stellaristar

[stellaristar]

Bite Down On It

✦ One-Shot

Reader x Ino Takuma | 18+ MDNI

cw: fluff, smut, protected sex, praise, soft dom!Ino, reader teasing him, slightly nervous!Ino, body worship, aftercare, emotionally loaded first time, mutual yearning, slow undressing, kissing, hand holding, gentle possessiveness

⸻

You knew he liked you.

Ino Takuma wasn’t subtle. Not in the way he always stood a little too close, or how he remembered your favorite drink order, or how he blushed every time you said his name a little too softly.

He never said it out loud, of course. Never pushed. That wasn’t his style. He was the kind of man who’d protect your life with his own before even daring to ask you out for a drink. Always second-guessing whether he was good enough.

So tonight—you made the first move.

He’s still in his mission gear, hair slightly messy, gloves shoved in his back pocket. The sun’s gone down, casting golden light across his cheekbones, and he’s looking at you like you’ve just knocked the air out of his lungs.

“You want me to stay?” he asks, voice low, unsure. “Like, for the night?”

You smile, heart fluttering. “Only if you want to.”

He swallows. You can see him trying not to smile too big. “Yeah. I… yeah, I’d like that.”

It’s not rushed.

He kisses you slowly the first time, with hesitant hands and a breath held in his throat like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you pull him onto the bed with you, his entire body tenses like he can’t believe he’s allowed.

“You sure?” he asks again, kneeling between your thighs. His eyes are soft, worried. “I don’t wanna screw this up.”

“You won’t,” you whisper, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. “I want you.”

And god, the sound he makes — it’s somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, forehead resting on yours as his hands roam down your sides like he’s memorizing every inch.

“You’re so…” He shakes his head, blushing. “I dunno. I’ve wanted this forever.”

He undresses you slow, kissing every new inch of skin he reveals. You do the same, tugging his shirt off to feel the lines of his back, the strength of him, all that steady, beautiful control he’s usually so modest about.

“I’m not really—uh, flashy,” he mutters, cheeks pink as he climbs over you. “But I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You kiss his shoulder, nails sliding up his chest.

“You already do.”

When he slides inside you, it’s slow, careful—like he’s scared to hurt you, or wake up from a dream. His hands tremble where they cup your hips, breath stuttering against your neck.

“Shit, you feel good,” he groans, voice rougher now, “so warm—fuck, I… I’m not gonna last long if you keep looking at me like that.”

“You’re doing perfect,” you whisper, and that’s what undoes him.

Ino rocks into you like he means it—holding your hand, kissing your forehead, groaning softly every time you gasp. It’s not rough. It’s close. His whole body is pressed against yours, chest to chest, as he whispers your name like a prayer.

“I’ve never…” His voice breaks as he kisses you hard. “Not like this. It’s never been like this.”

You’re clinging to him now, thighs wrapped tight around his waist, panting into his mouth as your body trembles.

“Takuma—please—”

“I got you,” he whispers, and when you fall apart under him, he holds you so gently it makes your chest ache.

He follows right after, whispering your name, forehead pressed to your shoulder as his hips finally still. His arms wrap around you like he doesn’t want to let go.

Later, as you curl up in his hoodie and tuck yourself into his arms, you feel him kiss the top of your head.

“You’re gonna make me believe I actually deserve this,” he mumbles.

You press your palm to his chest. “You always have.”

He smiles into your hair.

And this time, he lets himself believe it.

The smell of eggs woke you up.

That, and the fact that the other side of the bed was empty—but still warm. You stretched, smiling, limbs sore in the best way. The hoodie he lent you hung off one shoulder, barely covering the marks he left on your thighs last night.

The sound of a frying pan sizzle made you peek around the corner.

There he was.

Ino Takuma. Shirtless. In your kitchen.

Hair messy, sweatpants slung dangerously low, standing at the stove like a nervous boyfriend trying to impress you. Which, to be fair—he was.

And it was painfully obvious he was still trying to play it cool.

You leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, voice soft and wicked. “You cook too? God, is there anything you don’t do?”

He jumped, almost dropping the spatula. “I—I didn’t wanna wake you, sorry—! I figured you might be hungry, so I—uh—just, scrambled a couple—” He turned around, and promptly stopped talking.

Because you were still in nothing but his hoodie. No pants. Just bare thighs and bedhead and a sleepy smirk that had his eyes dropping fast—and staying there.

“Takuma,” you teased sweetly. “Are you blushing again?”

“Damn. I’m not—!” He groaned softly, head falling back as he put a hand over his face. “God, don’t look at me like that. I’m—I’m trying to cook for you, dammit.”

You walked over slowly, barefoot, until you were behind him, arms sneaking around his bare waist.

“Why are you so cute when you’re flustered?” you whispered into his shoulder blade. “You looked so confident last night—now you’re all shy and domestic. You’re killing me.”

“You’re killing me,” he muttered, trying not to look down as you slid a hand over his stomach. “I can’t focus when you touch me like that.”

Your hand dipped lower. “Like this?” you asked innocently.

He whimpered. Actually whimpered.

“Baby—” he breathed, “I’m already so hard, please—fuck, you can’t just… tease me like that.”

You turned him around, and he let you—melting into your hands, kissing you with that same desperation from last night. But softer now. Hungrier.

“You’re really down bad for me, huh?” you teased.

He nodded into your neck. “I am. I seriously am. I’d do anything you ask.”

And you believed him. You dropped to your knees.

But he stopped you. Gently pulled you back up, eyes wide and flushed.

“No—no, let me,” he murmured. “Please—I want to make you feel good. Let me take care of you.”

You kissed him, slow and messy, until he was moaning into your mouth. He lifted you onto the kitchen counter like you weighed nothing, hands reverent, and dropped to his knees like it was his mission.

He didn’t just eat you out—he worshipped you.

Palms holding your thighs apart, tongue sliding deep, moaning against you like he was drunk on your taste. He looked up the whole time—eyes dark and starry, silently begging for praise.

When you came—he held on tight. Kissing your hip. Whispering your name like you were the only thing that had ever mattered.

Afterward, he curled up next to you on the couch with your legs across his lap, face buried in your neck.

“I like this,” he mumbled. “Waking up with you. Making you breakfast. Touching you like you belong to me.”

You turned your head and smiled. He pulled you tighter.

And that soft little whimper he made? Might’ve been better than the eggs.

You disappeared to the bathroom just for a second.

Ino Takuma was still on the couch, hair a mess, sweatpants still tented from earlier, eyes half-lidded from kissing your thighs until you came in his mouth like he needed it to breathe.

He thought maybe he’d get a moment to recover.

He was wrong.

Because when you came back—you were still only in his hoodie and those thin black panties. Legs bare. Hips swaying. Looking at him like he was the one being hunted now.

“Hey,” he said, voice scratchy. He tried not to look at your thighs. Failed immediately. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer.

You just stepped between his legs and gently pushed them open. He froze—eyes wide, chest rising fast—watching you crawl up onto the couch and straddle the space between his thighs.

He swallowed hard. “W-What’re you doing…?”

You tilted your head sweetly. “You’re still hard, aren’t you?”

He groaned, covering his face with both hands. “God, please don’t say stuff like that while looking like that—I’ll fucking die—”

You pulled his hands away from his face, lacing your fingers through his instead. He let you.

“I thought you wanted me,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his jaw. “Or are you too shy to let me take care of you?”

His breath hitched. “I want you. So bad. I just… I might cry if you touch me again.”

You smiled. “That’s okay.”

And then you kissed him, slow and deep, hands sliding down his stomach until you tugged his waistband low enough to free him.

He was already leaking—flushed, sensitive, twitching against your palm.

You sat back a little on your knees, still between his spread thighs, teasing the head of his cock with your thumb.

“Baby,” you said softly, “you’re soaked.”

“I can’t help it,” he whimpered, head tipping back, thighs trembling as you wrapped your hand around him. “You’re too pretty—too close—fuck, I’m not gonna last—”

You stroked him slowly. Barely squeezing. Just enough pressure to keep him right there in that sweet, desperate place.

“You’re so easy to ruin,” you teased. “All it takes is me in your hoodie and you’re falling apart.”

“I am falling apart,” he gasped, one hand flying to grip your thigh. “You don’t get it—I’ve never wanted someone like this. Never. I dreamt about you for months.”

You leaned in and kissed him again, faster this time, as your hand moved with a little more purpose. He moaned into your mouth, hips stuttering up into your palm.

“You’re gonna come just from my hand, aren’t you?” you whispered against his lips.

He nodded frantically, eyes already glassy.

“Let me see it,” you murmured. “Let me see how much you need me.”

And then he did—he spilled hard into your hand with a soft, broken cry, hips jerking up, forehead pressed to your shoulder as his whole body trembled through it. It was messy, hot, real—his cum painting your fingers and his stomach, dripping over your knuckles as he whined your name into your skin.

When he was done, he didn’t let go of you. He just buried his face into your neck, arms wrapped around your waist like you were the only thing holding him together.

You kissed the top of his head.

“You are perfect.”

໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১ hope you like it!!

be sure to check out my other stuff too <3

[stellaristar]

Quick! Go Hide

in which you prank the sleeping jjk men by telling them, 'You need to hide; my boyfriend's home!'...saw it on tiktok heh

Satoru croaks, “Oh, shit. He is?” 

Groggily, he clambers out of bed and hides in the bathroom, bare feet padding. In the dark, he waits. Seconds pass and he shows no sign of realising what games you’re playing. When you go to collect him, you find him asleep, standing with his forehead pressed to the cold tile, drooling. 

“Is he gone?” He asks, voice raspy, shaken awake once again. You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “Good ‘cause I’m too tired to fight anyone…I’d win though.” 

Soon after, in bed, he continues sleeping. And it’s only in the morning that you find him grinning and prodding your puffy cheek. “That was really funny, babe. Ten out of ten. No notes.”

Suguru's brows furrow. Without opening his eyes, he mutters, “Nice try.”

“No, really. You gotta go; he’ll kill you.” A curse emerges, large and foreboding, just watching in the corner of the room. Shivers wrack your body. It doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, nor utter a single sound. Still, the message is clear. You roll your eyes and cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “You’re no fun.”

He tucks you in close. “Try again in the morning, pretty girl. I’m sure I’ll be more fun when I’m not half asleep.”

Choso startles awake, bloodshot eyes widening. “Oh no. What should we do?”

He lets you shove him into the closet, shirtless and hair a mess. There he stands patiently, shuffling on his feet and holding his breath. Then, when a minute passes, he has a moment of realisation. Creaking open, the closet door widens to reveal him – he looks unimpressed…and pouty. 

“I’m your only boyfriend; why do I need to hide?”

You giggle. “Sorry, Cho. It was just a joke.’

“I don’t really see what’s funny,” he grouches as he gets back into bed with you, wrapping his arms tight around your body and tucking his head in the crook of your neck, quickly forgetting your prank once his senses are overwhelmed with you. 

Toji peeks one eye at your faux panicked face. He shoves it away, grumbling under his breath about how much of a brat you are and shifts into a different position; he’s got his back turned to you now. Undeterred, you shake him one more time. “I’m being serious. You gotta hide, Toji.”

“Leave me alone, woman. I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now.”

You drape your entire body over his. His beefy arm comes around to keep you steady, in case you fall off the bed with your clumsy ass. “Okay, but if he beats you up and takes me away, your loss.”

He grunts. “I’d like to see anyone try.”

Then, to keep your mouth from disturbing his sleep any longer, he suffocates your face in between his pecs, a hand on your ass, groping it for compensation.

Kento jolts, hands grabbing you to push your body behind his. He scans the room, then the door, waits for the intruder, ready to defend. Only when he hears your stifled laughter does he truly process what you told him. He sighs, hand rubbing down his face. “Can’t sleep again, darling?”

“No. The baby keeps kicking me.” You smile when his warm palm caresses your stomach. 

Leaving a kiss on your forehead, he mutters, “I’ll give them a stern talking to; no child of mine hurts my wife. Now, would you like a midnight snack or should we stay up and watch the stars again?”

Lifted out of bed, he carries you in his arms, intent on keeping your bare feet from touching the cold floor. Even as sleep still courses through his veins, he’s determined to meet your every need – Kento couldn’t fall asleep again knowing you’re wide awake anyway. 

Sukuna doesn’t awaken. He’s as still as a corpse. You try again. And again. Nothing. When you pout and smack his chest, one of his four arms snatches your waist and slides you onto his huge body. Your ass is being patted, as is your head, and with another arm, he rubs your back. 

Calmly, his chest rumbles with his words. “All your previous partners are dead. No one will disturb us. Sleep.”

“Okay, Kuna…wait…no, they aren’t.”

He doesn’t reply, leaving you to wonder when he had the time to hunt them down one by one since he spends so much time never leaving your side in the first place. No answer comes to mind; his body can be so persuasive in pulling you to the land of slumber with him. Though, you are certain he whispers, ‘They will be,’ once he thinks you won’t hear. Try and follow up the next day however and he’ll shrug off your concerns with a, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

Monster milk mountain mammaries

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

Who’s gonna play with me? 🥹🩷

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

[stellaristar]

Wiggle 🤭