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jennifer-jeong · 2 months

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[Smut] [AFAB!Reader] Men Who Get Feral With You

CONTENT

NSFW, 18+, smut, AFAB reader, implied feminine reader, fictional men being fucking nasty with you, hard kinks, multiple orgasm, fingering, choking, spitting, slapping, breast play, biting, marking, blood, praise, degredation, daddy kink, creampie, aftercare!, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

FUSHIGURO TOJI, RYOMEN SUKUNA, MIGUEL O’HARA, WRIOTHESLEY, Childe

Word Count: 747

He’ll squish your face with his hands to make you look him dead in the eyes as he uses 3 fingers to pull another orgasm out of your aching cunt that’s still waiting to be filled up properly.

“Yeah, c’mon baby, you can handle it… Just like that princess,” he’ll say as you convulse on him as waves of pleasure wash over you.

He’ll bottom out in you immediately, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. You’re especially tight from your orgasm only seconds ago but he loves the squeeze and the fact that you’re absolutely dripping with your own release. He slides in easily despite the extra resistance.

He also gives you no warning before immediately starting off at an insane pace. The rough sound of skin slapping already filling the room.

“Mmmf-fuckkk, have I not fucked you properly recently? Y’pussy's fucking squeezing me,” he says while knowing you can barely respond from how fucked out you already are. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your body remembers me tonight.”

He pushes your legs up and folds you in half as he continues his relentless pace, bruising your cervix as he hits you so deep he can’t even bottom out. He’s too big for you but you take him so well anyways.

He’s so fucking filthy with you. He’ll lean back to stop breaking you in half just so he can choke you with both hands. It’s overkill but you love the light headed feeling you get. Your vision blurs as your tongue lolls out slightly. Your heartbeat is in your ears as the sinful sound of skin slapping starts to dampen, your eyes rolling back into your skull.

He fucking loves seeing you so cock drunk for him as he chokes you. Drool starts dripping down the side of your mouth as he rams into you hard, abusing your sore cunt.

When he releases you, you let out a deep groan as the blood flows back into your delirious mind. Your senses hit you like a truck and the bruising grip he has on your hips turns into pleasure.

“Yeahh, fucking take it sweetheart, I know you can,” he groans. “Be a good girl and open up.”

You open your mouth wide to accept the string of saliva he drops into it. Your eyes are lidded as you swallow it.

“T-thank- Ah! Hngg… Thank you d-daddy,” you whimper.

“Good fucking girl, such a good slut f’me.”

He’ll grip your tits hard and give them slaps from time to time as he uses you as his personal fleshlight, not that you mind.

When he gets close he’ll start marking you like he’s in fucking heat. Biting the sensitive part on your neck, sucking at your skin until it bruises. Sometimes he even breaks skin, lapping up the metallic blood that seeps out.

He always likes to make sure you cum with him though. He’ll aim for your spongey spot as he rubs rough circles into your clit.

“Mmph! D-daddy- feels s’good… m’gonna fucking cumm.”

“Yeah? You deserve it baby. Let go.”

You clamp down hard on him, your orgasm finally fully hitting you as he stuffs you full. You throw your head back in a silent moan before high pitched sobs fill the room. You’re barely even registering his words or how bruisingly he’s fucking you at this point. He’s helping you ride your high but it feels like you’re barely coming down, the waves of pleasure keep coming.

“S-shit- c-cumming” he says before bottoming out, his cock twitching as he fills you with his hot cum. He rocks back and fourth as he fucks it all into you.

Your body is shaking and your legs clamp on the sides of his body, wanting to close from the overstimulation. He leans forward to kiss your neck as you both catch your breaths.

When he eventually pulls out, he’ll collect the cum flowing out of you and stuff it back into your weeping hole, not wanting to waste any of it.

He always treats you so gently afterwards though. He’ll run you a bath, give you a nice massage, make sure you use the washroom, and make you some tea.

He gets so feral for you that you wonder if he’s really the same person with how sweet he is with you during aftercare. But, you both know that you just bring out that side of him, he can’t help it when it comes to you.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST<3 ||

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 month

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”why are you so good at that?”

his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin.

suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away.

and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh.

”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”

he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh. senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood.

and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.

he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you.

a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does — so weak to you, always, your voice a key to his locked-up heart.

”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing his facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.”

a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless.

”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”

it’s not the first you’ve heard of him. suguru’s mentioned this best friend before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do, though; because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer.

that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good. it is practiced — he’s used to soothing other people’s headaches. should you feel jealous?

well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.

before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.

”you must have loved him a lot.”

…

silence.

for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt their movement. just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room — even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen.

it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.

a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.

you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

(why can’t you ever just read the room?)

blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.

— but then suguru breaks it.

”yeah.”

when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.

”i suppose i did.”

…

you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.

just longing.

suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.

and then he’s looking at you.

”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”

before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.

”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”

all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.

the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.

somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.

”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”

he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.

”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”

the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.

he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk fluff #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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hairmetal666 · 13 days

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TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions

Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.

You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.

Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.

He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.

There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.

The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."

And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.

"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.

The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.

The world around him falls away at the touch.

---

He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.

---

They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--

He wants to kiss Eddie.

So, he does.

It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.

---

Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.

He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.

She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.

He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.

Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.

---

He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.

He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.

"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"

He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.

"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."

Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.

"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."

"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.

His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.

Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--

"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"

Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.

---

He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.

A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.

He's pretty sure he has a concussion.

"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.

Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.

"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"

Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.

---

They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.

Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.

They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.

He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.

In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.

---

He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.

"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"

Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.

They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.

"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.

"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.

---

Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--

"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."

Eddie stays limp in his arms.

"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."

The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.

"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."

Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."

He goes still in Steve's hold.

---

The images come faster now--

A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence

Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there

Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize

Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him

Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face

In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head

In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect

---

The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.

Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.

"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"

Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.

The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #soulmate au #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #childhood sweethearts #canon divergent au #everyone lives/nobody dies #glimpses of the future #getting together #break up #getting back together #first kiss #brief stancy #platonic stobin

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highvern · 3 months

Text

Soft

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem! reader

Genre: fluffy smut, 18+

Warnings: sleepy soft domestic sex, oral (m. receiving), praise, cum swallowing, face fucking, soft cheol, mentions of butt stuff (this is becoming too frequent), mentions of thigh riding, begging, dom-ish cheol, sub-reader

Length: 1.5k

Note: inspired by this soft thought. like i literally haven't stopped thinking about domestic cheol the past few days and just loving that man up so here is a short fic to get it out of my system. not proof read!!!! also @bbychocolat thank u for ruining my night with domestic cheol thots

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The winter chill seeping through the window bites against your nose as your boyfriend traces the cool tip of his own against your cheek. Pinned under the weight of his body and the blankets, you float into bliss; his slightly chapped lips repaying all the kisses you loaned him minutes earlier.

Beyond your entangled bodies the bed feels infinite. There's nothing in the world beyond you and Seungcheol. The world is quietly holding its breath as you comb your fingers through his hair.

You urge him to stay on the next pass of his mouth against yours. A gentle suck of his lower lip is all it takes to convince him he's right where he needs to be. His hand caresses your face, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. Your eyes open and meet his when he manages to pull away. Something more than words could ever convey passes between you.

A gentle prod against his shoulder rolls him into the sheets next to your body; the hood of his sweater falling back to reveal the mess of his hair. Longing aches in your heart from his soft face and pouting lips. You’d sit in his lap and kiss him for the rest of time if he asked. If he wanted the moon, you’d find a way to give it to him. Anything for him to keep looking at you the way he is now.

Dipping down, you reconnect your mouths. The wash of his tongue across your bottom lip is soothing as a stream.

His hand doesn’t stop stroking the back of your neck, thumb massinging against the knob of bone at the base of your skull. The juxtaposition of your boyfriend’s strength and how he always treats you as something fragile makes you dizzy.

It’s too cold to undress so you settle for pulling Seungcheol’s hoodie up his stomach. Each inch of skin revealed drives you further down into the pit of desperation blooming in your stomach.

Your lips trace the bottom of his ribs, across the softness of his belly and the slightly raised jut of his hips. The urge to cover him in dark bruises and bite marks sings through your blood but you’ll save it for another time. Right now, you want to worship every piece of your man with the softness he usually bestows on you.

His ticklish laughter curls against your ears when you lick the raised vein below his belly button. The smile against his skin only makes him curl up further.

“Cheollie,” you snicker, fingers soft against his sides.

“Don’t start.”

It’s a warning. He hates being tickled. The first time you found his weak spots, Seungcheol had to pin you against the bed and distract you with something else for you to stop.

And as tempting as that is; it’s still not what you want.

You mouth against the bulge hiding under the fabric of his pants, hot breaths puffing through to his cock. Following the lean, you suck around the tip until his gray sweats are soaked in your spit on one side and his pre-cum on the other. Every twitch of your lips has him swelling until his hands rush to shimmy down his sweats and underwear.

Seungcheol slowly feeds you each inch of his cock, eyes never leaving your own even as you drool into his lap the way he likes. The slick of his cum satisfies you the way nothing else can; the cure for a part of your brain always desperate for your boyfriend to use you.

“So good,” he croaks.

Each lap of your tongue against his length takes him higher, but your desperate whimpers whispering up to his ears are the best part of this. You lick gently at the head, sucking up your reward until Seungcheol’s brain melts out of his ears.

He knows how much you like his hands, his fingers, and never shies away from reminding you of that fact. Especially in a position like this were your eagerness to please possess every cell in your body.

One hand lands on the side of your face, thumb hooking in the split of your lips to stretch your mouth wider around his cock before he forces you to take it. The other finds the back of your head, a silent possessiveness sneaking into the hold.

You test the waters by lifting as far up as you can, almost to the point his cock slips from your mouth, only to find your boyfriend’s firm hand guiding you back down. The please hum budding in your throat makes both his hands squeeze gently in acknowledgment.

A tight fist helps him along, your thumb working along the thick vein webbed on the side of Seungcheol’s cock. Each smoky rasp of his voice lulls you further down. Every praise and sigh whispering across your spine, heating your core.

He bucks when your hand disappears and you try to force the last inches across your tongue. Your face is a wet mess of spit, cum, and tears. Eyes round as you watch Seungcheol’s mouth twist in pleasure when you suck him deep, nose dusting against his pelvis.

The blood in your brain thickens to syrup as he holds you there, throat tight while you choke.

“You’re perfect,” Seungcheol groans through a lazy smile, eyes glazed.

You come up for a quick breath before falling back down. The heat of his palms control your pace, gentle but firm. Not as deep as you can go but far enough you gag if you don’t focus.

The next stroke leaves you scrambling when his cock pops out of your mouth to land on his stomach. A hand manages to catch him but Seungcheol’s own on your cheek keeps his cock just out of reach.

"Stop," you keen, aching in your bones to get lost in the rhythm and taste again.

A thumb silences your protest, curling down on your tongue until you suck on it instead.

Seungcheol knows you’d do just about anything he asks right now. If he said he wanted to fuck your ass, you’d bend over and present yourself without reservation. If he told you to ride his thigh until you came you’d leave his pants soaked. If he wanted to paint your face with his spend... well, you'd probably beg him to before he gets the chance to say the words. It’s thrilling.

His hand not fucking your mouth moves to grabs his cock. Streaks of shine trail across your lips as he traces it around your mouth, his thumb still dug into your tongue to keep you from sucking him back in. Gurgled pleas fall apart as he slaps your cheek with his cock and leaves you covered in more traces of him.

“Gonna let me cum here?” Your boyfriend asks, prying your mouth open to give you another taste before pulling back again.

A tear washes down your cheek as you respond, hands wrapping around his wrists as if you can outmatch his strength and keep him in place.

“Please.”

He can’t say no with the way you present your tongue. Flat and waiting.

You meet him halfway as he thrusts back home. Sloppy claps echo across the room as he fucks your throat until the end rushes him like a riptide.

His hips lift off the bed and into your mouth as he cums, the taste pulling desperate moan after moan out of your lungs. There's so much. Every hot rope flooding your mouth, excess pushed out the corners of your lips for you to collect later.

You keep going, even though your boyfriend is spent and twitches from each lap against his softening length. A pathetic whimper vibrates against his tip when you rub it against your swollen lips, glossing them in his cum, before you swallow him back down.

He loves you like this. Mesmerized by his cock, so desperate for his cum you can’t help yourself. Seuncheol knows if he pushes you off there's a very real chance you’ll cry so he happily lets you continue despite the discomfort. The thickness of his cum spreading across his spent cock used to be uncomfortable as you held it in your mouth. But a late night with you bent over his lap made him privy to your perversions. How you came that much harder when he fucked you with his cum as lube before spilling another load inside you. If he can get hard again, he'll make good on it like he always does.

But he can tell by the way your eyes slip shut and your breathing slows that you’re far too tired to take him a second time.

When you’re satisfied, content that you’ve taken all he’s got to give, Seungcheol hauls you back up to his chest. More adorning kisses tickle your face, each slow and pointed. You know how he feels just by the way he touches you, even if he hasn’t said it yet.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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tarjapearce · 7 months

Text

Laus Be

WARNINGS: SMUT. Double cock Demon Miguel, Not proofreaded, Mild dub-con, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: I'm high af on Advil and had to take this out of my system before I forgot. And yeah jskjs. Probably comes out as crack fic jsksj.

[Laus Be - Praised Be]

Summary: A cult offers you as a tribute to the Demon King himself ~

Viscous crimson liquid rolled off your chin as you were forced the goblet on your lips. Some of its remnants seeping and sliding down your throat.

The chants of cloaked figure around you intensified as they prepared their sacrificial lamb for slaughter. You.

They had not only kidnapped and kept you in the shadows for a while, depriving you from external stimuli that could soil what they had in hand.

Silence had turned your biggest company in the dark, stony, fusty and humid cell, you were being fed with selected things. And no matter how much you begged, they never released you.

You didn't know them, neither their faces, as them remained perpetually obscured by the cloaks. The only indicator they were human was the fresh smell of charred flesh in the back of their palms. A skull like spider symbol burned and forever marked into their skin.

You were kept in the dark until now. Everyone spoke in a foreign language you've never heard before.

One of them dragged you away from the twisted comfort your cell provided you, another group, bathed you in such delicate oils and perfumes, a common practice among the royals, and finally donned in nothing but a white silky and lace robe.

Then you were taken to another room, more like dragged, a golden chalice brought to you. The sickly sweet smelling concoction stared directly at you, but naturally, you refused.

Do not ever accept a drink from a stranger.

Wise words from your old man came into mind, but the wistful thought was shaken away as the liquid was forced down on your throat. Some droplets staining your angelic appearance. Their cloaked leader seemed annoyed you had ruined the immaculate purity your dress limned.

But it mattered not. Not when you were guided to a different room. A room that immediately lit on its own, revealing several pentagrams carved on the floor and walls. Candles melted, but they seemed perpetually alight, neverending incandescence illuminating and warming the room.

An appalling contrast from your cell, from the place in general. There was no windows, not a glimpse of anything that could dictate you who reigned over the skies. Day or night. Your sense of time had been so warped you couldn't even tell how many days your stance in this place had been.

Your eyes felt heavy, droopy and your body shivered. The perkiness of your breast peeking through the silky and soiled gown. One of the cloaked figures pulled you inside the outer circles of the first pentagram.

The contact of their skin made you whimper. You didn't know what had came over you, but certainly that sweet drink you were forced down a little ago, had everything to do with it.

The gates closed behind you, as the mystery people surrounded you. All of them kneeled as their voices united in an ancient chant.

Your mouth panted as they repeated the chant.

Laus be, Rex tuus [Praised be, Our King]

Your heart thumped harder, as your temperature increased. Heat and fear spreading through your body as the circles of the pentagrams begun buzzing with dark energy, soaring into life.

The chants increased, and so the smoldering heat between your legs.

An Aphrodisiac?

You didn't know not cared. The only thing in your mind was to run, as fiery red eyes emerged from the dark mist that disippated into tangible black spiders. Spiders that approached to you in a freakish speed.

Egredere de requiem tuam!

[Rise from your slumber]

You fell on your knees. The presence of the emerging entity had your insides cry in sheer need. Your body was rioting against all rational thought. Need clawed and begged to be acknowledged, but fear clung so hard you tried in crawling away, only for a hand to reach for your ankle and drag you back.

"No!"

You whimpered as the spiders crawled on you, panic rose at seeing them jumping all over your body, you tried to shake them off in your haste, but a low growl made you still. Deliciously low and dangerous. Your heart and clit pulsed.

No, no, no! Run!

The little crawlers hopped on your body again, to your shock, they melded together, taking the shape of hands that were now caressing whatever exposed piece of skin you had as other tugged and tore at the ceremonial robe, forcing you deeper in the pentagram circles, right before the demon.

Palms brushed on your bare body, by instinct you tried to cover up, a pair of hands stopped you. Black mist hands held your arms above you, wrist together as the rest proded at your outer folds, squeezed your breast together, pinched your nipples, kneaded your hips and ass.

"S-Stop!" You mouth lied and the demon before you smirked. His sharp and well sculpted factions revealed to you. Despite the horns attached to his forehead, he was as beautiful as terrifying. Sharp teeth shone when he plunged his big thumb inside your lips, toying with your warmth and moist tongue.

"Don't fight it"

Raspy and underwordly voice echoed through the walls

The summoned hands ventured a couple of fingers inside your now soaked hole. Your eyes drooped even further. A debauched expression coming through your flushed face. You licked his thumb, and engulfed it with closed eyes as the fingers slid in and out of you.

"Surrender to me"

He growled as another finger stretched your squelching and pulsating cunt. His thumb twirled against your tongue as his body took it's final shape. Broad and well sculpted torso, narrow waist with a sight that made you clench around his fingers and your mouth water. Hard and proud cocks, adorned with thick veins, a happy trail decorating the above.

The chants never stopped, but it didn't matter. You were focused on his deep and alluring voice that called you into the depths of depravity where he came from. You were a sacrifice offered for him to devour.

Pushed on your knees and crawling to him, whimpering as his fingers slid faster out of you, edging you to your first demise.

His clawed hand took gently your chin, holding it open as his other hand took one of his hefty cocks and fed you the tip, you immediately took a hold of the other one, stroking your hand on it. All inhibitions gone as your mouth worked him. He tasted rich, tangy and so addictive. He cackled at your shameless cock worship. Both mouth and hand wet and warm.

Your tongue was desperate to taste every inch of him, your eyes glowed in the same red hue. Your strokes on his second cock went faster, nearly fisting him between a tight grip. He hummed in approval

"So eager to please" He grunted and pushed deeper inside you, the stretch in your jaw was worth the pain as he slid in and out of your plump mouth. His hand bobbed your head on his length, coating him with a mix of your saliva and his pre cum.

You gagged but he pushed you as deeper as he could, holding your head still as his hips rammed on your lips, Your nose nuzzling and inhaling his musky and tantalizing scent that not only sent your senses in a stronger riot. He growled as your throat muscles clamped around him, tightly, just like your hand.

"Wonder if it's as tight between your thighs"

He rasped with a grunt and thrusted a few more times before releasing your head. A thick thread of his cum connecting your lips with his tip. You gasped, mouth gaping as the soft and wet noises kept coming from his soaked fingers. Your need to hold onto something only increased as your hips moved on their own, sinking deeper ontop of them.

"Pl... Please!" You mewled in between breathless pants. Your flesh soaked and quivered under his ministrations, imploring to be taken

"Are you begging to be destroyed, little one? Is that what you want?"

You nodded and his sharp fangs came into view as a wicked smile stretched in his meaty lips.

"So be it."

You mewled once more as he pulled his summoned fingers away from your slit, snake like tongue curling around them, taking a taste of you. He growled and pushed you to the floor.

Summoned hands immediately taking a hold of your body, spreading your legs for him to take in the sight of you. His lips were brought into sight as he approached your puffed and drenched cunt.

Slimy and amphibious like tongue slid between shivering folds, to then push in inside you. Clawed hands brought your hips against his mouth. Your hands clenched in tight fists at the pressure

His slithering and coiling tongue made you scream at the overwhelming sensation of him instigating your orgasm. His tongue was a bully, just as his hands that toyed with your clit and butthole.

Your nipples, engorged by the constant pinching and pulling. Toes curled in as you came into his mouth. As he left you, your insides felt empty, in dire need to be filled again.

One would think after such ministration the effects of the lust would tame down, but since the chant of the cloaked figures never stopped, your lust didn't subsided either. It only burned with such intensity you were growing to fear.

The handsome devil positioned himself between your legs, his sprung cocks twitched, ready to be plunged. The summoned hands folded you in half, exposing your holes to him.

The fist one rubbed in between your folds, coating it even further in your slick as the other one poked at your second tight hole.

"Oh God!" You cried as he stretched tortuously slow both of your holes at the same time, only to end up in a powerful plow as you mentioned 'god'.

He growled as his hand squeezed your neck, dangerously tight. Your arms restrained above you

"You'll see what a real god , feels like, wench"

Your spine arched as his hips began moving. To say you felt full was a measly thing compared to how your body was being used. Your lower belly bulged everytime he slid in, he pulled out only to plow deeper. Your skin shook by the rough display of power.

The hands that kept feeding your delusional debauchery, held you in place. The room was filled with your breathless and unceasing pleas and needy cries. A lot of 'Yes!' along with 'It hurts so good' and more 'use me!'

Your hips felt like breaking by the hefty weight of his own as they slapped against yours. Your senses were drowning in the sensorial overload he slowly put you through.

Skin burned, your nose kept smelling him, sweet and musky, adding to your already overwhelmed arousal, His taste reminiscing on your tongue, Your eyes locked in his cocks and how these disappeared into you, taking you to a new level of pleasure you'd never thought reaching. And hearing his growls everytime you clenched around him made you reach your second orgasm right away, despite him just starting using you.

"Pathetic" He sneered

His thrust increased in strength, making you spill out broken pleas and incoherent mumblings. The rough friction felt like nirvana itself. Overstimulation was devastatingly delicious.

Hands turned your convulsing form down. Chest flat against the floor, your arms were restrained behind your back by his demonic hand, and your plump ass, up, awaiting to be ruined.

You took a look at the hooded figures, none of them were looking, but they kept kneeling and chanting like their lives depended on it.

The new stretch on both your holes made your eyes roll back and your jaw to slack.

An array of lewd curses flew out your moaning mouth. His cocks fought for which hole came first. Your sobs choked and were replaced by mild grunts and screams as your body lurched forward at the force his god like body exerted on you.

Bot of your holes were shaped into his girths, stretching and welcoming him despite their continuous bullying.

The back of your thighs tainted red by the rough slaps and thrusts.

Another orgasm for you. Both holes clamped and creamed around him, his cue for giving you a little break that didn't last much as he laid on his back and sheathed you ontop, earning a weakened and shivering scream from you.

"I can't!" The hands held you again, helping your hips to move up and down as they spreaded yours ontop of his thighs.

A frown came into his face, with a swift movement of his hands, he made the summoned limbs to sheathe you faster and rougher. Your slick rolling down his thighs. His hand pulled your hair down as you wailed like a banshee in need.

As much as you wanted to close your legs, it was impossible. Pleasure turned borderline painful as his other hand squeezed your throat. The asphyxia only increased the brain splitting sensations.

The demon king only laughed with sultry mockery at your state. He wasn't even half satisfied, and you were already losing your mind.

What was it? Four? five? The clenching and sobbing from you just confirmed the fifth one.

"Giving up so soon?"

This time, he cradled you into his arms and summoned a throne. A throne where he'd sit down and sunk you once more ontop of him.

You shook your head vehemently, trying to get away. Your arms were numb behind your back. Both holes deliciously stretched, empty and a tired face Miguel still found amusing and endearing as to how you reacted.

He was holding back after the third orgasm. Humans felt always welcoming. But you, you felt heavenly.

So tight and delicious. A need he had to sate every year. The past tributes were outright awful. You had been entertaining him for quite a while now.

His free hand cupped your cheek before his lips crashed onto yours. He moved his hips in a slow motion, trying to give your raving a pause as he took his time in exploring your mouth with his own and his tongue.

Your moist muscle opposed little at the slithering and coiling one that had you breathless in matter of seconds. Your body glistened in sweat. Hair strands etched to your neck, super back and cheeks. Flushed flesh and a dumb gone look that made you even more worthy to look at.

He had ruined you. And it was time to reward your outlasting.

His lips let you go and his hips began moving once more. You couldn't even utter a proper word. Voice hoarse and raspy. Mouth dry.

As he kept pounding and relishing your broken body, you couldn't help but collide against his chest and arch your back, creaming at the base of his first cock as your ass squeezed his second

He took a fistful of your front strands and seized your face as pleasure flooded your senses once more.

"Eyes on me, wench"

Miguel commanded despite your obvious struggle to remain conscious. His pace increased and so did your panting.

Breast bounced mercilessly at his rutting, his lips came closer to yours, you moaned into each other's mouths, before his moved to your neck.

He whispered and groaned things in that ancient language before kissing your tender flesh and biting with his fangs. Marking you as you came with a weakened yelp.

His hand let your arms go to then secure you in a tight embrace while growling and plowing deep enough to have thick spurts of his seed painting your tight and sore walls.

You had achieved what no other lamb had. You had appeased him.

For now.

#king miguel #Miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #demon king #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #t writes✨#spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 x reader

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bokutosbiceps · 5 months

Text

don't be afraid to catch feels

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit

a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !! might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget

NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.

everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.

kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.

kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.

luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you.

you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.

“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”

monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.

“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.

“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”

luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually.

he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.

“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.

“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.

“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.

“different with who?”

“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”

“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?”

“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”

robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!

luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.

you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.

roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.

he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first.

but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.

he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong.

when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.

“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.

“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.

“luffy doesn’t know—”

“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”

zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.

“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.

you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek.

“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”

“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.

trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them.

and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.

you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you.

“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”

you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”

bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it.

a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.

it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.

“that damn bear…”

usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal.

“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”

“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.

“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”

usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.

you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.

“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.

“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.

“what’s on your mind, usopp?”

“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”

a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.

“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.

“no, but you just did.”

vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.

sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous.

when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.

“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”

you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you.”

taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup

#one piece #one piece x reader #kid x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #eustass kid #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #vinsmoke sanji

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months

Text

Fake Boyfriend - p2

Pairings - soft!Rafe Cameron x virgin! Fem reader

Summary - You lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.

Warnings - none

Part one if you missed it

You're aroused from your sleep by the piercing bright light seeping through the curtains, hitting you directly between the eyes. You let out a groan and press your face into the pillow, it feels as though you're on a boat. Your stomach churns as your brain sways within your skull. “Jesus” you mumble, pushing yourself up from the bed slightly.

Panic sets in when you don’t recognise anything in the room, your hands flying under the cover to check you were still clothed.

“God you move a lot for someone with a hangover” a voice grumbles beside you, you sit up so fast your stomach lurches and the growing headache pounds behind your eyes. “Here”.

Your eyes fall to Rafe, he lay next to you, still dressed in the clothes from last night. He has 2 pills in the palm of his hand and a bottle of water, you accept gratefully and lay back down.

Silence falls over the two of you only to be interrupted with his phone ringing, he ignores it and sits up to look at you. “I’m sorry about yesterday, my friend wouldn’t shut up about me not having a boyfriend. The lie just slipped” you speak, he nods his head but stays silent. Your eyes wander over his face trying to pick up on an emotion but it’s unreadable, his blue eyes stare back at you.

“Never had a boyfriend huh?” He smirks, his left eyebrow raises in question. Redness spreads across your cheeks, spinning your body until it hides under the blanket. “So does that mean..”.

“Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing” you exclaim, you feel sick to the stomach. Thankfully you're both pulled away when his phone rings for the second time, he answers it with a huff and pulls himself from the bed.

You peek your head out of the blanket and watch him close the bathroom door behind him, you take this moment to step out of bed. Wobbling slightly on the plush carpet, thankfully the nausea had subsided and you were just left with a headache.

You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and made a dash for it, no way were you going to wait for him knowing he had follow up questions.

You're so close to the front door when Kelsie rounds the corner, she throws her arms around you in delight. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, didn’t want to wake you up myself in case I walked in on something” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You nervously laughed, you probably shouldn’t let her think you were having sex. You know she’d ask for details later and you weren’t sure you could lie about that.

“Hey!” She exclaims, waving behind you. You turn to see Rafe walking towards you with a smirk on his lips, looking away quickly you nudge your friend towards the door. “We should get going” you mumble, gripping her bicep roughly. She shakes her head though just as Rafe’s arm wraps around your shoulder, he brings your back flush against his front.

Your body tingles, well aware that your bum was pressed against where his cock was tucked away. “You can’t leave yet babe, have coffee first”.

Your breath catches in your throat from the nickname, your limbs feel like jelly as you let him push you towards the kitchen. He maneuvers around the kitchen effortlessly and in silence, Kelsie sits on the stool watching him get the coffee machine ready, he turns to look at you and holds out a mug. “Thanks” you manage a smile and step over to help him, he looks down at you for a split second and then over at Kelsie who is tapping on her phone.

“Play along” he whispers, your eyes go wide when his thumb and forefinger trap your chin. Tilting your head up so he can duck down and kiss you.

You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that are let loose in your stomach, your fingers grip the front of his white shirt. His hand pulls you in by your waist, you're trying to remind yourself this is fake. He’s just helping you out, helping you put on a show for your best friend.

“Gross! You’ve been doing god knows what all morning, let me get to know your boyfriend y/n” Kelsie cringes from her seat, dramatically covering her eyes in disgust. But the curve of her lips shows how damn excited she was for you. “What do you want to know?” Rafe questions, placing a mug down in front of her and then handing you yours.

“Everything! How long have you guys been together first?” Her eyes move between the two of you, your mouth opens but no words follow. Slamming your lips closed quickly before she notices. “Only 3 weeks, I’ve known about y/n since she came to the island 2 years ago. Just never had the courage to speak to her”.

Your brows crease together In the middle, was what he was saying true? If it wasn’t, how did he know you moved here 2 years ago?.

“That’s so sweet! Oh y/n I’m so damn happy for you! Anyway you gave me all the goss last night about the two of you, so Rafe what do you do for work?”

You sit in silence while your best friend interrogates Rafe Cameron, you hang onto every last word of his. Making mental notes about everything he was saying, you didn’t know much about Rafe Cameron.

You just knew he was rich and practically owned half the island, you heard a few things about problems with drugs when he was younger but that he got clean. He didn’t bring any of that up though and of course why would he, this whole situation was just to help you out.

“You got yourself a good one y/n! You better keep good care of her, I leave in a few days and I need to know my bestie is well looked after” she says but wiggles her eyebrows at the last part, nudging you in the ribs. You laugh with her and give him a tight smile.

“Of course, I’ll take real good care of her” he winks at you and you're so grateful for the chair that kept you from falling to the ground, one simple movement from him and you were weak at the knees. “Anyway we should get going, I promised you a trip to Charleston” you said, you made your way to the sink to wash the mug but large hands stop you as you reach for the cloth. “I got it”.

“Oh yes! I’m so excited, okay let’s go! Will see you later, yeah Rafe?” You suppress a groan, squeezing your eyes shut at your insistent friend. You open your mouth to tell her he’s got plans with friends but he’s agreeing with her and saying he’ll see you both later.

“I’ll let you say goodbye in private” she winks, skipping around the corner. When you hear the front door lock you turn to him, he’s staring at you again with his bright blue eyes.

“Thank you so much for playing along and helping me out but honestly I’ll tell her you have plans, she’ll be gone in a few days and we can pretend none of this happened”. You state, he doesn’t move from his spot or acknowledge what you’ve said for a few moments, you stare in silence.

“I’ll play your fake boyfriend y/n” he says, placing his mug into the sink and stepping towards you. “You really don’t need to, I’m apparently really good at lying” you reply, you give him an awkward thank you hug and dart out the door.

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, rushing towards the Uber waiting for you. You couldn’t believe you had gotten away with it, one little lie worked and now you no longer had your best friend in your ear about finding a man.

The two of you went home to shower and change, spending your day over in Charleston. Showing Kelsie around the town and shopping. Your feet were on fire by the time you stepped through your front door, you dropped your bags to the floor. “I need to lay down!” You announce, walking straight to your bedroom and dropping onto the bed.

You must have passed out because you're waking up in a dark room, your shoes have been taken off and a blanket draped over you. Your ears prick up to the sound of music, what was Kelsie doing?

You threw the blanket off you and stepped into your bathroom, you grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned up the mascara that had smudged under your eyes. Racking a comb through your hair and stepping back out of the bathroom.

The moment you open your bedroom door you are hit with loud music and the smell of tequila, you follow the noise towards the living room. “There she is!” Your best friend screams, she comes charging at you wrapping her arms around your neck.

Your eyes land on Rafe who sits on the one seater velvet chair, legs spread wide. He sends a smirk your way and raises his glass as a hello. “What is happening?” You question, noticing Rafe’s friends lounge on the couch and your friends looking at you in confusion. Oh god.

Your lie was about to unravel, you hadn’t thought about Kelsie meeting them. “I grabbed your phone while you were sleeping and organized a little get together! But you missy need to stop deleting messages it was very hard to figure out who your friends where”.

You were more concerned about how she got Rafes number, it would have been suspicious for you not to have messages with him. “Luckily everyone was saved in your favorites” she says handing you your phone, when she isn’t looking you search your phone. Rafes name pops up under favorite number 1, he must have put it in there last night? He was a lot better at this fake dating than you had expected.

“Hi” his voice whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your neck sending familiar shivers down your spine. His fingers dance around your hip stopping at your stomach, flattening his hand against you he pulled you back against him. “Hey” you managed, you say, he could tell you were flustered from the pink creeping up your neck until it made home on the apple of your cheeks. “You were asleep when she texted, I’m not as good of a liar as you” he joked, his eyes looking behind you for a moment and then his lips were on yours. You had now been kissed by 3 boys in your our lifetime, his lips were your favorite so far.

“Get a room!” Kelsie shouted, she poured tequila into shot glasses and began passing them around. “Let’s get this party started!”.

An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach, Kelsie never usually drank this much when she was around you. She knew you weren’t much of a drinker, especially since your dad was an alcoholic.

You stared down at the shot in your hand, you really didn’t want to drink tonight. Before you could even bring it to your lips Rafe was swapping his empty shot glass with yours and throwing it back. “You didn’t have to do that” you whispered, his hand still laying upon your stomach. You could feel him breathing against your back. “You didn’t want it”.

He gives you another soft smile and looks back at everyone in the room, Kelsie has turned the music up louder and pulled everyone into the middle of the lounge. “I just need to talk to my friends quickly” he nods his head and drops his hand from you. He watched you make your way to your friends and took a seat back on the seat he once occupied.

“Girl! You didn’t tell us you were seeing Rafe!” Sam exclaimed, she was in pure shock. Your three outer banks friends had lived here all their lives, they had known Rafe since school. “I’m sorry, it’s so recent I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it yet”.

“That’s okay, totally understand! It’s Rafe Cameron for crying out loud, I never thought I’d see the day he settles down” Grace says, she looks over at Rafe who is still watching you. They send him a smile and look back at you, an uneasy feeling in your stomach again.

“Yeah who knew” you laughed, you stood with them for a bit longer until the feeling of his eyes on you made you squirm. Walking back over to him, he pulled you to sit on his lap.

Your legs sat between his open ones, body nuzzled into his side. His arm around your shoulder, it was surprisingly comfortable and not weird. “We should probably discuss this fake boyfriend thing” he whisperedMy, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You really don’t have to pretend after today”.

He chuckles and moves in his seat a little bit, your thighs rubbing against his groin. The redness once again painted on your cheeks. “You underestimate your friend”.

You look over at Kelsie who’s dancing away with Topper, both of them look like they escaped the mental hospital.

“You might be right” you agreed, unsure why you feel so content against him. You’d sat on boys' laps before and cuddled, it usually made you feel uncomfortable and you’d run off before they got the wrong idea.

“She's here for 3 days, so if you were possibly free over the next few days I’d be forever in your debt” you say, turning slightly to look up at him. He tilts his chin to look down at you, something flashes behind his eyes but you can’t quite place what it is. His smile is intoxicating, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the perfectly straight teeth could kill me. “I can be free BUT I need a favour from you”.

“Yeah?” Your heart beats a bit faster and harder in your chest, what could Rafe Cameron possibly want from you? “I’ll need you to come to an event, I need a plus one”.

“Oh sure thing” you answer a bit too quickly, earning a smirk from the man under you. “Let’s talk about rules then?”

“Rules?”

“Yeah, you’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by doing anything you don’t want” he states, his tone is serious and his smile has vanished. “Oh” is all you manage to say to him, he moves again sitting up more straight so you both face each other.

“If I touch you anywhere you don’t like or want, or if I kiss you and you don’t want it, you just tell me. I won’t be hurt”

You nod your head, his hand cups your face and his lips touch yours for only a brief moment. “Sorry… they were watching”.

You turn your head and every snap their head back to what they were doing, a soft chuckle leaves your mouth and you look back at Rafe.

“Okay, and if you're busy or no longer want to be my fake boyfriend you just tell me. No hard feelings”

“Okay”

“Shall we kiss on it?”

You're the one to press your lips to his this time, it’s not quick like the last one. It’s more intense, his tongue snakes between your lips and you're moving in sync. This was a lot better than any of the other kisses you shared with someone.

“Sorry, I thought we’d give them a show”.

“Right” you breath, clearing the back of your throat and laying against him again. Was it normal to enjoy a kiss from a fake boyfriend that much?

Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting

Part 3

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kingkatsuki · 2 months

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— bunnies

Don’t mind me, he makes me quite insane.

It’s no secret that Rayne loves bunnies— but most of all he loves the bunnies on your panties.

Pairing: Rayne Ames x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, flashing, cunnilingus, hinted public sex, panty theft. Relationship not specified so can be read as established or a hook up!

Word Count: 1.1k.

Rayne had always liked bunnies.

It’s no secret to anyone, least of all you. It’s why you’re so excited to show him the new piece of clothing you bought with him in mind, just for him—

“Hey, Rayne. Do you like these?” You flip your skirt just enough to show the man the flimsy cotton hidden beneath. He glances over his shoulder before eyes widen large as saucers when he hones in on the pattern that decorates the pink material— cute little white bunnies dotted all over.

Rayne swallows thickly as he turns his body to face you, instantly feeling his cock throb at the sight. Hypnotised for a moment before you stop the show, letting the hem of your skirt swish back into place against your thighs.

“Aren’t they cute?” You coo with a sly smirk on your face, “I bought them just for you!”

He’s wordless. Not even certain he’d know what to say anyway as his heart pounds against his rib cage. Instead, he takes a step closer as he invades your space. Surrounding you in the musky scent of him as he presses you back against a table, caging you in as you stare up at him with innocent eyes— knowing you’re anything but.

“Do you like them?” You tilt your head to the side and he ignores you again.

You’d expected them to rile him up, and they’d succeeded in their job judging by the bulge between his thighs. His cock strains against his trousers as he tries desperately to even out his breathing. You also expect him to chastise you for being so lewd in such a public place, showing off where anyone can see— but nothing could have prepared you for what Rayne did next.

Silently curling his palms beneath your thighs to sit you up on top of the creaky table, spreading your thighs apart as your skirt begins to bunch around your hips.

“They’re cute.” He hums, revealing the bunny panties to his diluted pupils as he drinks you in. Rough palms stroke against the curve of your thighs as he follows a path to your core, kneeling between you as he comes face to face with bunnies.

“W-what are you doing?” You hum, shocked by his forwardness as he admires the sight in front of him. You’d expected the tips of his ears to turn red and his cheeks burn before chastising you for teasing him, to tell you to quit messing around and keep your dignity. But instead he reaches out to touch you— Thumbs delicately stroke the stitching, passing over your outer labia as you sigh in bliss. Feeling your clit throb as he follows the path of fabric, goosebumps sprinkle your skin as thumbs tickle the apex of your thigh.

Rayne’s fingers stroke against the soft cotton so tenderly, tracing each bunny individually. Your breath hitches in your throat when his thumb grazes your clit through the fabric, rolling your hips as you plead silently for contact.

“Pretty.” He hums, following the heat of your slit as calloused pads feel your wetness beginning to seep through the material. Pushing it between your folds to soak it in your slick as you keen at his touch, desperate for more.

But Rayne never indulges your pathetic attempts to rush him, especially not when you’re wearing these. He appreciates that you’ve picked them especially for him, all his. His fingers prod at your entrance through the panties, feeling your walls flutter beneath them as they try to coax him inside. Your cunt throbs from neglect, desperate for some semblance of relief as you spread your thighs on instinct. Hoping the slight change in angle would be enough to get him to move his fingers beneath the soft cotton.

Your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when Rayne leans down to press a soft kiss to your mound, just above your throbbing clit as the most debauched whine leaves your lips— a noise that even catches you off guard when you can’t believe he has you like this with the slightest touches.

You can feel how wet your panties are now, the sopping fabric clings to your sex as Rayne travels lower, pressing another soft kiss to your puffy clit before wrapping his lips around it. Sucking the cotton into his mouth as he hungrily slurps at your cunt, holding your thighs apart to prevent you from clamping down around his skull.

“Rayne, please don’t tease me—” You mewl, hands fisting his hair as you try to push him harder against your slit.

His fingers still poke and prod at your entrance, calloused pads barely grazing your hole as you rock your hips against them. Pathetically fucking yourself on what little he offers you, golden eyes watching intently from his position between your thighs.

It’s deplorable that he has you like this— so close to coming undone having barely touched you. Your entire body feels like molten lava as he continues his ministrations, cotton soaked with spit and slick as you ride his face.

“Fuck, Rayne.” You cry out, practically wailing as your thighs hang over his shoulders, “I’m close.”

His thumbs press against your pelvis, increasing the pressure as the coil inside you is dangerously close to snapping. His tongue constant against your clit as he wills you to come undone, to drench the fabric with your release.

“Oh, fuck.” You whine, your tight hole clenches around nothing as you feel yourself succumb to euphoria, the pleasure consuming you whole.

“Cum for me.” His low voice vibrates against your clit, the sound has you meeting your release with a pathetic whine of his name. Toes curl inside your shoes and your hips jerk roughly as you feel the coil inside you snap and you let the waves of pleasure surge through you like a freight train. His strong hands hold your hips steady as he helps you ride out your release, the flat of his tongue presses against your clit as you heave a sigh of relief, “Good girl.”

It’s barely thirty seconds later when Rayne’s fingers curl into the elastic of the panties, tugging them down your thighs as he watches the way the fabric tacks to your skin, swallowed by your folds as he languidly pulls it away. Silvery wisps of your slick cling to the fabric as they break off against your skin, leaving evidence of your climax against the crotch as he pulls them over your feet— your shoes still perched on your feet as he dangles the cute bunny panties in front of you like he’s been awarded some sort of prize.

“Real cute.” He hums, his fingers stroke through your wet slick that dampens the crotch before he slips them into his pocket without another word.

If only you’d known this was how easy Rayne Ames was, you would’ve shown him your bunny panties a long time ago.

Rayne Ames has always liked bunnies.

But most of all he likes the bunnies on your his panties.

#Rayne Ames smut #Rayne Ames x reader #Mashle smut

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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.

about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.

“you could kill me if you wanted to.”

it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “

“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.

“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”

“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.

you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”

“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”

satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.

his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.

in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.

he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”

there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.

“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”

“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”

“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.

“i need you.”

“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”

“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.

usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.

those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.

“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”

but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”

your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x yn #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #idk im sad and i love him #self indulgent slay #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted #angelshubnetwork

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inkykeiji · 5 months

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character: shigaraki tomura x fem!reader warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dry humping, rough messy kisses, tomura is a meanie words: 1.3k

just been daydreaming about kissing tomura’s scars and leave the prettiest, sparkliest smears of pink lip gloss along his neck and collarbone ♡ and how much he supposedly ‘hates’ it ♡

“i told you to stop doing this,” his voice vibrates against your lips, head tilting further back, allowing you more room to work. “you’re making a fucking mess.”

“m’sorry,” you murmur into the curve of his shoulder, not seeming apologetic in the slightest, planting another kiss, hard and puckered and full of purpose, to the protruding bones. “can’t help it.”

“b-bitch,” he keens out, curse fading to a gasp on his tongue.

giggling, you string another garland of pecks along the curve of his neck to the hinge of his jaw, then across the defined edge, leaving smears of pretty pink lip gloss.

it’s real cute, you think, the way he acts as if he doesn’t love it, grumbles about how sticky it is, how it clumps his hair together and dries all hard and shimmery, but secretly he loves finding remnants of glitter—of you—all over him; his fingertips, his collarbone, his lips, his hair, his eyelashes; tiny sparkling reminders that you were there, that you’ve staked your claim, leaving a galaxy of constellations across his body that bear your name.

he acts as if it’s such a nuisance, as if he doesn’t adore the way your lips paint his fresh gouges, new gashes, in the prettiest shimmers of you; your gloss, your drool, your scent—notes that linger far after you’re gone, notes that seep into his skin, that produce phantom tingles of longing when he’s laying alone in the middle of the night, warm and wiggling beneath his flesh.

he acts as if he doesn’t find it breathtakingly beautiful, the way his self-inflicted scars glimmer, the worst part of himself made pretty by you.

he acts as if if it doesn’t make his cock twitch in his jeans—even though you know it does, even though he knows you know it does, indicated by your girlish giggles as you bounce a little in his lap and lick another fat strip of saliva up the column of his neck, tongue tracing over that prominent adam’s apple that trembles with a growl or throbs with a thick swallow, to punctuate the lick with a sticky, gloss saturated kiss, right beneath his chin.

he acts like this for as long as he can stand it, for as long as his soul will allow it, until he physically can’t take it anymore, the clawing at his chest and in his veins too much to bear, large hands curling around your hips and squeezing, hard, holding you in place as he ruts up into your clothed core, movements sloppy and uneven.

there’s no finesse to it, no set rhythm or pace, hips bucking wildly as he compels you to stay put, damn it, the demand spit out in a ragged whine.

his mouth clashes against your own in a crude imitation of a kiss, sucking your lips into his mouth with enough force to yank a yelp from your chest.

sharp teeth scrape your upper lip and the underside of your nose, leaving raised, raw little abrasions in their wake as they gnaw on your mouth, bottom row grating over your chin and dragging up, harvesting fat globs of the sticky substance behind their sawtoothed edges.

muffled moans soak into your flesh, pitchy and splintered to bits by heavy pants as he restlessly scours your mouth, scrubs it near clean, teeth depositing clots of gloss onto his tongue.

it hurts, the constant rubbing of his teeth leaving your skin chafed and bloodied, but he doesn’t fucking care, greedily swallowing down your resounding squeals and cries, starved for any bit of you he can devour.

it hurts, but you don’t discourage it, instead twining your arms around his neck, fingers pushing into the fluffy tufts curling up at the base of his skull.

“uh, fuck,” he whines, voice grit and gravel, mouth mashed against your own.

his tongue unfurls to lap at your lips, now glazed with a watery crimson, desperate to slurp every last ounce of gloss from your swollen mouth. it flattens against your face, slick muscle laving in hard, repetitive motions back and forth, back and forth, gathering the remnants of make-up and coating his tongue and his teeth in the tacky glitter, tainted with the taste of copper.

those little whimpers and mewls have morphed into grunts and groans, shoved from his throat into yours as his tongue finally enters your mouth, now satisfied with having sucked the first layer of skin from your lips.

it’s all so fucking messy, drool weeping from the corners of your conjoined mouths and leaving sticky streaks across your jaws and chins, edges of your teeth clacking together as your tongues tangle and brush and massage one another, slick and slippery as they push and curl.

his pleasure is hot and heavy on your tongue, little jolts surging through your skin with each sound huffed out in time with the irregular rocking of his hips.

his cock is so hard, straining painfully against his jeans, throbbing as if it’s desperate to burrow through the thick denim to your cunt, but tomura won’t let it get that far—tomura can’t.

because tomura needs to cum now, tomura doesn’t have the time to wait, tomura doesn’t have a goddamn second to waste, fucking into you through layers of fabric, thankful you’re in a skirt, thankful your panties are so fucking slutty, made of lace so thin, so delicate it’s barely a barrier at all.

if he concentrates hard enough, he swears he can feel your hole, empty and yearning, clenching with every stroke of his cock over your clit.

it’s almost enough to make him cum right there.

bony fingers flex on your waist, unsure if they want to stop your movements or speed them up, blunt nails gouging dark, deep crescents into your skin.

you make the decision for him, pace quickening as you grind down on his cock—come on, tomu, come on, tomu—and he mewls again, something high and pitchy and dense in your mouth, hips jerking up in response.

his forehead knocks against your own, hard enough to make you wince, pain searing through your temples. your noses nudge together, clumsy and inept with the haphazard rolling of his hips, steadily accelerating with each rut against you, desperate to match the pace you’ve set, to exceed the pace you’ve set. the fingers tangled at the back of his skull push further into his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp in lopsided little circles, evoking another low moan as he shoves his head harder against yours, desperate to give you more room to work.

he’s getting close now, hands tightening as they force you to move even faster, thighs tensing as the pressure in his tummy builds higher and higher, heavier and heavier with each of your motions, hips stuttering as they fall out of tempo again, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“fuck, f-fuck,” the curse fractures in his throat, eyes shut so tight they crinkle at the corners, breath exhaled in harsh tatters out his nose. “i—i’m gonna—”

“do it,” you nearly beg in a stringy whine. “ruin your jeans for me.”

“oh, christ,” he chokes on a sob, another three gyrations of your hips and then he’s obeying, cock pulsing almost violently and filling his pants with hot, thick cum—so much, too much, way too much that it starts oozing through the denim in viscous, ropy dollops to smear across your inner thighs, the coating pretty and pearly glazing over your skin.

leaning back, you look down, spreading your thighs a little further to examine the damage, tensing and tilting the muscles to fawn at the way his cum shimmers in the dim light.

“now who’s the one making a mess?” you tease with a giggle, gazing at him through your lashes, and he rolls his eyes.

“this is nothing,” he’s growling as he hoists you up, one big hand clamped around your elbow, already beginning to drag you along behind him. “i’m gonna show you what a real mess looks like.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you

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xob1tchs · 9 months

Note

“You belong to me” “only me” “you’re mine” “flirt with someone else, watch what’s going tk happen to you” smut with rafe

call me fucking dumb

rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings; crying, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex

a/n; honey im hoooome 😇 sorry for the impromptu hiatus! I was moving 😵‍💫 anyways…this is the title inspo ;p and also p short…and not really edited!

your fingers tighten around his firm bicep, swollen lips parting in a strained breath, toes lifting off the ground, free hand taking purchase against the dresser top – just in time to prevent you from toppling over the edge.

“s-slow down baby! m’gonna cum again” you plead, eyes screwing shut, tears welling at your lash line, thighs tensing.

rafe hums, cock thrusting into you harsher, making your pussy squeeze, juices seeping out around the base, squelching from your wetness.

you cum for the umpteenth time, voice raspy and strained as you cry out, tears finally cascading down your red cheeks.

you twitch beneath rafe, cunt so sensitive it hurts, knocking the breath from your lungs when he doesn’t let up.

“you didn’t care when you were all over jj did you? acting like a slut, right infront of me” he complains lowly, voice smooth in your ear, unwavering.

it’s frustrating, prompting you to whine out, begging for mercy, only to be met with a scoff “you think you deserve to be treated good? deserve anything at all?” he chuckles, making you sob harder.

“i-i-i promise rafe, promise’ll be good, i am go-good” you stutter, hiccuping around your words, nails drawing blood against the firm muscle of his back.

his pace slows only slightly, enough for him to lean back and look into your eyes, hand gripping your jaw, fingers pressing into the hollows of your cheeks, steadying you.

“you’re fucking mine, my perfect little slut” he barks, sending you over the edge yet again, earning a incoherent ramble from you, mindlessly agreeing, drooling down his knuckles, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“pull some shit like that again, see what happens” he smirks as you slump forward into his chest, barely conscious, but still you nod, agreeing to whatever he says. like you always do.

#outer banks #outer banks smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #fanfic smut

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catopoliscat · 17 days

Text

sweet dreams, good morning / fem!reader/kento nanami.

you and your boyfriend nanami usually showered at different times. this morning, he decided to join you.

tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab!reader. established relationship. shower sex. penetrative sex. no set timeline but presumed canon!verse. fingering. creampie. unprotected sex (wrap it kids). nanami had a little dream about you. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.

wc: 3.6k.

a/n: inspired by some nsfw pieces @jimwackthesecond sent to me of nanami on discord, ty babes I'm still throbbing about it

mdni.

It was rare for Nanami to join you like this.

Even after months of living together, of being by each other's side; of cooking, eating, drinking and sleeping next to one another—showers together were rare. It wasn’t any conscious decision, really, just a difference in routine. You preferred to shower in the mornings. Nanami preferred to shower in the evenings. Small moments of solace and quiet amidst the hot water and soap. A moment of solitude between lives so tightly intertwined.

Today, however, Nanami had surprised you.

You were halfway through your usual semi-methodical routine, soap suds still clinging to your arms and chest, when you felt the door open. A cool gush of air rushed through the fog of the warm bathroom for a moment, skittering up your back in a gentle caress. You shiver, hearing Nanami’s familiar footsteps, but think little of it. You had thought you had been quiet when you had slipped from his sleepy embrace, wanting to give him a longer lie in bed for once—but perhaps you hadn’t been quiet enough.

Any moment, you had expected the tap to start running, the sound of toothpaste being uncapped and bristles against white teeth. Instead, the sound of rustling clothes just about reaches your ears over the sound of water thudding against the tiles beneath your feet, and then comes the slide of glass, a footstep and—

—strong, warm arms encircling your waist tightly, as if you might disappear into smoke if he let go.

You smile softly to yourself as Nanami presses up close against your back, hard pectorals slotting against the ridges of your shoulder blades. The heat of his chest is a strong match to the warmth of the water against your front, seeping into your bones and warming you from the inside out.

A nose nudges at the crook of your neck, moving upward before soft lips press against the spot right behind your ear. You chuckle softly, leaning back into the caress, eyes fluttering shut.

“Not like you to shower in the morning,” you murmur, barely audible over the rush of the water.

A low hum is your response. The arms wind tighter, and a large, calloused hand settles on your navel. His thumb brushes up and down in a languid, repetitive motion. You shiver slightly.

“I had an incentive,” Nanami replies, his voice a husky rumble, throat still thickened with the remnants of sleep. He presses another kiss against your skin, his lips lingering this time. “You don’t mind?”

You chuckle again, shaking your head as you settle it back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his collarbone against your skull. “Of course not.”

Even after all this time together, seeing each other at your most vulnerable, Nanami was always aware and respectful of boundaries, even unspoken.

A contented silence settles in the bathroom, broken only by the spray of the showerhead. Morning sunlight spills through the frosted, dewy glass, reflecting off the mirror that paints a portrait of a couple, very much in love. Nanami’s thumb continues its gentle caress, a soft swipe up and down that becomes as familiar to you as your own heartbeat. His other hand rests against your ribs, just underneath your breast, but makes no move to touch or cup it just yet.

A sleepy comfortability takes over you. Between the heavy warmth of the water and steam, as well as the steady thrum of Nanami’s heartbeat behind you, you find yourself leaning more and more into his form. He supports you easily, hands tightening just slightly to bear more of your weight. You start to distinctly remember why you rushed through showers in the morning—sleep still clinging to your mind like condensation on glass.

It was a weekend, though. Neither you nor Nanami had any work or missions, no business or meetings. There was no world to save. Not today.

“I could fall asleep like this,” you mumble, eyes still shut.

Another feathery kiss, against your shoulder this time. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

Although the idea of crawling back into still-warm sheets is appealing, you shake your head. This was enough. More than enough.

You wind a hand down your body, settling it above Nanami’s own where it rests against you. You don’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his, and he doesn’t hesitate to hold them, giving them a small squeeze.

With his one thumb now restricted, his other thumb takes over its brother's repetitive motion, occasionally brushing against the underside of your breast. Although initially accidental and easily forgotten, the movement gradually becomes more intentional. Daring. One particular sweep brushes over the swell of your breast. The next is even higher, just across your nipple.

An involuntary breath leaves you as the slight sensation causes familiar goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Your lips part slightly as you arch into the touch, the curve of your back pushing your hips back into—

Ah.

A soft puff of breath leaves Nanami’s lips as your ass brushes against his cock, the hard length rubbing up against the cleft. His grip tightens on your hand, and you can feel his responding shudder. He quickly moves his hips back again, keeping his chest pressed up against you instead.

You smile to yourself, a touch wryly. Nanami wasn’t easily worked up, and certainly not in tender moments like this. You can’t help but wonder if this is the product of just the proximity, or something more.

“I’m flattered that my sleepy morning self has this effect on you,” you drawl, a layer of amusement in your tone that you can’t quite shed.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, as if he has anything at all to apologise about. “I…”

You feel his lips open against the skin of your neck, but he shuts them again. That makes you raise an eyebrow, your eyes blinking open to squint against the steamy bathroom. You try to angle your head to get a look at him, but the angle is difficult. When you try to turn your body to face him properly, however, his arms tighten around your waist, preventing you from doing so.

It wasn’t like Nanami to be this… reserved. Not this far into your relationship.

“Nanami?”

Another gush of air flutters against your wet shoulder, something close to a sigh of resignation. “I dreamt about you,” he finally says, the words imprinted against your skin. “This morning.”

Ah.

A wet dream? Hardly something to be self-conscious about, you think. Especially when you were clearly the star of said dream. Nanami was always oddly prudish around certain things, however. Traditional, in some senses.

“Oh? How rude, we hardly know each other.”

You can almost feel the responding eye-roll in response to your teasing humour. He gives a small squeeze to your intertwined fingers, as if telling you to take this seriously—though you refused to. A dream was a dream, and you were less concerned with the fact he had one and more concerned with what exactly was in it.

“I’m a thirty-year-old man,” he grumbles.

“Who’s still human,” you remind him. You push your hips back again, pleased to feel Nanami’s cock still very much hard, nearly pulsing, against the swell of your ass. He exhales a slow, steadying breath, but makes no move to pull his hips away again. “Tell me about it.”

Another small sigh against your shoulder. You can practically feel his hesitation, unwilling to unveil the explicit nature of his dream just yet.

You push yourself back against him again, a slight movement of your hips that has his cock pressing a little deeper against your skin. You buy yourself a small grunt in response, a choked sound that hitches in the back of his throat.

“Come on,” you chuckle, the sound a little throaty now. Sensing he needed a little more push, you unlink your hand from his to lay atop his other one, guiding it up to cup your breast properly. “Did I at least look good?”

“Mm.” He gives your breast a small squeeze; a well-practised, perfect amount of pressure that always makes your thighs clench together. “So beautiful… as always.”

“Where were we?”

Another hesitation, though shorter this time. He occupies the time by kneading your breast slowly, massaging it almost in his calloused palm. “On a beach. It was just us. White sand, palm trees, lapping waves… the sun was so warm.”

You smile at the picture he paints in your head. “I’m sure we made it feel warmer.”

You feel a shuddering breath against the back of your neck before he hums in agreement. You can only imagine that whatever memory of his dream is replaying in his mind is a good one, because he presses his cock against you more firmly.

“Yes,” he mutters against your nape, before pressing a hungry, hot, open-mouthed kiss against the skin there. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

By the way he’s groping at your breasts and ever-so-subtly grinding his hips against your ass, you would say you have a general idea. You want to press him for more details on his dream. What did you do to rile him up so? What did he do in the dream to make him pursue you to the shower when he awoke?

All those thoughts and questions are disappearing from your mind, however, as the hand against your navel is drifting down between your thighs. Your lips part in a soft exhale as he cups your heat, his middle finger running down your slit almost teasingly, smearing the dripping shower water along with your own arousal.

Another shuddering breath fans against your neck as he dips his middle finger between your folds. “You were so wet, so tight around me,” he whispers, his words almost swallowed up by the sound of the shower and your own heartbeat in your ears. “It was maddening. I… I couldn’t stop.”

He circles your clit once, causing your hips to twitch and a soft moan to leave your lips, before he dips his finger down, pressing it against your entrance before sinking inside. You both seem to moan simultaneously as your inner walls clench tight around his thick digit.

“You were so…” He swallows thickly around another groan. “…loud. Insatiable.”

In, out, in, out. He thrusts slowly, languidly, as if savouring every contraction, every syrupy moan that left your plush lips. Slick gathers quickly, and before long the sound of his thrusting finger becomes wetter and wetter. A second finger soon joins the first, his palm pressing against your clit as his ministrations quicken, your thighs shaking in response. The steam of the shower, the heat of Nanami at your back, the fog of lust in your mind and the increasing pulse between your legs—it makes your head swim, your mind hazy and uncoordinated.

He curses as you grip his fingers particularly tight, as if imagining the sensation around his cock instead. You feel a pressure against your nape, and you dully realise it's his forehead, hot and wet with sweat and water. “Please,” he murmurs, his low voice hot and wanting. “Can I have you? Here?”

Even after all this time, he still asked—still cared enough to ask—even though your answer was always the same.

“God, yes,” you’re replying before he’s barely finished his question, every thought in your mind evaporating into the same steam swirling around you.

You’re leaning forward, arching your back before he even makes any move to position you, both of your palms resting against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Shower water sprays across your shoulders and the back of Nanami’s neck as his head follows your descent, forehead now planted between your shoulder blades. His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, but his other hand does disappear from your breast. A moment later, you gasp as you feel his fingers slip from you—replaced instead by a familiar pressure.

His cock, thick and heavy, presses against you, hesitating for only a moment before pressing forward slowly. The thicker head slips past the tight ring of muscle with a sharp stretch, your lips falling open in response as a ragged moan leaves you. No matter how many times you had done this, Nanami’s cock was always a stretch, making each time seem like the first all over again.

“God,” he gasps, his jaw falling open against your shoulder blade. “P-Perfect… so perfect.” You can feel him practically shaking with restraint as he pushes forward slowly, oh-so-fucking-slowly, until his hips finally meet your rear. As always, he gives you a moment to adjust, no matter how wound up or turned on he is—his one hand bracing against the wall near your own, the other winding back around your waist to circle your clit with slow, languid movements.

You’re shaking too, you realise, hands slipping on the wet shower wall. You clench tight around his cock despite his attempts to relax you, too wound up and dizzy with arousal to care about the discomfort. Bucking your hips back, you try to press him impossibly deeper, as if you weren’t already full of him.

He groans at the attempt though, the slight friction you grant him causing his fingers to stutter against your bud. Quickly getting the hint, he pulls back just a few inches before sinking back into you again, just as slowly as before. You both moan again at the delicious drag, before he starts to set a slow, steady rhythm—pulling out a little deeper every time until the tip threatens to slip from you with each thrust.

You had expected something quick, frantic perhaps. The dream he had seen had clearly riled him up. But Nanami was still Nanami—slow and methodical, passionate and loving.

Long, hot puffs of breath fan against your neck, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips against you. You can feel his eyebrows knitted against your back, and in your mind's eye, you can already picture his expression perfectly. Flushed skin on his high cheekbones, the sweat on his brow, the slight scrunch of his eyes and parted lips.

Every thrust pushes deep, his slow pace ensuring that you felt every inch of each push until he bottomed out, only to repeat the whole cycle once more. His hand on the wall slips, bumps against your own, and with trembling fingers he places it on top of yours, pinning it against the wall before intertwining your fingers tightly.

“I love you,” he groans, his voice thick and gravelly. “I love you, ngh—“ He pushes deep again, stills for a moment as he grinds against you, before withdrawing again. “I love you so much.”

You meet his every thrust, pushing your hips back until your skin meets his with a satisfying ‘pap’. The slow, deep pace is driving you insane, deliciously perfect and yet wildly maddening. You can feel the heat pool in your gut with every stroke, the warmth blooming hotter and hotter like the slow lap of waves, threatening to consume you.

You’re greedy, you know. You need more.

You push your hips back in a quicker rhythm and Nanami’s hips stutter in response, his rhythm thrown off. He hisses, clenched teeth brushing against your nape. The fingers on your clit disappear, a strong hand grasping the plush flesh around your hip instead, steadying you. You expect him to stop you or slow your rhythm down, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stops thrusting altogether, allowing you complete control of the pace as you fuck yourself on him.

He’d always allow you to take what you wanted from him.

“Ah, y-yes, yes—“ you pant, forehead pushing forward to rest against the cool tile. You tilt your hips, angling Nanami’s cock to prod against the exact spot you need him. He curses in response to the harsh clench of your walls around him, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. “Kento—“

“Tell me what you, ngh, need,” he grits out, now matching your rhythm until the clap of your flesh starts to match the pour of the water. The hand on your hip slides up, caressing your waist in loving strokes before winding around, palming at your breast again. “A-are you close?”

“Yes!” You start to push back harder, more frantically. Nanami instantly matches it, thrust for thrust, the head of his cock dragging against your sensitive point with almost pin-point accuracy. He pinches, tweaking your nipple in a way that makes your thighs shake. “Harder, I need it—“

You don’t even have to say another word before both of Nanami’s hands disappear, only to grip your hips tightly. You feel the warm of his chest leave your back as he straightens, replaced by the spray of the shower water instead. A moment later, his pace becomes almost punishing, the hard lines of his Adonis belt hitting against the flesh of your rear with a smack.

You practically reel, something guttural and primal leaving your lips as you arch forward, bracing fully against the tiled wall in front of you. You can feel your flesh ripple, your breasts jolting with the wet smack of flesh against flesh. Even now, he’s careful never to push harder than you need it, but experience and attention allows him to get it perfect. He was always perfect.

A chorus of ‘just like that’ and ‘yes’ leaves you in a symphony, your eyes rolling and eyelids fluttering simultaneously. It doesn’t take long until you're practically clamping down on his cock like a vice, your lower stomach clenching impossibly tight as ragged, fractured moans tear from your lips. Distantly, you wonder if you’re as loud as you were in his dream—or maybe louder.

Nanami doesn’t fair any better, harsh grunts and choked groans leaving in him in rhythm with the clap of his hips. With each thrust, it seems his body hunches further inward until he’s practically curled over you, his grip tightening on your hips, thumbs digging into your skin. Deep moans smother against your shoulder as lathers you with kisses, half-formed praises coating your skin with his love.

“I’m close, my l-lo-“ He chokes up, curses, hips stuttering as he tries to maintain the hard pace. He starts pulling your hips back to meet his, cock plunging seemingly deeper and deeper—

Stars are exploding behind your eyes a second later, your abdomen clenching and rolling as you cum hard around him. You call out his name, you think, jaw falling slack as Nanami continues to thrust and thrust you through your climax, pushing you toward oversensitivity and fast. You’re clenching down on him tighter and tighter, unable to stop as you babble nonsensically, delirious and drunk on steam and release.

“S-Shit,” he hisses, his voice barely there, just breathless and torn. “So b-beautiful, so perfect, I love you, I love—“

A second later, Nanami’s following you over the edge; a deep, broken moan leaving him as his cock twitches and throbs, spilling into you. He continues to move, his hips erratic and rhythm broken, just bucking disjointedly as his voice cracks and splinters.

You’re trembling, he’s trembling, both of you panting and moaning weakly as Nanami continues to grind against you, albeit slowly. You rest your forehead against the cool tile in front of you for a moment, your hot breath making the ceramic fog up—before Nanami’s arms wind around your waist, pulling you back up and against his chest.

Your thighs are shaking, body nearly limp in his arms, but he supports you once more easily. Soft kisses and brushes of his nose rain down against the crook of your neck as his hand brushes up and down your stomach, his cock still throbbing weakly inside your warm grip. You let your head loll back against him, a tired, contented smile on your lips.

You reach a hand up and behind you, fingers fumbling for a moment before his head leans into them. You card your fingers through the short, wet strands behind his ear, a small sigh fluttering against your ear in response.

“We should shower together more often,” you murmur, which earns you a small, slightly breathless chuckle, the rumble of his chest vibrating against your back.

Eyelashes flutter against your neck as he closes his eyes. “We should.”

“In the evening though,” you add. Between the hot water and well, everything else, your body was sated but drained. “I really could fall asleep now.”

The idea of stepping out of the warmth of the shower and Nanami’s embrace only to get dressed and continue with whatever you had planned for the day wasn’t an appealing one. As if sensing this, his arms hold you tighter, unwilling to break the moment, or your intimate connection, just yet.

“Then do,” he murmurs against your ear, before pressing a soft kiss to the shell. “I’ll take you back to bed.”

And you know he would. You know that if you were to fall limp in his arms right now, he’d carry you; dry you off and settle you amongst the sheets again as if you’d never left them. It wouldn’t even be a question.

You stay awake though, body still thrumming with remnants of your connection and your muscles at ease. Tilting your head slightly, capturing a glimpse of his profile, you raise an eyebrow.

“…so?”

Nanami meets your gaze, raising an eyebrow in turn. “So?”

“Was it as good as your dream?”

He closes his eyes with a tormented sigh, burying his nose back into your skin. “…it always is.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief, angling your head to try and face him better despite him seemingly burying his face in your skin deeper, unwilling to meet his gaze. “Always?! How many dreams have you had about me like this?”

You feel a small nip at your neck, just a brush of teeth really, but that seems to tell you that these ‘dreams’ of his were far more a regularity than the stoic sorcerer was willing to let on.

masterlist.

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

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