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xxsabitoxx · 3 months

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Gojo Satoru NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 4 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Satoru is a mix between affectionate and exhausted. He’ll shower you in kisses and soft praises while yawning, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. He’ll mumble something about cleaning up after a nap, even if you’re squirming because you’re sticky he’ll assure you that after his nap, he’ll clean you up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Satoru loves your thighs. He honestly loves every part of you but something about your thighs just draws him in. He loves to lay on them, squeeze them, hold them, feel the straddling his face… they’re just so soft. He can’t get enough.

Satoru is pretty proud of his hands. He enjoys the way you compliment them, the way they feel slotted in your own. He loves the way they make you squirm and whine, he loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Satoru can be a bit of a pervert, he has a fascination with cum. He’s very partial to coming inside of you or at least on your sex. Something about the sight of his pearly cum covering you or leaking out of your entrance drives him absolutely insane. Satoru is also rather fascinated by his cum staining your underwear, especially after a quickie. He’ll see his own release dripping out of you and hike your underwear back up before you can clean yourself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Satoru is a panty sniffer and he tries to be sneaky about it. He’ll find your used underwear in the hamper and use them to get off, sniffing them while tugging his cock or using them to aid jerking off. What he doesn’t realize is you purposely leave your underwear around for him to “find”.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Satoru has a good amount of experience, enough to know what he is doing. But he can also argue that his consumption of porn videos and raunchy hentai aided his abilities. He’s a hands-on learner so it’s not surprising that he got a hang of things pretty quick.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Satoru enjoys just about anything but he likes positions where he can be really – and I mean almost suffocatingly – close to you. Mating press, missionary, spooning, cock-warming, etc. Anything where he can fucking squeeze you and keep you from getting away.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Satoru is fairly serious but that doesn’t mean he won’t make sly comments or even joke with you a bit. He adjusts his own “humor” to what you like. He wants you to be comfortable so if you seem to relax more when he jokes around and talks to you a lot while fucking, he’ll do it. But he’s also capable of keeping the talking to a minimum, letting his body do the work while praising you endlessly. Though if one of you fumbles around a bit, he will not hesitate to chuckle. He thinks its really cute so don’t take offense.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Satoru’s hair down there matches the hair on his head, he rather likes that so it’s very rare that he’ll shave or wax it bald. Though, again, if you request him to, he’ll do it. Satoru maintains himself very well, cleaning himself every day and trimming every 1-2 weeks.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Satoru can be disgustingly romantic when fucking you, especially when he’d close to coming. He tends to blabber a bit, telling you how perfect you are, how much he adores you and needs you, that he loves you. He means every word of it too. He’s always down for less serious, playful sex, but he’ll still make sure to let you know how much you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

1-3 times a week depending on his schedule and how long he’s away from you. He’s not shy about it, taking time out of his busy day to get off when he absolutely needs to. He claims it clears his head, sometimes he really can’t focus if he’s too worked up.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Satoru really enjoys praising (both giving and receiving). Truthfully, he’s really into bondage and shibari but he can get shy about it. He just likes the idea of restraining and being restrained. He supposes it can count as a kink, but he really likes fucking you while you wear his blindfold or eye wraps. He finds it hot, especially since you can’t see what's coming next.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Satoru knows himself and his body well enough to know he will knock out after sex 9/10 times. His favorite places to fuck you are all within your own home… and within range of your bed. He loves to fuck you on a bed of course, but he also enjoys just about any surface of your home. He even made it a little game once you moved in together, keeping mental notes of what rooms he had fucked you in and what rooms he still needed to.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He feels a bit basic for this, but cute clothing and cute lingerie really does it for him. He enjoys when you dress up, maybe wear something sexier, but he’s very drawn to the pastels and laces on the various lingerie you like to buy. Sometimes it’s just as easy as batting your eyelashes for him and Satoru will find his cock twitching to life.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NEVER force you to do anything, but he is also willing to try just about anything you desire. Satoru draws the line at slapping and intentionally hurting. Even if you beg him to hit you, the most he’ll offer is a spank on your ass or chest but he’ll never slap your face.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Satoru is addicted to you going down on him. This man lives for blow jobs and he is not ashamed to admit that. He also adores going down on you, considering himself very skilled in that aspect. But fuck does he love it when you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood and your preferences. Satoru will tailor your sex excursions to fit your needs perfectly while still taking himself into consideration. Naturally, Satoru falls into the rough category with his hips moving quicker than he can handle sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Satoru is down for a quickie so long as you promise him caffeine or sweets after. I’m serious when I say this man will pass the fuck out after he blows his load. He prefers taking his time, not having to worry about being late for an event or being walked in on. Though he never really cared in the first place, people can wait on him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Satoru will try anything at least once. He’s not shy with experimenting and isn’t afraid of risks. He understands that bodily functions can and will occur while trying different things (such as anal or pegging for example) and he understands things can… go down. But he’s fine with that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Penetration wise, Satoru is a one and done kind of guy but he can push two or three if he’s really worked up (both hormone wise and adrenaline wise). When inside of you, Satoru can last between 5-8 minutes. But he makes sure to get you off as many times as you desire before getting himself off and calling it a night.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Satoru has no shame in using toys, both on himself and on you. He thinks they’re fun, and he finds no competition with them. Rather he uses them to enhance the experience instead of letting it do all the work. He’s very partial to the “magic wand” vibrator he bought for the two of you to use. Going as far as to buy a backup for when the original stops working.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satoru can and will tease you until you are sobbing but he makes up for it by making you come as many times as you can handle. He’ll never leave you hanging, even as a punishment. He’d rather overstimulate you than leave you with nothing because he knows how frustrating that can feel… and he just wouldn’t feel right about it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man does nothing to keep his voice down or his volume to a minimum. He is moaning, cursing, whining, whimpering, begging, he has no shame in any of the noises he makes for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Satoru has toyed with the idea of a threesome but would give you full reigns on who the addition would be. He doesn’t mind if it’s a man or a woman, he’s not picky. But the more he toys with the idea the more he realizes how possessive he is over you and can’t bring himself to approach the topic with you. He’s not self conscious, he just… he thinks nobody can satisfy you like he does so why waste their time for a mediocre experience.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft he’s about 5 ½ inches (14cm). When it's hard, he’s just shy of 7 inches (around 18cm). He’s girthy, enough to need preparation before entering you but nothing too painful. He’s pretty straight, a slight curve to the right but it’s not very noticeable. He’s pale, a flushed pink tip with veins running along his shaft. He’s very pleased with his dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high but he can control it well. Satoru can get a bit cranky if he doesn’t have sex at the very least four times a week. Even then he considers that to be too little. But with a busy schedule he’s not always home so it can’t always work out in his favor.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Literally within thirty seconds. He’ll keep himself up for as long as it takes to get you comfortable and settled in his arms and even then he’s out within two minutes.

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skzdarlings · 1 year

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04. sharing a bed series ; skz ; hyunjin

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 4/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. penetrative sex n the pull out method lol. also hyunjin n reader were drugged the night before, premise is based around them getting married in vegas under the influence and not remembering how it happened in the morning. drama llama antics ensue.

Hyunjin has the heart of a sentimental corvid; he loves his people, but he’s weird and sneaky about it. His propensity for dramatics is only in certain situations and the rest of the time he is quiet and tends to balk at grand displays. He definitely does not like cuddling or hugging. He will only begrudgingly suffer through it when his more physically affectionate friends get the bright idea to attack him with their loving arms.

So you are wildly confused when you wake up in your hotel room with Hyunjin plastered to you, hugging you so tightly that you are halfway convinced he glued himself there. His chin is nestled on your shoulder, his breath coming softly against your neck. The hood of his grey sweatshirt is pulled over his head but some of his long blonde hair still falls on your face. You blow at it unsuccessfully, getting some in your eye. He holds you tighter.

What the hell?

You arrived in Las Vegas yesterday and while most of last night is a foggy blur, you do remember the room had two twin beds. Sure enough, there is a second bed just a few feet from yours, the covers completely untouched. The neatly made bed is a stark contrast to the mess of your bed: the duvet sliding off the foot, the pillows on the floor, the bedding partially untucked. All the sheets are wrapped around your body like a cocoon while a shivering Hyunjin clings to you, presumably for warmth.

You try to roll over but your bedsheet-burrito has you trapped, never mind Hyunjin’s death grip of a spoon.

“Hyunjin,” you whisper. “I can’t breathe.”

He grumbles and squeezes you, making you squeak.

“Hyunjin,” you say, a bit louder. “Wake up.”

He groans in his sleep and buries his face further in your neck. His nuzzling sends shivers shooting down your spine.

“Hyunjin.” It comes out like a croak. You try wriggling your shoulders. “Hyunjin, wake up!”

He makes a disgruntled sound but doesn’t move.

“Oh my god,” you say. “How are you such a bitch even when sleeping? Wake up!”

When he stays sleeping, you are forced to take drastic action. You turn your face and blow, hard. His face scrunches up and he finally stirs.

“Ew,” he says, slowly blinking his eyes open. His mouth draws into a sour pout, his brow tight. “Stop. Your breath is so disgusting.”

“Ahem.”

He makes a fist and rubs his eyes. His dark brows are still furrowed but there is modicum of clarity when he looks at you. It takes a minute to fully register your proximity, his eyes flicking here and there. Finally, they open wide.

With remarkable speed, Sleepy Hyunjin concedes leeway to Drama Queen Hyunjin. He mewls like a frightened cat, ripping away so quickly that it knocks the air out of you with an oof.

“What—” he starts.

He is interrupted when his thrashing makes him slide. You are still bundled in your bedsheet-prison and can only watch as the clumsy oaf slides backwards right off the bed. All those long limbs make a frantic windmill as he shrieks on his way down, hitting the floor with a heavy crash and groan.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Ugh,” he replies. “My head.”

“Are you dying?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well, when you’re done, come help me.”

His hand appears first, thumping onto the messy bed. His head follows with an exhausted peek over the mattress. His hood has fallen back and his long hair is infuriatingly neat considering everything. Hyunjin is so beautiful that it is ridiculous. All he does is run his long fingers through his hair, shake his head a little, and he looks picture perfect.

“You’re staring,” he says with a scowl.

“It’s because you’re so ugly,” you say.

“Liar,” he says. He makes a V with his fingers and licks between them. “I’m sexy and you love me.”

He is correct, so it is only natural that you try biting him.

You chomp at him when he approaches, threatening to bite his fingers when they get too close to your face. He pinches your nose between two knuckles and squeezes.

“Hyunjiiiiin, staaawp,” you say in a nasally whine.

He does, but only after playfully snapping his own jaws in your direction.

“I should just leave you here and have a peaceful day,” he says.

“I’ll kill you and bury you in the desert.”

“Gross. Can’t you bury me on the strip?”

“I’m gonna feed your carcass to some desert scorpions.”

“Ew.”

It takes some effort, but Hyunjin manages to find where your blanket-burrito starts. He grabs it and tugs like the annoying bimbo he is. Your protest comes too late and he whips the blanket open, sending you flying off the bed. You land with a heavy thud of your own.

“Oops,” he says. He rustles through the sheets to peer over the edge of the bed. “Are you okaaaa—whaaaat are you wearing?”

You were already dizzy before Hyunjin decided to throw you around like a human tennis ball, but now it’s even worse.

You have no idea what happened last night but it clearly involved a hit of something way, way, way stronger than usual. It takes you a minute to come back to reality. After shaking your head a few times, you are able to push yourself into a sitting position. You finally look down.

You freeze.

“Hyunjin,” you say. “What the fuck am I wearing?”

“That’s what I just—”

“Hyunjin. What the fuck am I wearing?!”

It is an utterly useless question because it is abundantly obvious that you are wearing a wedding dress. A big, poofy, princess wedding dress with giant puffed up 1980s sleeves and enough cleavage on display that Hyunjin almost falls off the bed because he is tilting his head so much.

You yank up the skirt as if that will offer any answers. You find a pair of white stockings, one still neatly clipped to a thigh garter and the other halfway down your calf. You stare at that stocking for a long moment, the vaguest recollection of something fighting its way through the fog of your druggy, drunk memory.

“Uh,” Hyunjin says.

You look up at him but his eyes are downturned to his own wrist. You look there, your own eyes widening when you see what he sees.

Your missing garter is looped around his wrist like a silky white bracelet.

An image comes flooding back. The periphery is still in smog, but you distinctly remember Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, gathering his long hair into a ponytail as he smirked up at you. You remember him lifting your skirt, his head disappearing under the pile of white lace.

You look at each other at the same time. Did he just have the same memory? Does he remember more? You have no idea and you can’t bring yourself to ask. Your voice is shot to hell, swallowed up by the heart that seems to have jumped into your throat.

The silence is tense. It is hotter than the desert in here.

“We didn’t…?” he finally says, pointing between the two of you.

“No way,” you say. It sounds very uncertain.

He lifts his other hand to tuck some hair behind his ears. That’s when you see it. Hyunjin wears so many rings so often that you completely missed it at first. But right now his hands are bare save for one unfamiliar ring in a very particular spot.

Hyunjin follows the trajectory of your horrified gaze and freezes when he spots the wedding ring. He slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“Oh my god,” you say. You are afraid to check your own hand but it is imperative. Hyunjin looks at you, his shocked hand still covering his mouth. Together, you watch as your hand shakily rises out of the pile of white princess lace.

There is a wedding ring on your finger too.

You and Hyunjin scream at the same time, him clapping both hands over his ears as he hollers and you shaking your head and kicking your feet. After your mini-freak out, you wave your hands to silence him.

“Stop, stop!” you say. “It’s okay. Be calm. Be quiet. This is okay.”

“We got married,” he wails, dragging his fingers down his face. “My mom is gonna kill me.”

“Your mom? YOUR MOM? Hyunjin, I’m gonna kill you before you even leave this city, so don’t fucking worry about your mom.” You mime throttling him because he is too far to reach.

Hyunjin flops down on the bed. He lays on his back with his arms folded like he is ready to be mummified.

“Oh my gawd,” he says. “Oh my gawwwd…”

“Look, we might not have even done it,” you say. It takes a lot of effort and you fall on your ass twice, but you manage to stagger ungracefully to your feet. “Some rings and a dress don’t mean anything. We were probably just goofing around. What do you remember?”

He is still in a mummification pose, his eyes closed.

“Nothing,” he says. He frowns. “No, wait. You were hitting on some ugly bitch of a man and didn’t listen to me, as usual, and the loser put something in your drink so I drank it to prove a point. But then you still drank it because you’re the worst, and I dragged you out of there.” He covers his face with both hands. “Then we got married and ruined our lives.”

“Okay, the last part you don’t know for sure,” you say. You stumble around the bed. “I’m gonna go wash up and clear my head and sort this out, because there’s no way we—” You stop when you spy something sitting on the television stand. It takes a few clumsy steps to reach, but you get there.

“Uh oh,” you say.

“Is that a marriage certificate?” Hyunjin asks.

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” He rolls over so he is facedown on the bed, his voice muffled by the messy blankets. “I love this.”

“I’m gonna… go… wash up still,” you stay. You sigh and gather up your dress to stomp over to the bathroom door.

“Brush your teeth,” Hyunjin says. “Your breath is gross.”

“I hope you suffocate over there and make me a widow.” You close the door with a pointed shove.

You want to disobey him on principle, but there is a truly nasty taste in your mouth so you brush your teeth before anything else. You avoid your reflection for as long as possible because the crazed madwoman in the mirror is a terrifying sight to behold.

You reckon with her monstrous appearance eventually, tidying up as best you can. You remove the stockings and garter, gulping when the memory returns. You splash a lot of cold water on your face and it helps ground you.

Just as you begin to feel cleansed, you feel an itch on your throat. You crane your neck and tentatively touch the sensitive indentation, the raised bruising of a hickey. Touching it awakens another memory, one that strikes hot at your core.

Hyunjin. You. This hotel room. He pressed you against the door and caged you in, forearms on either of your head. Despite his presence looming over you, you did not feel nervous. You touched him as if that intimacy was something you always shared. You remember him cupping your face in one hand and turning your head, him kissing you softly on your temple and cheek, him breathing lightly over your throat before sucking a hard kiss under your jaw. He was all teeth and tongue, drawing moans out of you while you bucked against him. You remember him grinding against you, remember him pinning you to the door. You remember stringing your arms around his neck and him picking you up, then it all goes black again.

You turn away from the mirror, still holding your neck.

Did you… no.

Did you?

No.

You didn’t fuck Hyunjin. No way. You would have remembered that much. If nothing else, there would be evidence now. A used condom or a mess somewhere, a twinge between your legs. You are both fully dressed. You even have underwear on. It’s not the underwear you were wearing when you first left the hotel room, but it is underwear nonetheless.

One thing is certain; you did not go that far. He took a bite out of you and carried you to the bed where you probably passed out. How you got into a blanket-burrito, you are not sure, but at least it protected your dignity. Whatever was left of it, at least.

You step out of the bathroom only to walk straight into a pacing Hyunjin. You bonk heads and cuss each other out, swatting the other person out of your way.

He walks over to the bathroom and is about to step inside when you release a sigh.

“I have a hickey,” you say.

He pauses in the bathroom doorway.

“You gave it to me,” you add.

You cross your arms when he turns around, his gaze suddenly too hard to meet. You tap your foot and stare at the wall.

“I know,” he says. “I remember it.”

That draws your attention. You look right at him and plant your hands on your hips.

“Well, what else do you remember?” you ask.

“I—I—ugh! This is so annoying! Ugh!” He grabs his head and shakes it like a snow globe.

His stupid beautiful hair is barely ruffled and he still looks amazing when he surfaces. He runs his teeth over his plump bottom lip and you suddenly remember him grabbing your face with both hands, him smiling at you as a hot breeze fluttered around you, him holding you steady as he planted a big, wet kiss on you. It makes your whole body lock with tension, barely paying attention to the Hyunjin in front of you now, the Hyunjin on the verge of a meltdown as he intentionally smacks his head against the doorway.

“We came back here,” he says. His whole face is scrunched up with disgust like he just ate something bad. “Then I gave you that.” He slaps a hand over his face. “Then you… tried…” He puts the other hand on his face too.

“I tried what?” you ask, heat creeping your neck.

“You put your hand down my pants,” he croaks, hands over his eyes. “I said we should wait until morning and you started crying. I think you tried to give me a lap dance while crying, actually.” That does sound like you, drugged or not. “Then I…” He points to the messy bed. “I wrapped you in the sheet to protect your honour.”

“My honour? Ewwww. Don’t call it that.”

“I’m gonna go drown myself in the shower.”

“Hyunjin, wait.”

Once more, you stop him before he crosses the door. He sighs and his shoulders deflate. Pushing a hand through his hair, he turns around.

“What?” he says.

“I’ll take care of this, okay,” you say gently. “We weren’t ourselves. Thank you… for taking care of me. Seriously.”

He sniffs and looks aside, the tips of his ears turning red. You try to ignore the pitter-patter of your heart.

“It’s Vegas,” you say. “I bet they have drive-through divorces. I’m just… I’m just sorry this happened.”

“You are?” he says, staring at the ground.

“Of course,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster. “Hyunjin, I know you. You’re a goofy old romantic. I’m sure you’re not happy about your first technical marriage happening while you were drugged up, and to someone you don’t even love. Right?”

He looks a little panicked when he meets your gaze. It flashes in his eyes for a second, then he looks away. He crosses his arms protectively over his chest.

“Hyunjin,” you say. It feels like someone just lit fireworks in your chest. “You… don’t… love me, right?”

There is a long moment of silence then he throws both hands in the air.

“Why do you say it like that?” he demands. “Would it be that bad if I did?”

“What.” Your jaw falls open. “You love me?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Sorry for inconveniencing you with my goofy romantic feelings.” He snarls at you. “It just happened. If I could have stopped it, I would have, but I can’t. So live with it.”

“What kind of love confession is this? You’ve watched like a million romance dramas and that’s what you come up with?”

“I’m a painter, not a poet. Good-bye.” He is quick this time, jumping into the bathroom and slamming the door closed.

It leaves you standing there, jaw still hanging open.

Hyunjin loves you.

Of course Hyunjin loves you. How could you be so stupid? All this time, you had yourself convinced your best friend was unattainable because he’s the most gorgeous creature on earth, but all this time he loved you and you didn’t even notice. He drank a drugged drink just to protect you. He got a bit nutty in the head and married you, but even at his most fucked up, some intrinsic part of him sprung to your defense. No matter how out of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that could potentially hurt you.

Oh my god.

Hyunjin loves you. You love Hyunjin.

You are pacing when Hyunjin exits the bathroom and smacks into you. You bonk heads and curse, again, then he brushes past without saying anything more. You watch him go to the clean bed, watch him fold back the covers. He takes off his hoodie and his pants. Despite how many times you have casually dressed down around each other, this time you find yourself looking away, hot in the face. When you look back, he is in a t-shirt and his boxers, sliding under the covers.

“What are you doing?” you ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“Going back to sleep,” he says. “I’m tired.”

He doesn’t look at you once. He rolls onto his side and faces the wall, laying stiff as a board.

You touch a finger to the mark on your neck and shiver.

“Hyunjin,” you say, to which he just grunts in reply. “I want to sleep too. I’m sorry, but can you help me with the dress?”

He exhales and closes his eyes, shoulders dropping, but then he flips the covers down and gets out of bed. He still doesn’t meet your gaze. His strides are long and quick and, before you can blink, he is in front of you.

You open your mouth to speak but he grabs you and spins you around. It feels like an electric zap from your heart to your pussy, hands instinctively clutching your chest in surprise.

You can feel him fiddling with a few buttons, muttering expletives to himself.

He is still wearing the ring. So are you.

“Hyunjin,” you say softly. “I love you too.”

He has his fingers on the zipper. He stops.

“What?” he asks. He stops touching you entirely so you look back at him. He is tucking hair behind both ears, shaking his head. “Don’t just… say it,” he says, still staring sideways. “That’s worse than not hearing it.”

“Hyunjin,” you say. At least he looks at you this time, even if it is with uncharacteristic uncertainty. You smile at him. “Unzip me please.”

You turn back around, chewing on your bottom lip.

It takes a second, but Hyunjin does what you asked. You feel one hand on your back, the other circling the zipper. He tugs it down slowly and you shiver as the cool air conditioned air kisses your back. His fingers brush your bare skin when releasing the zipper.

“Thank you,” you say, glancing back at him.

He nods curtly and spins around. You smile, watching him march back to the bed. You turn your back to him when you let the dress drop, then you remove your bra. His open luggage is nearby so you slip a t-shirt out of the suitcase. It smells like him, his favourite cologne, and that alone gets you hot.

With a final tug on the hem of the t-shirt, you turn and walk up to the bed he is in. He is sitting upright but under the covers, his hands folded neatly in his lap while he stares at you.

“Can I sleep here too?” you ask. “The other bed is a mess.”

He nods. A second ago, he refused to look at you and now he can’t stop staring. It makes you grin, beaming at him as you slide under the covers.

“You’re staring,” you say.

“I’m not,” he lies, still staring at you. He slumps against the headboard and slides down until he is laying flat. His hair pools around him on the pillow. Ridiculously gorgeous man.

You lean over him, staring back. You rest a hand on his chest and can feel his heart palpitating as quickly as your own.

“You are staring,” you say, then giggle a little because his expression is still wide-eyed. “You look like you’ve never seen a woman in bed before, and I know that’s not true.”

You say it jokingly but he doesn’t laugh. He tilts his head, his expression softening. His tongue touches his upper lip then he smiles at you.

“Not like this,” he says with heart-stopping sincerity. “Not you. Not… my wife.”

Oh god. People always act like there is something supremely unsexy about wife or husband, some stagnant nothingness that kills sex appeal. But the second he says that word, it feels like an electric storm ignites between the two of you. His gaze is dark, his breathing hard, his heart still pounding under your palm. You suck in a deep breath, a shuddering release. You are already aching.

“Hyunjin,” you whisper.

His hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. It passes over your bottom lip and tugs at it. It feels like you have a heartbeat between your legs.

“Fuck,” you say, and swing yourself over him.

He makes a noise the second you are straddling him, both his hands dropping to hold your hips. You lean down, your hands on either side of his head. His eyes are already closed when you start kissing him. You rock against him, feel him getting harder in his boxers as his hands run up and down your thighs.

The kiss breaks for a second, just to breathe, and he sighs.

“Good,” he says. “You brushed your teeth.”

“You are soooo…” You try to sound annoyed but it’s impossible. He laughs, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Ughhh, the worst!”

You roll off him as if you have any intention of denying him, but he doesn’t give you a chance to tease him. He just follows, rolling on top of you so it’s you pinned under him, the weight of him between your open legs. He goes right back to kissing you, taking his time, almost torturously slow while pressed so intimately against you. He licks into your mouth, nips at your bottom lip, steals your breath and comes back for more.

“Hyunjin.” You are out of breath. You grab his face with both hands, gasping against his open mouth.

“Mm?” he replies, pecking your lips.

A part of you thinks you could lie in bed all day doing nothing but kiss Hyunjin. Just a small part. The rest of you is burning up with the need for much, much more.

“Make love to me,” you whisper. His breath stutters. “Please,” you say.

He nods frantically. If you weren’t so hazy with want, it might have made you laugh. As it is, you string your arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss. This one gets heated quickly, wet and sloppy and pressed messily to the corner of your mouths, your hands moving over each other, trying to find the hems of your shirts without breaking apart.

It happens in a frenzy, but you somehow get down to just your underwear. His boxers land on the lamp and the shirts could have flown out the window for all that you care. He is laving kisses all over your body and you are so wound up that you get a little teary, arching under him and tugging on his hair.

“Hyunjin, please,” you say, dragging your nails up his back. “I need you.”

He looks up at you. You smile and bite your lower lip.

“I need my husband,” you say.

You are pretty sure you can visibly see his brain short-circuiting. The next second, he is fully above you, pulling your panties down your hips. It stays hooked around one ankle but the thought of it leaves your mind quickly. He slides his hands under your thighs and spreads you open, leaning down to kiss you as he finally eases inside you.

You both look down at where he inside you. It feels like your clit is jumping for attention, your whole body shaking when he gently rubs you there while sinking fully in.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself once he fully inside you. He closes his eyes and breathes a little harder. “Don’t move,” he says. He leans down so his chest is against yours, your faces close. “If you do, this is gonna be over really quickly.”

“Really?” you say with a giggle, pleased he is as unravelled as you.

He just nods, his eyes still closed. You kiss his cheek and hold the back of his neck, stroking there lightly and giving him a minute.

“Feels good,” you say, because it does, even just like this, pressed so tightly together, him so full and hard inside you.

He just groans, dropping his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder. You rake your fingers through the hair at his nape when he rocks a testing thrust into you. You have only just adjusted when those hips starting rocking with fluid determination, rolling steady and deep. He feels almost impossibly good inside you, driving you into the mattress again and again.

“Oh my god,” you squeak, putting both arms around his neck and clinging tight. “Hyunjin.”

He just makes noise, unintelligible sounds that make him sound crazy despite how deftly he is moving. You feel a bit crazy yourself, blinking at him with your mouth open when he lifts his head. He kisses you, swallowing up your gasping moans, and presses his forehead to yours. For someone who claimed to be close, he lasts a long time at a steady pace, the subtle, corded muscles of his slender frame holding taut as he moves.

“Touch yourself,” he says, and kisses you without waiting for an answer.

You kiss him back, very messily at that, but you do what he said. You lick your fingertips and slide that shaking hand between your bodies, getting yourself off just seconds before his hips get erratic and he has to pull out. He strokes himself to completion just over you, coming on your thighs. He manages to reserve his strength long enough to gather you in his arms and roll over. He guides you to rest on top of him, your face in his sweaty neck and your rising-and-falling chest against his own.

“Why haven’t we been doing that for years?” you mumble.

He laughs, his hand flying to his face to cover his mouth while he giggles. The ring catches your eye and you reach for that hand. He gets quiet, watching you.

You lace your fingers with his, looking at the ring then looking up at him.

“We’re a little crazy if we stay like this,” you say.

He leans in and kisses you for so long that you almost forget what you were saying. You remember when he smiles down at you, when he squeezes your hand, when he leans in and says, “That’s okay. I like a little crazy.”

In agreement, you smile back.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut

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sluttywoozi · 2 months

Text

Disconnected | ljh x reader

It's been three weeks since Jihoon spoke to you for longer than a few minutes, since he came to bed before you were asleep, since he looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

You know he does, of course, but you haven’t felt any evidence of it lately.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.0k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, smut

Warnings: distant!neglectful!jihoon, eating issues, marriage problems, anxiety, partial solving of marriage problems, small mention of pregnancy/having kids (like one part of a sentence)

Smut Warnings: body worship, breast play, biting/marking, oral f. rec., fingering

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, there’s a shower scene where reader takes care of their hair and i believe it should work for different textures but if it doesn’t lmk, chubby but its not a plot point

You look across the dining table at Jihoon, finding him absorbed in his phone as he chews and taking the chance to stare at him for just a bit longer.

He doesn’t spare you a glance, and your eyes go to your untouched food. You haven’t been hungry lately, eating is the last thing on your mind when you’re feeling like this, when he’s spending most hours of the day at the studio, and devoting the remaining time to anyone but you.

It's been three weeks since he spoke to you for longer than a few minutes, since he came to bed before you were asleep, since he looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

You know he does, of course, but you haven’t felt any evidence of it lately.

This is the life you signed up for, you try to remind yourself, but that doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t soothe the caustic burn in your throat that always comes when you’re suppressing tears, or make his side of the bed warm when you slide under the covers alone, and it especially doesn’t remind him to text you more than the stilted responses you’ve counted yourself lucky to receive.

But here he is, tapping away at his phone and shoveling bites of the food you cooked for him into his mouth, too engrossed in whoever he’s texting to even notice your gaze on him. You doubt he’ll realize you’ve gotten up until he’s finished eating, so you scoot away from the table and take your food to the kitchen.

There’s no point in letting it sit out when you’re not going to eat it, and you’re beginning to find you can hardly even bear the smell with your stomach roiling like this. You tilt your plate over the glassware, scraping your dinner into the dish and closing the lid with a click before storing it in the fridge with a sigh.

Now that Jihoon is home and fed, you don’t really know what to do with yourself.

While he’s gone, you take care of things around the house, do some freelance writing, tell yourself that maybe today, he’ll come home and be like he used to be.

Then when he does come home and greets you with a distracted hello and a flash of a kiss on the cheek before heading into his home studio, you find yourself feeling bereft, listless, just like you do now.

You suppose you could take a shower, maybe let a few tears slip under the cover of the water, blame your red, swollen eyes on shampoo, not that he’d bother to ask. Or even notice.

With your mind only half made up, you float on mindless feet to the bedroom and peel the clothes from your body, stopping by the dresser to grab some pajamas. You can hear utensils clacking against porcelain, so you know he’s still eating and likely won’t be coming into the bathroom at least until you’re done.

You don’t know why, but when he’s distant like this, you don’t like to let him see you naked.

Maybe it’s because you already feel stripped to your nuts and bolts, maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel like your Jihoon. Either way, you prefer to be clothed around him, to at least have one extra barrier between him and you lest he see how vulnerable and unguarded you are.

The shower is comforting, warm enough you can almost pretend it’s his arms around you instead, though you stop yourself every time, unwilling to endure the pain once the fantasy fades. You hug yourself, try to hold your broken pieces together as water rains down on you and tears start to bubble over.

Biting back a sob, you take in a shuddering breath and reach for your shampoo, telling yourself that you’ve gotten through this before and you will again. Every time you hear those words in your mind, they feel a little less true, a little less sure.

You step back under the flow of water, rinsing the suds from your hair and squeezing out the excess moisture before coating the strands in conditioner. It needs to sit for a few minutes so you let yourself sink down to the heated tiles of the shower basin, shifting out of the spray and resting your back against the bench.

You tuck your knees up, loosely wrapping your arms around them and staring into the mist as if it contains the solutions to all of your problems. Your mind wanders back to Jihoon, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach as you wonder how much longer you realistically can take this.

It’s not like you haven’t talked to him about it before. The first time it happened was early in your relationship, maybe around the one year mark. You suffered in silence for a month, wondering if something had changed, if he’d met someone else, if he didn’t want you like he used to. You were close to breaking it off when he finally came out of it, apologizing for going radio silent on you and telling you it wouldn’t happen again.

And for two years, it didn’t. For two years, he was perfect, and present, and near ecstatic to show you his love. Then, it happened again, though you only let it last for two and a half weeks before you sat him down and told him you needed him to come back, to figure out how to balance music and you, how to make his life with you work with his life outside of you, even when it gets busy.

He agreed, and instantly made a change for the better, showing you how willing and able he was to manage his relationship with you and his work. That’s partially why this time is so painful - you know he’s capable of putting in the effort, you just don’t know if he can recognize when he’s not.

And it might be immature, it might be selfish, it might be both, but this time, you want him to figure it out on his own. You want him to see that he’s neglecting you, and make the change without you having to ask him to, even if it means you suffer in the meantime.

You grab your comb from the ledge and start detangling your hair, almost thankful for the tears that arise because they mean you’re crying about something other than him, for once. When the comb glides, you hold it under the water to clean it off, setting it back on the ledge and begrudgingly rising to your feet.

Your head tilts back as you rinse, your hands smoothing over your hair until the silky feeling of the conditioner washes out. You give your body a good scrub, rubbing with your exfoliating gloves until you feel brand new before stepping back under the water and letting it all wash down the drain.

You stare at the running water for a while, your thoughts as difficult to pin down as the droplets racing toward the small grate in the floor. The shower won’t run cold, not with the two heaters Jihoon had installed when you were building the place, so there’s nothing but the fear of wasting water keeping you from staying in the safe, spacious cubicle for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, you didn’t grow up in a wasteful household so you can’t linger, shutting the shower off now that you’re done and reaching for your leave-ins. You layer them into your hair and squeeze out the extra water, wrapping your head up in a turbie twist and grabbing a towel from the warmer.

Draping it over your shoulders, you hug yourself again, staring at your shivering form in the slowly defogging mirror and wishing you had Jihoon to hold you instead.

Even with that wish, you still jump and suck in a sharp gasp when he appears in the doorway. Immediately, you tuck the towel around yourself, hiding your body from him and looking anywhere but into his eyes. Your shoulders bunch up in discomfort, the skin fully exposed thanks to your wrapped hair, the lingering drops of water feeling like ice under his gaze.

His eyebrows furrow, his mouth opening as if to speak, before he closes it and averts his eyes, murmuring, “I, uh… came to tell you I would be in my studio for a few hours.”

You don’t know why he’s warning you, he never does when he’s absent like this, but you quietly say, “Okay,” waiting for him to leave so you can get dressed.

Except he doesn’t. He just stands there, halfway in the door, halfway out, his gaze barely to the left of you and suddenly deep, dark, like a bottomless well.

You feel like you can’t breathe trapped in here with him like this, with your ghost of a husband. More than that, you feel exposed, your frayed nerves sparking with the urge to flee, his presence eliciting your fight or flight response. You should leave out the fight, this time, considering the fact that you’d almost rather perish than speak to him further at this moment. How far could you get, you wonder, before he’d notice?

Tomorrow, when he’s wrapped up in his work again, maybe you’ll catch a train, a plane, go somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere that isn’t here.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He asks slowly, his dark eyes sharp on you through the mirror, knowing.

And this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted him to figure it out on his own, to put it together without you spelling it out for him, but now that he has, you don’t know what to do. So, you just nod, grabbing your pajamas off the vanity and locking yourself in the closet so you can finally change, finally cover yourself up, finally have another barrier between you and Jihoon.

When you finish getting dressed and taking care of your hair, you find yourself almost scared to open the doors, not knowing what will be waiting for you when you come out. Still, you take a deep breath and wade through the anxiety, pushing open the doors and stopping short when you realize the bathroom is empty.

Maybe he went into his studio anyway.

Maybe he doesn’t care, maybe he’s tired of having someone who requires his attention, his affection. Maybe he doesn’t love you like he used to, and just doesn’t know how to say it.

You’ve worked yourself into a state of numb teariness by the time you enter the bedroom and find him sitting on the duvet, his head in his hands and his back to you. He jumps to his feet when he hears you, rushing over and taking hold of your hands to guide you to the bed. Confused, you let him push your shoulders down, watching as he settles on his knees in front of you and takes your hands again.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says emphatically, his voice choked up and his face tight with anguish. “I - I never should have let myself get so focused on work. I knew that I missed you, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until you left in the middle of dinner.”

Huh. You didn’t think he’d notice.

“I finally looked up from my stupid fucking phone and you were gone, and I could hear the shower running so I came to check on you, and I heard you crying,” he bites his lips between his teeth and looks away, his eyebrows pushed together and his face slowly reddening. You realize he’s trying not to cry, himself, and start to pull your hands from his so you can cup his face.

He doesn’t let you, his grip too strong for you to break and his eyes angry when he looks back at you, though you know better than to think he’s angry with you. “You shouldn’t need to comfort me right now, I should be comforting you. I’m the one that fucked up, that’s been fucking up.”

You don’t speak, assuming he wants to get all of this out at once. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “When I heard you crying, I started thinking about the past few weeks, and I realized how absent I’ve been. I can’t even remember the last time I really kissed you, and that’s ridiculous. I’m your husband, I should be kissing you and telling you I love you every single fucking day, cherishing you like you deserve, reminding you how grateful I am that you’re in my life.”

“I’m lucky you didn’t fucking leave,” he all but sobs, his face crumpling as he turns and hides his face from you in his shoulder. Again, you try to take your hands back, and this time, he lets you. He lets you cup his cheek and swipe away the tears that fell, he lets you pull him up until he’s sitting next to you, he lets you tug him into your arms and hold him close.

He shudders against you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his big arms around you, lifting and rearranging you so you’re sitting in his lap instead of next to him. You wish you could get closer but you can’t, your chest is already pressed to his and your hips are aligned, your knees folded on either side of his body as he holds you.

“I love you too much to ever leave, Jihoon,” you sigh, leaving out the fact that you did briefly consider it before bundling him up in your arms when that just makes him shudder out a sob and hold you tighter.

“I love you so fucking much, and I swear on everything, I will never let this happen again,” he promises, and this time, you really think it might be true.

You spend the rest of the night together, laying in bed. Sometimes you just stare at each other, sometimes you talk, sometimes you laugh. You even cry once out of sheer relief, a brief catharsis that makes Jihoon tear up and hold you so tight, you can’t breathe.

When it’s time to go to sleep, he strips to his boxers and wraps himself around you, his body more on your side of the bed than his. It’s like he can’t stand to be separated from you now that he’s brought himself back, now that he’s realized how far away from you he was. You think he might even climb into your skin, given the chance.

You rest better than you have in weeks, sleeping soundly through the whole night with his breaths on the back of your neck and his arms wrapped around you, and when you wake, he’s still there.

You’ve changed positions, shifted to lay on his chest with an arm and a leg thrown over his body. He’s awake already, one elbow bent behind his head as he stares at you, and after you check the time, you ask, “Don’t you have to go into the studio today?”

“No, I told them I wasn’t coming in when I woke up,” he smiles softly, tracing his fingers up and down your back, making you shiver against him.

“When did you wake up?” You ask, slightly confused because you normally rise before him, especially on days he has to work.

“Like an hour ago, had a nightmare,” he murmurs, making your eyebrows furrow in concern. His fingers stop drifting over your back and come up to smooth away the wrinkle in between your eyebrows as he says, “It’s my own fault.”

“You can’t be at fault for having a nightmare, Jihoon,” you remind him gently, tilting your face into his hand when he cups your cheek.

“I can be when the nightmare is that you packed a bag and left,” he says distantly, like his mind is far away. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since it woke me up.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise him. “This just can’t happen again, especially now that we’re married.”

“I know,” he agrees in a soft voice, his face pensive. “I think we, or maybe I, should go to couples counseling.”

You hum, biting your lip as you think it over. His thumb tugs at it, pulling down until you’re no longer digging your teeth into the flesh. “I think that’s a good idea. For both of us.”

“I’ll do some research then,” he smiles down at you, brushing his thumb over your slightly indented bottom lip. You smile back, rising up on your elbow to lean in and press your lips to his.

This is the first kiss you’ve shared since the rushed, absentminded peck you got yesterday morning, and Jihoon must realize because his hand forms around your cheek again and his fingers slide into your hair, pulling you closer and holding you there.

You can feel all the love, the devotion, the adoration he’s pouring into it, his sunshine glowing through the fractures in your heart and slowly filling them in, like dandelions growing in the cracks of a sidewalk.

Time slips away and your thoughts do too, your brain empty but for Jihoon as he kisses you breathless. Your elbow starts to shake, the position a bit awkward for you to be putting all of your weight on it, and he, of course, notices. You don’t expect him to roll over and brace himself above you, his body held away from yours by sheer strength, so you gasp when you find yourself under him, surrounded by him.

It’s slightly overwhelming, being so utterly ensconced by him, but you love it, would stay here huddled under him for the rest of time if you could. The world could be falling apart around you and you wouldn’t have a clue, you’re so entranced by him.

“Baby, I don’t deserve it, but… I want to show you how much I love you. Can I?” He asks sincerely, his voice wavering with emotion. You’re about to answer with a vehement yes before he continues, “If you’re not ready, I won’t ask again, I’ll let you come to me.”

You won’t remind him that this is (partially) what you’ve been wanting for the past month, instead telling him, “I’m ready, Jihoon. I want you to show me.”

His smile is nearly blinding, so wide and bright you want to shield your eyes, though you wouldn’t miss a second of this, of him, for anything.

He kisses you again, sipping from your lips like they hold the nectar of the gods, like you’re his salvation, and you kiss him back in much the same way, your eyes fluttering shut and your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

One hand delves into his hair when he trails kisses across your cheek and over your jaw, his mouth suctioning over your pulse point so he can feel your heart beat for him. And maybe it does, maybe that’s why you feel so lifeless without him, so faint, as if a strong gust of wind could blow you away.

But it’s also why you feel so vibrant now, why you’re lit up from the inside, why the effects of his love shine through every pore.

His mouth meanders to the spot under your ear that always makes you shiver, and he spends eons there, licking and sucking and biting until you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist and his name on your lips.

By the time he moves on to your breasts, you’re dazed, barely able to help him take off your pajama shirt. He has to straddle you to free up his hands and tug it off, and you come back online just in time to watch his eyes darken as they drag over your exposed skin. You’re not shy anymore, content to lay there and let him look his fill, your hands resting above your head, lifting your breasts.

His hands cover them before his lips do, his palms warm and soft where they cup the weighty flesh, squeezing gently as his thumbs brush over your pebbled nipples. He leans down to suck one into his mouth, taking deep pulls that make your back arch into him as the sensation sparks through you. He can’t seem to settle on one side, always switching so neither are neglected, your breasts marked up and spit slick by the time his kisses start to dot your stomach.

He’s always been vocal about how much he loves your belly, loves the soft pudge and the way it contracts when you laugh, loves filling it with food and covering it with kisses, would someday love to watch it grow with life. It’s no surprise when he settles between your legs and spends almost as much time on your stomach as he did on your breasts, his lips tracing every stretch mark and his teeth sinking into every curve.

You’re trembling when he finally moves on to your hips, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pajamas and starting to pull. You lift your ass to help, remembering at the last second that you put panties on too last night, unlike usual. Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind, kissing you over the fabric before pushing your legs apart and nipping a line up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

He soothes the sting with his lips and tongue, working his way up to the apex of your thighs and licking you over the fabric when he gets to your covered cunt. You’ve grown wet enough for a small patch to form on the seat of your panties, and Jihoon uses the damp material to his advantage, firming his tongue and digging it into where he knows your entrance is.

The feeling is soft, muted, but still good, and you can’t help but bring a hand down to tangle your fingers in his long, loose hair. He turns his head and presses one last kiss to your thigh before reaching up and starting to pull your panties down, his eyes heated and dark and laser focused on your pussy as it’s revealed to him.

The underwear has barely cleared your feet when he pushes your legs apart again and leans down to suck in a deep breath through his nose, smelling your arousal and groaning before dragging his tongue through your folds for a taste. The noise that escapes him now is more like a whine, a punched out sound that comes from deep within his lungs, his fingers spasming on your thighs as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

He’s barely started but you’re already moaning, already wanting for more, already on the verge of begging for his mouth around your clit or his fingers inside. He gives you neither, relearning the shape of you with lips and teeth and tongue, one of his hands shifting to your pussy so he can spread you apart and taste every square millimeter.

It feels like a lifetime before he finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and your response is instantaneous. Your back arches, your fingers clench in his hair, and your thighs snap closed around his head, making him push them apart with both hands, your pleasure soaked muscles no match for his.

He brings you up just like this, with his palms pressing your thighs apart and his mouth on your clit, sucking and tapping and licking until you feel waves of bliss wash over you in a gentle release that leaves you floating.

That’s just the beginning, you learn, as he lets one thigh fall so he can slide a finger into your still fluttering walls, his lips vibrating around your throbbing clit in a groan that you echo softly. He moves slowly, letting his finger glide in and out even though you both know you’re more than ready for another.

“Jihoon, please,” you begin, lightly tugging on his hair, about to ask him for more.

“You don’t need to beg, baby,” he murmurs into you, sinking a second finger inside on the next stroke and spreading them to open you up. It’ll take more than two fingers to prepare you for his cock after three weeks of nothing, so you lay back and relax, content in the knowledge that soon enough, you’ll have everything you want.

His fingers crook inside of you, stroking along your front wall, feeling for that patch of nerves inside that makes you gush for him. He finds it easily, his calloused, practiced fingertips rubbing and grinding into it, and you can feel the arousal seeping out of you, know it’s probably gathering in his palm now.

He doesn’t care, doesn’t ever care how messy you get him, has even said he loves being coated in you by the end, loves tasting and feeling the physical evidence of how much you want him. It’s obvious in the way he moans when his mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue dipping between his fingers to get a taste at the source before laving up to your clit and wrapping his lips around it.

He sucks hard, and you can tell that he’s starting to lose patience, to lose control, his hunger for you beginning to overcome his desire to be slow and gentle and sweet. That’s more than alright with you, Jihoon has spent enough time showing you how much he loves you, now you’re ready for him to show you how much he wants you too.

When he withdraws his hand and returns with a third finger, you know it won’t be long before he’s filling you with his cock, and you can feel yourself get wetter at the thought. You almost want him to just give it to you now, to work himself inside even if you have to stretch around him, even if it hurts a little.

But you know he’s on a mission so you let him carry it out, sighing at the sensation of false fullness as that burning coil starts to form in your stomach. It winds tighter and tighter as he slides his fingers in and out, every dig of his fingertips into your sweet spot making you gasp and pull his hair. Soon enough, you’re holding him in place and he’s letting you, grunting and groaning as you begin to roll your hips into his movements, his fingers precise and his mouth devastating.

Finally, the coil catches flame and snaps, making your back arch and stealing every last thought in your mind as you cum so hard, you almost force his fingers out. He’s still stronger than you though, so he fights through your tightness to keep fucking you with them, bringing you through your orgasm and slowing only when you release his hair and pet his head with clumsy hands.

When Jihoon comes to hover above you, you’re close to crying, so wrought with feelings and passion and love, you almost can’t handle it. But his face is glistening with you, practically dripping, which makes you choke out a laugh and sweep your finger along his jaw.

You had planned to wipe it off on the duvet but he takes your hand and sucks your finger into his mouth, his eyes locked with yours, the darkness in them vast enough that you fear you might get lost.

He releases your finger and presses his slick lips to yours, his tongue delving into your mouth so you can taste yourself. He cups your cheek with his non-sticky hand and tilts your head, changing the angle of the kiss and making it even deeper, eliciting a quiet moan from you as your legs hitch up on his waist and your arms wrap around his neck.

You flex your legs, trying to bring his hips down to yours, but he stays braced over you, his body still inches away when you want him to be so close, you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

“Jihoon, I want you,” you break away to breathe, gazing into his eyes and watching as he wars with himself.

“I don’t feel like I deserve you right now,” he admits solemnly, his eyelids fluttering when you shift one hand down to touch his rock hard cock.

“What if I think you do?”

“I’m glad you feel that way, but I just wanted this to be about you. I think we should wait,” he gets quieter at the end, as if he’s afraid of your response, and you can’t push him, not when it seems like he thinks you’ll be upset with him for saying no.

“Okay,” you sigh, only the slightest bit of dejection seeping into your voice, though you try not to let it come through.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers before kissing you again. “Why don’t you get the bath started while I deal with this? I’ll come join you after.”

“That’s a good plan,” you smile softly up at him, craning your neck for one last peck before he climbs off of you and lets you go.

You slide to the edge of the bed and stand, about to hobble on shaky knees over to the bathroom when he catches your hand and pulls you between his legs.

“I love you, so fucking much,” he says, his voice wavering and his eyes watery when they meet yours.

You let the words wash over you like an ocean wave, the sentiment cleansing and healing and refreshing to your still-bruised spirit.

“I love you, Jihoon,” you squeeze his hand and lean in when he pulls you, his lips meeting yours before they press to both of your cheeks and your forehead in sweet kisses.

With your heart full of love and light, you make your way into the bathroom and start the tub, focusing on the sound of rushing water and valiantly trying to ignore the muffled noises coming from the bedroom.

You’ve waited for Jihoon before, you can wait for him again.

AN: don't look at me im self soothing

My Masterlist

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charliemwrites · 1 month

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Soooo a while ago I introduced a “rabid reader.” A reader character with a (non-sexual) body count and a nasty temper.

Anyway, I started thinking about her - and the discord does what it does - and realized that Pathetic Stalker Konig would be a great pairing for her.

So, CW for light stalking, violence, and slightly mean reader

You have a stalker.

He’s… not a very good one.

For one, you know he’s there. Have known since pretty much the beginning. He’s a big fucking Austrian that covers himself head to toe. Not even in subtle colors, but in primarily black. Maybe at night he’d stand a chance, but he follows you in broad daylight too. So, there’s that.

Then there’s the fact that you’re not really bothered by him. What’s there to be bothered by? He keeps his distance, doesn’t interfere with your life. Even when he finally does work up the courage to enter your home, he puts things back where he found them. So, again, not a big deal.

You keep waiting for the escalation. For gifts or letters or some obvious sign of his presence that even the most oblivious person couldn’t ignore. But none comes. Partially, you figure, because you’ve shown no interest in anyone. You have friends, yes, but those are so obviously platonic that even your stalker doesn’t seem jealous. And the few times someone else has made a pass at you, a quick and merciless shutdown follows. Your lack of romantic intentions for anyone seems to be coming him semi-level.

You wonder if this is how religious people feel, that vague sense of being watched. Though you don’t think your stalker is judging you. Be a hell of a thing if he did.

Then one day, things change.

You have this new coworker, Brandon.

Your other coworkers already seem to like him. They say he’s funny and charming and handsome, that he’s such a great fit for the team. You have no particular opinion because most people just aren’t interesting to you, and Brandon is Most People incarnate.

But Brandon seems to have an interest in you. Which, really, is such a poor choice.

He keeps ending up in the break room at the same time as you. Or passing by your desk for a quick question, only to try to lengthen the conversation with the casual chat. Makes a point of saying hello to you in the mornings and walking down with you in the afternoon.

You’re not annoyed yet, not really. It’s a change in your routine, but you’ve been told those are good, so fine. He’s about as bearable as anyone else (besides the rare few you call friend) so you don’t think anything of it. Even when your coworker giggles that he was asking after your romantic life, you tolerate him.

A few months later is the annual office party, a celebration of… something. It seems different every time. Record profits, company anniversary, CEO’s birthday… it doesn’t matter, really. Free food, socialization. It’s something to do.

You go, of course. As ambivalent as you are towards the majority of your coworkers, they do seem to quite like you, and insist that you come.

So you go. You plaster on that mild, practiced smile while they chat and joke, contributing readily when prompted. At the end of the meal, you’re wheedled into going out for more casual celebration. Again, you agree.

Brandon comes along.

And somewhere, throughout the night, Brandon thinks it’s okay to start touching you. An accidental brush here and there is fine, unavoidable really. You’re not opposed to touch as a rule.

But then the occasional bumps and grazes become more frequent, consistent. Purposeful. A hand on your arm, then your shoulder, then your back. When you step away, he somehow ends up right back by your side. So you resort to telling him not to touch you so casually. He scoffs, already past a healthy buzz, and dismisses you as being “uptight” because you’re still treating it as a “work thing.” That you just need some more drinks in you and everything will be fine.

You can feel it bubbling up in you, that inky rage. Maybe something flickers across your face because your coworkers are quick to divert his attention. Smart.

But twenty minutes later you’ve had your fill of socializing. The bar is too loud, people are getting too drunk, and you don’t like the looks you’re getting from more than just Brandon.

You say your goodbyes while he’s in the restroom and leave.

You’ve only just made it to your car when you hear quick footsteps, turn just in time for Brandon to catch up. It’s all just noise to you now, his tense laughter that you left at the worst time, that you’re mean for not waiting. That he wants to walk you to your car like always.

He tries to curl an arm around your waist. It takes restraint you don’t usually employ not to break it. To just step away and repeat (fuck you hate repeating yourself) that you don’t want to be touched.

And then he makes the fatal mistake of just not fucking listening. Of insisting. Of doing what he wants anyway.

So you break his hand. And while he’s still screaming in pain, you notice the shadowy flicker of your stalker ducking out of view.

It’ll stay your secret, you figure, and go home. Expect that to be the end of it.

Until you hear glass break when you’re just about to go to bed. You step out of your room, shoes on and knife in hand, to a fuck-off sized Austrian strangling Brandon. Oh, and stabbing him with a large piece of the lamp someone seems to have broken.

There’s water all over the floor because it started raining an hour ago. It’s mixing with the blood, diluting it pink on your floor. You retrieve a towel from the kitchen to mop it up before it reaches the rug.

All at once, things go quiet. Your stalker is kneeling over a still, dead-eyed Brandon, breathing hard. But his eyes keep flicking to you and then away, shoulders slumped and head ducked.

“You’ve made a mess. Clean up.”

Your stalker jumps into action. Seems to already know where all the housekeeping supplies are. In the meantime, you go digging through your closet for clothes. Can’t find any, so you settle for getting the washer and dryer ready. Order yourself a new lamp online.

By the time you’re done, the body is gone, the floors are clean and dry, and your stalker is fidgeting in the living room.

“Strip.”

He startles. Stares. You arch your eyebrows. Wait him out. But then he does as he’s told. Peeling off cold, wet layers with mechanical precision, until he’s got a damp pile at his bare feet. You give his mask an unimpressed look. That comes off too with an audible gulp.

You don’t really get attractiveness, as a physical quality. You understand proportions and features, and recognize that this man has some pleasing, if atypical, ones. Even with the scar.

“Good.” He shivers. “Now shower.”

He nods, ducks past you to the bathroom - again without having to be told where to find it. You gather up the clothes and toss them in the machine with a little extra detergent.

Walk into the bathroom and ignore the way he tries to cover himself, flushing tomato red from head to toe.

“Your name.”

“Konig.”

You narrow your eyes, but don’t press.

“Are you military?”

He’s built like it. Thick with useful strength, not aesthetic muscle. And he’s scarred all over. Some new, some old, all earned through violence and suffering.

“Military contractor,” he says. Then, quieter, “please don’t stare.”

Your eyes snap up to his. He can’t even hold it for longer than a second before dropping his gaze. You cross your arms.

“You’ve been watching me for 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days. Put your fucking hands down.”

He twitches, but drops his hands to his sides. His cock - and it is, you acknowledge, very impressive - is filling out slowly but steadily. You consider it for a moment while he fidgets beneath the steaming spray.

“If you fuck me, will you be satisfied?” you ask.

Like touching, you’re not against fucking by default. It’s just one of those things you don’t think about often because you’re not especially interesting in most cases.

This - Konig - is not most cases.

But konig’s eyes dart up guiltily before he shakes his head. Surprised, you tilt your head.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods so hard the back of his skull bumps into the shower head.

You hum. Stand there and watch him while he awkwardly shuffles until the washer buzzes.

“Finish showering, get your clothes from the dryer, then sleep on the couch,” you say. He swallows again and nods. “You can get blankets if you’re cold. Be here in the morning.”

With that, you turn to switch his clothes over. Then head off to bed, wondering if you’ll see him come sunrise.

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #rabid reader #pathetic stalker konig

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leqonsluv3r · 2 months

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bf!leon kennedy

—re2!leon kennedy x soft!croquet reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

bf!leon kennedy who is shy still when you guys kiss in public but he loves to hold your hand. he’ll do anything with you or for you, even if PDA makes him nervous.

bf!leon kennedy who always takes you out, knowing you’ll wear something pretty and pink. so you but also so beautiful everytime he takes you out. he secretly asks you to go out because he knows you’ll get all dolled up, enjoying looking at you because your his.

bf!leon kennedy who always drives even though you have your license. he loves how your the passenger princess, letting him gladly chauffeur you with his hand on your leg and one on the wheel.

bf!leon kennedy who always buys you whatever you want, no matter how stupid or how frilly it is. your style is beyond his comprehension but he adores it. he’ll gladly spoil you, have it be perfume, makeup, even those stupid squishys that cover your bed.

bf!leon kennedy who kisses you like your something delicate, eating you like the pastry’s you love so much. nothing could be sweeter then your lips and he’s definitely convinced of that.

bf!leon kennedy who is always touching you in some shape or form. his hand on your lower back, hand in yours or his hands wrapped around your waist. he’s very touchy, not that you mind. you love knowing that he’s very affectionate.

bf!leon kennedy who will sit with you on the couch in your frilly pink pjs and watch tv with you. the decor of your apartment matches you in every way, but he doesn’t mind sitting on the puffy pink couch and holding you in his arms while you talk enthusiastically about the tv show playing. he just loves being around you.

bf!leon kennedy, thinking your cute when you get all huffy and mad over something that frustrates you. he practically watches you get into tears over something so simple, deciding to put you out of your misery and help you with whatever your trying to do.

bf!leon kennedy, getting used to the ribbons in your hair almost everyday. enjoying being the one at the end of the day to take them out of your hair. you have one in every color or shade to match your different outfits and he adores watching you match.

bf!leon kennedy who kisses and caresses his thumbs over your cheeks when your upset, hating to see his gf so upset over anything at all.

bf!leon kennedy, gives you his jacket when your cold out in public, he doesn’t want you getting sick or catching a cold. even if it means he’ll freeze, he’ll sacrifice his warmth for your comfort any day.

bf!leon kennedy who buys you flowers for no special occasion at all. just brings them over to you and gladly watches you hug him and put them in a vase in your apartment. knowing when they dry out, you’ll keep them for whatever use you deem necessary. you would never get rid of the flowers even if they’re dead.

bf!leon kennedy who puts on your shoes for you, giving you the princess treatment your entire relationship. putting on your shoes and tying them, getting you water, brushing your hair, even rubbing your back if it hurts. you deserve it.

bf!leon kennedy who doesn’t pressure you for sex, decides to let you be the one to tell him when your ready. and eventually one day you let him, he’s so gentle at first but when you get comfortable, he gives you everything you ask for.

bf!leon kennedy, wiping away his release from your legs afterwards and giving you cuddles if you ask for them. knowing how vulnerable sex is for you. he kisses your head and wraps his bare body beneath your pink plushy duvet and holds you gently until you drift off to sleep.

bf!leon kennedy, helping you when your sore the day after. he knows it’s partially his doing and he doesn’t mind babying you. he gets you a heating pad, ice, water, a warm blanket or anything else you need so you don’t have to move or walk.

bf!leon kennedy who rubs your back and presses kisses to your skin and tells you he loves you every opportunity he gets. kisses you and caresses you like your the most precious thing ever. he loves you and you love him, to him that’s the best thing he could ever ask for.

an: bf!leon kennedy has been rotting my brain and i decided to write some headcanons bc why not. i think im gonna do them with all the different versions. you guys can request headcanons and blurbs, oneshots or whatever in my asks. i love you all, pls reblog and follow <33 kisses xx.

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #re2 leon #re4 remake #leon kennedy au #re2 remake #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fic #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy re2 #bf!leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy headcanons

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repulsiveliquidation · 4 months

Note

hey :) first of all love love love your writing, literally never fails to make me drip lol

also don’t know if youre up for ideas atm but if you are i have an idea for a short (or long) leah blurb based on THAT suit. i can’t get this scenario out of my head: her coming home after the event and riding r’s strap with her open shirt and the tie still around her neck. and just her being needy and desperate to cum.

good excuse.

Leah Williamson x Reader [SMUT! blurb.] not formatted, I did this on my phone. God my head is burning from the bleach. Hope you like this one, that suit was 😩😮‍💨

“You dressed love?”

“Yes, can you help me with my tie?”

“Mm, c’mere.”

You stand in front of here, undoing her collar and tying her tie for her. She smiles, you lean in and give her a kiss.

“There. All done. You look smashing babe.”

“I’ve had it in my wardrobe for a while but I needed a good excuse to wear it, today seemed fitting.”

“You look hot. Like you mean business.”

“You go be a pretty girl on the red carpet and I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of after babydoll.”

Leah comes home way past midnight, a little tipsy from the celebratory drinks she’s had with the girls for Mary’s big win. Alex drops her off, grinning when Leah throws herself at you and immediately starts kissing your neck.

“You’ve got an interesting night ahead of ya. She couldn’t stop talking about coming home to you and having some fun.”

“She did, did she? Naughty Leah, discussing our bedroom habits in public.”

Alex leaves with a loud chuckle, yelling about how she didn’t want to know any more than Leah had already blabbed. Leah had started to strip already, her shirt half open and tie partially undone.

She stands in the door frame, blonde hair framing her face. Her curves are illuminated by the dim lighting throughout the house, casting a soft glow around her magnificent body.

“Hi baby, missed me?” She asks, sauntering over to you while sensually swaying her hips.

“Mhm, did you have a good time angel?”

“The best. But I missed you.” She whines, arms wrapping around your neck with a pout on her lips. “Mary won, did you see?”

“Yes darling, watched the whole thing lovey.” You tell her, gently picking her up. She wraps her legs around your waist, kissing your neck gently.

“Looked so pretty on the red carpet, my girl. Made me jealous I couldn’t go with you.”

“Next time, I’m just gonna bring you with me. Don’t care who sees. Wanna look pretty on your arm.” She slurs as you sit on the edge of the bed. She crawls off your lap, kneeling in front of you. She nudges her head into your lap, resting her head against your thigh. You stroke her hair, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“What did you tell Alex and the girls we were going to do, sweetheart?”

“Told them I wanted to ride your cock. Maybe have you pound into me from behind while holding the tie because I’m a slut.”

Alcohol made Leah Williamson bolder than she already was. A direct Leah always got what she wanted.

“How about we make that little dream of yours come true hm?”

You stand, pulling out your strap. She liked this one, it filled her in all the right places. You strip and put it on, she watches with glossed over eyes. You sit back down on the bed, she presses her face back into your crotch and begins to kiss the toy. Her lips wrap around the tip, sucking softly.

You run your fingers through her hair as she sucks, her eyes locked onto yours. Your hand rests behind her head, pulling her onto the cock more. She gags, pulling away and grinning.

“I love that sound baby,” you tell her, leaning down to her ear, “do it again.”

She nods hard, sucking deeper on your cock. She gags three more times, slurping noisily on the spit-covered toy. You pull her up, kissing her passionately. She immediately clambers into your lap, cock nudged against her pussy.

Three fingers slip into her, meeting little to no resistance as she’s aroused beyond belief. You grin, fingertips pressed to her sweet spot.

“Oh darling, you’re soaked.”

“Please baby, really need your cock…”

“It’s all yours, baby girl. Go on and ride it, I know you wanted to.”

She suddenly climbs off your lap, turns around and grabs your cock. She whines as she slides down onto it, gripping your thighs tight as she begins to ride.

“Oh fuck…!”

Leah bounces harder, throwing her head back as your cock brushes up against all those lovely little spots inside her. She cries out for you, grasping your knees tighter. You have a tight grip on her waist, helping her ride as your eyes never leave the place you’re both connected to.

A hard spank to her ass makes her legs give out, slumping back onto you. She’s panting and whining, before your hands pull her legs open and pick her up while standing.

You open her legs and hold her up, thrusting up and bringing her down on your cock. She screams, one hand holding onto you as the other fondles her dripping clit.

“Fuck, fuck, please!”

You move her onto the bed, arching her back deep as you immediately begin to pound into her. You grab the spot-soaked tie around her neck and pull on it tight, fucking into her pussy roughly.

With a leg propped up on the bed, you angle into her sweet spot, she cries out and desperately tries to find something to hold onto. You pull her back against your chest, hips grinding into you sweet spot.

“This what you were telling our friends we were going to do baby?”

“Y-Yes!” She croaked out.

“You’re gonna come for me, hm? Gonna come all over my cock, Leah?”

“Fucking hell, yes!”

You pick up the pace, gripping the tie and her arms tight behind her, pushing her back down onto the bed on her front. You bruisingly grip her hips instead, hips jack-hammering into her sloppy pussy.

“Y/N!” she screams, coming hard. She shudders and smiles in pleasure, your hips gently turning into a deep grind to drag out her high.

She slumps into the bed satisfied as you pull out and begin to clean her up.

All tucked into your side in bed, she slips her leg between yours and holds on tight. She’s got fluids in her and two Advils on the bedside table for when she wakes up with a little hangover.

“I love you,” she mumbles quietly into your neck, eyes heavy with sleep.

“I love you too, my girl,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on her temple, “sweet dreams, my silly girl.”

#woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #leah williamson smut #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso blurbs

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pedgito · 5 months

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𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 & 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | a joel miller x reader oneshot

summary: this is based around work song by hozier, felt a deep need to write some joel miller comfort stuff. listen to the song if you fancy, it really helps, i swear. this is just a lot of angst, fluff, and longing wrapped into a 5k fic i wrote out a couple weeks ago out of missing writing and joel miller.

word count & warnings: 5k | 18+, fem!reader, mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it's just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

It’s like an atom bomb uprooting your world with the heavy rasps of a hand against solid wood, sending a sharp buzz of electricity down your spine as you shoot up from your position on the couch, nearly tripping over Ellie on the way. The remnants of a night spent like a teen, enjoying a sleepover with the young girl who had a lot to talk about. You knew enough about Savage Starlight that you were practically an aficionado now, but that didn’t matter.

Ellie only stirs slightly, turning on her side on the cushion of her make-shift pallet and you open the front door slowly despite your rapidly beating heart.

Joel never knocked, never really announced himself. He would come in quiet, quick, and busy himself upstairs. You knew that because he usually found you in his bed, waiting for him.

Tonight was a little different.

No grave can hold my body down,

I'll crawl home to her

You world spins as you see what’s on the other side, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you see him.

Joel. But he wasn’t alone.

“Maria—“ It’s laced with too many emotions, too many meanings. You shift your gaze between the two.

“Everyone—“ Maria has to force herself to take a deep breath, a careful hand on Joel’s arm as she forces him to take a step forward, “everyone is fine.”

“Maria, he’s covered in blood.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

It was crusted and oxidized down, sticking to his skin and covering him like something out of a horror movie. He wasn’t shaking, that was the first thing you noticed. Joel was unnaturally still. Frozen.

“Do you have him?” Maria asks, only expecting one answer. “I’ve gotta tend to Tommy and he’s not telling me a damn thing.”

“Is he hurt?” Your brow furrowed in concern, but Maria doesn’t elaborate at all. You reach for Joel silently, his skin icey to the touch, the rigid, cold weather partially to blame.

“He’ll be alright.” Maria assures you with a nod and she’s gone without another word, leaving you to stare at the shell of a man before you, his eyes boring into the ground, staring at the scuffed up material of his boots, not a word to be spoken. Not even so much as a breath.

“Is he in shock?” Ellie’s less than chipper voice speaks from behind you, forcing your heart to kickstart again.

“Um, I don’t—know…” You pull him inside gently, which he doesn’t fight, but he feels lifeless, “has he—have you seen him like this before?”

“Never.” Her eyes well with silent tears and you quickly shoo her away. Ellie almost seems thankful. Joel can’t admit it to himself but Ellie knows.

You care.

“Go upstairs and get some sleep, Ellie.” You assure her, “I can handle it.”

The walk to Joel’s bedroom feels miles away. Joel shows no signs of life still, as you drag him inside of his room and shut the door with a soft click.

“You need to shower.”

Joel knows this, he can smell it on him.

The smell of death.

You smell it too, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

“Joel,” You speak softly, invading his line of sight, a gentle touch against rough skin, his scruff a few days grown and there’s a small twitch as your warm hand makes contact, “are you here?”

His nod is a sigh of relief, a weight off your chest.

“Okay—okay, that’s good,” You keep your voice low, like a secret between the both of you, “do you need my help?”

Joel shakes his head weakly, pulling at the buttons of his thick coat, realizing slowly that it was just as bloodied as the rest of him. He wants it off. All of it. Now.

“Are you going to fight me if I try to help?” It’s lighthearted, but you can see how deeply it digs at Joel, like a fresh wound. “Sorry—I just, I want to help. Okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push your hands away when they reach forward and take the coat from his hands. You toss it in a nearby corner, out of sight and out of mind.

You could handle it later, get rid of the mess so Joel wouldn’t have to bother with it.

He toes off his boots after tugging at the laces, delicate fingertips tracing down his chest as you unbutton his flannel, forcing it down his shoulders. It takes a moment, but eventually he’s down to his boxers and tattered white undershirt, barefoot on the hardwood floor.

And he stops, leaning into you, pressing his forehead against your own in a silent bid of thankfulness, a heavy sigh escaping his chest.

Joel showers alone, eerily quiet. You get rid of the clothes, bringing them out to the garage to deal with in the morning.

Joel is already in the bed by the time you make it back to his bedroom, but if he was actually asleep was yet to be discovered, the nightmare replaying behind his eyelids unbeknownst to you.

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Joel wasn’t supposed to come back until later in the evening that day, well after work was wrapped up for the day and everyone was already tucked into bed. You found yourself in Joel’s bed most nights now, off and on for the first few months but now, almost a year into…whatever this was, it was a weekly thing, as often as Joel wasn’t out on patrol.

There was never an agreement about what this was either, not that there needed to be. But, the unspoken rule was to keep your problems away–the anger, the fear, the suppressed feelings you both have tried to keep at bay for weeks now. Joel only mildly complains about things around Jackson, but never about his life before, how he feels now, or how his pseudo-daughter seeks out comfort in your presence when Joel isn’t around.

Joel hasn’t stirred for hours, or so it feels. The night sky fades away into early morning, the tiniest amount of dawn peeking through his window and bathing him in a shadow of blue. The crinkle of sheets pulls your attention toward his face, your body heats like a furnace as it slid near, hoping that even in his slumber he might draw closer. There’s a brief moment where you think he might wake, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer. Nuzzles.

You’ll take it.

He moves silently, letting you hold him. An arm slipped under his head, a leg slipped between his own thighs and his hands found their way around your middle and you sigh, a deep breath through your nose that does nothing to calm your worrying, aching heart.

If he wanted to talk about it, he would. That’s all you can hope for.

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

Joel is edging on delirious. The adrenaline was beginning to wane and he kept seeing things in faint recollection. The faces of the couple that had snuck into the cabin he and Tommy were patrolling last night, the fear on his brother’s face–something he hasn’t seen from Tommy since they were teenagers. They’re battle-hardened warriors, attack first and ask questions later. His brother was helpless then and if it weren’t for Joel’s terrible bout of insomnia—he couldn’t think about it.

He feels everything finally caught up to him, the physical exertion, the mental toll, he’s never slept so easily in his life and he feels terrible about it. He feels terrible about bringing this on you, forcing you to help piece him back together and keep him from falling apart.

Joel is a man, solid and steel-like in his ways but he’s not invulnerable to emotion. He feels it creeping in as he blinks his tired eyes open, the flutter in his chest growing strong when he feels you wrapped around him and his own limbs just the same.

He could’ve swore you left. The look on your face, of pure terror and disgust as he poured his heart out to you, but Joel quickly realizes that was only a dream, something his mind cooked up in the haze of hysteria.

“Is Tommy hurt?” You ask with a timidness he’s not used to, your fingers massaging at the base of his neck, twirling a curl of his hair around your finger idly, “Maria...didn’t say, she looked exhausted.”

We don’t talk about these things.

We don’t talk.

We don’t.

“I’m not asking you to tell me what happened,” You assure him like he’d spoked aloud, “Just…even a nod, Joel. Anything.”

Joel waits too long, to the point where you think he’s fallen back asleep. But eventually, he shakes his head. You relax briefly. No, he wasn’t hurt.

But, that doesn’t explain the blood.

As much as you wanted to know, it wasn’t your place to ask.

She never asked me once

about the wrong I did

Joel doesn’t understand why he feels drawn to you, so eager to have you here, home. You had your own place, your own things, but when you were here it almost felt normal. Real. He’s dragged this out for months, avoiding the looks you give him when things get a little too intense and he pulls away.

Ellie calls him an idiot every month that passes, knowing how good it is to have you around.

“Jesus, Joel—you can’t really be that oblivious.”

Joel forces Ellie to drop it.

But, not before she mumbles the word under her breath.

There’s a soft sob that racks your body as Joel stirs, crying silently above him with worry. You weren’t as great at burying those emotions as him, unfortunately.

Because, for tonight, well—it was almost too much to process.

“I took care of it,” Joel speaks through his gruff, sleep-filled voice, “Tommy’s fine.”

It? Took care of it? Come on, Joel.

“It was a couple. Hunters. They were from the west.”

You stay silently, scared that speaking might startle him too. You didn’t want to steal the chance of knowing, understanding.

“I handled it.” The emphasis around the word is enough to make you understand.

He killed them. There was no way around that.

“I’ve never…” The quiver in Joel’s voice is apparent, no matter how hard he tries to mask it, “I’ve felt a lot of things. Anger, betrayal, but that fear—”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pulling Joel closer into the space you shared.

“They had their hands around him,” Joel explains slowly, like he’s trying and failing to relive that sight in his mind, “my damn hearing, old fucking age—another minute and things would’ve been a hell of a lot different.”

“But, you took care of it.” You affirmed him and his hands tightened against your skin. “Seem pretty damn capable to me.”

“Fuckin’ cowards.” Joel spits out, “We were sleepin’ and they tried to get the jump on us.”

“It’s alright, though—Tommy’s okay, you’re…okay,” You hesitate, a quiver of a breath from Joel ghosts over your chest, his tired eyes peering into yours, “You’re okay, right?”

“Always am,” Joel assures you with a low, soft response, “had so much on mind, though, ya’ know?”

“Well, yeah—”

Joel shakes his head, cuts you off for a brief moment. You don’t really mind, talking felt too draining right now.

“Ellie’s still learnin’, she can’t even go out on patrol by herself. Tommy and Maria have the baby now.” Joel’s fingers squeeze again, a nervous tic he’s picked up when he’s got himself wrapped around you, the urge to say things he wishes he could but can’t. You’re begging for it now, wondering if this was the moment. “I couldn’t live with myself if things went the other way.”

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

Joel was a killer. Is. But, with good intentions. Not that it was needed anymore.

Survival, family, protection. He’s killed for the wrong reasons and the good ones, but it’s never been something you’ve judged him on. You never even questioned it. You accepted it, moved on, and treated him like everyone else. But, of course, there was a tinge of sweetness that creeped in, got him all caught and wound up in your web.

“Did she give you any trouble last night?” It’s a quick turn from the heavy conversation you were having, but it isn’t lost on you. He’s silently asking things to shift to something else.

“No more than the usual,” You shrug, talking softly in the early morning ambience, wind howling outside his bedroom window, a storm brewing on the horizon, “I don’t think it’s me that you should be worried about her giving trouble anyways.”

He would be stuck here in Jackson for a few days. You’ve never been more thankful for shitty weather in a goddamn apocalypse.

“That kid loves you.” Joel comments fondly, and I do too.

“Only because I help her and Dina sneak out during town movie nights,” You admit, glancing away sheepishly, “she really worries about you.”

Joel nods knowingly, his usual scowl returning to his face. You reach forward, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone—in this light he looks fine, untouched and perfect, but he winced at the contact. He’s a tough man, but he’s not invincible.

The touch of his fingers as they wrap around your palm are instinctive, he’s careful that he doesn’t startle you by the quick action, but it’s almost like he’s being shocked and brought back to hours before, the one hit they managed to land on him.

You’ve seen a few of Joel’s violent outbursts, yelling matches upon yelling matches with Tommy but it’s never been directed at you. You retract slightly, fingers curling over the top of his own.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, “I didn’t realize—“

“I would never hurt you.” Joel says adamantly, but you can’t help but feel puzzled. “I’m not a monster.”

That idea never crossed your mind.

“Defending yourself doesn’t make you a monster, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t know why he feels the need for validation.

“Maria—she thought I,” Joel laughs sadly, a huff of air that borders on defeat, “Tommy was hitchin’ the horses up and she saw me first, without him and she thought I left him behind. That I sacrificed my own damn brother to save my ass.”

Maria had never been fond of Joel, that much was always apparent, even from the moment you met. She tolerated him because he was Tommy’s brother but that was all. There was no way around it.

“I’ve done plenty of shit to cement my place in hell somewhere, and so has Maria,” You tell him, “Doesn’t matter what she thinks, Tommy knows you would never do that.”

Joel squeezes your waist tighter, the soft skin molding under his calloused fingertips, “You’re too damn good to me.”

The kissing starts slowly, a soft caress as Joel moves in closer, and doesn’t even try—he waits for you, teasing you with a touch until you can’t fight anymore and you press your lips against his gently. It’s the first time in the last several hours that Joel doesn’t feel like he’s drowning, barely skimming the surface to keep himself afloat.

He feels horrible, using you like this—coping with things by stowing them away and surrounding himself with you in a hope that you wouldn’t ask anymore questions, that he would have to explain his actions or justify them. But, you taste too damn sweet under his tongue and he prods until you let him in, a small sigh leaving your mouth as your lips part.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He swears like a symphony, sounding more devious than it should as it leaves his lips, “Can’t keep at this, not with Ellie upstairs.”

“Joel, she’s not here.” It’s not so obvious to Joel, who’s just about as oblivious to every teen antic thrown his way. “She’s out with Dina, probably. That’s usually where she goes when she’s upset.”

Joel’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I heard her moving around when you were asleep,” You explain quietly, jostling your head slightly on the pillow until Joel’s situated over you slightly, his head resting in the palm of his hand that held him upright, “it’ll do you some good to talk to her in the morning.”

Joel nods knowingly, half-smiling as he pushes your hair behind your ear, his thumb finding the sensitive dip behind your lobe and rubbing until you couldn’t hold your laughter in, letting it bubble out weakly before falling silent, a soft, but serious look growing across your features.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” You tell him, “please.”

“C’mere,” Joel nudges his chin upwards, drawing you in close, “I’m not goin’ down without a fight, darlin’.”

“I’m serious,” You don’t need to force a love confession on him, not that it would salvage anything or make things better, because Joel already understands—there’s too many instances where he’s felt his heart tug in all the weird, uncomfortable places he’s kept locked away since he was younger, before the outbreak, before Sarah, “you can’t do that anymore.”

“I’m here,” Joel assures you, forehead pressed firm against your own as he nods, “I’m right here.”

He failed to mention how after the attack, the split second of everything flashing through his memory, the possibility of losing Tommy, disappointing Ellie, that you were the one thing that kept him conscious enough to come home.

He’d left you with a burning kiss the day he left, kissing like two lovebirds trying to keep a secret as you hung around the stables as the pairs readied to leave.

It was his own little promise of a return, but you didn’t realize in just what shape. He was good at masking, even now. Joel was hurting, but all he wanted was you.

And you could give him that.

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Joel hums, soft and quiet, “Don’t move,” He pleads, “need you right here.”

His palms are heavy, feeling so much larger than they should as they span the length of your body, pulling you in close and cradling you like a safety blanket. Maybe you should stop, it isn’t the best route to cope with the situation, but Joel is there—wanting and needing and he’s mouthing at the junction of your neck in a way that has you gasping for air.

He needs you to occupy his mind, it’s what you did best for him. Joel needed somewhere else to be, anywhere but the hellscape behind his eyes when sleep succumbed to his pure exhaustion.

Just a moment. Just a moment to breathe. To feel.

Your brow furrows so deep that you're scowling now, but mostly out of concern, forehead scrunching from the emotion and you cradle Joel’s face carefully between your hands, “Tell me what you need.”

You.

He doesn’t say as much, but you can feel him sifting for your tattered pajama pants as he digs his fingertips under the waistband and yanks, hoping you’ll get the idea.

Okay, this is fine. He needs sex, you can provide him that. But, you won’t let him escape. Joel needed to be present and here with you, not forcing himself to some far off space in his mind and keeping you around him like nothing more than a warm body for him to fuck.

He’s got you all pliant under his touch as he needs at soft skin, thumb digging into your hip bone as he shifts between your legs lazily, spreading you wide and using the arm that is holding most of his weight to unfurl his hand and reach for that tight space behind your knee, tucking that leg up and over his right hip—this feels undoubtedly vulnerable, but he’s staring at you with those eyes and you absolutely fucking melt, his mouth parted by mere centimeters as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.

“Go on, darlin’,” Joel encourages, “I know you need it too.”

That was an understatement.

He’s already hard, head of his cock resting against the small expanse of skin between his groin and belly button. It’s like a wave of heat that rushes over your bodies when you finally touch him how he’s been begging—not so much with words but pleading looks. He needs it even more than you do.

Usually you would spend a while in the throes of leisurely foreplay, letting Joel devour you until you were nothing but a heap of numbness on the bed and only then would he allow you what you were begging for the entire time. His cock, buried deep enough inside you that it felt impossible. But, there was none of that.

Your thumb slides over the head, smearing the precum in a too teasing motion that has Joel cursing under his breath before you’re abruptly guiding him to your core, slick and waiting without a single touch, embarrassingly so. Fortunately, you and Joel were long over that. Joel was overly aware of the effect he had on you—mind, body, and soul.

He slides home and you have to take a moment, a second to breath, chest expanding with a full breadth of air as Joel pulls you in closer, if that was even possible, warm hands settling firm on your hips, his head resting against the pillow you both shared, “There she is,” Joel comments vexingly, “always know what you need, right, baby?”

As good as it feels to hear him, the way he can melt you with a single phrase or sound, he’s still on guard in the way he’s shielding himself against your body, rocking his hips in a motion that drowns out all relative thinking and it builds, builds until you can’t take it and you feel like you just might burst. You slip a hand out from under him to pull at the chain on his bedside lamp, drowning you in a soft yellow glow and Joel doesn’t look right away—that’s how you know.

“Switch me,” You suggest softly, followed by an even lower, disgruntled noise from Joel, “—Joel, come on.”

Joel feels that distant ache in his bones, the soreness in his hands from the damage they caused, he groans with the movement, but even louder with the way you sink back down onto him once he’s settled against the mattress, hands fisted into his shirt and rumpling it up his stomach, revealing a few inches of soft skin, grinding down against him until he’s nearly writhing. His mouth opens slightly, ready to say something you didn’t want to hear.

You offer a soft shhh, eyes focused on the lines of his face, beautiful with age and scrunched up in pleasure, eyes closed as he settles into the feeling of you again, “Stay with me,” You jeer quietly, a soft giggle settling on the surface as you smile, ever so slightly, ”‘can you do that?”

Sometimes it feels like an impossible feat, but Joel grips you a little tighter, pulls you in ever the more closer and the slick of your body feels so goddamn good, he doesn’t even realize his thought breached his lips before your breath is hot against his ear, his mind battling the thoughts buried under the surface and every filthy thing he could blurt out in the moment, he’s so tense with anticipation, “Stop thinking so hard, Joel. You’re home. Safe.”

And for once, he gives in. A long, hard fought battle that succumbs to his own exhaustion, allowing the kinder touches, the intimate glances between two people, almost like your fingertips were grazing each other’s souls. It’s felt intense before, but this moment is sharp around the edges and Joel knows what you need to hear. He’s fought it for a while, trying to right his wrongs, remind himself still, that he didn’t deserve you. He’s done fighting.

“Just need you, darlin’.” He admits gruffly, lips sliding against each other in a messy, lazy attempt at a kiss, “Always know just what to do.”

In other words, you could read Joel like a book.

And in the few years you’ve known him, you were hoping that was the case, considering the level of intimacy you’ve reached. Joel comes with a tired, drawn out groan that pierces you deep, and you’re right there—right there, before Joel is flipping you over with little fight on your end, sucking on your clit with a ferocity that doesn’t let up, coming with a shout as you grip his hair at the root, riding out the extent of your climax against his mouth as he eased you into your sated state of exhaustion.

The comedown is heavy, long, extended bouts of silence as you two try to catch your breath, slow your pounding hearts and Joel, at some point, finds his way higher up your body, his head laying against your chest, just underneath your breasts and it's an easy position to rub your fingers into his hair, along the planes of his face. He'd never admit it, but this is his favorite part. The after.

For you, it was everything.

"I want you around more often," Joel says quietly, like a whisper, "—m'tired of worrying about you when you're not around."

It almost makes you think you slipped into some sort of fugue state, not believing that the Joel Miller had said anything remotely close to a confession. But, then again, he surprised you every day. And you knew he couldn't ask you outright, not now, maybe not ever.

But, you'd settle for this.

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel." You promise, "You've always got me to come home too."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #my writing #posting this and hiding for another six months #pedrostories

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my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 2 months

Text

Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader - Fluff oneshot about being married and wanting babies

a little over 1k words, A fluff piece about Katsuki wanting a baby and wanting it NOW. Slightly spicy at the end, like paprika levels of spice (AGED UP THOUGH DON'T COME FOR ME). Give me your requests/comments, I love hearing from you people!

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"Wifey..." Katsuki grumbled, his face buried into your neck, his thumb gently rubbing the plush skin of your stomach up and down. One arm was wrapped around your waist, the other straight beneath your head, and the man himself was spooning you. It was early in the morning, 7:13 to be exact, and he had just woken up. He was still in his black tank top and boxers, It was basically his summertime uniform when it came to sleepwear. What could he say? He was a simple man.

The sun was shining in through the blinds, dappling the neat and tidy room with rays of light, inviting the both of you out of bed. It was a Saturday, the only day Katsuki took completely off (and only because you made him promise to), but unfortunately he woke up at around the same time he would be heading to work.

This pissed him off, especially because he had been up late staring at the ceiling thinking, but once he was up, he was up, and now he had to make it your problem. Your slow breath and heart beat was comforting, sure, but so were your kisses, and your smile, and he wanted that so he would have it. Besides, he had something to talk to you about.

When you didn't rise from his gentle approach, he grumbled and growled, already losing patience. He decided to nibble on your neck, right at the base where it met your shoulder. His tongue gently pressed against the skin, before his teeth pushed a little harder against you. He wasn't going to draw blood, he wasn't going to actually hurt you, but he wanted you up and awake.

You groaned, it was his sharp canines that woke you, but you were already used to his tactics and just waved it off. "Katsuki...Go back to bed..." you mumbled, pushing your face into your pillow and shifting a little in his arms so the blanket covered you even more. "You know I can't," He argued, his voice low and husky from the lack of use yet.

Biting won't work? Fine then. He slipped his muscled arm out from beneath your head, sliding it under your body and meeting his other hand around your waist. Suddenly, he flipped over fast, his version of a death roll. You yelped in surprise, your head falling onto what used to be his pillow, but once you registered what happened you sat up with a pissed look on your face.

"Ok, I'm up! What is so goddamn important that you have to do all that?" He sat up with you, resting his weight on one elbow and grinning. He loved when you were mad, something about it made him twice as attracted to you. He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and grumbling, "I love you, Wifey." You had been married for 3 years and together for 8, he knew a thing or two about calming you down and making you happy. It worked and you knew it, your cheeks heating and your furrowed brow smoothing.

"W-well...You don't need to wake me up just to tell me that," you scoffed, trying to stay mad but ending up much calmer than before. "I didn't wake you up just for that, dumbass."

Your entire relationship, from acquaintances to spouses, he's called you that. It was to the point that in both of your vocabularies it was practically equal to the word "darling" or "baby," reserved for only the two of you and meant as a term of affection.

"Well what was it for," you asked with a peeved yet inquisitive voice, rubbing your eyes and laying back down to face him. he stayed sitting partially up, his hand grasping at your waist and pulling you close to him. He loved looking at you, seeing the little expressions you made, seeing all those pretty features so specific to you.

"Lets make a brat," He announced, grinning so widely that you'd think he was the Cheshire cat. He was never shy about his thoughts, always believing that beating around the bush got no one anywhere, but his frankness surprised you here.

You paused, your stunned expression amusing him, until finally you said, "W- Uh, R-Right now???" it was silent for a beat, before he burst out laughing at the fact that your first thought was the baby making and not the actual baby.

"No, idiot, not unless you wanna," he teased, planting a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on your scalp as he pulled you against him. "Nah, I just thought...y'know...maybe it'd be time..." He seemed nervous bringing this up, and rightfully so. it was a delicate topic, and one the two of you hardly touched on. You always wanted kids, and he knew that, but he also knew that timing was everything.

"Well...we are pretty stable right now, financially...and our jobs are pretty flexible, too..." You seemed to be thinking it over. You yourself were on special call with the hero agency, meaning you had a good salary but only worked on special occasions because of the nature of your quirk, and Katsuki had an even better salary and could call off whenever necessary because his squad was reliable enough to take care of things while he was gone. finally, after what he felt was years, you smiled up at him.

"We should have a baby," you giggled, and he couldn't help but smile. You pushed him over, forcing him to lay on his back as you peppered his face with kisses. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, the other gripping your upper thigh as you straddled him. As you kissed his cheek, a thought occurred to you, one that got you too curious to ignore. "How long have you been wanting this, anyway?"

He shrugged, sitting straight up and holding you in his lap. "Dunno," He mumbled. What a bad liar. You gave him that look, the one that meant he wasn't being slick, and he blushed red. "Shut up," he groaned, his hand rubbing up and down your sides mindlessly.

"I haven't said anything," you remarked, which caused his eyes to narrow a little. "Yeah you did, with that dumb face," he countered. "Listen, I promise that whatever it is, I won't judge!" You were begging at this point, and he found that adorable.

He thought about your words, his lips pressing together as he contemplated. finally, he sighed and turned away, muttering, "It's cause you were doin' the dishes..." The dishes? you always did the dishes. He could see your confusion on your face, so he was quick to explain.

"You just looked so damn cute, and it made me think about you... bein' my lil housewife..." he pressed his face into your neck, the last of his words being muffled. You knew he liked the domestic stuff, like when you cooked and cleaned, but you didn't know he liked it enough to put a baby in you. "But Kat, I'm basically already your housewife," you laughed, the heat of his face radiating against your skin.

"Well yeah, but not with kids." Don't get him wrong, he liked splitting the chores, and he was happy with you having your own job and money, but he also liked you doing household things. It wasn't about you doing the "womanly roles" either, and more about you just doing things at home. It was something he and only he got to see, something intimate, and he wanted more of it.

"I thought you said you didn't like kids," you pointed out, an amused tone in your voice. "It's different. Our kids will be the best kids." The idea made you a little giddy too, Katsuki playing with their kids, looking at them the way he looked at you, like they were the most important things in the whole wide world.

"Your offer still good," he asked, regaining his confidence as his voice lowered a little. "What offer," you asked as he pulled back from your neck and smirked mischievously at you. "To make 'em right now," he chuckled, watching as your eyes widened and your lips curved into a nervous smile. "what? Gotta get started as soon as possible, right?"

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Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, I just love the domestic crap, I live for it lol.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki #fanfic #anime #mha bakugou #mha fluff #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia #new to tumblr #new writers on tumblr #new writeblr

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spiteful-lvsts · 6 months

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•And I’m The Perfect Sacrifice•

• Final Guy!Reader x Slasher!Dottore

• AMAB Top!Reader x Bottom!Dottore

• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.

• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore

• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one

The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.

And yet, you can’t. You won’t.

Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.

“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.

He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”

Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.

There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”

“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”

“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.

And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.

A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.

So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.

Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...

Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.

“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.

In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.

Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?

He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”

A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.

Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.

Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.

When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.

You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.

Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.

The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.

A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.

Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.

So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.

“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.

When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.

Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.

“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”

The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.

Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.

His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.

You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”

And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.

All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.

Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.

All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.

It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.

You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.

Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.

Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.

It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.

Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.

The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.

Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’

He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.

You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.

Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.

It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!

His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.

Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.

You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.

A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.

When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.

How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.

Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.

In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.

Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.

Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.

But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?

Well, that’s between you and Dottore.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin x male reader #dottore #sub dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut #top reader #dom reader #male reader #gn reader #< ♥ > writing #i worry my writing is too incoherent sometimes :(#so i hope this makes sense #reader was supposed to be meaner but i accidentally made this hurt/comfort oops #cw blood #cw unsanitary

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pin-k-ink · 7 days

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Gojo Satoru X Reader

CW: implied age gap, teacher-student relationship, highly suggestive

send me your jjk thirsts

Gojo blamed the intense heat for making him see things. Or maybe it was his sexual frustration finally catching up to him because he swore he saw your plump butt, barely covered by Hello Kitty panties, hanging over the first-floor window. He knew it was you immediately, mostly because you were the only student who was stupid enough to try and climb out of the first-floor window, and partially because you were also notorious for collecting Hello Kitty merch. Apparently, the merch didn't just stop at small knick-knacks and plushies, judging by your underwear.

Your small feet kicked at the wall, one knee still perched on the windowsill, your entire torso still inside the building. Gojo contemplated whether he should just ignore you and go about his day because if it were any other student, it'd be a pretty uncomfortable encounter. But this was you, the baby of his class – cute and naive but an absolute menace in combat, a combination he adored wholeheartedly.

He stood there on the ground for a while, staring at your ass. Not to be a creep, but damn, you had a great ass. It was all plump and perky, accentuated by the fattest, juiciest thighs he'd ever seen. More often than not, he'd wonder what it would feel like to be crushed by them. He wasn't the only one. He once saw Yuji get a nosebleed after getting headlocked by your thighs. The moment your thighs circled around his head and trapped him, he had given up instantly and went limp. It was amusing, to say the least, but Gojo couldn't blame him. He had a rule not to lust after his students; perhaps you could be the only exception.

He let out a sharp whistle and watched, amused, as your body tensed. "What're you doing up there?" he teased with a small smirk, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin.

You fumbled to get inside quickly, but you lost your footing on the windowsill. Gojo's heart nearly stopped as he watched you fall, your stomach colliding painfully with the side of the window. Without thinking, he rushed forward, his arms outstretched to catch you.

You landed in his arms with a soft thud, and Gojo couldn't help but notice how perfectly you fit against his body. He held you close for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before gently setting you down.

You hunched over, clutching your stomach as small tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. Gojo felt a pang of concern, but he kept his hands in his pockets, waiting for you to acknowledge him.

After a while, you slowly looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. Gojo felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

"Sensei... I, uh... thank you for catching me," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo chuckled, trying to ignore the way his heart raced at the sound of your voice. "You know, if you wanted to sneak out, you could've just used the door. But I guess that wouldn't have been as entertaining, would it?" he teased, his signature smirk still plastered on his face.

You pouted, averting your eyes. "I wasn't sneaking out! I was just... getting some fresh air."

"Fresh air, huh? In your Hello Kitty underwear?" Gojo couldn't resist teasing you further, enjoying the way you squirmed under his gaze.

"Shut up! It's laundry day, okay?" you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Gojo's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, next time you decide to get some 'fresh air,' make sure you've got a spotter. Wouldn't want you to fall and hurt yourself."

You rolled your eyes, but Gojo could see the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, yeah. I'll keep that in mind."

As you turned to walk away, Gojo let his gaze linger on your retreating form, admiring the way your curves moved with each step. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you in that way, but damn, it was getting harder and harder to resist.

With a sigh, he shook his head and turned to head back inside, silently promising himself that he'd keep his less-than-pure thoughts in check. After all, you were his student, and he had a responsibility to maintain a professional relationship.

But deep down, he knew that promise was going to be a difficult one to keep, especially with you constantly testing his self-control, whether you realized it or not.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk fluff

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tkwrites · 25 days

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Let the Cleaners Deal With It - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Let the Cleaners Deal With It

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC)

Warnings: Periods, Menstruation, talks of blood, and embarrassment. If I missed something, please let me know.

Summary: When Quinn wakes to Sarah frantically cleaning after unexpectedly getting her period, he insists she let the cleaners deal with it.

Word Count: 750

Comments: Thank you to the Lovely Anon who requested this. Your request came in, and my mind immediately started whirring.

I saw you like fancfic ideas. for the Quinn and Sarah series: Maybe Sarah gets her period at an inconvenient place and Quinn helps her deal with it. Or maybe she bleeds through while she’s sleeping and he’s super sweet about it. Major fluff

Let the Cleaners Deal with it

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

It was too early for either of them to be up. The city lights were still visible through the windows, the inky night sky spilling out behind their artificial glow. Even still, Sarah was up and rustling around. From her movement, she sounded almost frantic.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked. His voice was groggier than he expected and he cleared his throat.

“I'm just - cleaning up.”

“What?” he asked, sitting up.

She blew a harsh breath out of her nose, “I got my period.”

With an ice cube in one hand and paper towels in the other, she was trying to work the blood out of his soft, expensive sheets.

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim Quinn could see the small spot on the gray-blue material. Scooting closer, he reached for her hand, stopping the frenzied way she was attacking it with the ice. “You don't need to do that. The cleaners can get it out.”

She made a noise in her throat, pulled her wrist out of his grasp, and continued on. “Quinn I got blood on your sheets. It's better to get it out now while it's fresh so it won't stain,” she said, pressing the paper towel down to soak up the blood and water.

This time, he reached out and took the ice cube from her hand. He regretted it immediately. Even though it forced her to stop, he didn’t have anywhere to put it. Now it was melting, cold water trickling between his fingers

She finally looked up and met his eyes, embarrassment all over her pretty face.

He knew he was still partially asleep, but he didn’t know why she was making such a big deal of this. It’s not like she could help it. “Why are you so worried?”

“I'm twenty seven years old. I've been getting a period for thirteen fucking years. I should have a handle on this by now,” she said, arms crossing over her chest as her shoulders shrugged almost to her ears as if she were trying to hide.

Quinn rubbed his eyes, willing his mind to wake. “Didn’t you tell me last week that your IUD makes it so your cycle is hard to predict?”

“Yeah.”

“So how would you know it was coming?”

“I don't know,” she said, exasperated, throwing her hands up.

“Do you need anything? Tampons or whatever?”

“No, I had a disc in my bag.”

“Do you have cramps? Do you need me to get you some Tylenol or get you off?”

She arched an eyebrow.

“What? Isn't having an orgasm supposed to help with period cramps?”

“Yeah, but why do you know that?”

“I've had other girlfriends, Sar,” he reminded gently. “I know because they told me.”

She wrinkled her nose, not liking to think about his past girlfriends.

“So no cramps? Or yes, cramps?”

“No. I don't really get them anymore with the IUD. I'm just really fucking embarrassed,” she said, her free hand covering her eyes.

“This is just your body doing what it does, except it didn't give you any warning,” Quinn said. “I promise the cleaners can get it out. They’ve gotten all kinds of stains out of my clothes before.”

Her shoulders dropped, almost defeated.

“Come back to bed,” he said, scooting back to his side, and wiping his hand on the duvet cover.

“The sheets are all wet now,” she said, pressing the paper towels in again, attempting to soak up the moisture.

He tsked. “Guess you’ll have to sleep on top of me then,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

She laughed and threw the paper towels in the trash can.

Slipping under the covers, she didn’t get on top of him, but she did crowd into his half of the bed.

“Thank you for being so understanding about this,” she said, her voice quiet and chagrined.

“It’s not like you can help it,” he said, rolling onto his side so he could pull her against him and tuck his nose into her hair.

She tried to fall back to sleep, but it didn’t come. She couldn’t get his casual invitation to get her off out of her mind.

“Quinn,” she whispered a little later, trailing her fingers up his arm.

“Hmm?” His voice was low and sleepy.

“Does that offer to get me off still stand?”

He huffed a laugh into her hair, even as his hand inched down her stomach. “Did those cramps set in?”

“Something like that.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #asks #answered #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes oneshot #qh43 #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction #tw periods #tw blood

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savnofilter · 10 months

Text

Text Me Back | Katsuki Bakugo

Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, sexting, sending nudes, crude jokes, mention of myspace™, p.o.v switches, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 4k words [15 mins].

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist].

A/N: gosh i wish i couldve done more with this but... i'll figure it out later. may revamp or do a part 2 but it depends on how motivated. anyways, enjoy. 🥹 also i just realized that reader did nothing the whole day LMAOOOO so ignore that pls omg. thank you, anon!

As spring rolled around, the air had a certain chill to it.

It was a crisp scent with sharp edges, the smell of growing plants clinging onto the molecules within the vicinity. As a result of the coolness in your room, you probably should turn on the heater in your apartment. Usually, you wouldn't have to worry about doing it yourself, but due to maintenance delaying another day later to fix the issue, you now find yourself in an internal battle to get up out of your bed for your comfort.

Of course, you didn't hate the spring atmosphere. You liked it. The nostalgic and tender feel it gave your body and mind gave a fake sense of comfort that you desired. But you would desperately love it more if you could bask in such ideals while in the comfort of your lukewarm sheets, temperature heightened by the air of the room.

You groan in disdain at the fact you had to get out of your bed. You begrudgingly roll onto your side and feel around for your phone on your nightstand. Once finding your device you click the button on the side to partially unlock it to see what you have missed from being asleep. Of course, regular things like Twitter notifications were present, Snapchat, Instagram, MySpace, etc… until a message stuck out the most amid your roll call.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Light schedule today, museum date?

I know you will wake up late, so I'll decide for you. Pick-up is at 7 p.m.

[✓] Sent 8:42 A.M.

You immediately perk up at the notification, a goofy smile spreading onto your lips.

Bakugo has been your boyfriend for about three years now. You had originally met years prior when you both were in school. Him being an intern for superhero-ing and you were an intern for hands-on training within the superhero management world. You were a little shit and he was an even more of a little shit… and that's what made you two click. Even with his calloused way of showing his emotions, he had still been pretty evident about his feelings towards you when you two were merely friends. In the same way, you two could work and piss each other off to no end, there was a great sense of duality showcased by empathy, love, and compassion toward each other. When you needed someone or something, you could always count on your boyfriend, Katsuki.

You chewed the inside of your lip as your brain racked your head at the things you needed to do today. Today was Friday so you were sure you wouldn't have anything on your schedule. But because you tended to let things slip your head, you still had to double-check to make sure. You light up once again as you realize today was only a busy day for yourself—chores, errands, and minimum job-related things you could finish at home. Nothing dire; just adulting.

You

and what if I said no????

how'd y'know i'd wake up late lol

[✓] 13:01 P.M.

After quickly adjusting your noise settings from silent to vibrate, you bring your phone back down onto the nightstand and properly sit up to avoid your back from aching at an uncomfortable angle. You stretch in delight, arms brought over your head and your eyes shut exerting all of the drowsiness within you. You coil back into yourself once the cold air you had forgotten about hits your skin as a rude reminder. You glare at the thermostat before swiftly throwing your covers off and trudge your way to the small dial and fix the dilemma yourself.

While fiddling with the switch, you hear your buzz behind you. Your brows scrunch in frustration as you can feel yourself start to get agitated at how it's acting, finally getting the stupid little compartment to work before walking off. You nearly trip on your way back to bed in an effort to get back to the warmth of your bed.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You always wake up in the evening, dumbass.

& you have a free schedule today.

[✓] Sent 13:08 P.M.

You scoff.

Your chat bubbles float up on the screen on his end as you try to think of something more annoying to combat him with. You fall short.

You

Damn.

[✓] Sent 13:11 P.M.

You think to yourself before pausing and sending another text.

You

shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me

a kid is probably drowning rn bc Lord Explosion Murder Dynamight is sexting his girlfriend instead of doing his job.

did you change your name to your hero name AGAIN???

[✓] Sent 13:15 P.M.

If loving this kind of banter was something that you enjoyed, may the devil take you away. You couldn't help the grin mischievously as you waited for his correspondence. You were practically on the edge of your bed waiting for his reply.

A few minutes go by and he hasn't replied. There's a pang of hurt following your spiraling thoughts. Who cared if a kid was really drowning-

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied to your text: shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me}

Is work in the room with us?

[✓] Sent 13:25 P.M.

You're almost quick to reply before seeing his speech bubbles pop up again, eyes watching in interest. You can't help but feel nervicited seeing it disappear and reappear, proud to have stunned him. What you didn't know is what he was fixing himself to say.

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied and highlighted: … Dynamight is SEXTING HIS GIRLFRIEND instead of doing his job.}

No pic, no proof

[✓] Sent 13:27 P.M.

You squint at your phone and pause. Did he just quote the way you talk AND send you a musty and memefied reply all in one go? You huff at his bravery, rolling your eyes but feeling a deep blush creep up on your cheeks. Your phone vibrates.

Bakugo ��💕

Don't tell me you folded that fast, babe.

[✓] Sent 13:31 P.M.

Oh, but you did. You weren't expecting him to fire back at you like this. Often when you made an innuendo of some sort he'd whine and brush it off as if he hasn't beaten your doonies down multiple times—sometimes all in one night. But you refused to let him win this. You need to think fast.

Again, the cool air caresses your exposed hand, the stroke of the uncomfortable chill making you hiss. You position yourself on your back where you can safely cover the backs of your hands as you held your phone. A few more minutes had passed than you had noticed, your screen growing dim as you were forced to look at your newly awakened and chilled state.

That's when it hit you.

No pic, no proof, right?

As you shiver feeling a stroke of air pass over again, a sign that the temperature in the room is actively changing, you look down at your chest. In your defense, they looked at you first. Your nipples are profoundly erect and poking at your shirt begging for attention. You purse your lips before looking back at your screen, contemplating your next moves. Sucking in a small breath you quickly awaken your phone and swipe your screen over to take a photo of yourself.

You angle the electronic to show your chest, your other hand dragging up some of your shirt to show little skin of your stomach. Your nipples were still very much the prominent part of the image. After realistically struggling a bit, you snap the picture and quickly hum in surprise at how good it is. If you were in any other state than your current one, you would've retaken it but you couldn't feel yourself to care knowing he's an ass anyway.

You decide to say something after the image as you bring up the chat and send in the picture.

You

(IMAGE)

is this proof?

[✓] Sent 13:40 P.M.

After setting your phone down and interlocking your fingers together, you stare up at the sky: now that you think about it, what possessed you to send such a scandalous picture all of a sudden? The hormone monster? When was the last time you sent him a proper nude? You rub your face and groan as you now really think about it.

No matter how many times you have sent spicy images, it was the mock post nut clarity after sending it off. Debating if the pic was good enough or hoping that it somehow didn't change sender at the last second. The vulnerable feeling starts to claw its way into your body… and yet you refuse to let it get to you. Just like how everything with Bakugo is, all the nervous feelings always filled you with excitement. You couldn't wait to see his response because you knew damn well he was your munch.

You hear your phone buzz once before turning your head to see it fade to black again. Deciding to not look at it straight away, you get up for the second time today. Fortunately, your room was starting to warm up which meant it was the perfect time to start your day (yes, nearing the second hour of the evening). Your phone buzzes again and you choose to ignore it.

Running through your routine is clockwork. Use the bathroom, brush your teeth, shower, facial, and the last part you hadn't reached yet was to get dressed. You had honestly forgotten about teasing your long-term boyfriend as you freshened up for the day. Typically, you did this as a way to relieve stress and rejuvenate yourself. You hum as you lotion up yourself, welcoming back the feelings of giddiness back to your body. There was no need to rush this; it was almost as though the teasing was for your enjoyment more than his. Again you wrap yourself in your robe and finally sit on your bed to go on your phone. His message reads:

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳Loved your message.

Fuck.

Is this how we're playing today?

[✓] Sent 13:41 P.M.

You bite the inside of your lip before a smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type up a reply.

You

you don't want more? okay… ;( 💔

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

He immediately opens your message and his speech bubbles become afloat.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You know damn well that's not what I meant, brat.

Another form of confirmation would be suitable.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

There's a pause before he sends his next text.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Please.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

You

I guess you can since you asked nicely…

[✓] Sent 14:41

He was a good boy you had to admit. When he wanted you, he certainly knew how to play the rules until he could be on top. You admired that about him.

You slightly turn your head to the mirror of your bed. You were currently out of sight in the reflection but had an idea of how you could use it. You scooch up to the edge of your bed, sitting with your legs on each side of the corner closest to the body mirror. Before you could even think about sending off a photo you pull your hair back and neaten it up whether it was with a bonnet or messy bun. Regardless you knew he wouldn't give a fuck but this surge in arousal made you want to look sexy in your most natural state. Skin glowing and thriving, you felt like a goddess.

Blessed that the room is warm enough for you to be naked, you partially undress; eyes watch your irresistible figure come to reveal itself. Of course, even with how much you loved yourself, you couldn't show all of yourself just yet. You pull your robe open enough to expose your chest, a small huff of discontent leaving as the air hits your naked skin again. A hum leaves your chest as you admire yourself a bit more, before positioning the camera in a way to show off your chest. You knew this would drive him insane. After a few awkward angles and shots, you deemed your favorite one and opened back up the messages app once again.

You waste no time uploading the pictures but grow a bit hesitant as you can’t help but feel nervous. You’d think after doing this with a trusted partner it’d be a breeze at this stage. You fidget on the edge of the bed as you type up, delete, then retype, decide to delete and then the process continues. ‘Why was this so hard?? Just send the damn pic!’ You sigh and type up your final draft, ready to send the first proper nude for the evening.

With a final decision, you decide to go with something simple.

You

how’s this?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 14:57

You immediately close out the app once you send it off and fall back onto your bed. There’s a giddy smile on your face as you could only imagine what his reaction would be to see the photo. That was the whole exciting thing about this: the teasing that transpires and the adrenaline rush you receive from it. You don’t bother to check if he’s seen it yet as you think it would be best to let your heart rest. Luckily, it’s not long before you need to wait as your phone buzzes beside you.

After a few moments of waiting you sit up on your side to look at the message, your eyes immediately going for Bakugo’s text. You freeze upon seeing two messages in the same format as yours, a regular text followed by a photo to compliment the exchange. You raise your eyebrows as you prop yourself up on your hand now, tapping his notification and swiping up to look at what he has sent you.

You softly gasp as you open the image, something you were not expecting but will gladly accept. “More than perfect.” You read aloud and scrolled further down to look at the whole image. You grin upon seeing a picture of him palming his hard-on through his pants. It appeared by his scenery and clothing that he truly wasn’t out on patrol today, instead probably filming content to build his likability with his fanbase. Not only that, he was in a dressing room, by himself. He had more than enough time to do what he pleases.

Bakugo was more than ready to up the ante and your slow correspondence was killing him. He knew that this was a frequent way that you liked to tease and play dirty with him. He had been up since 5 a.m. and he was basically waiting impatiently for you to wake up.

It had been about a week or so since you two have seen each other and he was missing you badly. Your dumb jokes, your antics, the “arguments” and especially your touch. Apparently, the pre-planned date for tonight was the type of outing you needed as well. Bakugo sucks his teeth as he starts to feel a blush arise on his cheeks as he can’t help but think about you. And you weren’t making it better with how willing you are to toy with him.

Now it was the blonde-haired male's turn to be nervous awaiting your reply. He watched in expectancy to see your response, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch in his dressing room to read your reply.

#1 Brat

not too bad yourself, honey~

[✓] Sent 15:21

Katsuki is quick to start typing again, pausing when he sees your chat bubbles pop up on his phone.

#1 Brat

mind sending another one more… revealing?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 15:23

He chuckles at your proposition. The laugh subsides as he takes in the new image, revealing more of your body in your lying down position practically mimicking the first photo you had sent for the day. The robe artfully covers but also shows your body and he can’t but groan as he longs to touch you. Your breasts, legs, and tummy are so fucking attractive to him. The fact that you have a pretty face tops it all off makes him feel as though he’s won the jackpot being in love with you. But there was one part that he was longing to see as well, the piece of heaven between your legs. The blonde-haired hero grunts as he starts to type up his message.

Bakugo 🤭💕

I could ask the same from you, beautiful.

[✓] Sent 15:26

You

ah-ah, you first!

[✓] Sent 15:27

“This…” Katsuki mumbles to himself but doesn’t stop from unbuckling his pants anyways. With how hard his length appeared in the earlier photo, it is no surprise at how confined it was pressing against his underwear. With a simple tug, he releases his cock from his briefs, a soft groan leaving his lips as he strokes his cock. The warmth of his hand certainly did not compare to yours at all.

He imagines your hot hands caressing every bit of his skin, your warm mouth that’s skilled with playing with his sweet spots, your plush thighs that wrap around his waist or squish his face. The way he could watch how your chest jiggle with each thrust, the way that your pussy never fails to take him in like it was made for him. Everything about you was cursing him and he needed you badly.

Bakugo tilts his head back against the top of the couch as he starts to speed up his thrusts, now fully getting into the thought of what he’d do to you if you were right next to him right now. How he could easily pick you up and pin you onto the couch as he pounds into you like no tomorrow, not giving a fuck if your moans were too loud and anyone passing by could hear the lewd noises coming from within the room. The way he could watch your face contort into the most erotic expressions all because of him, his touch, his mouth, and his dick most importantly. The moment his hips buck to meet his own stroking hand makes him realize he had distracted himself from his main task.

He fumbles around for his phone before setting it up the way you like the most when watching his videos. The angle is perfectly angled to showcase his impressive length, not tew much balls but enough to show the goodies. He made sure to be vocal as well, letting the camera show his stroking and his thumb rubbing his tip every so often to increase the pleasure. A few times you could hear his soft grunts of your name or an exploitive to release the building-up tension from his masturbation session.

He breathes out as he speeds up his strokes. It seems as though with his jerking that he's getting closer and closer to his climax, the only thing clouding his mind is only you. He softly pants and starts to collect perspiration of sweat on his forehead as he works up to his orgasm. He clenches his jaw as he finally finishes and continues to stroke, showing how much cum he can milk from himself. He hums in mere satisfaction and ends the video to clean up. Unfortunately, that in itself did not rid himself of the boner; a new one was already starting to grow once again.

When he processes the video through the messaging app, there is no cheeky remark or commentary. He is officially worked up and cannot wait any longer.

Bzzz Bzzz

Your eyes widen as you finally get your reply back. You tilt your head in curiosity and feel your heart skip a beat. It is a video. Katsuki sent a fucking video. You bite your lower lip and open the message. There was no other text to accompany it but you already knew what you were in for.

Your breath hitches as the video is straight to the point. You watched his perfectly manicured and clean nails skillfully play with his cock, his large hand almost struggling to wrap around his own length. You hear a small moan and you quickly raise the volume, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that you can hear the erotic noises come from him.

Your hand immediately shoots down to untie your robe, slick already starting to increase and your clit pulsing. You shamelessly moan as your deft fingers stroke at your vulva, your mouth in the shape of an, “o” as you use your fluid to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Shit!” You close your eyes with the image of him stroking his cock deeply ingrained in your mind. The noises he made were enough for you to get off on your own. Your middle finger rubs heavy circles into your clit while your other hand busies itself playing with your nipple, the feeling making you lightly shiver. The sounds of his heavy breathing and the silkiness of his hand rubbing his shaft were driving you crazy, and soon enough your petting wasn’t doing the job. You opt for fingering yourself instead, huffing out a whimper as your fingers barely fill your cunt but make up for it by finding your g-spot at the roof of your pussy.

You weakly open your eyes to watch the screen, your breath growing short and light as you meet your fingering with Katsuki’s stroking hand. Another buzz from your phone makes you sit up a little. Your confused and dazed attention span manages to catch the notification that rolls at the top of the screen.

Bakugo 🤭💕 — 15:45

You better not be finishing yourself off without . . .

You groan in annoyance as you remember why you were even diddling yourself in the first place. You slow your strokes down to properly set up your phone, hastily trying to find a proper angle that shows off your body in its entirety (which wasn’t that hard to do as you were in your bed). You spread your legs for the camera and look into the front camera lens as you insert both fingers into your cunt once again. You tilt your head to the side as you look down at your fingers and work a third finger into yourself.

You moan out his name as you work your right hand's fingers into you, building up to the same pace that you had before with the extra digit inside. “Need you so bad, baby--” You groan, looking back up at the screen. Your left-hand comes up to play with your tits again, the robe that still adorned you slipping off your shoulder as you got closer to your climax.

You whimper, finishing off with your fingers, your eyes looking at your cunt taking in your fingers before glancing back at the camera in lust. You repeated, “fuck” as if in a mantra, your eyes closing and your hips bucking to ride yourself to release. You smile as you slowly take out your fingers, your slick sticking to your fingers and your cunt glistening in juices. Your cunt was puffy and warm with arousal pumping through it and it was clear that you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. You scoot a bit closer to show off your sticky fingers, spreading them for him. You hit stop recording with your clean hand after your finished, wasting no time uploading it into the messenger app.

You

of course not, only for you~

(VIDEO)

[✓] Sent 15:55

As soon as you send it in, a text from him follows. You hop up from your bed as you read, heading back to your bathroom to clean yourself up even though the inevitable would have you in the same state as before.

Bakugo 🤭💕

000-0000 Tokyo-to

Be here in 10 minutes.

[✓] Sent 15:56

Hopefully, your newly scheduled meeting won’t delay his filming.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo katsuki x reader #pro hero!bakugo x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha oneshots #mha imagines #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav's saucin'

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icaberries · 4 months

Text

What if the Vinsmokes were in the Wano Arc?

Go read Part 1 here but TL;DR the Vinsmokes regain their ability to feel emotions and escape Germa with Sanji and the Strawhats.

Mostly headcanons with a side of canon plot.

They’re still modded physically, but now their pain receptors are active so they’re dealing with the ramifications of years of neglecting their body. Ichiji is partially blind from using Valkyrie, Niji has burn marks all over his body, and Yonji has chronic pain in his wrists. It's a struggle, but they feel like they deserve it after all the torment they inflicted.

Ichiji comes across traditional tattoo shops in Wano and decides to get new tattoos on a whim. The ‘1’ tattoo he had before had been his first rebellion against his father and now that he’s free he wants to add more to it. He gets tattoos for all his siblings along his other arm—a pink butterfly for Reiju, a blue lightning bolt for Niji, a green clover for Yonji and a yellow sun for Sanji. It helps to ground him when the Feelings™ get overwhelming and reminds him that he’s not alone in this world.

The drama in Shokugeki no Sanji with Sanji’s soba stall still happens, only this time he’s backed up by the rest of his siblings who glares at the soba competitors in submission.

Reiju is first in line when the soba stall officially opens. She’d had to fight her brothers and the Strawhats for it. Robin is a close second but only because Reiju was distracted by her. If you know what I mean ;)

The handcuffs left marks on Sanji’s wrists. Surprisingly, it’s Niji who asks why Sanji’s hands are so precious to him and Sanji tells them about Baratie and Zeff. There’s something about the sparkle in Sanji’s eyes as he talks that draws them in, the way he speaks so highly and softly about his found family on the East Blue. They wonder, if somewhere down the line, Sanji would speak about them with that same fond tone.

Niji gifts Sanji a pair of dark brown leather gloves, long enough to cover the marks on his wrist. Sanji wears it to the raid and Niji is quite proud of it and claims he must be Sanji's favorite brother now. Until Ichiji chimes in and says that Sanji’s hairstyle as Stealth Black/Soba Mask is more similar to his and confidently declares himself as Sanji’s favorite brother. Ichiji and Niji argue for hours.

(It’s actually Yonji who's the favorite. Sanji only has one little brother and he’s got a soft spot for him.)

Just imagine Law, Basil Hawkins and X Drake watching Soba Mask. Now imagine them seeing a group of brightly-colored siblings cheering on Soba Mask, while they themselves look like Sparking Red, Electric Blue, Wench Green and Poison Pink. It’s a good day to be a North Blue fanboy in Wano.

AND NOW FOR SOME ANGST!

They witness Sanji awakening his modifications and for a brief moment they’re happy that Sanji caught up to them like he always wanted, until they see the horrified look on Sanji’s face. He looks so afraid to turn out like them, to the point that he’d ask his own crewmate (Zoro) to take him down if he ever ended up like them. They’re not even mad. They’re just sad and guilty that Sanji felt that way.

There’s a brief lull in the battle and Reiju pulls her brothers aside to tell them about their mother and her sacrifice. She told Sanji that story so he’d remember that his life was worth living and being kind. Now she’s telling the same story to Ichiji, Niji and Yonji so they can remember the same thing. Sora wanted them to live and be good.

After his fight with Queen, the brothers hug it out. Reiju may or may not have taken a picture.

Right after that, the brothers now hug Reiju! Because she deserves it alright! Years of pretending for Judge, of keeping her brother's in check and dealing with their mother's death, Reiju did her best to be there for all of them. Now she gets to see her little brothers grow up into the good people their mother wanted them to be and she can finally stop pretending. She can be herself again <3

(I love Reiju sm yall but that's just the eldest daughter syndrome talking)

The road to redemption is paved with triumphs and stumbles. It’s just fortunate for them that Sanji has a good sense of direction.

AND NOW BACK TO FLUFF!

Yonji continues to cement himself as the favorite when he calls Chuji the cutest thing in the world and proceeds to share his snacks with the little guy. Niji and Ichiji never stood a chance. Little brother is strong and is hitting all of Sanji's buttons.

The worst part of regaining emotions though? It’s not the gooey mushy feelings of love, or the cold guilt and shame over their past mistakes, it’s the annoyance they now feel whenever they witness Roronoa Zoro flirt with their oblivious brother. They can’t stand him. Unfortunately, he makes Sanji happy so they’re forced to seethe on the sidelines while Zoro picks another fight/flirting session with Sanji.

Reiju doesn’t tell them that it’s not just Zoro they have to worry about. Trafalgar Law keeps finding an excuse to check Sanji over for his “health”, a jaguar mink keeps asking him out to smoke together, don’t even get her started on Basil Hawkins and X Drake asking her for her blessing. That’s not even counting Sanji’s other suitors who aren’t in Wano right now. Their baby brother is quite the popular guy.

#one piece #vinsmoke siblings #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke reiju #vinsmoke sora #red leg zeff #my posts #roronoa zoro #zosan #sanzo #allsan

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moronkombat · 6 months

Note

Idk if you’ve done this before but can you do nsfw alphabet for Kenshi?🙏

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very affectionate, tender and caring with his partner after sex. Toned arms will wrap around you, holding you close while he kisses the top of your head. Once he has a comforting hold over you, do not expect to be getting up any time soon. Kenshi's aftercare is a very cuddly experience

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kenshi favorite part of himself are his hand. Fingers are slender and long. Ink patterns cover the entirety of it making it feel leathery but smooth. Though the tattoos were gained during his time with the Yakuza, he still marvels at just how delicate his hands look. They do not look like the hands of a killer or someone seeking vengeance. His hands are that of a pianist or someone who plays the violin. Perhaps in another lifetime he would be such an artist

With his sight lost to him, he mourns the entire visage of you. He uses his hands to feel you and etch out your features. His favorite place to trace is your face. The curve of you nose, the dip of your cheek, he loves being able to trace them over your skin

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Has no strong preference in terms of where he finishes. If he's looking for a mess then he'll cum on your stomach or ass. If he's wanting to be more romantic then he'll cum inside you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kenshi's dirty secret is he almost wishes you'd tie him up or bind him to the bed. Typically you're the one tied up but he's always been curious how to feels but has not yet brought that up to you. He wants you to play with him, tease and taunt him so that he can break free of those bindings and punish you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kenshi had experience under his belt and knows what he is doing. He's had relationships in the past, both casual and long term so he knows his way around the bedroom. If he had a partner who wasn't experienced he would guide them

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

There many different positions Kenshi is partial too but he has two favorites. When you ride him and taking you from behind. Your hips grind and swirl against him and he groans. The sense of touch so heightened that he feels this ecstasy within his bones. Moaning whispers travel straight through his ears and to Kenshi your breathless wisp a booming thunder

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It can be a mix during sex. He can be very serious and concentrated. However, he also likes seeing your face twist and squirm when he plays a bit too much. Your reactions make him want to play with you more and more

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Kenshi is groomed but not shaven. He prefers it neat and tidy and will frequently trim it to keep it at an acceptable. Also has a bit of chest hair that he forgets to shave at times

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy and romance are one in the same for Kenshi. He expresses his love for you not only verbally but with his action. Really enjoys taking you out to eat somewhere nice and bringing you to impressive sights even if he cannot experience them to the fullest. Spending time with you is very important

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does but it's not as enjoyable as having sex with you. Therefore, he does it rarely, maybe every other week or so. Will typically masturbate to thoughts and pictures of his partner when he is away from them

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage and Restraints- Kenshi enjoys bondage because he loves your reactions . You make such pitiful whining noises when his hands roam you but you unable to touch him. You shutter under him as his tongue travels down your naval and you begin to writhe so beautifully. You are so exposed to him and he will consume all of you

Biting and Scratching- This is something he likes both ways. He likes when you dig your nails into his back. It truly makes him feel alive. At the same time he also loves leaving little love bites as small reminders of your bedroom tango

Discipline and Punishment- Just the idea of this is pure sex to Kenshi. He likes when you're naughty and misbehave so he can punish you. He's never too intense with it and doesn't leave bruises. His punishment is more teasing you for awhile, leaving you wanting him to touch you more but denying you this

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Prefers the bedroom because it feels much more private. He'll also light candles or dim the lights to create a more sensual feel

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He is turned on by your body and your words of affection. Simon is motivated by your words and affection. He also quite likes when you misbehave. He acts annoyed by it but he loves it. He loves when you're a bit mischievous with him so that way he can make it up to you later

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While he enjoys your teasing, he does not like when it is constant or when his partner is unaffectionate. He likes a partner who can be lighthearted and funny but also caring and sensitive to his softer side

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kenshi rather likes receiving oral over giving it. Not to say he won't, he will. But there is just something so devious with her head between his legs, mouth so stuffed full that Kenshi simply cannot go without

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He knows how to be slowly sensual and rough as an animal. The choice is heavily what his partner is seeking. His preference is a mix between the two. Something that can be ruthless one moment and then tender the next. Best of both worlds according to him

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kenshi is a fan of quickies. He sees it as an exciting addition to sex and a way of letting off steam quickly. He doesn't engage in them frequently but will do so spontaneously to spice things up

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Definitely willing to experiment because he likes when it's fresh and exciting. Won't do anything that will cause himself or his partner too much pain and discomfort as that is something he is not interested in

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Typically can go for about 2-3 rounds. He doesn't necessarily become exhausted but prefers to engage in some tender aftercare with his partner instead of continuing to go multiple rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has them and will use them on his partner if he finds himself in the mood for it. He'll typically have a few on standby and prepared for his partner

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Incredibly unfair and teasing. He will take his time tormenting you and sending so close to the edge of oblivion. He will let you finish eventually but not after having his fill of you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

All of his senses much more reactive so what may seem so simple to someone else, can be earth shattering to Kenshi. This often leads him being very vocal in bed. He will try to keep them at bay but his partner feels too excellent around him. He'll moan and whimper, often right into your ear as he pulls you close to him. Kenshi, when in the right moment, finds dirty talk rather appealing. There's just something about taking you from behind that makes his mind twist. He'll call you names, vile and wretched names that have your gut coiling and flexing within itself

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Something he would like to try in the bedroom is some role play. Nothing too intense but something light and fun to change things up a bit

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Kenshi is a grower and has more length then he does width. Exceptionally sensitive when touched and caressed, especially the underside

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Above average sex drive. Nothing too demanding but enjoys the company of his partner multiple times throughout the week

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

While he isn't tired, he does enjoy cuddling with his partner after sex and falling asleep with them. He holds his partner tight and tells them sweet words before falling asleep

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat fanworks #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #kenshi takahashi #kenshi x reader

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justwritedreams · 9 months

Text

Sexual Fantasies | Chanyeol

Chanyeol x Reader, bffs to lovers au! Word count: 2752 Genre: smut Author: maari Warnings: Mentions of alchool, me bringing back Chanyeol's iconic purple hoodie because yes that's a warning, masturbation (f), some explicit words, kinda corruption kink MDI!! THIS IS A +18 STORY Note: OKAAAY SOOO i kind of wrote it in 3 hours because i really liked the idea and i can say i'm really proud of this one. YEAH BYE Request: a request for chanyeol we’re he thinks y/n is innocent and treats her like a little sister and one day he hears her masturbate and moaning his name ⫷ Exo Masterlist

"Beer for everyone." Chanyeol announced as he held the bottles out to Kai, Sehun and Kyungsoo.

Y/N smiled, stopping her conversation with Sehun who was sitting next to her, she reached out her hands to grab her bottle.

"And for you, miss." Chanyeol snatched the bottle away from Y/N's hands before she could touch it and handed her another one. "Cola."

Her smile faded instantly and the boys laughed at her surprised face.

"Are you serious?" She asked irritably and Chanyeol pursed his lips, nodding in agreement. She took the bottle reluctantly. "You forget that I'm only 4 years younger than you, right?"

"A baby, practically." Kai spoke, to piss her off even more.

"You should drink milk." Sehun joked, taking a sip of his beer.

Y/N glared at him.

"I'm not the one crying because nobody wished me a happy birthday." She replied and Kyungsoo laughed out loud, nearly spitting out his beer.

Kai and Chanyeol laughed too when they saw Sehun's face wither.

"You're not funny." He complained and she rolled her eyes, returning her attention to Chanyeol who sat on the other side of the couch.

"Why can't I drink with you guys?" she didn't want to look like a child but it was impossible not to pout.

"Because I still remember perfectly how you look when you drink." he replied and she snorted.

"It was only once."

"You wanted to throw yourself in the pool."

"It was hot!"

"You can't even swim."

"I was going to float anyway."

"Your dress was white!"

"The family quarrel will last for how long?" Kyungsoo asked sarcastically.

Y/N crossed her arms and glared at him.

She hated it when they treated her like she was a little sister. She was a friend, nothing more.

And yet, it seemed that no one took it seriously. Mainly Chanyeol.

"I hate it when you guys do that." she complained and saw Kyungsoo raise his eyebrows, slightly confused. "You treat me like I'm a child." she stared at Chanyeol who was stretching his arm on the sofa, looking at her curiously. "Mostly you!"

"That's because you're innocent, Y/N." Kai said and she looked at him instantly.

"What?!" she asked, partially shocked. Because the other part thought it was funny.

That's why she started laughing, that idea was absurd.

But seeing that they were quiet, indicated that it was serious.

When she looked at Chanyeol, he had guilt in his eyes.

She blinked a few times.

"Oh come on!"

"But that has to do with your personality, Y/N." Sehun argued. "You're always so quiet and shy."

"Remember when you accidentally fell into Baekhyun's lap? You ran to hide."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn at the memory of what had happened.

It was all Chanyeol's fault, really. She had bought a new dress, a little shorter than what she was used to wearing but she loved how it looked on her body, she got up from the sofa at Suho's house - it was his engagement party - and Chanyeol got up from where he was about to cover her exposed legs with a blanket.

However, she was annoyed that he wanted to cover her legs all the time so she tried to stop Chanyeol. It wasn't a very smart decision because he kept wrapping the blanket around her waist, it brought him closer and made her flinch every time he tried to cover her up. And that made her fall into Baekhyun's lap because she hadn't seen the boy sitting down.

"Do you need to remember this every day?" she questioned, trying not to show that she was still ashamed of that.

And the way Chanyeol was looking at her was making her even more shy.

"Admit it, Y/N, you're innocent." Sehun shrugged and she stared at him, challenged.

"You guys really don't know me."

[...]

Y/N opened the door and heard hurried footsteps running towards her, trying to balance the purchases in her hands felt something jump on her leg, she smiled before she even looked.

And then barking echoed through the room.

"Hey Zzar, calm down girl!" she laughed and closed the door with one leg. "I hope you didn't wreck your father's house."

Y/N looked around and apparently everything was intact, this made her sigh and go to the kitchen, leaving her groceries on top of the counter. After she bent down to pick the dog up, Zzar gladly accepted and started licking Y/N's face, who just laughed.

"I know, I missed you too." She hugged the dog's body. "Let's make up for lost time, your father will take time."

Chanyeol had taken Toben to the vet to get some tests done as the dog seemed quieter than usual, which was really weird considering it was only calm when Y/N was around, but Chanyeol was worried since Toben wasn't eating right too.

And since Chanyeol couldn't take care of Zzar and Toben at the same time, he had asked for help from the only person he trusted. Y/N.

She already had the keys to his house, she was social enough for Zzar not to strange her presence, she was free to cook and even take a shower at Chanyeol's house.

And it wasn't like she could deny his request.

She could never resist his wide smile.

Even if it meant leaving work, tired, and heading straight to his place after stopping by the market.

Y/N took the opportunity to cook something and while leaving it on the stove, she put food for Zzar.

After eating and washing the dishes she had messed up, Y/N turned off the lights and went straight to Chanyeol's room and threw herself on the huge comfortable bed.

She laughed when she saw that Zzar tried to do the same thing as her, but without success. Y/N was about to pick the dog up and put it on the bed when her phone vibrated.

She looked up quickly, seeing that Chanyeol had sent her an audio message.

'I'm waiting for the doctor to call, he's going to talk to me about the x-ray.' Chanyeol grunted from the other side and Y/N swallowed hard, the tired and husky tone was a little too much for her. 'Thanks again for taking care of Zzar, I hope I'll be back home soon.'

Y/N took a deep breath before answering, saying that she would always be there when he needed her and that everything would work out.

She blocked the phone screen and left it next to her body while looking at the ceiling.

She knew he wasn't only tired but worried, and so was she. Both with Toben and Chanyeol.

However… Chanyeol's voice sent shivers through Y/N's body that she didn't even know was possible.

All she wanted was to be able to be by his side, hugging him tight, feeling his strong arms wrap around her tightly.

Y/N ran her hands over her face and took a deep breath again, that crush she had on her friend was pathetic and longstanding.

But there was no stopping it, he had everything she was looking for in a man and more.

In fact, Chanyeol had set the bar too high for any guy to reach. And the fact that Y/N couldn't find anyone who could come close to what Chanyeol was… was frustrating.

Y/N looked at Zzar who was lying beside the bed and staring at Y/N.

"Your dad is a idiot, you know that?" Zzar cocked the head to the side, seeming even interested in what Y/N was saying. "If he knew what his voice does to my legs, he would never speak around me again." Zzar continued to stare at Y/N. "And the worst thing is, he can't even imagine the influence he has on me. I'm a fool, right?" Zzar raised the hind legs and wagged its tail. "Of course I am, I'm pouring my heart out to a dog."

Y/N sighed, her whole body feeling tired but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until Chanyeol arrived.

However, being stubborn, she even tried to take a nap, but she turned from side to side, even with her eyes closed, sleep didn't come.

And honestly, that outfit was bothering her. Lying down in jeans and a blouse with pearl details was hurting her, that's why she decided to strip down to her underwear and got out of bed, going to Chanyeol's wardrobe to put on one of his sweatshirts.

She touched his clothes, his perfume was impregnated in everything there, and she laughed softly when she found the famous purple sweatshirt.

It had been so long since she had seen him wear that sweatshirt, she smiled mischievously and put it on right away.

Of course, it was twice her size but it could still read the red 'Sexual fantasies' lettering.

She thought he'd thrown that sweatshirt away, but it was tucked away in the back of his wardrobe.

Y/N took the opportunity to go to the bathroom and Zzar followed after going on its way to who knows where, Y/N laughed at the thought that the dog had also gone to do her business.

After washing her hands, Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror and laughed as she remembered Sehun's words from the other day.

"Admit it, you're innocent."

Imagine what he and the guys would think to see her wearing that sweatshirt.

Like a click, a rather evil idea flashed through Y/N's head and her eyes widened as she realized what she had been thinking.

Okay, she wasn't that innocent but she wasn't a pervert either.

She left the bathroom, shaking her head as if to dismiss that thought and went back to the bedroom, expecting Zzar's company but the dog wasn't there.

Y/N threw herself on the bed again and looked back at the bedroom ceiling, trying to control her breathing but the idea wouldn't leave her head.

She didn't need to touch herself then and there just to prove to herself that she wasn't as pure as others thought she was.

But on the other hand, no one would ever know. Wearing Chanyeol's sweatshirt in his bed would be like committing a crime.

Maybe not that serious.

But it was dangerous. That's why it was so tempting.

Y/N's breathing started to get heavier as her head convinced her that this was going to be a secret that no one would ever suspect, she brought her thumbnail to her mouth as she pondered practically giving in to temptation.

And she only needed one thing to convince herself, remembering Chanyeol's audio.

His growl had activated something in her, her most intimate and secret fantasies. The most sexual.

Her heart was pounding and she kept her eyes closed as she imagined Chanyeol growling like that in her ear, and then kissing every inch of her neck while his firm and large hands touched her body shamelessly.

How sweet the low moans he would let out, and the dirty words he would speak so close to her ear.

Just imagining it, she shivered all over, her body temperature rose and she felt a certain discomfort in her lower abdomen as well as a fire that rose from her legs to the middle of them.

Y/N took her hand to her panties but figured it was Chanyeol's fingers slowly teasing her.

Now, she needed to finish what she started and she had enough imagination for that.

She was too lost in her own fantasy to hear the front door close, Chanyeol arrived with Toben on his lap.

The poor dog was doped with medicine that would help with the stomach problem it was having, at least he was sure that the little animal was getting better. Chanyeol hated seeing Toben so quiet, it was even weird.

Chanyeol looked for Y/N with his eyes but he didn't find her there so he took the opportunity to take Toben to its bed, after petting the pet's fur, he started looking for Y/N around the house.

She wasn't in the kitchen, he found Zzar sleeping next to the couch but Y/N wasn't there so he just thought she was in his room.

And he wasn't going to complain because he knew how much she liked his bed, and he wasn't planning on going there either because he wanted to curl up on the couch and go to sleep.

However, he didn't even sit on the sofa because he heard a muffled groan. Frowning, he stayed silent to make sure he wasn't delusional and he was sure when he heard it again coming from his room.

Curious, he made his way towards the bedroom in slow, silent steps. Was Y/N having nightmares or…

"Chanyeol." He stopped where he was when he heard the moan now louder and it had nothing to do with dreams, he knew that moan well but not coming from Y/N. That was why his eyes were wide. "Please, faster."

He felt the blood rush through his veins and pool in two places: his ears, which should have been red, and well…his cock.

The sound was low but still erotic. Something he never thought he'd hear from Y/N, it was so sensual that even going against his morals his feet carried him towards the bedroom door.

He swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists when he had the privileged view of Y/N lying on his bed, with her panties pushed to the side while her fingers entered and left her quickly.

He smirked when he saw that she was wearing his purple sweatshirt.

Naughty, was all he thought.

Chanyeol wasn't even breathing, he wanted to be able to capture every sound Y/N made, be it the pained moans that came out of her mouth or the sound of her fingers desperately touching her intimacy.

"Chanyeol, I wanna cum. Please."

Heavens, he could never have imagined her saying that, but now that he had heard it, he felt every part of his body become electrified.

Y/N panted and arched as her fingers circled her clit, eyes closed as the most pornographic sounds came out he was sure she was close.

Chanyeol felt his pants get tighter and tighter as he got excited to see the scene.

"Fuck, more. Oh my God." and then he saw her squirm and her mouth open in a perfect O as a loud, drawn-out moan echoed through the house. As she moaned his name.

He felt every hair on his body stand on end and it took a lot of self-control not to bring his hand to the erection that was now apparent.

Y/N took a deep breath as spasms followed the orgasm, and Chanyeol felt his mouth water at the sight of her pussy all wet and shiny as Y/N removed her fingers to adjust her panties back into place.

He would have laughed at Y/N's shocked face when she turned her head and saw him standing in the open doorway, if he wasn't completely aroused and ready to do something crazy.

Y/N's mouth opened a few times but no sound came out, it didn't even sound like she was the one moaning seconds ago, and she blinked more than usual. She was speechless.

That's why he took the opportunity to enter the room, being watched by her, and go to the bed, kneeling on the mattress without taking his eyes off her.

Y/N felt her eyes flicker as Chanyeol bent down so that his face was closer to hers, both of their breaths were panting and Y/N didn't even move.

"You're a very bad girl, you know that?" he whispered, bringing a hand to her thigh and Y/N sighed. "And do you know what happens to bad girls?" she shook her head and Chanyeol lightly slapped her skin, making her moan in surprise. "They are punished."

"Please." she asked and he ran his hand over her sodden panties up to the sweatshirt she was wearing.

"Pretty conducive, don't you think?" he referred to the phrase and she bit her bottom lip.

"I was hoping it wasn't just fantasy." She replied quietly and Chanyeol brought his face more close to hers, their noses touching.

"Don't worry, tonight won't be."

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