roll over to check it. I already know whom it's from.

jungoogie💌 : goodnight babie sleep well

you : i miss u

jungoogie💌 : thought u fell asleep?

you : no im awake rn 😆

jungoogie💌 : sleep

you : no i miss u

jungoogie💌 : me too, thinkin ab u rn. but go to sleep now, i'll see you next morning yeah?

you : okayy fine :( goodnight jungkook❤️

jungoogie💌 : goodnight baby

Without even realising, my feet was high in the air and I was giggling. He's so cute. I want to die. I force myself to close my phone, then I turn around and wrap my arms around my pillow. I imagine it's him, his big and muscular arms wrapped around my body and caressing my back to sleep.

It was the next day, around 12.30pm. No text from Jungkook – yet. It's okay, he'll text me later. He's probably busy. He did mention a few errands that he has to run today.

I pull my glasses up the bridge of my nose, continuing to type on my computer. I was at a café, not the usual one I go to, though. It was really cute, pink interior all the way. Baby pink walls decorated with flower vines and cute paintings all over. Just the perfect place to relax and focus on your work. It was calming here. The food was good too! Maybe I should come here with Jungkook next time.

Wait—Jungkook?

I quickly cover my face with my computer, tucking my beanie down to cover my face more. What was he doing here? I peak slowly, catching the sight of him and some girl. What. The brunette girl giggled shyly, her hand slapping against his chest in a teasing manner. Jungkook's nose scrunches up, his hand was on her arm. Fuck, I know her. Well, I don't know her that well, but I've heard of her enough to know about the small crush she has on Jungkook. They were so giggly, and she was obviously flirting with him. I don't know whether he was going along with it, or whether he was just being nice. Please, Jungkook. Back away, do something, I don't know.

But I thought we were something?

Alright, that's enough. I pull down the hood of my jacket enough to cover my face before grabbing my computer and the rest of my stuff. That's it. I don't talk to him, I don't look at him. I make my way out of the café without making myself noticeable to him. Not that he would, either way. He seemed way too into the conversation he was having with the girl anyway.

It was about 1.00pm now. Realisation was starting to hit me. Slowly, very slowly, what the fuck was happening. I sit on my bed, blankly staring at my room. Jungkook was at a café with another girl. Jungkook was at a café with another girl. Is this the errand he talked about? Is this why he hasn't texted me yet? Cause he was so busy going on a date with another girl?

My eyes scan around the room, thinking about all the things we've done in here. All the places he's had me bent over, all the places we laid cuddling, my table he'd be under to give me head while I was trying to focus on my classes. Fuck. My eyes slowly start to fill up with tears, the grip I had on my bedsheets tightening.

It's okay, y/n, maybe this is why he never put a label to your relationship. But I swear, I SWEAR, we were much more than just...I don't know, friends? friends with benefits? Fuck, I don't know. My chin starts to quiver, the tears finally releasing themselves on my cheeks. I feel them glide down my cheeks, one by one, then dropping down to my lap.

Fuck, I couldn't help but think of the time when Jungkook was in my bed, my head was buried in his chest as he was trying his best to comfort me. He's seen me at some of my lowest, my highest, and he still chose to do this?

What did she have that I didn't?

I flinch suddenly, watching my phone screen light up with text notifications. It was Jungkook, who else.

jungoogie💌 : hi babie, u busy? [delivered at 1.07pm]

jungoogie💌 : ... [delivered at 1.15pm]

wya baby

jungoogie💌 : y/n answer me?? u never leave me on delivered for so long? [delivered at 1.45pm]

jungoogie💌 : aight, im coming over. better keep the door open.

Aw, did it hurt his little male ego that I wasn't responding. Or was it the fact that he really did care. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he was just using me for the whole entire 3 months we've spent together. Or maybe, just MAYBE, that girl was his cousin or something. Maybe he loves me and he did that to make sure he really loved me so that when he didn't really feel anything to the girl, he'd be sure that he loves me for real.

Y/n, you sound so delusional.

After a few moments of trying to calm my breathing down, it all fails and washes away the instant I hear his knocks on my door. They were calm at first, soft and gentle. But the more I ignored them and sat on my bed instead, the louder and rushed they got. I could hear him yelling at me from outside the door to open it.

jungoogie💌 : open the door

I sighed. Getting up I walked towards my door, hesitantly I grip on the handle, twisting it. The door opened, revealing a frustrated Jungkook. His tongue was poking his cheek, eyebrows furrowed. If I hadn't seen what I saw earlier, I'd get on my knees and suck the life out of him right now.

Jungkook glances at me then pushes me aside, gently, before walking in my dormroom. I follow him after closing my door. He lets out an annoyed sigh, "What was all that about?"

I didn't answer.

"You okay, baby?" Don't call me that.

I don't answer.

His eyebrows press into a thin line. He looked so mad and worried. Fuck. "Y/n, I'm asking you something. Answer me, please? Is everything alright?" I shook my head, pressing both my lips against eachother. I was looking away, I didn't want to look at him.

Jungkook sighs. He's had enough. He gets up from my bed, he's now in front of me with both his hands on the sides of my head. He raises my head up and forces me to make contact with him. "Talk", he demanded.

How do I start.

"Jungkook", I took a breath. He listens patiently, listening to me.

"What am I to you?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Huh?" I repeat my words once again. "You're my Y/n", he says. I scoff. Placing my hands on top of his, I release myself from his grip then back away. Is he being forreal.

"Where were you today? Enjoying your time at the café?" This time, Jungkook scoffs. Both his hands in the air, he laughs a little. "Really, Y/n? Is this what all this is about? About me being out with some girl?" Oh.

"What do you mean, Jungkook? Clearly you were enjoying your time with her!" I raise my voice just a little.

"So what? I can't hangout with a girl now? Oh, come on, baby." He rolls his eyes. He doesn't care. He doesn't care. Jungkook doesn't care. "Jungkook, you just–you can't just...go be with another girl!" I don't know how to put this, I don't know how to say it.

"Pfft, Y/n, it's not like we're dating, are we?! You aren't even my girl!"

I let out a very audible gasp, my breath hitching. It took less than a second for the tears to fill up my eyes and to overflow. I don't know how to say it but, I didn't like how he had the power to just break my heart into pieces from just a few words. And that's exactly what he did. My hands started to tremble a little. I hated how much affect he had on me. How he could make me feel better with just a word, and how he could make me feel ten times worse with just a word. I hated the affect he had on me. But I loved it at the same time.

I look at him, my eyes red and tears falling down my cheeks non stop. My face was already red, I assume. That's when he realised he fucked up.

"Shit... fuck, baby, I'm sorry, I—"

"That's alright. Get out of my room, please." My voice was shaking. But it was so calm and small. Almost inaudible but I'm sure he heard it.

"Y/n, listen, I didn't mean that. Let me explain myself."

The corners of my lips roll up to form a small smile. "Out, please."

"No, baby, let me explain this to you. I didn't mean anything I said—"

"God, Jungkook, please, I need space! Get out—"

His lips crash into mine, hands tugging onto my shirt. They felt so soft on my lips. His lips moved against mine, gently but so so passionately. And that's what I hated about this moment. I didn't want to pull away. What are you doing to me, Jeon Jungkook. With all my remaining strength, I add pressure onto his chest before pushing him away from me. His back hits the wall, he looked at me — frustrated, mad, sad, guilty. I could tell he wasn't expecting me to push him away at all. He looked hurt. But that's on him. He caused this. If he just explained to me without going that far, it would've been somewhat okay.

"I'm sorry, but Jungkook, just..." I take a deep breath. I hold my hands out, signalling stop. "I want to be left alone." He opens his mouth to say something, but stops. He just nods. Jungkook takes a few steps forward, but stops mid track to look at me.

"Call me? Or-or text me? Please." He says.

I don't look at him but lightly nod my head. I feel more tears coming in when I felt his arms wrap around my figure, pulling me into his embrace. He held me tight, really tight, as if he never wanted to let go. I could tell his heart sank down at me not embracing him back. I wanted to. But I didn't. Fuck, it was so hard not to.

Okay. Fine. Fuck you.

I slowly raise my arms upto his waist, wrapping them around his waist. I take a step closer to feel him even more, my face brushing against his hard chest. I could feel his heartbeat, fast, banging in my ears. His body felt warm and secure, as always, but I don't anymore.

You know what, maybe this is stupid. Maybe I shouldn't do this. Maybe I'm overthinking. But FUCK, no, it's him. His fault. He caused this. Right? If he just...I don't know...IF HE JUST...made his feelings clear. Put a label on us. Please.

I was the first one to pull away. My hands were now back on my sweater, tugging onto the ends as I nervously stared at the floor.

"Out." I watch my tear fall down to the carpet. I don't look up at him.

I feel his figure slowly walk out of my dorm, the last thing I hear being the door closing with a loud thud.

And that was my breaking point.

The second he walked out, I felt my knees wobble as I fell down to the floor. I don't have the energy to get up.

For him, maybe all of this was just us fooling around. Having sex. Nothing more. But for me, it was so much more different. I didn't want less, I didn't want anything more — but sometimes, I did. I imagined us in a relationship, dating, having the privilege to call eachother boyfriend and girlfriend — but even if it wasn't like that, I would've been okay.

To live for the hope of it all, cancelling my plans just in case you'd call and say "meet me behind the class". So much for the hope of it all.

Maybe, you were never mine.

#Spotify #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #smut #jungkook smut #bts jk

844 notes · View notes

sunkendreams · 2 months

Note

💳💳💳💳can I have some Marko please and thank you. Just pure playful, smutty goodness.

➾ pairing ; marko (tlb) x fem!reader.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K.

WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), unprotected sex, p in v sex, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), rough sex, multiple positions (missionary & doggy), fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, making out, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, marking, scent kink, marko is pretty rough & greedy, clothes ripping, cumplay, groping, marko is italian, implied marko/reader/paul relationship, risk of getting caught, possessive & obsessive behavior from marko, his slutty crop top is hot to me

AUTHOR’S NOTES: literally having some insane lost boys brainrot rn ,,, working on some more threesomes and just paul content (love him to death ngl), also !! adding more new characters to the muse list aaaaaand gonna try to focus on horny drabbles. just filth, no thoughts ❤️ love you all and thanks so much for your support!

The sharp, stinging scent of copper fills your nostrils, heavy in your lungs, burning away your senses with every breath. You still aren’t fully accustomed to the smell — it’s vitriolic, visceral with every breath that you take, causing you to briefly press your palm against your face.

Golden irises rake over you over the twitching corpse in the sand, appraising your state of wellbeing. Someone had gotten too handsy, too invasive in your space — and that was always enough to spell doom in the eyes of a very territorial vampire.

Despite Marko’s stature, his appetite dwarfed that of his brothers — twice as insatiable, twice as violent.

His tongue lashed across his lips, pearlescent fangs entrenched in crimson, soon to be lapped clean as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. It’s just you and him on some stretch of beach, just out of-sight of the boardwalk.

Marko’s idea of an enjoyable night is hunting and fucking — in no particular order. Paul finally relinquished some of his possessiveness and allowed him to ‘take you out’, which wasn’t entirely subtle. You agreed, of course — Marko was exhilarating in the best of ways.

“Didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Marko confessed, dragging the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth. His mane of golden curls billowed with the oceanside breeze, body glittering in specks of red. “He was a little stale.”

To you, blood is blood — but to vampires, it has a certain taste depending on the individual, a particular viscosity and aftertaste. Marko had amusingly compared it to wine — the age, ingredients, and bouquet, an amalgamation that made blood stale or sweet.

Your gaze flickered toward the now-lifeless corpse strewn about in the sand, a Surf-Nazi whose flesh is stone-cold and pale, devoid of lifeblood. “He did reek of something awful.” You replied, stepping away from the body and toward his motorcycle, instead.

“It didn’t ruin the mood, did it?” Marko inquired, calmly stepping over his dinner as he sauntered toward you, hand grasping at your hip. Sometimes, he had a horrible habit of getting carried away with feeding, and it veered off into an adrenaline rush or lust.

“Not in the slightest.” You mused, shaking your head as you swiped away a smear of blood from his chin. Before you could pull your hand away, he snagged your thumb between his teeth, lips curling into a smirk as he sucked the digit clean of any cruor.

An excitable sigh hitched within the bottom of your throat, eyes glued to the sight of his pretty lips wrapped around your finger. His fangs scraped across your flesh, teasing you with a feather-light touch.

Beneath the cherubic features and angelic facade that was Marko, he was a demon — in the best ways, of course. His halo was steeped in blood, crooked atop his mountain of soft, golden curls. His stare was incendiary, twisted together with lust and adoration.

“Should we go back home?” You inquired, voice soft and barely above a whisper. The rest of the pack were out hunting for the foreseeable future — which meant that the cavern would be left for you two.

Marko smirked, dropping your thumb from his maw before he coaxed you in for a kiss, open-mouthed and fueled by a blistering desire. A simpering moan escaped you, feeling his tongue greedily invade your mouth, hands grasping at your hips.

The kiss was more than enough to stoke a fire within your belly, one that demanded to be extinguished. A pang of honey-sweet arousal struck between your thighs, a scent that Marko could detect from miles away.

When he withdrew, those pretty eyes of his flickered toward your stomach, sluggishly tracing your form again until he met your doe-like stare. “If that’s what you want,” Marko clicked his tongue, fingers slinking toward the pliant flesh of your thigh. “You’re beautiful.”

It was exactly what you wanted — time alone with him. You flourished underneath his compliment, spoken through his forked tongue and sweet tone of voice. “I just want you,” You uttered, gasping when he nipped at your jaw. “Wherever that is.”

Admittedly, Marko found some sentiment in that.

Love was a complex ideal to vampires, especially the boys, who’d known nothing but carnage and survival, many decades of self-preservation. People were simply playthings, food — for him to hold some affection for you, a human, was a daunting notion.

He released you from his grasp, gesturing toward the bike with a nod of his head. “I’ll be patient.” Marko murmured, swinging his leg over as he settled onto his bike, feeling you clamor in behind him.

You wrapped your arms around his abdomen, digits idly toying with the hem of his crop-top, able to feel the taut musculature underneath. It drove him crazy every time you rode with him. Judging from the way he sat, rigid and poised, it must’ve had some effect on him.

As the motorcycle roared to life, Marko unceremoniously spun the vehicle around, causing a spray of sand to fly in the other direction. He sped off onto the stretch of beach, making for the cave at dangerous speeds. The cool, oceanic breeze swept over you, tinged with the sting of alkaline.

Snug against him, your digits continued to drift underneath his clothing, icy muscle flush against the warmth of your fingertips. He shot you a look from over his shoulder, incendiary and shadowed — a warning, more than likely.

Feigning innocence, you simply forced a cheeky smile, noticing the way his body shook with a huff of laughter. He invaded your mind, perusing through your thoughts like the pages of an open book.

“Careful, dolcezza.” Marko crooned, issuing yet another warning — it wasn’t as subtle as the last. As you crept into newfound territory, toying with your vampiric paramour, you had a feeling that you were in for it once you reached the cave.

Something warm blossomed within your chest, a familiar heat that simmered with desire. Arousal pooled between your legs as he narrowly guided the bike away from a cluster of trees, grinning like a shark when he noted the little flicker of nervousness on your face.

It was adrenaline intermingled with a twinge of fear, enough to produce a unique pheromone that Marko caught a whiff of. He revved the motorcycle, pushing down on the gas pedal for a boost of speed, wind whipping throughout your hair.

A pale, silvery moon hung overhead, turning those golden curls to a shade of platinum. Marko whooped and howled, leaving behind a trail of disturbed sand in his wake, guiding the bike over a hill and fallen log.

Your fingers clutched onto him, cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. The exhilaration of it all made your pulse quicken, excitement climbing to new levels. Marko’s cajoling laughter filled the air, the motorcycle gliding down a dirt path toward the beach.

The cave sat soundly beside the ocean, shrouded by a shadowy chasm and plenty of debris. The rest of the bikes were missing, much to Marko’s delight. As he hit the kickstand on his bike, you stepped off, letting out a strangled gasp when he grabbed your waist.

Without warning, he hoisted you into the air, snickering and teasing you with bouts of laughter as he flew into the cave, taking you right into his nest.

“Marko!” You squealed, feeling your back hit the mattress with a rather unceremonious thud, the wind being ripped from your lungs. His grin remained, pearlescent and glittering as he perched at the foot of the bed, teeth catching on the leather of his glove.

“We’re all alone,” Marko mused, and began to slink closer, abandoning his roost. He nipped at your jaw and lower lip, teeth delightfully close to your jugular. Your flesh felt velvety beneath his palms, belonging to him for the evening, much to his satisfaction. “What am I going to do with you?”

The scent of your arousal flooded his senses, throat beginning to ache with a dull throbbing. He absentmindedly licked his lower lip, hazel hues narrowing slightly as he looked you over as one would a delicious meal, but it morphed into something else.

Something more than that.

Part of him would always view you as a meal, as his thrall, his fragile little human — but the other found affection, a twinge of love that steadily grew into something possessive and obsessive. Marko understood why Paul was so crazy about you, why he worshiped the ground that you walked on.

It was the way you looked at him — smitten and enamored, as if you hadn’t seen something so beautiful before. While he enjoyed the fear, savored your nervousness, this was something else entirely.

“You’re perfect,” You exhaled, visibly charmed by his very presence, by the way he carried himself. Marko reminded you of a Greek sculpture, cold and crafted of an impenetrable marble — beautiful and stoic. Yet, he was devious, the devil disguised as an angel. “Pretty.”

Marko hummed, hands unabashedly roaming underneath your dress, groping at your breasts. “Aren’t you sweet?” He purred, listening to the erratic beating of your heart, nose skirting along your jawline as he inhaled a gust of your saccharine scent.

Your fingers reached for the nape of his neck, perusing through his golden curls as he pushed himself in between your legs. His hand hastily snuck towards the cleft between your thighs, seeking out that familiar heat as he swept his digits over your clothed cunt.

“Marko!” You whimpered, practically writhing underneath him as he dipped his fingers beneath your panties, gliding through your slick slit. He wound his fist into the thin material, shredding it apart with a brusque tug. His sneer made you flustered, shrinking underneath his stare.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He uttered, digits prodding at your cunt with a feather-light touch, enough to drive you insane. “Use your words.” Marko insisted, feeling your hands claw at his patchwork jacket. Your mind was a pool of crass thoughts, interwoven with your own embarrassment.

“Yes,” You blubbered, tugging on his curls with a sense of urgency. “Please, Marko, I — I want you!” His snickering and playful smile caused butterflies to erupt within the pit of your stomach, breath hitching as he shrugged his jacket aside. He peeled away those leather gloves, touching you with smooth, icy palms.

As soon as his mouth met yours, you reciprocated with a flurry of passion, scatterbrained and drunk with desire. His lips felt plush against yours, kiss turning sloppy as his teeth scraped across your lower lip. A gasp escaped you as you listened to the sound of fabric tearing.

Marko ripped your dress, uncouth and showing disinterest in the garment altogether. Your brassiere was next, but you were able to save it from an unfortunate fate, letting it join his jacket instead. His lips roamed over your chest, biting at your breasts, your sternum, littering you in lovebites.

He murmured something in Italian — something indiscernible, but it sounded pretty nonetheless. You felt something sharp just above your breast, the intrusion of fangs as Marko took a bite, enough to satiate. He licked his lower lip, lapping at the crescent-shaped indent before he kissed you again.

Much to your delight, his hand returned to the molten heat between your thighs, digits roaming along your slit before he pushed them forward. You shuddered, legs forced apart by his body as he deliberately stroked at your cunt, thumb teasing your clit.

The coppery twang of blood stained his tongue, which happened to collide with yours. Every kiss ripped away a wisp of air from your lungs, body prickling with an electric pleasure. Marko’s fingers found your entrance, easing themselves inside of you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Marko uttered, his gaze wrought with a lust-warped intimacy. You shrank underneath his oppressive stare, heart thudding beneath your collarbone. “My thrall.” He watched the way your countenance blossomed into a vision of pure ecstasy.

Your hips twitched, jolting and rolling into the sensation of his fingers. He found a pleasurable rhythm, easing his digits in and out of your tight cunt. Your hand moved underneath his crop-top, reveling in the feeling of sinewy muscle underneath.

“Take this off,” You moaned, tugging at the tattered fabric with a sense of insistence. “Please, Marko.” Your voice tapered off into a whine when he curled his fingers ever so slightly, thumb grazing your clit yet again.

With a bemused huff, he obeyed, treating you to the charming sight of his lean musculature. His flesh was cold to the touch, impenetrable and sturdy like marble, somewhat sunkissed. Paul was pretty in a different way — wild, untamed, and unapologetically himself.

Marko reminded you of a sculpture, a cherub with a carefully-concocted veil — tear it aside, and you would find a rather beautiful demon. He stared at you with a strange intensity, savoring the way your nails dug into his bicep.

Candlelight danced across his skin, producing an attractive shade of orange that only made him look painfully perfect. He smirked when you bucked forward, chasing after his fingers — he cruelly let them drift away, only for you to let out a disgruntled whine.

He showered you in a barrage of rough bites and hickeys, letting them trail from your neck to collarbone, something noticeable. They were right alongside Paul’s — though, most of his were all around your breasts.

With another careful pistoning of his digits, Marko withdrew his fingers from your slick core, crudely sucking them free of your nectar. You tasted divine, a taste that he’d begun to crave. His hand moved toward the fly of his jeans and chaps.

Marko occasionally entertained you with foreplay — that was more Paul’s forte than anything else. The curly-headed leech was much more absorbed in fucking you until you were a sobbing mess, and that was what he intended on doing.

“Don’t be quiet,” Marko crooned, grinning like the cat who’d just caught the canary. The doe-eyed, mesmerized look you gave him was enough to make him pause for a moment, letting the intimacy crackle between the both of you. He kissed you, feeling your arms loop underneath his. “Sweet little human.”

There was something unusually attractive about Marko referring to you as that — he had all the power. Knowing that he possessed the ability to rip you open and chose not to added some amorous layer to your relationship.

His cock pushed against your cunt, and he let himself linger there until you were moaning, desperately pushing your hips forward. His soft, cajoling giggle made you involuntarily smile, but it dissipated as soon as he fucked his way inside of you.

Marko huffed, savoring the stinging sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder blades, knees squeezing at his narrow nips. “Marko,” You whimpered, knowing that he didn’t have the intention of being gentle. “I need you.” You sighed with passion.

His initial thrusts were erratic and desperate, not soft or coddling. Marko wanted to find a rhythm that worked for him, and not you. Roughness and brutality were the only ways he knew how, evident in the way he began to move into you. His cock slammed away at your sensitive cunt, feeling you clench and shake around him.

A blistering heat consumed you, coursing throughout your body like a tidal wave. It was beyond pleasant, white-hot and visceral as Marko wasted no time in picking up his pace. A low growl resonated from the back of his throat, cock battering away at your cunt.

You felt his hand spread your legs apart, hips brushing against yours as he rutted into you. Your fingers left scratches behind on his back, angry-red with little pearls of crimson. The way Marko obliterated you was borderline godly — a stark juxtaposition to the vampire himself.

Despite the roughness of it all, there was an intimacy to be found within it, a deep obsession that Marko felt for you. His face moved toward your neck, lips peppering messy kisses wherever he could.

A cacophony of lewd noises filled the cavern, accompanied by your string of pleasured moans and needy whimpers. “Marko!” You cried, unabashed as you yelped into the abyss of the cave.

When he pounded into you with the force of a battering ram, you swore you saw the heavens themselves, lips agape as you clawed at his musculature. Marko didn’t care whatsoever — in fact, it only added fuel to the fire as he nipped at any inch of available flesh.

“I’m close.” You panted, listening to the sounds of his heavy huffs and soft grunts. You were ensnared, trapped between his insatiable jaws. Clamoring forward, you attempted to kiss him, only to be met with a flurry of dizzying desire and teeth.

Marko’s lips curled into a grin, scent of your arousal stinging his senses again. It turned him into some feral animal, fueled by the primal need to rut. You savored this, drunk on his passion and ferocity. You felt his mouth press along your jaw; wherever he could reach.

You threatened to tear Marko asunder, digging into his flesh with such force that a human would find it painful. Thankfully, your paramour was supernatural — he was indomitable. Your throat burned from the constant barrage of sound that escaped you, lips swollen from the flurry of kisses.

He brusquely pulled himself out of you, cock oozing with beads of precum as he grabbed at your hips. “Just a little more, dolcezza.” Marko murmured, biting at your shoulder as he put you down onto all fours, bringing you right back against him.

You gasped, choking on air as he pounded back into you, cock hitting new depths as he hunched in close. You could feel his hand tangling into your hair, breath fanning out across your back.

A series of desperate whines left you, face buried near the pillows as Marko fucked you through your orgasm. That familiar rush of white-hot pleasure made you feel as if you were floating, hot and heavy between your thighs. Your stomach churned with molten heat, flesh crawling with fire.

You felt like you were going to collapse, carried away within the sea of ecstasy. Marko didn’t stop for anything, his pace voracious as he consumed you completely, cock buried deep inside of you — as far as it would go. His core felt tight, body snug against yours.

Marko’s grasp on your hips was ironclad, hard enough to leave behind imprint-shaped bruises. His chest erupted with a grunt, his noises subtle compared to your symphony of delight. You shuddered, body spasmodic in the wake of your release.

“Good girl.” Marko purred, finding amusement in the way you attempted to push your thighs together. He began to rut into you again, the intensity climbing to new heights before he pulled out, painting your back in ropes of sticky seed. That was his favorite.

He used the torn remnants of your dress to clean you up, pressing a string of kisses along your spine as you settled back down, body quivering. Marko was more than happy to gather you into his arms, smirking all the while as he pressed a kiss against your brow.

“I’m sorry for scratching you,” You mumbled, visibly sheepish when you noticed the marks you’d left behind. It wasn’t pretty — his cruor was drying underneath your fingernails. “I got carried away.”

Marko giggled, head canting to one side. “Apologizing for scratching the vampire,” He clicked his tongue, absentmindedly biting at the corner of his thumb before he cupped your chin. “You know how much I like it.” He reminded you, tracing your lower lip with the pad of his finger.

A sigh of relief escaped you, body damp with a layer of dewy perspiration. “So does Paul.” Paul enjoyed it when you choked him, too. Sometimes you worried you’d hurt them — even if it was an outlandish thought.

“He does love it,” Paul’s voice reverberated from the makeshift doorway, coat splattered in fresh bloodstains. Even his chin carried faint remnants of crimson, but his grin was more present than ever. “Are you gonna make it happen?” He asked.

You gawked at your mate, but Marko had some sly expression on his face. “Maybe when she’s done resting from us.” Marko interjected, careening into the sensation of your fingers perusing through his curls.

Paul huffed, letting out a soft ‘pfft’. “As long as you don’t break what’s mine, bud.” He mused, and sauntered away from the nest, leaving you and Marko alone once more. Much to Marko’s delight, you leaned into him, feeling his teeth snag along your jaw once more.

“I might break you,” Marko uttered, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear as his hand snuck in between your legs. You shivered, unable to bite back the throaty whimper that left you. “Just a little bit.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #marko tlb x reader #marko tlb x you #tlb marko #tlb marko x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n

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dollwrites · 9 months

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— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )

just think about being femto’s chosen pet.

a hawk that should’ve been sacrificed with the others, and yet you lived. your former leader, the same as your former lover, was gone and in his place stood a looming, dark winged angel of death. however, a soulless crimson gaze remains fixed on you for what seems like hours and hours. clawed hands wrapped around the large, domed cage he’s trapped you in, as if he wants nothing more than to rip the door off and grab you.

at first, you cried and beg to be freed. you call his name in desperate shrieks. “Griffith, please! Let me out!” but, eventually, you realize that it will do no good.

femto has no reaction to your begs for mercy. he is stoic and silent, with ever-watching eyes that follow your every move. he doesn’t try to stop you from pulling at the bars- no, bones, of your cage. oh no, femto reaches his shiny, black arm into your cage, sharp claws extended, grasping for you.

though, of course, you stumble to the back wall of the cage, it is nowhere near big enough to hide from him. you turn your face, feeling the very tips of his claws, like daggers, drag along the fleshiest section of your cheek. you whine at the sensation, certain that if he applied any pressure at all, his claws would pierce your cheek. one, large thumb hooks against your jaw, pulling your face back towards him. you squint, but your body is too weak to fight against his command, and with a small sound of protest, you look up at him. he towers over your cage by at least a full head and shoulders, but his face is leaned so close to the bars that it is nearly pressed against it— his feline eyes pinned out. he looked like a beast, and you were almost surprised that he didn’t snort like one. but, you’d noticed, that femto’s chest didn’t rise and fall with breath, at all.

his obsidian talons scrape along the shape of your jaw, his thumbnail dragging against your trembling, lower lip. you wonder, as you cower in front of this demon king, if there’s a single inkling of Griffith left within him. did he, somehow, recall the taste of the lips that he touched, now? there was a glittering possibility in his eyes. as if he were deep in thought as they focused on your lips. however, his pupils started to dilate the lower his gaze, and his claws, traveled. tearing open your top with ease— as if shredding old parchment.

your chest heaved, up and down with ragged breathing as you whined and begged him under your breath not to hurt you, but he wasn’t listening. by the time his massive palm envelopes your bare breast, his pupils were so blown out that they possessed the entire eye, making them abysmal pools of wicked intent. he teases your taut nipple with his thumb and forefinger, squeezing experimentally before the sharp end of the nails poke and prod at the bud, causing you to squirm and pant, nervous. they nick your flesh, whether he means to or not, and a thin stream of rubies drip from your chest, running down the length of your belly. you gasp, and try once again to recoil from him, but the closer you press yourself into the opposite side of the cage, the closer he leans, until his body is up against the bone bars, and they creak from his weight.

“Don’t… touch…” you whisper, desperately, but it’s much too late. closing your eyes as you feel his cruel fingers tread lower, smearing your own blood into your skin before they delve between your quivering legs. you try to close them, but even his fingers are too strong to defy, and they press against your tender button hard. “A-agh!” you’re forced to bite back the sound of discomfort, the tips of his talons scoring at your most vulnerable core, the slick pads of his fore and middle finger pushing at your nether lips to spread your pussy open. your thighs, shaking but wide, do little to cover the full view of your cunt to the monster, whose smile is faint, and his tongue flicks at his own, vermilion lips. with the length of his ring finger, he rubs between your folds, pulled apart to grant him the access that he wants, and you feel the pressure from every inch of his long, thick digit. “M-monster…”

it doesn’t seem to bother him. in fact, you wonder if he even heard you. his eyes glued to your cunt, his finger rubbing from your clit to your hole, that clenches unwilling at the rough treatment. you hate that your clit swells and throbs against his finger, and that when he realizes, he focuses all of the pressure there, until you’re moaning and squirming, with tears in your eyes.

you don’t want it to feel good, but it does.

you don’t want to cum, but you do.

and you don’t want that to seal your fate as femto’s fragile, little fuckdoll. but it does.

#doll’s dizzy drabblin’ ⟡#femto #femto x reader #femto x you #femto smut #femto berserk #berserk griffith #griffith berserk #griffith smut #griffith x reader #griffith imagine #berserk x reader #berserk x you #berserk #berserk smut

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luxeavenger · 6 months

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Shark

Kinktober prompt: Overstimulation

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Backstage pass!Natasha x reader

Warnings: Overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral sex, top Natasha

Words: 1055

If you like it, please give it a reblog! I've been away for awhile, and I think a lot of people forgot about me.

Kinktober Masterlist | Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

The redhead’s muscular shoulders block the light when she hovers over you. Her wide, lipstick-smeared grin is intimidating the way a shark's grin is intimidating.

And apprehension curls through your gut, just as it would if it were a shark grinning back at you right now.

You whimper as her fingers ease out of your pussy, just to be pushed into your mouth. You tongue the taste of you off her digits. They’re pruny, because they’ve been inside of your dripping cunt for the better part of the evening.

“Be a good girl, and clean ‘em for me, sugar,” she commands in her rough, sultry voice.

Each time she praises you, chills scatter over your too-hot flesh. It makes you eager to please her, and you know you’d do anything she asked of you just to receive more of it.

Natasha’s naked skin is so pale it nearly glows everywhere it peeks from behind the tattoos cluttering her naked body. She’s singularly the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, and you felt unbelievably lucky when she picked you up after your bartending shift ended.

Now? You’re pretty sure if it were possible to die from being overwhelmed by orgasms, this is the woman they’d send to do the job.

Her chin is shiny with your juices when she looks down at you. Hoping for a break, time for your body to relax for a bit, you ask, “May I please eat your pussy now, ma’am?” Her fingers are still in your mouth, so the words come out garbled.

She pulls them out and you repeat your question.

She grins again, and you’re foolish enough to think she’s going to let you do what you asked.

Instead, she takes the fingers still slick with your spit and pushes them back inside of you. The squelch when she pushes into your cunt is obscene, and you blush, heat rushing over your body like slow-spreading flames.

With a low chuckle she says, “Oh, sugar. I’m not nearly done with you yet.” Her fingers rub against your g-spot, and you mewl. “When you’ve come so much—once you’re so sensitive you can’t even stand the touch of fresh fucking air on your needy little clit—that’s when I’ll let you eat my pussy.”

Then, just to tease you, she curls her middle and ring finger into her cunt—the cunt you’re dying for a taste of—with a moan, and you whine pitifully.

She leans over to whisper in your ear, “Seeing you squirm and cry for me has got me so fucking wet, sugar. I can’t wait to sit on this pretty little face.” She wraps the hand she was just using to toy with herself around your jaw to gently shake your head back and forth. Her fingers are sticky with her slick, and it leaves a streak of her arousal across your cheek.

“Ma’am, please. I can’t anymore. It hurts.” You know you’re whining, but you have no idea how to stop. She’s made you come more times than you can count. And, well, you know she’s not going to stop, so you might as well beg anyway.

“Now, now, sugar,” Natasha purrs, “we both know you fucking can, and I promise you that you absolutely fucking will come again, if I have to use my fucking fist to yank an orgasm out of you.”

“Ma’am–” you try to make another appeal to her. You try to come up with something coherent. Some words to tell her you’re too sore, too tired, too something, but instead, “–oh, fuck.”

Making you feel like you don’t even know your own body anymore, your traitorous pussy gushes slick over Natasha’s fingers, and your muscles strain as your back bows. The gorgeous woman purrs silky praise at you, that sends butterflies swarming through your stomach.

“Look at you sugar,” she beams at you, her angel bites glitter in the light when she licks her lips like a cat. “So beautiful when you come for me. I knew you could do it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you sigh deliriously, drunk off her attention.

She slowly descends your body, nibbling her way down, her perfect mouth leaving a trail of bruises in her wake. Her green eyes stay trained on your face when she slurps at your clit. Your hips rise off of the mattress, and she throws a deceptively strong arm over you to keep you in place. Your body already feels like one raw nerve ending, and she keeps plucking at that tight, strained feeling inside of you like it’s a guitar string she intends to play until it breaks.

Her persistent fingers on your g-spot pull a messy, squirting orgasm out of you, soaking Natasha’s chin and hand again. She laps at you like she’s starving, and you’re her only source of sustenance.

Your thighs are visibly trembling, and Nat smooths a hand down your flank. She coos, “Such a good girl for me. So fucking good. You came so fucking hard for me. It was fucking beautiful.”

Her tattooed fingertips make swirling patterns over your sides until your thighs are done shaking. She runs a knuckle up your slit, smiling lazily when your hips jerk reflexively at the lightest graze of your clit.

“Mmm, baby girl,” she hums, “look at you. So sensitive. I think you’re there. I think you’re right fucking there, sugar.”

She blows gently at your mound to cool your heated skin, then spreads you open with her thumbs. Then a quick puff of air hits your clit, and a bolt of electricity zings up your body. Your entire body jerks, and you mewl pitifully, “Please, no more, ma’am. No more. I can’t. I can’t. I really, really can’t. Don’t make me.”

She abandons the space between your thighs, and straddles your body. Silver tear tracks on your cheeks are wiped away by her thumbs, and you hiccup a sob at the gentle gesture.

Her voice is rough, and syrupy sweet when she soothes, “Shh. That part’s all done for now, sweet girl. You were so good for me.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you sigh dreamily.

The too-sharp grin is back now. “You’re not nearly done, sugar. So don’t thank me yet,” she wryly remarks, grabbing a handful of your hair as she lowers herself over your face.

Everyone who reblogs gets my undying, and eternal love. No, really. xoxo

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #rockstar!natasha romanoff #rockstar!natasha #backstage pass #backstage pass!series #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #overstimulation

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fanaticsnail · 5 months

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Shimmy - Part 4 (Conclusion) SMUT

This is part 4 to the dance series between the acrobatic reader, Mihawk and Buggy. I tweaked it after my earlier apprehension and nearly doubled the word count to do so.

(Thank you @sordidmusings for being an absolute sunshine of an individual, always: especially with coaxing the plot out of me)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Masterlist.

Word count: 4,097

Warnings: smut, throuple dynamics, threesome, porn with plot, balancing act of two very different individuals.

You relinquished your grasp on the two hands of the men by your side, choosing to instead lace your arms within the crook of Mihawk’s elbow, resting your head on his shoulder while circling your arm around the waist of your captain and pull him flush against your side.

You all walked perfectly in tow towards your crew quarters; your brows furrowing at the thought that; you had no prior dalliances with either men within your bedroom. You would always travel to one or the other’s base to share a night with them, but never in your own space. They both respected your boundary in that sense, which you appreciated whole-heartedly.

Having a sense of minor apprehension and a giddy anxiety fall over you; you shook the thoughts of breaking away from your commitment to the joining with both of them just by exhaling deeply through your lips after feeling truly comforted by their willingness to be all together.

Mihawk trailed his eyes down to your body, gaze focussing on the top of your head as he began to feel as anxious as you did earlier. He had been in prior entanglements with more than one individual prior; but none he truly felt anything other than lust for. This was you, the prized acrobat in Buggy’s troop of miscellaneous outcasts. You, his lover: with your spouse cradled against you beneath your other arm.

The three of you had red smeared lips, glitter clinging to your faces and hair as from your prior affectionate embrace after your intervention with your acrobatic partner, Jac. He was surprised at the clown’s willingness to share you with him privately; but now to share you publicly between the two of you: completely untested waters.

Buggy closed his eyes as he inhaled your perfumed neck, finding comfort in your warm touch while feeling waves of anticipation shrouding his lust for you. He wanted you, and he knew the broody warlord also harboured a piece of your heart. This was never primarily lust for him, this was you. His acrobat, his spotlight and his spouse whom he truly loved. You, who had enough room within your heart for two gentlemen privately; now willing to expose your lust for them both in the same room together.

This little dance had all but drawn to a close, the curtain falling after a successful and well executed performance. Could you truly handle an encore of greater refrain; a juggling act of push and pull to navigate two bodies in a dalliance together?

Buggy reached for the door handle to your bedroom, meeting the tips of his fingers against Mihawk’s who had also descended to the brass knob. An air of awkwardness falling between you, you sighed and broke away from the embrace and stepped forward to open your door with a small giggle.

“I think we might all need a drink,” you suggested to the gentlemen as you ushered them both into your room after you; tugging first Buggy within your chambers before lacing your fingertips with Mihawk’s and remaining joined to the dark-haired warlord.

“I think,” Mihawk drew his face into your own and held his lips a small distance away from your lips, “we should wait until afterwards.”

You smiled as you pressed your lips once more against Mihawk’s, closing your eyes and truly leaning into his body affectionately. It was always playing in the peripherals of your mind that your captain was standing by and watching you engage in open mouthed affection with your warlord.

As you attempted to reach for your spouse, you found Mihawk’s arm already approaching him to bring him closer into you. Mihawk reached his hands down to clasp Buggy’s wrist and pull it to surround your waist; his other joining it to circle you and hold you flush against him from behind.

Mihawk broke his lips away from yours, leaning up to kiss beneath your left ear.

“What now?” you asked him breathily, noting he took more of the leadership role in this liaison. Mihawk smiled against your neck, breaking himself away from you to look to his two bedroom partners.

“Now,” he began, reaching for your hand and leading you both towards your bed, “you are both going to shred yourself from your attire-,” he arched his chin to Buggy in indication that he, too, will be joining in receiving instruction from him, “-and then-,” he tilted your chin upwards to meet his lusting gaze, “-I’m going to claim your beautiful lips with my cock.”

You felt a wave of arousal began to weave through your chest, peaking your nipples and falling down to your lower stomach. A small moment of doubt began to form, your lips almost wrapping themselves around the words you were thinking before Buggy spoke.

“And I’m going to be there for every-,” he kissed your neck, “-single-,” he licked a small stripe with his tongue at the back of your neck beneath your hair, “-second of it.”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you turned your face to meet your lips with Buggy’s as Mihawk relinquished his hold on your chin and begin to rid himself of his boots, leather pants, greatcoat and undergarments; choosing to keep his hat firmly pressed atop his hat.

“Are you certain, my love?” you asked Buggy one final time, while shimmying yourself from your clothes, the items pooling by your feet to make yourself bare in front of your lovers. Buggy’s smile softened, him also removing his vest, pants, boots and hat; choosing to leave his bandana and cravat firmly attached to his neck and hair.

“Of course I am, pumpkin. You are my favourite, my star, and you have my whole heart,” he confirmed with you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before quickly pulling away with his eyes holding a seriousness within the playful teal colour; “now be a good girl and let the spooky bastard fuck your face.”

Your eyes widened at his comment, the tingle returning to your naked body as Buggy reached you towards him; his knees knocking with the back of the mattress, causing him to fall back and pull you alongside him. You felt the warm heat radiating from his flesh against your own, the tufts of navy and bright blue hair of his chest feeling coarse against your breasts.

Placing your knees beside his thigh, you turned to face Dracule Mihawk; his cock twitching in anticipation as you knelt in front of him and smiled up at him. He pumped his shaft within his firm grip and ushered for you to come closer to him.

“You,” he directed Buggy, who seemed shocked by his command but frowned as he actively listened, “get behind her and embrace her. She’s your lover, not some random whore.”

Buggy felt heat pooling within his chest as his heart began to rapidly pound against it at Mihawk’s command. He scuttled to his knees and messily crawled to sit himself behind you as he laced his fingers over your hips and hold his forearms, pressing his forehead against your right shoulder blade. He removed his painted head and pressed a kiss against your neck as you began paying undivided attention to the warlord above you with your lips.

You swirled your tongue over the throbbing tip of Mihawk’s cock as he hissed out a quivered sigh of relief as you began to take him further and further into the chasms of your throat; swallowing his shaft as he began to rock his hips into you.

The feathered broad-hat shrouded his eyes as he threw his head back in pleasure, messily thrusting his hips against your parted lips; your tongue lying flat to shield his sensitive knob from your bottom teeth as he filled your throat with his lengthy shaft.

He hands raked through your hair, fisting it in balls at the back of your head as he plunged his cock deep within your throat. Your tonsils ached and your lungs screamed out for a semblance of air as his pace quickened to chase his end. Your eyes pricked at the corners with tears, your lips smiling around his cock briefly as he continued to fuck your face. You closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of your face being completely used in such a relentless way; drowning under his unforgiving pace.

Your knees strained against the dipping mattress beneath them, arching your back up into the torso situated firmly behind you, a gloved right hand finding its way to clasp your throat within his firm grasp. His left arm hooked over your chest to hold you closer against himself as Buggy moved his body to the rhythm Mihawk had chosen to maintain. You felt the tip of Buggy’s knob twitch as it lie painfully neglected, resting between the cheeks of your ass.

Mihawk’s rhythm and grip had become firmer, thrusting harshly into the back of your throat; his trail of dark curls scraping against your nose as he panted through his lips. You opened your eyes to look up at him, watching as his face contorted in pleasure as he warned you of his release.

“I-I’m going to-,” he began, looking down at you as you took him completely within your throat; hollowing it out expertly. He began to retreat from you to empty his balls away from your face and into his palm; only for you to chase his retreat and suck harshly against him, the trails of saliva collected within your cheeks bewitching him as he felt possessed by your eagerness.

You steadied yourself against his hips as he groaned a low panted moan, filling your cheeks and throat with a mixture of saliva with his waves of salty and bitter cum pouring into them. Buggy’s grip lessened itself against your neck, feeling the bob of your throat as you swallowed all of the contents readily falling from the slit of Mihawk’s cock and into your lips. The clown-captain’s jaw protruded forward in empathetic pleasure, truly grasping how amazing it felt to empty his own balls into your mouth from your earlier and solitary entanglements. His eyes glazed over as he watched you pull away from the cock of the mighty warlord of the sea, a string of saliva maintaining the connection from your parted lips and tongue to his knob.

Without truly thinking his actions threw and completely overtaken by lust, Buggy turned your face towards him over your righthand shoulder with his hand grasping your neck; pulling you into his face as he claimed your bruised lips against his own. He moaned into your mouth as his cock again twitched again on your back at the sensation of exploring your mouth with his lips and tongue; tasting the remnants of Mihawk’s release within it.

Gasping at the unbridled attention, you released Mihawk’s hip from your left hand and brought it to Buggy’s right cheek; your right hand remaining against the dark-haired swordsman’s left hip to hold him firmly in place. You trailed your fingers and thumb over his jaw, feeling the grease-paint atop his navy stubble, pushing him to lie firmly back against the cool floor below you while turning to face him.

You collected the right hand of the warlord who was gasping for breath to steady his heart rate after relinquishing his cum into your mouth; while attempting to rid himself of the lusting feeling he felt regarding Buggy’s eagerness to taste his release within his lover’s mouth.

Crawling onto his reclined body, it was Buggy’s turn to feel slightly uneasy at your overzealous attention under the ever watchful amber eyes of your broody lover above you. He hesitated as you steadied your slick cunt over the tip of his cock, grasping at the base of it with your left hand while holding Mihawk’s right.

“W-wait-,” Buggy’s voice called out in apprehension, his eyes floating between Mihawk’s before falling back to rest on your own two orbs. You halted sheathing yourself on Buggy’s cock from your position on his lap, looking into his franticly wide teal eyes as your legs began to tremble from the weight of your body; after your position kneeling for an extended length of time earlier.

“Are you okay, my love?” you asked him, apprehension falling to your own face at his panic.

“I am-,” he affirmed hastily before turning his eyes towards Mihawk’s and speaking directly to him, “-I am if you are,” his eyes darkened, ensuring the warlord’s comfort in sharing your body so openly with him.

In response, Mihawk gracefully drew his body to rest between Buggy’s knees behind you. He knelt while clasping your thighs within his firm grip, a sigh of relief falling from your lips as he now held the brunt of your weight. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder, maintaining eye contact with the genius jester before sinking your aching cunt downwards onto Buggy’s painfully hard cock in a single thrust. The three of you released a moan of complete harmony as you met the navy-haired pelvis of your spouse, succumbing to the thralls of pleasure you were all experiencing.

Although Mihawk had only just depleted his arousal through his ribbons of cum shooting back into your mouth, he couldn’t help but become aroused through empathetically experiencing the way your cunt squeezed and trembled around Buggy’s incredibly hard shaft.

The swordsman was wielding you. He was wielding you against falling your slick opening to claim your spouse’s cock between your legs and thrusting you by your hips and thighs to set the pace of the encounter falling between the two of you.

You were his sword, his weapon against his formidable adversary. Instead of hunting to claim the life of his enemy; he wielded your body as he chased instead the mutual pleasure of his two partners as they met their pelvises together in the same bruising pace he set earlier as he rutted his cock against your lips.

Buggy cried out as he continued to hold his teal gaze against the half-lidded honey-coloured eyes of the warlord as he gyrated himself upwards to match the relentless pace Mihawk had set between the two of you.

Mihawk nudged your jaw with his chin, pulling his gaze from Buggy’s eyes to meet with you; his lover. Your lips were swollen from choking on his cock, your neck bruised slightly under Buggy’s firm grip as your body was littered with blue and silver glitter from the clown-captain’s face and body paint. His yellow eyes raked over your body as you whimpered against the approaching pleasure pooling within your lower abdomen.

Buggy’s eyes held firmly to the attention Mihawk was giving you; himself falling under the dominating aura of the talented swordsmen as he watched him pull you into a passionate kiss. Buggy’s eyes first widened in shock at how truly loving the kiss felt between the two of you, before a small whimper fell from his lips at the arrival of his apprehension once more.

Feeling the tension from the man below you, you immediately broke away from the affectionate lips of Mihawk and drew you right hand to collect your captain from below you and rise his torso upwards by the scruff of his neck to meet with your own. You brought your face down to claim the red-stained lips of your captain while drawing him up into yourself, Mihawk’s lips drawing themselves instead to your shoulder and neck as he trailed a series of open mouthed kisses against your skin.

Mihawk placed his torso firmly against you, fully pulling you to hold your body flush against himself as he removed his left hand from your thigh and rake itself to meet with your swollen clit. You shrieked into Buggy’s mouth as Mihawk now wielded every aspect of pleasure falling to your body. He expertly pressed his skilled digits against your bud; swirling the organ between his fingers under the pool of slick arousal falling from your walls onto Buggy’s pelvis.

Buggy, never being one to shy away from the spotlight, claimed the back of your head within his gloved fingertips as he anchored your neck backwards to arch it into the warlord behind you. He trailed his reckless and frantic kisses against your skin; his brows furrowing upwards as his release approached you.

“I-I need,” you gasped out, your own orgasm approaching but holding back to match with Buggy’s.

“What do you need, princess?” Mihawk asked you, his eyes glazing over as he continued to thrust you downwards to meet with Buggy’s pace.

“Please-,” you called with both desperation and commanding presence, “-someone kiss me.”

Immediately the two men fell their faces upwards towards you; Buggy first claiming your lips with his own before nudging your cheek with his red nose to fall your lips atop of Mihawk’s as he furrowed his brows in pleasure. Buggy again extended his bottom jaw as his eyes fell open widely at the exchange.

The warlord broke away from your lips and shoved your face back towards your captain with his forehead, his eyes gawking at the connection you had between you. You creased your brows as you held the back of the head of your captain and tilted your head to claim him further into yourself.

Mihawk immediately pressed his lips against the corner of your mouth, you maintaining the contact with the clown beneath you as your release was reaching its peak. Buggy retreated partially from your lips, choosing to fall his own to your righthand side as he ushered for Mihawk to draw his lips against your own to both experience you release crying against their lips.

Immediately, your orgasm ruptured in unison with the clown below you; his ribbons of cum splashing against the walls of your cervix and encumbering you with his release painting you. The intensity of the rupture was nothing you had experienced before: vision falling in white as your toes curled and lips screamed against your two lovers.

Being completely caged both above and beneath your two partners was overwhelming you in the best way. Your senses were eclipsed by their hold, your senses stunned by your bodies all becoming one with each other. Mihawk aided you both to ride through your high as he thrust you down against the pelvis of the clown to steady your body against him.

Buggy’s arms wrapped around your waist, while Mihawk circled his arms to cage you both in tighter; his grip falling against the back of Buggy’s shoulders and drawing the two of you closer together while your arms fell behind your captain.

You all breathed out a sigh of relief at the feeling; Mihawk the first to recover from the encounter considering his earlier release, withdrew himself away from your bodies as you remained embraced together.

Mihawk retrieved an assortment of items within his grip; towels, a bucket of warm water and a bottle of what appeared to be some form of champagne with three flutes. Buggy’s arms withdrew from your waist, your arms falling from its grip around his shoulders as you both brought your attention to the warlord approaching you.

Buggy apprehensively withdrew his deflated cock from your opening, his cum pooling atop his pelvis from your vagina; prompting Mihawk to click his tongue to chastise you both.

“And here I thought we were going to remain civilised about this,” he reprimanded in a snarky tone, “yet you’ve gone ahead and made a further mess of things.”

A warm blush rose against your cheeks as you watched Buggy’s cheeks redden in fury at the comment from your lover. Immediately, you drew your lips against your captain’s to stifle any words of aggression; immediately soothing him as you uttered: “I don’t mind a little mess, captain.”

Buggy immediately softened his eyes as they met with yours, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly before trailing his fingertips down towards your chin.

“Lie back, dear,” Mihawk commanded you, prompting you to hook your legs over Buggy’s waist and place yourself back against the plush mattress of the room. You sighed in relief as Mihawk began cleansing your body with the water and towel, relishing in the attention he paid to your aching flesh from the earlier attack.

You fluttered your eyes shut as you felt more hands, limbs and lips trail their way over your body; whispering praising utterances to you for your attuned balance to navigate untested waters successfully.

You heard the cork relinquish from the glass neck of the bottle, your eyes snapping open to reveal the strong forearms of your sword-master brandishing the bottle to skilfully rid its seal from the cork before crouching atop the mattress and joining you both in your recline against the pillows. You reached your arms forward to claim the crystal flutes from his fingertips and holding them out as he filled the liquid to the brim of each glass.

Buggy sat upwards with the bed dipping a little at his rise before falling back against the pillows once more. Mihawk held his glass upwards in indication for you to press your own against it in celebration; Buggy joining you in the notion before you all rose the tart and finely beaded liquid to your lips.

“So,” you began, looking between the two men with a small apprehensive smile; prompting them to both look to your position between them in the middle, “what now?”

“Now,” Buggy spoke this time, reclining with one arm lying behind his neck to support his comfort, “all we’re gonna do is drink-,” he brought the flute up to his lips and downed the liquid in a quick gulp, much to the disdain of Mihawk, “-and then I’d like to take a nap. That really took it out of me.”

Mihawk’s eyes widened partially due to the knowledge that he and you did the majority of the work for this particular encounter, and also at the fact that he felt comfortable enough to fall himself under the vulnerability of succumbing to unconsciousness in front of him. You turned to Mihawk and silenced his rage with a quick peck of his lips and a knowing look from your eyes, immediately soothing him with your playful grin.

“And where do you propose to take said nap, captain?” you asked him with a coy tone, cooing your question down at him.

“Why, right here of course,” he confirmed, reflecting the same tone back up at you. You laughed at him, throwing your head back to meet with the shoulder of Mihawk, who caught your body within his firm grasp. You had half a mind to kick them both out of your chambers so you could properly clean yourself and rest, but you also really enjoyed the time you were currently spending with the two of them.

Following suit, you finished your wine and collected both your and Buggy’s flute stems and reached your body over Buggy’s to place them on your bedside table. Buggy, ever the opportunist, couldn’t help but press a long and drawn out kiss atop your breast as you retreated from him and settle back between the two men.

“Would you also desire to rest, my lord?” you looked up at the dark-haired warlord at the side of you, a warm smile rising to your lips as he drank the remainder of his sparkling wine.

“So long as I remain welcome, yes,” he raised his hand to rake over your hair, apologetically while floating his eyes around your face circularly.

“You’re always welcome,” you whispered, floating your eyes shut and leaning towards his affectionate caress, “both of you. For a dance or otherwise.”

Settling back beneath the sheets of your bed, you lie your head into Mihawk’s left arm as he circled your shoulder in a comforting embrace while Buggy rolled onto his side and laced his arm over your waist and pressed his nose and forehead against your own left arm. You rose your arm to cradle Buggy against yourself and pressed a loving kiss atop his bandana-clad head before leaning your face towards Mihawk and receiving a similar caress from the warlord against your forehead.

You felt complete, your two partners lying together within your bedsheets; holding them and being held after the first night you shared together as one complete unit. The three of you released a collective sigh of contentment, all feeling the afterglow of your encounter while feeling an uprising giddiness in anticipation on what more is to come. But that was a thought for tomorrow.

@feral-artistry picture source (she's amazing, check her out!) Mihawk & Buggy

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rabbitsrams · 8 months

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please omg write a part 2 to sweet domestic schlatt

i am going to expand on the morning routine part bc i genuinely cannot stop thinking about it

one small instance of suggestive stuff but it's mostly fluffy/sfw <3

your first time spending the night with each other. you slept over schlatt's dorm room, thankful that his roommate and other suitemates were away so you could be together in peace.

you woke up before him, relishing in the new yet familiar feeling of his arms around you. rubbing your eyes, you look to your right to see a still sleeping schlatt, mouth agape and softly snoring. you shift slightly to get a better look at him, but your movements wake him up.

his brown eyes glitter in the sunshine peeking through the window. he gives you a groggy smile as he stretches. "mornin'." his sleep-laced voice sends a slight shiver down your spine.

"hi," you hum, kissing him on the cheek. "you sound so sexy in the morning."

"oh, do i?"

"yeah," you giggle as he rolls you off of him and climbs on top of you. he starts to kiss down your neck, pushing your, his, shirt to the side to expose your collarbone.

"fuck, you're so pretty."

hand in hand, schlatt leads you to the bathroom. it's a bit messy, as you would expect, considering he lived with 3 other men. but schlatt had cleaned and cleared one of the sink areas for your use.

you're both silent as you complete your morning routine: brushing your teeth, washing your face, et cetera. you don't notice schlatt looking over at you for a moment, studying you as you smear facial cleanser all over your face, a spa headband pushing your hair back, fully concentrated in what you were doing.

not to be absolutely cheesy, but this was the moment that he knew he wanted to spend his entire life with you.

cut to your first morning at your new apartment. waking up together was nothing new to you, of course, but this morning was different.

you were at a new point in your relationship; searching for an affordable place, signing a lease together, buying furniture, moving everything in and finally spending the night there.

your bathroom is a lot more organized, considering this was your apartment and not a shitty college dorm. and yet it had that same kind of homey feel to it much like your current one. there was one big sink with your stuff on one side and his on the other.

you smile to yourself as you and schlatt go into your new bathroom. you never said it out loud, but you always loved doing your routine together. it was something simple and quite mundane, but it brought you together. all of your little moments led to this right here: the start of your new normal.

"have i ever told you how pretty you are in the morning?"

"yes, j, multiple times."

"you're extra pretty now, in our new house."

"what does that even mean?"

"dunno, you're just pretty. that's all."

you roll your eyes, playfully shoving your boyfriend. "come 'ere," you say, opening the camera app on your phone. you aim your phone at the large mirror in front of you, capturing schlatt with his toothbrush in his mouth as you grin with a thumbs up.

"i'm framing this."

"you better not!"

and yet the frame sits on his side of the bed.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fluff #schlatt x reader #schlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt fanfiction #schlatt imagine #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #idk why i feel like schlatt is secretly the cheesiest mf ever #yall cant convince me otherwise #i hope this is good enough aaaa

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jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

FICTOBER DAY 9- Shut You Up

Fictober Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

Warnings- exhibitionism, role-play if you squint, costumes, degradation

-----

“If you can’t be fucking quiet, I’ll find a way to shut you up.” Harry’s words vibrated against her cheek as she leaned against the sink, hands gripping it while his fingers curled inside of her.

Y/N had known her costume would most definitely get Harry going, but she hadn’t anticipated being dragged into the bathroom at their friend’s halloween party and her skirt being flipped up with his cock grinding against her ass. When she had showed up in a cheer costume, it had dome something to him. He didn’t know himself how hot he would find it, but Y/N had a way of making herself look absolutely delicious in anything she put herself in.

Tiny little skirt and her high ponytail, showing off her neck and the little ‘H’ charm on her necklace, it swished over her ass and Harry had been very quick to get her alone. Her eagerness straight away had been enough to drive the girl mad, but his hand tugging down the protective shorts to keep her from flashing and smacking against the supple flesh was enough to get her dripping.

“It feels too good.” She whimpered, trying to bite on her lip but failing as she felt the thickness of his cock against her ass. He was cruel, keeping it tucked away, but his finger was fucking into her cunt. The sounds were wet and squelching into the bathroom, a humiliatingly hot reminder of how desperate she got for her boyfriend. His costume was his jersey, eye black smeared under his cheek and his cap backward on his head, showing off his gorgeous face even more with his hair not falling into his face.

“I can tell. Soaking my hand, for fucks sake.” He chuckled. “But you’re being too loud. If you can’t do it on your own…” He released his own hand that had steadied himself, bringing it up to her mouth. “Suppose I can shut you up with my fingers.” Without warning, he pushed past her lips and placed two digits into her mouth. “Suck on those and keep fucking quiet. Already showed up in this slutty little thing. Do you want people to hear you being a slut too?” He crooned into her ear.

She tried to deny it, her denial muffled against his fingers as he curled the ones inside her hole just a little bit. Her eyes lulled closed, leaning over the sink further before Harry's grip on her pulled her back up. “Open your eyes, watch it. Look at what I see when I play with that precious little pussy.”

His hand was slightly hidden under the skirt, and somehow it was hotter. Al she could see was his wrist glistening as he would pull out only to shove them back in. The top of the ensemble had been pushed up, her tits wet and nipples swollen from Harry’s prior mouthing, tummy heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her face was the messiest, lipstick smeared around her and Harry’s mouths and glitter from her cheeks spread around on both of them. There would be no mistaking it when they came out, they’d been up to no good.

“And now you’re drooling around my fingers. My filthy girl. Can’t believe you… Wanted to be a dirty little cocktease, and now you’re seeing what happens when you do all of that.” He taunted. “Suck on them. Go on, know you love to suck on things.” His cock throbbed against her ass. “Making a mess of both my hands. There we go…” He praised, sliding his fingers deeper into her mouth and making her gag slightly. “Don’t be dramatic, baby. You take my cock so much deeper than that. And you will, once I get you there. Want those cute little Bambi legs to wobble out of here and make sure the rest know that you’re being taken care of.”

The heel of his hand was rubbing against her clit as he fucked into her pussy, his thick fingers reaching places her own couldn’t. It was so good, but she wanted more. She wanted his cock inside of her. Like he could read her mind as she started to rut her ass back against his length, he laughed against her and made her shiver as he kissed her cheek.

“Not quite yet, baby. I’m not done. But if you want to be a good little cheerleader for me and bounce on my cock when I’ve had my fill of watching you squirm… Maybe I’ll be nice.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #fictober #jarofstyles fictober #jarofstyles fictober 2023 #Harry smut #Harry fluff #harry styles halloween blurb #Harry styles Halloween #Harry styles au

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saintmuses · 2 months

Text

❝𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩❞

Pairing:

Chris x Rockstar!Reader

Summary:

It was 1978, she was living her life on stages. She had her whole future planned out which was playing in front of crowds until she dropped dead. Well that was the plan until the night she met Chris.

Warning(s): soft SMUT. Slight Oral (m-receiving). Slight fingering. P in V. Attack/threat (from a stranger). Minors, dni!

Word Count: 3k

For some reason, this particular night called her. Called out to her in a certain fashion with a seductive tone with a voice as a sin.

She didn’t know why, but she was ready to fall in the deep abyss that was the night sky filled with clusters of stars. To her, the stars reminded her of gold dust from afar; the closest thing to her was the gold glitter smeared on her cheekbones that was brushed upwardly and gold eyeshadow that looked like fallen dust.

It was nineteen seventy-eight, and Y/N could practically taste the anticipation on her lips as she could hear the rising excitement of having her on stage at .

Clad in worn-out converses, bell bottom jeans and skin tight tank top, she was the lead singer and one of the songs her band had written and produced ended up playing on the radio.

It was music to her ears, flowing in one ear with gold glitter and coming out with dust in gold dust because she drained every critic, every success, it was the most powerful thing in the world. The power that the words held over them. Sending them into a trance-like state, and she couldn't blame them because if she was in their shoes, she would've felt the same.

Her voice nearly faltered when her eyes landed on a lone guy standing by the wall, far away from the sporadic crowd, gripping the base of the microphone with one hand and holding the spine of the stand with the other; she was surprised by the fact that she could see him in the crowd like this. Pulsing, erratic, a unified wave with the strobe lights flashing red and blue over the nightclub.

Her voice then faded into the low range, whispering the words of the song that was blasting across the place as she raked her eyes down his frame.

She could tell that his hair was somewhat shoulder length and dark, almost as dark as the wall behind him, maybe even closer to black. She could tell there was a mustache adorning his skin between his nose and his upper lip, and he was handsome despite of it. He would've been just a regular nobody, and she would be none wiser, but the thing about him that drew her in like a moth to its flame was the holster hidden underneath his leather jacket.

And that was why she could tell he wasn't a regular nobody. Maybe nobody in her world, but as far as it goes...he wasn't a nobody in his world; of that she could tell. He was dressed in dark colored pants, a patterned buttoned up shirt beneath the leather jacket he was adorning that were clearly custom cut for his body.

Who carried a gun to a nightclub? Or even a bar? He was at a high risk of destroying the place with a sea of crowd full of intoxicated people and a few were all high on powdered addiction.

She felt like she was singing the words to him. Maybe she was, but no one had to know. She was nearly flustered when she knew that he knew she was looking at him as she growled into the microphone -with the words that drove through the crowd relentlessly- due to the smirk that lilted his lips.

Those lips from afar, are the ones that she wanted to kiss. And she didn't even know him. Just a mere stranger from the sideline, an observant, a bystander. A handsome bystander at that. All she knew was his eyes were on her, and she relished in the attention that he was giving her. There could be many men in one room that could be so handsome, but she would single him out.

It was electrifying.

Her painted lips trembled slightly at the sight of his face as he stared at her. It wasn't the one of those creepy stares that she would get every now and then. It was more of a romantic novel stare like one of those movies that border-lined dramatic on romantic scenes. She didn’t know him. Yet, she didn’t care because she had a feeling she will know him very soon.

She nibbled her bottom lip when the drummer took over for the solo, and her eyes were heavily lidded as she mentally beckoned him to come to her. To come closer to her, to lessen the distance between him and her with the crowd in between.

To suppress the electricity charged tension that she had felt earlier before coming upon the elevated platform, she then knew it was him that was making the night called to her. She then shifted her hips to shimmy them to the beats of the drums as it echoed throughout the room.

Her eyes were still on his as she finished the song. She wouldn't be able to look at the song the same way ever again.

Every time she would sing the song in the future, she would remember the icy eyed man in a leather jacket.

Y/N dipped the rag into the running warm water and raised it in front of her as she stared at the dirty mirror of the small dingy bathroom, then dragged the damp cloth across her face to clean up the gold dust off of her cheeks.

When she was at the age of sixteen, she ran away from home; her mother and her father died in a robbery gone wrong sending her and her brother to their guardian. There were more secrets in the family, and more lies that she couldn't take anymore and ran out of the town ever since.

She was a runaway from the quiet town of Massachusetts and had ended up in California after weeks of long days and lonely nights where people paid her no mind and not an ounce of sympathy in their hearts. It had been one cold rainy night on the street in Los Angeles where she met her very first friend and bandmate.

They had a simple idea. A seed, really. It was a tiny seed that slowly turned into roots then it erupted into a wild thing. A simple idea was to form a rock band, whereas everyone chased their dreams, and had been crushed when life deemed to not be satisfied enough to give them what they deserved after a lot of sacrifices and dedication.

Somehow, Y/N and her bandmate were able to make it come true. It was a small dream, really. It went from two, a guitarist and a singer. That was a rough draft; then they somehow got three more. A dream became a reality when she was eighteen when she heard her song on the radio for the first time. She wasn't always the avid music lover; she'd settle for classical music.

When she was a little girl, she wanted to be a doctor; to follow her father's footsteps. After her parents died, that desire went from being a doctor to a writer. A writer about horrors, she supposed. Granted she had enough of them to last a lifetime.

Between running away from a small town in Massachusetts to arriving in a severely overpopulated city that is Los Angeles, music had become her only source of comfort. she had constantly listened to Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, ABBA, Meat Loaf, the Runaways, and etcetera on the radios in the random vehicles as she raised her thumb in the cool days of spring and hot days of summer to hitch a ride or two across the States to realize that the music was her lover. Then from that point on, it manifested into a dream.

No matter how much she played the music, sung into the melody's lips, her lover, she would always be the imposter; inside of the rock persona, she was a nobody, a nineteen-year-old from the quiet town who escaped from her past, because nothing will change the truth about herself.

Y/N sighed as she pulled her leather jacket around her frame tightly as she stepped through the back door and into the October air. She glanced around when she felt a shift in the air; she already sent her friends to the hotel earlier and wanted the night to herself so she was on high alert.

Before she could take a step on the way out of the alleyway, she felt a presence looming over her, and she turned around. She let out a groan when her back slammed against the rough wall, and she opened her eyes to see an unknown man hovering over her with his hand wrapped around her throat, constricting her airways along with a knife to her skin.

"Ah, pretty thing." The man hissed; his eyes flashed maliciously as his lips curled. "Why won't you fight back?" He asked after he realized she wasn't taking control of the situation.

"Are you stupid?" She hissed gasping as she struggled to breathe, "you’re holding a knife to my neck."

He bared his teeth in response which revealed his fury, and he reared back to shove the weapon into the juncture of her neck.

She squeezed her eyelids shut in preparation of the pain that she knew she would feel once his knife cut into her skin, but nothing happened until she heard a gun going off and she felt his fingers loosening the grip on her throat; so, she opened her eyes to see a stunned face reflecting back at her, his eyes were wide, unseeingly and his mouth was agape before collapsing onto the pavement.

Her eyes followed to see a familiar man she saw in the audience earlier, the one who she couldn't take her eyes off all night, standing in front of her with his fingers gripping a handgun in his hand and drops of blood splattered his face.

"You alright?" he asked, his hand -the one not holding the weapon- was reaching for the handkerchief inside of his leather jacket, tugging on it and pulled it out as he placed the weapon back into his holster.

The man whipped the cloth into a loose form as her eyes drew to it; it was white, a stark contrast of himself. White was pure, from what she could tell he was not pure, and she was certain that he weathered a lot of burden in that regard.

She snorted, "I am…” she trailed off, eyeing him. “But who the hell are you?" She asked, shaking her head slightly.

"Chris." His eyebrows shot up with a smirk, then he wrapped the cloth around his face to wipe off the excess of her attacker's blood.

"Well, Chris. Thank you for saving my life." She grumbled, straightening her leather jacket, dusting off some lint off of her shoulders before looking at him.

"You don’t like it when someone saves you?" He asked after stuffing the cloth into the pocket of his pants.

She nodded, pushing a several loose strands away from her face. “Don’t like owing someone a debt.”

He inclined his head towards her, "Let me take you to some place nearby and we can talk more about this," he gestured for her to come with him.

“Can I trust you?”

“Aye, I did save your life after all.” A smirk curled his lips before walking away while pulling out a case of cigarettes out of his leather jacket pocket.

"My mama had warned me about men like you," she said playfully as she slid into the booth underneath the bright lights of the quiet diner. A stark contrast to the night lights in the crowd of the bar.

He clasped his fingers on the top of the dull surface of the table, chuckling slightly, "she told you to stay away from IRA men, eh?”

She shook her head, “no. Dangerous men.”

“Not dangerous around you,” he murmured causing her to blush. “What made you want to sing?” He was genuinely curious.

She looked at him, eyeing him before she exhaled softly. "It was sort of a dying wish; my life has been filled with death and none of people did what they wanted to do…my life was dull ever since my parents died and I had to do something about it. It's like a bucket list, except there's only one thing on the list to do before my death. So, when I die, at least I did something meaningful with my life.”

It had been during one hot summer day in nineteen seventy-six when he heard her voice for the first time. He could recall her voice sent shivers down his spine when it blasted from the radio in his borrowed vehicle, he didn't know who she was then; However, he knew he had to know her.

It was enticing, her voice. When he went across one of the local record stores, he found what he was looking for, and he had remembered his eyes widened, his jaw slacked, and his fingers were gripping on the cover.

He was a fool when he thought that he was done playing a schoolboy with a crush on some hot girls back in Ireland, but the proof was undeniably on the cover that he's holding.

He was curious about the voice of the music, so he had bought it and had listened to it. It wasn't until over a year later, he heard that Y/N and her band were going to play at a bar which happened to be near where he was staying at.

He was already enraptured by her voice, but until he walked into the sporadic room, she had captured his attention to her beauty that the others did not have. By the time she was done with the show, he knew he had to have her.

"Thank you," she murmured while fiddling her thumbs.

He tilted his head sideway. "For what?"

"For saving my life." She smiled softly.

He allowed a small smirk to grace upon his face while gazing at her. "You can thank me by telling me how you were introduced to a different world." He said expectantly, ignoring the tension that rose between them. It wasn't the time yet.

She hummed before telling him the story from the very first night she almost died.

A few hours later, he drove her back to his rental place which happened to be a dingy little motel, and now they're in the assigned room of his.

"I...I don't really do this stuff," she stammered, flushing heavily under his heady gaze.

One thing had led to another as soon they walked into the living room. Electricity surged between them with phantom rope tied them together, and they had to give into the feeling. The tension had exploded literally and figuratively.

It was undeniably inevitable.

He walked closer to her, loosening the jacket, and she forced herself to keep her arms by her side from touching him. She felt the weight of his hand pressed against the lower part of her back as he reached for her. It ascended in a slow line, following the curve of her back from her spine.

"It's okay. I don't do it either," he murmured, and then his fingers curled around the nape of her neck, and her mind quieted.

“I don’t believe you,” she said automatically.

“Well, I don’t, I usually just take them out for dinner, but sometimes it’s tediously boring that we never go that far. You on the other hand…” he trailed off; His other hand drew a trail over the curve of her hip, rising over her waist where he barely grazed over her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat and her gaze averted at his exploration. He dipped his head, his lips hovering over hers. Her lips trembled at the sheer tension as it rose between them.

His fingers caressed her face, tucking strands of hair behind her ears as his tongue slid against hers, and she just pressed her body against his in response, he then gripped her by the waist. It wasn't enough.

It was heaven and hell being close to his presence.

She nipped at his neck, and he gasped. She finally opened his shirt and yanked it from his pants rather unceremoniously, her fingers touching the fabric.

She sucked in a gasp at the sudden pressure of two digits sliding over the underwear.

He held her gaze, her dilated pupils and flushed cheeks utterly entrancing. She felt his fingers hooked into the elastic of her underwear and tugged down, allowing them to drop onto the floor. She inhaled sharply as she felt his fingers trail up her thighs.

His breath was hot in her ear as he murmured her name, her hips bucked forward as he slid his fingers into her.

His eyes trailed over her bare breasts after she reached around her back to unclasp the hooks and dropped her bra to the floor. The light pressure made her knees shake as he cupped her breasts with his fingers, blue eyes gazing as her back helplessly arched.

She lowered herself to the floor, the thick carpet was soft under her knees.

When she looked up at him, she saw his head was thrown back, his eyes closed. He groaned and tightened his grip in her hair, making her eyes roll back.

She felt a flash of arousal clenching her abdomen. That she could easily make him lose control as easy as he could keep a façade. She then swirled her tongue around his cock, taking him deeper with glitter in her eyes.

His body was flushed against her, hovering over her frame, all around her in so many ways in one. She quietly begged him to move. As if he could read her mind, he began to slowly move in and out of her with a swirl of his hips, pushing back in all the way with each thrust.

Her body rocked helplessly against the mattress each time, her breasts bounced slightly with each thrust, a rhythmic pounding that seemed to match her heartbeat. His hips thrusted so roughly that she'd be sore. Her hips would ache, she'd feel him for the rest of the night and in the morning.

His breath came in shallow pants, he whispered against her damp skin that he will make her breakfast in the morning.

That thought made her feel warmer than she had ever been.

#cillian murphy x reader #chris x y/n #Chris x you #Chris x reader #free fire

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maxinemaxmayfield · 4 months

Text

For the STWG daily drabble prompt: glitter ✨

(gen, 138 words, platonic stobin)

1990s, Chicago

Steve fiddles with the top of the plastic container, suddenly nervous. “What if I look stupid?”

Robin doesn’t entertain that thought for a moment, won’t even humor it. “Who the fuck cares? If you feel hot and you’re happy, that’s all that matters. We aren’t in Hawkins anymore, Toto.”

Steve looks at her, eyes lined thickly with black pencil, rainbows smeared across both her cheeks. She’s glowing, in her element, looks more alive here than she ever did in Indiana.

And now he’s here with her, no longer hearing about the clubs and marches and life in the city over the phone. Now it’s his turn, too.

He presses the pot of glitter into her open hand, closing his eyes and leaning in. He can sense her grin as she smears pink shimmer over his eyelids.

#stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin fic #demogorgon daily fics #my fic

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demonichikikomori · 2 months

Note

Ahem. I, uh - so. Epel. We know how he is with his looks, yea? But he is cute. No denying it. And, uh... ya know what makes a cute boy even cuter? Skirts and dresses. And what would make a cute guy wearing a skirt or dress feel manly again? Screwing his girlfriend in said clothes. To show he shouldn't be wearing them to begin with cause he's a man with a dick.

Don't Call Me Cute

Epel Felmier x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.1k+ Tags: Crossdressing/Mentions of BDSM

Art is by kochamame_ on Twitter!

I haven't actually found time to talk about this... I have a thing for crossdressing. A handsome woman... A beautiful man... There's a special allure to it... I actually wanted to write something like this a long time ago but I abandoned it cause I was like ‘no one wants this but me.’

So congrats; You get this!

SUMMARY:

Epel Felmier is a man and has grown sick of you ignoring such an obvious fact.

You smiled to yourself as you watched Epel’s nails, now coated in a glittering pink paint begin to dry. He promised to indulge you in any of your fantasies the next time the two of you would have the schedule cleared for adult activities. Since the last time you indulged him, which involved Epel blindfolding AND tying you up, you knew Epel wasn’t expecting something like this at all. You could see it in his agitated face. How his bright and shiny, aqua blue eyes had lost their glimmer and stayed darkened. “This is what you wanted from me?” He asked through grit teeth as the two of you sat in Ramshackle on your floral print bed.

You had gotten him into a thigh high gothic-lolita style dress. Black and pink, lined with frills and ribbons along the body and skirt. Beneath, Epel was wearing sheer black stockings with pink garters hidden underneath. And to his surprise, you had gotten him a shimmering pair of black Mary Jane pumps. He allowed you to do his makeup with sticky mascara, inky eyeliner, and shimmering tinted gloss. Epel tolerated you painting his short stubby nails he constantly chewed at in the shimmering, glittery pink polish…

The only thing he refused were the lacy white panties you had bought for him. “R’ya mad at me or somethin’?” He asked with a growl as he looked in disgust at his pastel pink nails. “Nope. You promised you would do something I wanted to do.” You purred with a devious smile, as Epel only seemed more and more agitated with you. “And this is what I wanted.” You motioned to him with a small twirl of your finger. He looked extremely cute, it was a shame he couldn’t just smile and enjoy the moment. “You would make a super pretty girl, no wonder the other guys had a crush on you when you were a freshman!” You teased, seeing his anger beginning to boil over as he looked away from his nails, hands now clenched into tight fists. Even years later, he struggled to maintain his temper. He was just as bad as Riddle.

He was grinding his teeth now as you continued to smile smugly in his direction. He reached out and roughly grabbed your wrist in his strong hold. The two of you tumbled back onto the back where he began to smother you in kisses, not caring about his smeared lip gloss or the fact his nail polish was still tacky. He struggled to kick off his pumps as he held you down against the bed, biting and nipping at your soft flesh. “I ain’t a damn girl…” He snarled against your throat as he began to suck on the flesh, tugging roughly at your top to bunch it over the mounds of your breasts as his rough hands yanked at your lounge shorts. “And I’ll prove it.” Epel’s tone deepened as your panties were shoved down your thighs.

You loved riling Epel up, and you loved it even more seeing him crossdressing. His mouth sucking and nipping loudly at your chest silenced your thoughts. His fingers pinched and rubbed at your clit as he let out a soft chuckle. “How’s this? Regretting it now? I bet a girl couldn’t make you feel as good as I can.” He scoffed proudly and you giggled beneath him, holding back a moan as Epel slipped a finger inside of you and began to crook it upwards where a sensitive bundle of nerves was hidden away. “I think seeing you like this makes me think otherwise. A girl knows a girl the best.” You cooed and reached up to run your fingers through his short and curly lavender hair. He looked even more annoyed with your antics. “How about this then?” He added a second finger, pumping roughly in and out of you and you could hear the clatter of his heels hitting the hard flooring. His cock was pressing against your thigh and you could feel his sticky tip smearing pre-cum against your skin.

You shuddered in delight when his soft, pink tongue swirled around a bite mark left behind on your breast. It moved in rhythm with his fingers pressing roughly against that sweet spot buried deep inside of you. He sneakily moved between your thighs, frustrated with yanking the puffy skirt out of the way as he hovered over your bruising body. Your hands fell away to grip at your floral blankets. You glanced up at him with a flushed face as he pulled his slick covered fingers out of you to lick them clean, while lining his cock up with your twitching entrance. His makeup had become askew, your original masterpiece made into a more lusty mess as he looked down at you with a sexual scorn you weren’t sure could be re-created.

“Don’t try running away from me this time.” Epel growled and used the hand he finished licking to swat the side of your thigh. You yelped, and nodded with a wince. “I won’t run away.” You whined as he rubbed the wet crown against your clit before pressing it against your opening. Once, twice, three times before he began to ease himself inside of you. The stretch was dull as you shook underneath him, feeling his hips start to rock against yours and he slowly began to pick up speed. He chewed his lower lip, pulling up at the skirt to show you where your hips would connect. The garters were exposed now and the way they held up the sheer black stockings growing wet with sweat.

Your breasts bounced, leaving Epel hypnotized by the sight as he humped into you with a thin string of drool rolling down his chin. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. Your face contorting with horror as you shook your head and gently patted his arm with a frown. His hips slowed for a second before he understood you with a small nod. He looked frustrated as his fingers reached between your thighs to roughly rub at your clit, pushing you over the edge as you writhed and clenched around his cock.

Epel had pulled out per your silent request, throbbing as you whined from the loss and stroked himself furiously to finish on your stomach. His cheeks burning as his orgasmed with a soft groan, seeing some of his seed pooling in your belly button as it left thick strands against your skin. The two of you were now laying together in a boneless heap, you wrapped your arms around Epel with a wide smile on your face. “I still think you’re a pretty girl!~!” You cooed as Epel muttered under his breath about how he would absolutely get you back next time. You could tell he had as much fun as you did, even if he was pouty like this.

Tagged Accounnts: @candlewitch-cryptic @yandere-kou @butterfly---bones @the-monday-witch + Please fill out my tag list to be tagged in future fics!

#epel felmier x reader #epel twst #epel twisted wonderland #twst epel #epel felmier #epel x reader #twisted wonderland epel #epel x yuu #epel x mc #epel felmier smut #epel felmier x reader smut #twst smut

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z3nitsusgf · 2 years

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I think that homelander would FULLY take advantage of a reader who can’t sleep without cuddling something/someone but is to scared and prides to hug him so they make do with a pillow

“Hm” homelander grins at successfully getting you to depend on him to complete a task as easy as sleeping relishing in how you feel on top of him. He ultimately decides this is how he wants to sleep from now on…💕

The moon is a honey-melon color, haloed in a thick sweet light that drips in the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse. It's quiet, the only sounds coming from both of your breathing. Outside, droplets of rain cascade down the glass of Homelander's bedroom, dew drops of golden light that glitter. August seeps through like ripened cherries, drowning under the swelter of a summer night.

You don’t want to admit that the sound of his rhythmic heartbeats is comforting. That being wrapped in his arms is the safest you've felt in a long time, that it's not as nauseating as you'd hoped it'd be. His chest is warm and pillowy. He runs hot, probably the V that keeps him that way. You find yourself leaning into it more than you'd like. Maybe, this is you finally giving into Stockholm syndrome, at least - that's what you hope it is.

When you inhale, he is all that fills your nostrils. Homelander smells of cardamom, sandalwood, and something sickly irony. Blood, perhaps. The thick laden liquid that has soaked his way into his skin and permanently left him stained, no matter how much he tries to wash it off. You don't think he owns anything else, no normal clothes to lounge in.

He sows his fingers through your hair, carding through it till they snag and he's murmuring something about how it's a "rat's nest". The other rubs the expanse of your back, dipping and tracing along your shoulder blades and the dimples of your lower back. He would melt the two of you together if he could, knit your bones with his, and conjoin your hearts as one.

He knows it's somewhat wrong, to have you rely on him asleep and awake. To manipulate you into needing him even while you've gone to bed. But what's a bit of fantasy feeding if it gets you results? You've been sleeping so poorly, tossing and turning every night even though he offers his help.

All it takes is a bit of a sleeping pill to get you softened up for him. It's not a bad thing if you're finally resting and with him no less. It's his duty to make sure you're happy, that you're healthy.

You're nodding off, eyes lidding, and sleep is hanging over your head like an inviting promise. Your head is foggy, smeared thickly in lavender oil and vintage patchouli. Your hands unknowingly cling to his torso, splaying up to his ribs and feeling him breathe under your palms, each exhale of altered carbon. He shivers at the contact, yearns for it.

"Tired?" He asks softly, his voice strained to a whisper. You hum back, hardly even awake. Muttering something intelligible, something he can't make out. You're slow, thick and syrupy like honey. The most calm you've ever been around him. You can't help it.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. "Sleep tight."

Homelander smiles to himself, hugging you tighter to his chest. Your weight is practically nonexistent to him, more of a warm blanket than a human. It's nice, sweet even. He minds his strength, knows if he squeezes too tightly you'll end up like the nurses from when he was a child.

He knows when you've fallen asleep, the way your heartbeat slows and you nuzzle your cheek into his chest, just under his chin. He could cry, he thinks. It's a flurry of emotions that well in his body. The sinking like stones over the Hudson. You're filling every part of his senses; the comfortable weight, the scent, the way he can feel you drift off into that hazy headspace of dreams.

He's never known what it's like to fall asleep content, without the ache in his chest. You've relieved him of that. And tomorrow you will wake, well-rested, and stretch like a cat lazily bathed in the light of the morning sun.

All thanks to him.

#val.writes ❦#the boys.✮#homelander x you #homelander x reader #the boys x you #the boys x reader

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

Promptober: Day Nineteen

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 900 words.

“Christ, you’re-”

A gasp, a curse, a groan.

“Baby,” Steve breathed out, eyes closed, head thrown back as you planted kisses along his throat with an urgency he’d never seen from you before. “Baby.”

The bathroom door had barely closed before you’d locked it and backed your boyfriend up against it, hands pulling at the zip of his costume, a Top Gun-esque flight suit covered in patches. You’d long stolen his sunglasses, forgotten somewhere on the kitchen counter, hidden by empty beer bottles and sticky solo cups.

“What?” You panted, pulling away long enough from the boy to stare up at him, lips pink and glossy, eyes blown wide.

Your ‘dead’ cheerleader outfit was leaning more sexy than scary, the fake blood you’d smeared on the pleats doing nothing to deter from how short the skirt was. And when you’d turned and flashed him the ruby red spankies underneath before you’d left for Heather West’s party, Steve had bit down on his cheek and prayed.

He felt the same way as you stood before him then, hands clutching at his shoulders, tits ready to burst out of the crop top you’d cut slashes into, the stain of his own smeared handprint on your midriff, painted in the same red as the blood on your skirt.

You’d told him it was for the outfit, but Steve just saw it as another way to mark you up as his.

You were still staring up at him, waiting, the sounds of the party a dull thump from behind the bathroom door and suddenly, Steve couldn’t remember what he was going to say.

So instead, he managed, “c’mere.”

You moved back into him with a renewed need, curling your fingers into his hair as his hands cupped your jaw, titling you the way he liked as he licked into you, kisses greedy and fast, both of you well aware that it would only be a matter of time before someone would be hammering at the door.

Steve turned you, pushed you back against the wood and you could feel the thumpthumpthump of the bass against your bones, the vibrations of the music that played downstairs on your skin.

The boy made quick work of kissing you breathless, swallowing your sighs and gasps, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before sucking a bruise to the slope of your neck. His fingers tucked themselves into your spandex shorts, took them down with him as he dropped to his knees.

You were certain you’d never fucking forget the sight of Steve Harrington on his knees before you, tucking your underwear into his pocket as he raised a finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. His hair was wild, eyes blown, lips pinkier from your gloss and Jesus Christ, he was a pretty picture.

His fingers curled themselves behind the crook of your knee, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder as he moved into the space between your thighs.

Steve pressed his nose to the space under your belly button, kissed the soft skin before moving lower, mouthing at the crease of your thighs. He groaned when you whined, threading your fingers into his messy curls, pulling his lips to where you wanted them most.

He wasted no more time licking into you, hitching your leg higher to spread you wider, brown eyes looking up at you as you gasped and twitched your hips with every pass of his tongue.

Outside, there was a smash of broken glass, the glittering sounds of the shards scattering across the floor and then cheers. You were breathing heavily, pulling almost meanly at your boyfriend's hair, whimpering at the moans he pressed to your clit, his palm squeezing roughly at the thigh he held over his shoulder.

“Steve,” you stuttered out, “baby, fuck, I—”

“Close?” He hummed, barely pulling his mouth from you, the word ghosting over the wet between your legs and it made you shiver. “C’mon sweet thing, give it to me, lemme see you come.”

His free hand that had been pulling at your hip, urging you to rut down onto his mouth moved to circle a digit around your entrance, one finger, two fingers, a white hot stretch that made you bow over Steve’s head, pushing his face into you and it only made him suck harder.

“That’s it, there you go, huh?”

He ran his mouth between licks and kisses, soft sweet touches of his lips despite the filthy things that came out of them and he didn’t stop until you were crying, pushing at his forehead as he overwhelmed you, fucking his fingers into you as you came.

You tasted yourself and the bourbon he’d been drinking when he stood back up and kissed you, sloven and urgent, thumb pushing at your cheek as he tried to touch you everywhere at once.

And then, like clockwork, as you tugged at the zipper on his suit, someone outside started thumping on the door.

It was barely eleven o’clock but neither of you tried to hide your neediness as Steve squeezed his eyes shut and blinked at you, pupils blown.

“Wanna go home?” He asked, pushing his hips into your palm.

You were still nodding as he led you out the bathroom, your free hand holding your too short skirt against your ass, your underwear peeking out of Steve’s pocket like a scarlet letter.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things fic #upsidedownwithsteve's promptober

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