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vulcanhello · 2 years

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DISCOVERY SEASON TWO THOUGHTS!!

i’m gonna try and hit the major season wide stuff and then the finale bc HOLY SHIT. it was good

overall i think this season was a lot better than the first, mostly because of my personal interest in these kinds of stories. time travel, time loops, that singular moment of understanding always always hits me. that, and the strong visuals in relation to the red angel and the time travel were sooooo good to me it’s a ten course meal for my brain.

some stuff i liked this season was more interactions with the bridge crew- although i think it could have been better, with them in the future for season three i think it’ll be really good based on the foundations of season two. i especially liked that scene with airiam going over her memories with the other officers so more of that would be good

i also liked the background aliens! the lizard guy, the guy with the huge head, po, and that one lady on the enterprise were super cool!

also i think michael is great. she’s the best character of all time really. her relationships with saru and ash and tilly were so so good and i wished we had more time with them. and spock! i think if you’re gonna add spock to a show it’s necessey to make him the annoying little brother he truly is. the most badass thing discovery did was bring aboard the world’s most beloved little alien and make sure we all knew he would never be as cool as his older sister. absolutely amazing. fr tho i thought their relationship was really well done and their last conversation absolutely has my heart. they mean everything to me

some things i wasn’t liking as much was having pike be the captain. i don’t really think it was necessary to the show honestly. i don’t think michael needed to be captain but saru would have done just fine- them not being able to pick up a new captain would have forced him into the chair and i think that would have been more interesting than a lot of pike’s scenes. i think pike’s cool and all but he took up a lot of time i wasn’t interested in personally. also, airiam’s death made sense for the story, but they really should have built on her character throughout the season, not just in the 30 minutes before her death. i’m also glad the klingons took a backseat, but i will be honest i was excited to see them in the final battle. speaking of final battles…

i think final battles are lame, and not exciting, and visually it looks like cgi vomit. HOWEVER. because the finale ALSO gave me the most beautiful heartstopping spectacular stunning amazing scene of all time during it i am forced to excuse it. michael using the red angel suit really was awesome.

i think i just really really liked it. and while i hope there’s a lot more effort put into the characters interpersonal relationships next season, i think this one makes for a solid foundation for that. maybe lower the stakes and have a bit of fun! i think we need a wacky episode. something silly. they need a break! michael needs a break to hang out with her friends and worry about nothing more than a minor tribble infestation or something. fingers crossed for season three 🤞

#im trying not to make the mother of all long posts so im adding stuff in the tags #minor stuff really. for example i must comment that i wish they had more time for gabrielle burnham. she was wicked wicked cool and i hope #we see her again next season #i’m also glad we got to see culber and stamets work it out! i’m goad culber punched ash in the face i’m glad he’s going to figure out how to #move forward WITH paul rather than by himself’#i also also want more from the discoverys main doctor- she had a real funny line in the finale and i think we need more of her #also! phillipa laughing as lelandcontrol died was so funny i love michelle yeoh #and her and nhan beating him up was good. i hope they team up more #hmmm what else what else #basically. i look forward to season three #no pike so we get to see more of ppl like owo and detmer and maybe michael will be captain now?#with some lower stakes and maybe a fun episode or two for character relationship stuff would be great #okokok i’m done #i love michael tho #she’s so cool she’s learning to be vulnerable she’s learning to trust her friends she #she #she’s everythint and more to me #did i mention she’s cool? she is #when she started zapping thru time i was hollering MICHAELLLLL WOWWWWW MICHAELL #okokok im done #captain’s log #dsc

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garoujo · 7 months

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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !

“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.

“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”

he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.

“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.

“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.

“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.

you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.

his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”

you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.

“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.

you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.

you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.

“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“

“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.

“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”

“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.

“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.

“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”

gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.

you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.

“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.

you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.

“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you

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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader)

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves.

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur.

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches.

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen.

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste.

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it.

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break.

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him.

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids.

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard.

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse.

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed.

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold.

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand.

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh.

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet.

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off.

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock.

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires.

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too.

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though.

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghoap x you

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actuallysaiyan · 1 year

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I'll Do Anything(JJK virginity loss headcanons)

warnings: virginity loss, unprotected sex, use of condoms(Nanami), mentions of cunnilingus/fem!oral sex, dub con(Sukuna), forced sex(Sukuna), dark themes(Sukuna) word count: 1.7k pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader, Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader, Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader, Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader a/n: I'm so close to finishing up season one of JJK, so I just had to write more content! I hope you all enjoy!! Smut under the cut!

“Pretty baby,” he coos softly as he slots himself between your thighs. “You sure you’re ready? I’m really big.”

You can barely make out what he’s saying. He’s been between your thighs for what seemed like hours. You knew it was to make you more comfortable with losing your virginity to him, but part of you wonders if he takes pleasure in lapping at your cunt.

“Sweetie, I need your consent.” Gojo reminds you, and you lick your lips. You look up at him, and those gorgeous eyes of his just pull you into a trance.

“Ready for you, Gojo. ‘Promise ‘m ready for you,”

He smiles, “That’s my good girl.”

Slowly, he lets his cockhead prod your tight hole. You’re just dripping all over his swollen, red cockhead. It excites him to no end that you’re going to let him be your first. In his mind, there’s no bigger stroke to his ego to have you cumming on his cock and knowing pleasure simply from him taking your virginity.

As he pushes more of himself into you, you swear you can feel your muscles beginning to give out. It’s all too much for you. Your eyes screw shut as the thick cock slides into you inch by inch. You’re panting as it reaches further into you. You didn’t know it would be this good.

“Oh, baby,” Gojo says, his tone teasing. “You really are taking my cock so well.”

The words, you swear you hear them, but your brain is already so mush from all this lust that you aren’t sure he’s speaking the same language as you. It doesn’t take much for him to push the rest of his cock into you, and the moment it brushes against your cervix, you shudder.

“Gojo, I—” you whine. Your walls are contracting around him, making him grunt.

Your whole body shudders and shakes as you feel all this pleasure come over you. You’ve never experienced an orgasm quite like this. It’s so much better than touching yourself or trying to make yourself cum with a vibrator. White hot pleasure is just coursing through you, making you whine and whimper.

Once you’ve come down from your high, you look up at him. He blinks; those beautiful orbs so full of wonder but you can see mischief in this look as well.

“Huh,” Gojo ponders aloud. “You just came, didn’t you?”

Your cheeks burn, “Gojo…”

He leans in to kiss you, “No need to be embarrassed. There’s more to come, sweetheart.”

He thinks you look so beautiful like this, all sprawled out on the bed. But there’s this part of him that just wants to tease you for being so fucked out already. He hasn’t even entered you, and you’re moaning just like a bitch in heat. It’s honestly one of the most flattering things to him, and yet he’s trying not to let it get to his head too much.

“Such a naughty baby,” He murmurs as he presses sloppy kisses up your body.

His lips capture yours as he slots himself between your thighs. You don’t even have much time to react before he’s pushing his thick cock into you. Tears sting your eyes at the sensation of being stretched out like this. You push on his stomach, pleading for him to take it a little slower than he is.

“Come on,” he goads. “You can take it,”

You’re panting now, and the pleasure mixes in with the pain of being stretched out like this. You want to look down to make sure he’s not actually splitting you in half with his cock. But his forefinger and thumb capture your chin to make you look into his eyes. If he could have this moment ingrained in his memory forever, he would choose to do so. You look so precious to be losing your virginity just like this. It’s exactly how Geto wanted it.

“You can take it all, baby. I know you can.”

You whimper as he pushes even deeper into you. Your eyes cross as the pleasure keeps building inside of you. Your walls are clamping down against his cock, making him grunt at the sensation of your virgin pussy trying to milk him for all he’s got. He knows he wants this to last, but he wasn’t counting on it feeling this good.

“Look at you,” Geto chuckles darkly. “You’re a natural slut,”

You whine, “Please,”

He laughs again, loving the effect this has on you. Who would've thought all he needed to tame your brattiness was just some cock? You were clearly so pent up, and now all he had to do was fuck you until you’re brattiness just disappeared.

“Please what?” He asks, his tone mocking.

“More, please.”

And with those words, Geto positions himself on his knees for a little more stability. With his hands on your hips, he begins pounding you into the mattress.

He can’t help but feel enamored by the sweet sight of you on his bed like this. He can’t remember the last time he felt this aroused. When you asked him to be your first, he was touched. Nanami knew he had to make this a moment that you’ll never forget.

And he prepared for the night too. He took you out on a romantic date, bought some condoms and lube, and he made his bed extra comfortable for the two of you. By the time he has you back to his apartment, you’re already feeling pretty affectionate for the man. He was just so special to you, and you knew he’d treat you right.

You look up at him, smiling that sweet smile of yours. Everything that you do in this moment, it goes straight to his cock. Nanami reaches down to adjust himself in his underwear, then he turns his attention back to you.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks, reaching over to the bedside table for the box of condoms. You smile sweetly again. “Yeah, I’m ready,”

He leans in to kiss you, and your tongues rub together sensually. You’ve never been more sure of something in your life than this. You’ve been in love with Nanami for so long, so when you were ready to lose your virginity, you knew it would have to be him you’d want to lose it to.

He undresses himself completely, and he spreads your thighs. As much as he wants to go in raw, he knows it’s not responsible. So he takes one of the foil packets from the box and tears it open. His eyes inspect the condom, and once he deems it acceptable, he begins rolling it onto his leaking cock.

You can’t tear your eyes away from this scene. He looks so good doing something as simple as putting a condom on his cock. It’s just the idea that the lewd act is coming. He grabs the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table and he smears a little of it onto the already lubed up condom. The rest of the lube goes onto your vulva, and he spreads it all over your tight hole and your swollen clit.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Nanami says before pressing the tip of his cock to your hole.

A gasp falls from your lips as he begins pushing into you. It feels so good to be full like this. His eyes are scanning your features for any signs of pain, but you look so full of love right now. It really warms his heart.

“Please, don’t stop.” You whine, which earns you a sweet chuckle from Nanami. “I wasn’t planning on it,”

As soon as his cock is inside of you fully, Nanami knows that he can start thrusting slowly. He sees the love in your eyes, and he knows he made the right choice in being your first.

Sukuna absolutely loves being able to fuck virgins. But there is something extremely special about you. He’s not even sure what it is, but you’re just so adorable and sweet. He usually thinks himself better than to fall into this kind of affection, but the way you keep clinging to him makes him a little dizzy with lust.

“Oh, you are just asking for it,” Sukuna comments, and his fingers go down to your pussy once more.

You’ve been sitting on his lap for what feels like forever now, and he’s been so eager to just let you have all this pleasure. Whether it be with mouths or with his fingers, he’s happily had you cumming for hours now. You’ve made such a stain on his pants, and the smell of you is just permeating the air. You’re barely coherent now, but you want to hang on. You want more than just cumming on his fingers or on his tongues.

“You want my cock now, don’t you?” He asks, though he knows you don’t have much choice in the matter. You’ll be taking his cock whether you like it or not.

But you nod so obediently, “Yes yes yes, please!”

A delirious laughter rumbles through him. You remind him of the reason he loves virgins so much. They become so caught up in all the pleasure that they forget that they have to give away a part of themselves to him.

“That’s a good girl,” his voice is thick with a mocking tone. “I knew you’d want it.”

With one of his hands, he holds you up. The other hand begins undoing his pants quickly. He wants to be buried deep inside of you as soon as he can. His cock slaps against his abdomen as soon as he’s got it freed from the confines of his pants. You barely have time to react as he sinks you down onto the immense girth.

You scream his name as the sensations of his cock splitting you in two hit you. It’s all so intense at once. Sukuna smirks as he watches you squirm and wiggle, almost trying to get off of his cock. But he keeps his hands on your hips, practically locking you onto him. Before you know it, he’s bouncing you up and down on his thick girth.

“Ganbare, ganbare,” Sukuna teases. His thumb wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re doing so good for me, heheheheheh…”

He throws his head back as the pleasure of your virgin cunt overwhelms him. He’ll gladly keep you right on his cock for eternity if he chooses to do so.

#bacon.writes #jjk fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x fem!reader #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x fem!reader #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x fem!reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x fem!reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #nanami smut #sukuna smut

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

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pillow princess

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only, male receiving oral, riding, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rafe calls reader kiddo/kid

“rafey.” you whine, stepping into all the chairs circled around, filled with topper, kelce and some other guys you recognize as rafes friends.

“what is it baby?” he questions, giving you his full attention despite all the boys sitting around. he doesn’t care that they see him being affectionate with you. its not like his manliness is in question.

“i miss you.” you complain. you were bored sitting upstairs in your bed all alone. you knew it was boys night. first they watched a game, then sat around and talked and drank, but you wanted your boyfriend, feeling extra clingy today.

“aww, come here kiddo.” rafe leans back, opening up his arms, letting you slot yourself onto his knee. you immediately lean your head against his shoulder, snuggling your body into his.

rafe holds you tight to him, fingers drumming against your thigh as the conversation immediately starts up again. you only pay half attention to it, most being about the game they just watched, or their max bench, whatever boy stuff they usually spend the time chatting about.

your ears perk up when the conversation changes to girlfriend and sex. “man, my girl rides me like a fucking jackrabbit.” one guy laughs, making your nose scrunch up.

the rest chime in, except for rafe. you're not sure if it's just because you're there or if he prefers to keep your sex life private.

“alright, boys.” rafe says. “better get going, my lady clearly needs me.”

you smile and blush, cheeks flaring. you bury your head in rafes shoulder as he says his goodbyes, his friends filling out the door. rafe makes sure it closes behind them before scooping you up, holding you in his arms, not even questioning if you want to be carried upstairs.

“rafe?” you hum as he sets you down on his bed. “you know i would ride you if you wanted it, right?”

rafe lets out a sudden laugh, confused by your question. “what brought this on baby?”

“just the guys… talking about their girlfriends riding them. i never do that for you.” you shrug.

rafe shakes his head. “i don't mind that you’re a pillow princess.”

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. “i am not a pillow princess!”

rafe chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you are, but its okay. i like being on top.”

“but-but-” you stammer. “i’m not!” “okay, wanna prove it?” rafe questions, a smirk still playing on his lips, knowing exactly what he's goading you into doing.

“take your clothes off.” you challenge back.

rafe tugs his shirt over his head before pulling at his pants. he undresses quickly, watching as you stand up off the bed to take your tanktop and shorts off.

rafe climbs onto the bed once he’s stripped, leaning against the headboard with a lazy smile on his face. you blink at his dick, still mostly soft, resting against his thigh. usually rafe will eat you out or finger you and by the time you’re ready to fuck, he’s already hard.

“come on, show you’re not a pillow princess. get me hard.” rafe beckons you over.

you finish taking off your underwear before climbing onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. you reach for his cock, taking it in your hand, starting to stroke it as you watch with fascination as he hardens right under your fingertips.

“gonna suck me off too?” rafe questions.

“maybe.” you hum. you bend down, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, suckingling as your hand continues to stroke most of his length.

you work him until he’s completely hard before letting your mouth sink lower, taking as much as you comfortably can before setting a pace of moving back to just have the tip in your mouth to taking him fully.

“such a good girl.” rafe coos, placing a hand on the back of your head, but he doesn’t force you down, doesn’t help your movements. he lets you take control like you swore you could do.

you reach down between your legs as you suck him off. you’re a little wet, but it’s nothing like when rafe fingers you before sex, so you rub your clit as you flick your tongue over his length, his moans reaching your ears.

you pull off of his cock with a pop, already feeling tired of being in control. you wish rafe would have pushed himself down your throat, showed you just how he liked it, but he just watches you as you climb onto his lap.

you stroke his cock a few more times as you position yourself properly, hovering your cunt over his dick before slowly sinking down, letting out a moan as he fills you up, stretching slightly more than usual without as much prep.

“it feels different from this angle.” you admit, looking shyly down as you sit on rafes fat cock. you feel it twitch inside you, and you know he’s desperate for you to move from the strained look on his face.

you begin to bounce, placing your hands on his chest. you wish he would grab your waist or your ass, helping you move on his length, but he leaves it up to you as you grind your cunt down.

you already feel your legs beginning to get sore, your muscles not used to this type of motion as you already begin to slow down, ashamed at how fast you are ready to give up, so you try to power through, but to no avail.

“fine.” you give up. “i’m a pillow princess.”

rafe flips you over suddenly, pressing your back into the mattress. “i told you so. should have just listened to me, kid.”

you whine as you wrap your legs around his waist as rafe begins to thrust. “i just like this better.” you don’t want to admit that you got exhausted after a minute of writing, and you really do like rafe on top of you better, his hair falling around his forehead as he looks down at you.

“you’re so pretty baby, i don’t care that i have to do all the work.” rafe says as he pumps into you. “not when your pussy is this tight.”

you grab at rafes shoulders, pulling him down into you so you can press your lips together. rafe grabs your tit with one of his hands, keeping the other around your waist as he kisses you, tongue pushing inside of your mouth as another show of his dominance.

“gonna cum inside me?” you question.

“of course im gonna baby girl.” rafe says, sealing his promise with a kiss as he begins to move faster, digging deeper into your cunt.

“please.” you whimper, wanting to feel rafe release inside of you. you scratch your fingernails lightly down his back, making him shiver as his cock suddenly pulses, spurts of cum shooting into you.

“oh fuck, baby.” rafe moans as you clench around him, purposely milking him.

rafe collapses to the side of you, slipping out of your cunt, leaving his cum to slide out of your pussy onto the bedsheets.

rafe breathes deeply for a minute while you also try to get your breath back before he turns on his side, kissing your jawline and neck as he brings his hand back towards your pussy, but you shut your legs, squeezing your thighs tightly to deny him.

“but you didn’t cum yet.” rafe says with a pout, feeling like he failed if he can’t get you off too.

“i’m too tired, don’t wanna.” you admit with a shrug, feeling satisfied without the orgasm.

rafe can’t help the small chuckle that leaves his mouth. “you’re too tired from riding me for like two minutes? and you tried to argue that you’re not a pillow princess?” “yeah, whatever.” you roll your eyes. “just cuddle me.”

rafe nods, pulling you in with his big arms, letting you snuggle into his chest. “i love you princess.”

the words warm you, making your cheeks blush, never getting tired of hearing him say those three words as you tip your head up, letting your lips ghost over his. “i love you too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby

#this is kinda rushed and i think i hate it :)#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx x reader #obx fic

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ellecdc · 27 days

Note

Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea

So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort

it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team

It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.

“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”

“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”

But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.

Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.

“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”

Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.

You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”

Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”

You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.

Perhaps more importantly, neither had James

“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.

“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.

“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.

“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.

“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.

“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.

“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”

“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.

“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”

With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.

The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.

As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.

Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.

Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.

In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.

“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.

With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.

You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.

Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.

You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.

Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.

Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.

There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.

There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.

The pressure became too much.

You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.

“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”

You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.

“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.

Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.

“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”

“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.

“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.

“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.

“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.

“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.

“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.

“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.

“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.

“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.

“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”

But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.

“Mr. Black.”

“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney.

“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle.

“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.”

You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate.

“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.

“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”

“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.

“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.

“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.

“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.

“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.

“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.

Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.

“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side.

“I know.” He whispered back.

“So are you.”

Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.

“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy.

“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”

“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle.

Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead.

“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.

You nodded and offered him a small smile.

Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.

“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.

“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.

James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.”

You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore.” You offered with a nod.

“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching.

“I need a healer!”

James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking.

“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”

James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”

“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”

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flowercrowngods · 10 months

Text

this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne.

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear.

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths.

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who—

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave.

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help.

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much.

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops.

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath.

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well. “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.”

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening?

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision.

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!”

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one.

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared.

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting.

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?”

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now.

He doesn’t.

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should—

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react.

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.”

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort.

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington.

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now.

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time.

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?”

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie!

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away.

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way.

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign.

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he—

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts.

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.”

A beat. “Everywhere.”

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.”

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?”

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech.

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what.

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now.

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.”

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die.

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake.

“Hagan did that to you?”

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?”

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.”

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.”

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?”

“What?”

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?”

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more.

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.”

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.”

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over.

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this.

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly.

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #this is somewhere between s3 and s4 obviously #but also i just re-read the op post and realised that this is nothing like what they wished for so uh. sorry? never trust me with prompts y #who did this to you #hurt steve #steve harrington whump #pre-steddie #sorry op maybe i'll try again and get it right this time but uh. yeah #dio words

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thebirdsandthebats · 7 months

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Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:

UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)

So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe

Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)

Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.

In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.

I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)

So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.

So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.

But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.

And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.

And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.

And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.

So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.

And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.

So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:

#WHEW IT TOOK A WHILE TO ORGANIZE THESE PANELS #Hes NOT BORING he is SO FASCINATING TO ME #i think his character is just not being utilized the way it could be #I didnt source every panel so just ask if you want to know where something is from!#bernard dowd #batfamily #dc comics #tim drake #timber #timbern

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butterflytint · 4 months

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fav positions

Summary: jjk men and their fav positions

Pairings: jjk men x fem!reader

Warnings: nsfw, sexual content, missionary, cowgirl, riding, doggy style, fluff if you squint

Satoru Gojo

This man LOVES it rough. Not much of a surprise there as he’s the strongest.

But this man also loves being soft and intimate with the right person—you. He seems the type to love doggy because he can be fast and rough with it but in actuality he loves when you ride him.

He adores how he can see everything. How your pussy sucks in his cock with every stroke. How your tits bounce. How your face scrunches when you struggle to take in every inch of his thick cock. How your eyes flick between his face and where the two of you are connected.

He loves the intimacy of it all. This way, he can place his hands on your waist, let his fingers sink into your flesh as he guides you up and down his dick, occasionally landing a smack on your ass to goad you on. He lives for the sensation of the one thing most precious to him in the world gazing down at him, so desperately fucking herself on his cock—her hands on his chest, occasionally sliding up and digging into his shoulders when the pleasure would become too much.

As much as he enjoys the intimacy, a small part of him enjoys the sadism in it all. How tired you’re getting from riding him for god knows how long. How you’re a whimpering and whiny mess. How your body visibly reacts to his praise—to him calling you a good girl and telling you how well you’re taking his fat cock. How you lean down, kissing his lips as if to appeal to him, quietly whisper to him how much you love him.

That’s when he finally wraps his arms around your frame, holding you close against him as he fucks up into your sopping cunt. He’ll kiss you back, murmuring praise for you in between and telling you how much he loves you.

Suguru Geto

Let’s be honest, he enjoys any position but for some reason he loves doing it sideways.

Thoroughly enjoys lazy sex when you two are cuddling in bed on a lazy Sunday afternoon

While you’re on your phone, facing away from him, his chest is against your back. His arm is strewn across you and his palm is casually slipped under the hem of your camisole, resting on your stomach. That hand eventually glides up to squeeze at your breast, teasing your nipple by pinching it, making you whimper breathlessly.

That ends up leading to him rutting his hardening dick against your clothed ass. It’s just him grinding against you while you turn your head enough to kiss him.

It’s a matter of minutes (never more than two) before he’s tugging your shorts down, moving your underwear to the side to slip the head of his cock in your dripping cunt. At first, he’ll relish how you whine in protest when he teases your opening by pushing the tip of his cock in, only to pull it back out.

He’ll smirk and let out a humored breath before planting a soft kiss on your jaw, “I’m just playing with you, princess.”

Then he pushes the tip back in, groaning along with you as he hooks his hand under your knee, spreading your legs enough for you to really feel him.

He starts off slow, letting you adjust to his size as he bottoms out in you. When he starts to move in you, he’s still so gentle with it. Slowly rocking his hips into you, alternating between burying his face in the crook of your neck or lazily kissing your lips, tongues intertwining as you moan into each other’s mouths.

Then he’ll quicken his pace, fucking you with harsh and fast thrusts. What starts off lazy always becomes messy and rough. His breaths become heavy as he watches how you plant your face in your pillow to muffle your screams. How your entire body is shaking and spasming, clawing at the sheets or at his forearm when he slithers his hand down between your legs to circle at your clit.

Your leg begins to cramp and you’re writhing because of his strokes. He’s not satisfied till he feels you creaming all over him, your bodies becoming sweaty and sticky.

Kento Nanami

He’s a gentle lover that can get rough when he needs to or really wants to. But his number one priority is making his partner feel comfortable before anything else. So missionary is always what he prefers, especially because of the affection in it. The intimacy, the closeness, the familarness, the eye contact, the clear indication of desire—he basks in all of it.

Of course, he enjoys the intimate aspect of it when it’s with somebody he genuinely loves and feels comfortable with himself.

He gets to stare down at you when he’s pistoning his cock in and out of you. He gets to watch your brows pinch together and mouth part in breathy moans and gasps all because of what he’s doing to you. He feels his heart rate pick up and he’s not sure at first if it’s the fact he’s fucking you right now or because he’s fucking you.

He loves this position because you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him against you while he bites into your shoulder, not too hard because he’s so afraid of hurting you. Ever the gentleman.

He gets to hear your desperate panting straight in his ear. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as your back arches. He angles his hips so he could thrust deeper in you, make sure that he’s giving you the pleasure you need when the tip of his cock reaches places deep in you that get your head spinning. His elbows would be propped up either side of your head when he feels your hands slide up the back of his head. Nails scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull him so his lips are on yours.

When you’re moaning against his lips, mumbling his name between passionate kisses, he’s not sure if he can last much longer.

Toji Fushiguro

Doggy . . . are we surprised?

Yeah, he loves hitting it from the back and would do it against any surface. The bed, the couch, you bent over the kitchen counter, in the backseat of a car, against the wall—and windows. There is practically little room for exceptions here and there.

Obviously, it’s not the only thing he’ll do with you during sex. He loves the buildup to it—the fiery kisses, the touching and groping, going down on you, you sucking his dick, all the banter and back-talk before he finally flips you onto your stomach and has you on all fours.

His large hands are on your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he could watch how your cunt takes every inch of his big dick. He smirks when you glance back over your shoulder all breathless and whiny, not looking at him but where he’s sinking into you.

Once he’s buried himself in you, he starts moving at a pace so ruthless your gasping for air and fisting the sheets by the side of your head. His hands are on your waist, his grip strong enough that you’re sure there’d be indents on your skin later.

He loves watching you under him, how the muscles in your back contract with every thrust—how your shoulder blades threaten to pinch together from how much you’re squirming. How your back arches into the mattress and you’re moaning loud enough to lose your voice.

He loves grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you up against his broad frame and truly recognizing how much smaller you are than him. It makes him yank your head back enough so he could sloppily make out with you, saliva trickling from the corner of your mouth.

His thick fingers skim around your hip, drifting toward your dripping cunt and circling your clit. It’s enough to make you muffle a squeal against his lips and writhe against his body. It reminds him how little and how much he can do to get you succumbing to him everytime, to have you crying out his name with tears in your eyes.

He’ll tease you like that for a bit before shoving your head down in the mattress again, leaning over your shivering frame and pressing his chest to your back. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, trying to mask his grunts from the unrelenting pace his cock is ploughing into you. The hand that’s not in your hair is expertly wrapped around your torso, holding you against his body as he fucks you like he wants to keep you from walking the rest of the week.

Choso Kamo

I feel like he wouldn’t have a preference as he LOVES them all lmao but lotus is one of his fav.

There’s some crazy sensation of butterflies stirring in his guts while he’s rearranging yours. Having you sitting pretty in his lap while he’s sitting up too, your eyes being the ones looking down at his, his arms around your waist, and yours around his neck.

What he loves most about this position is that it reaffirms how strong your chemistry is. With you swaying your hips against him, desperately trying to get yourself off on his dick. His mouth is level with your breasts enough for him to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, gaze up at you while you curl your fingers in his dark hair.

He can truly appreciate your body this way too, watch the way you toss your head back or lean back enough to get the right amount of friction between the two of you. With hazy eyes, he watches your pussy stretching out on his cock and those same dark eyes would flick back up to your fucked out face.

One of his favorite things to do though, is grab you by the back of your neck and pull you towards his face. Capture you in a kiss that allows each of you to capture each other’s moans as well. He loves the feeling of desperation exuding from each of your bodies, the man’s a romantic so it explains why.

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sweetestdesire · 1 month

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RISQUÉ REFLECTIONS

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, choking kink, heavy praise kink, spit kink, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Luke Hughes wants Fem!Reader to see just how pretty she looks when she cums for him.

The mirror that reflected her image back to her was daunting. Almost mocking. Y/N could hardly muster up the courage to allow herself to meet her own gaze, and trying to peer at the man who stood behind her was strangely even more troubling. Luke’s lips were pulled taunt, a devilish smile splayed across his face as he watched her squirm in his warm embrace.

Muscular arms kept Y/N trapped and facing the mirror, leaving her legs spread and splayed open for her and him. His broad chest, warm and pressed flush against her. Y/N couldn’t help but shiver, feeling his erection nestled right against the swell of her ass.

Luke’s face dug into the crook of her neck as he inhaled her familiar scent. “Has my pretty girl not been feeling her best?”

Y/N’s face grew hot as his hand laid on her stomach, toying with the elastic band of her panties. She answered him with quiet shrug.

His fingers stilled for a brief moment. “I need you to tell me when you aren’t feeling good about yourself, baby.” Luke whispered against the shell of her ear, teeth tugging at the lobe. “Take a look in the mirror and see how just pretty you look.” When she tried to hide, he shook his head and softly tilted her chin towards their shared reflection in the mirror. “Want you to look at how fucking sexy you are like this. Know you don’t think so, but I think you’re a goddess.”

Luke’s fingers slipped down her stomach, stopping at the elastic band of her panties as his other hand rested beneath her chin. He tilted her head upward, his grip firm and unwavering even as she tried to turn her head to the side. Y/N lifted her hips in an attempt to goad him into delving further beneath the cotton but his hand stilled, mouth falling agape as he shook his head at her.

“Beg for me, and then I’ll consider touching you.” The whine that stuck at the back of her throat made it nearly impossible to say anything. Letting her eyes meet his through the reflection, she offered him a pathetic and helpless expression. “You can do better than that.” He tutted. “Don’t give me those eyes, you’ve hardly even tried.”

Y/N’s cheeks puffed out in annoyance, this mood of his utterly maddening. Swallowing the breath she didn’t realize she held, she spread her legs a little wider for him, and an expectant gaze shot his way. “Please, Luke. I need you so bad.” Y/N whined, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, you brat?” Luke joked, but he said it like he could read her mind. Y/N supposed in a way he could; she wore her heart on herself, her thoughts written across her face no matter how hard she tried to hide them.

“I’m not a brat.” Y/N frowned, breath hitching when he pulled her panties down. “You’re just mean.”

“Oh, am I?”

Y/N nodded. “Just the worst.”

“C’mon, you don’t mean that.” Luke muttered with a disapproving click of his tongue. “You love me.”

Luke’s calloused fingertips smoothed down her stomach and through the thatch of curls until he landed on her clit. It throbbed with need, her breath hitching when he slowly massaged a circle into the bud. The tension in her shoulders seeped out as she slumped further against his warm, broad chest.

“Say you love me.” Luke whispered, his voice sugary-sweet like candy.

Y/N responded with a whimper, back arching in search of something more. Her body ached to be filled and stretched by him, she needed it like her lungs needed fresh air to breathe but Luke kept an arm wrapped firmly around her stomach, holding her firmly against his chest. She took what she was given until he got what he wanted.

“I love you.” Y/N moaned, her eyes rolling in the back of her head the moment his gaze darkened from her face to her pussy. “And I love the way you fuck me just as much.”

“Oh, is that right?” Luke kissed her shoulder, sucking on the skin gently, trailing to her neck. “Patience, baby.” He groaned, aching with the need to be buried balls deep inside of her perfect pussy, feeling her walls hug around him tight like they always did.

Luke snaked his hands up her body, giving her tits a quick squeeze, before firmly wrapping around her neck. Y/N’s body tensed for a moment. He smirked, knowing what he was doing. Not too tight where she couldn’t breathe, but firm enough on the sides of her throat where he could feel her pulse more clearly underneath his grip.

He raised an eyebrow, taunting her. “Need me to fuck you?” Luke snickered, earning a pleading nod from her. His hand lingered around her throat, running his thumb on her jaw and he smirked. “How bad do you want it?” He asked, eyes glinting with mischief as his hands slowly roamed down to her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her nipples and pinching them between his fingers.

Y/N mewled while leaning against him, back arching against his chest as he kept at it. He toyed with them, rolling his thumbs over the sensitive buds as she writhed in his grasp, and in an instant, one hand fell to her dripping pussy, his middle and ring fingers plunging into her, curling against her walls as his thumb ran over her clit.

“Please, Luke.” Y/N gasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head, but not for too long because almost instantly, his hand left her tit to grab her face and turn her to the mirror, squeezing her cheeks together as a warning. Her eyes immediately darted between her legs, and she watched as his fingers thrust in and out of her, coated with her slick as they curled into her, making her cry out.

“Keep watching, baby.” Luke warned. “Don’t you dare look away. I need you to see everything.” He groaned, his voice becoming deeper, and raspier, and so sensual. “Want you to see just how pretty you look when you’re like this.”

Luke thrust his fingers into her quickly, bullying his digits into her as they plunged into the spot that made her keen, thighs quivering as she tried to stay upright on her knees while he abused her dripping folds with his fingers. Smirking, Luke grind his throbbing erection against her ass, groaning deeply at the small bit of friction he chased as he helped her ride out her high.

“Are you ready?” Luke stroked his aching cock a few times, moaning at the feel, and by now, his mind was fogged with nothing but the thought of sinking deep into her as he split her open with his cock.

Luke slowly pushed into her pussy, hands gripping her hips tightly. He watched with fascination as his length disappeared, only to reappear as he pulled out and sank back in. Somehow, he thought he felt it a thousand times more intensely when he actually watched himself fuck into her, seeing his cock get coated in her wetness right before him.

He couldn’t stop staring. The mirror in front of them was pristine and it let him see every inch, every thrust, every shiver of Y/N’s body. Luke knew what she looked like, of course. He knew her body well, knew the way it arched under his reverent, scarred hands. He knew her, but not like this, not now that his eyes could meet hers.

“Open your mouth.” It was a command Y/N had heard one too many times from him, though usually it happened when she dropped to her knees and he had her waiting patiently just to pleasure him. Still, she could do nothing but obey, lips parting upon his request. “Tongue out.”

Y/N’s tongue poked out and, in a rush of emotions, his hand met her neck, squeezing lightly as he let a dollop of his own spit drip down into her mouth. “Go ahead, baby. I know how good you are at swallowing.” He thrived off of the widening of her eyes, off of the disheveledness in her complexion, off of the way her mouth clamped shut, mouth dropping open in a silent plead for more.

Moaning, Luke bucked his hips desperately into her, and Y/N watched with equal fascination as he fell apart behind her, lip in between his teeth and eyes screwed shut as he thrust in and out of her. He looked stunning, the reddish hue flushing over his cheeks, his curls messy and falling out of place, sticking to his sweaty forehead.

Y/N whimpered as she struggled to keep her eyelids open. She did think the sight of them was quite beautiful, but she also felt dirty, humiliated. And then Luke grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“Watch yourself.” Luke’s voice crooned into her ear. “My pretty girl.” He whispered, eyes memorizing every inch of her skin. “You look so good taking my cock like this.”

His words rang into Y/N’s head as her eyes opened and watched how truly right he was. Luke’s hand held on to her hair in a makeshift ponytail to keep her upright, her trembling legs holding on for dear life as he fucked into her.

“I can’t.” Y/N whimpered. “I’m gonna cum.” Her stuttered breaths were like fuel to him, the pace continuing but a bit harder. Looking in the mirror and seeing how much he loved being inside of her, how his eyes locked on hers in the reflection? It was out of one of her filthiest books.

“Then cum, baby. No one’s stopping you.” Luke smirked. “Just keep watching. The prettiest girl with the best pussy. You look like a fucking goddess when you cum.” Luke’s own face was flushed, jaw slack as he worked her, watching the pleasure on her face as he got all the way. “Just can’t get over how perfect you are.”

Y/N nodded at his words, whispering out his name, which came out as a stutter. “Just for you.” Luke smiled, knowing that it was his cock making her feel good, his fingers that got her off every time she needed him to distract her, his kisses that made her giggle, his tongue that lapped up her juices whenever he was eating her out.

Luke pulled tighter on her hair to make her arch a little more, his other hand fingering over her slippery, swollen clit. Y/N was clenching around him, a creamy ring around the base of his cock from how aroused she was.

“Oh, God.” Y/N gasped, whining when he bit at her neck, sucking on the skin and leaving a small mark. “Please, Luke. Harder.” She pleaded, and he listened, ramming into her from behind at a quicker pace, balls slapping against her ass as he whined into her skin, watching her expression morph into one of pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good.” Luke groaned, moaning when she clenched down on him at his words. They both trained their eyes at the way his swollen cock sunk into her over and over again, angeled thrusts meeting the spot that made them see stars every time. Gripping onto his arm tightly again, she dug her nails into the skin, making him grunt into her neck.

“Fuck, Luke. More, need more.” Y/N growled, his hand snaking over her hips to find her clit, rubbing harsh circles as she mewled at the added stimulation. Her head fell back to his shoulder, bumping against him with every rock of his hips as he rutted into her.

“Is that what you needed, baby? Need me to spoil you, huh?” Luke grinned, watching through the reflection as her entrance swallowed him in with each time he slipped his tip past her folds. Her face broke with pleasure, every slam of his pelvis making her expression shatter.

“So good. Feels so good, Luke.” Y/N whined, briefly looking away from the mirror to close her eyes from the intense amount of pleasure.

“Eyes on the mirror.” He murmured, increasing the pace of his movements. “If you look away, I’ll stop and I’ll leave you like this.”

“Oh, God.” Y/N’s orgasm approached, her hand smacking against the mirror to keep herself upright as the tremors hit her. Her eyes met his as it hit her, the mirror capturing what she usually didn’t see.

“Look at yourself.” Luke demanded, his hand coming to grip her hair, making look into the mirror. Her cheeks burned hot as she took in their reflection. “Don’t you look so beautiful when you’re being fucked?” He teased, his free hand rubbing down the middle of her back.

Y/N whimpered in embarrassment as she kept her eyes focused on the mirror, her lips parted slightly as small moans fell past them.

“Nuh-uh, baby. I need to hear you say it.” He purred, wanting to hear her praise herself.

Y/N whined softly, her eyes locking with his in the mirror. “I look beautiful when you’re fucking me.” She said, voice quivering slightly from the pleasure that was building between her thighs.

Luke groaned deep in his chest, his hips snapping into her so hard it made her cry out. “Good girl.” He told her. His words made her shiver, her body clenching around him. He was pounding into her at a relentless pace, his thrusts aimed to have her unraveling.

“Luke.” Y/N breathed out, her whole body feeling hot as her release inched closer and closer.

“God, and you make such pretty noises, too.” She was sure her face couldn’t have burned hotter as Luke’s compliments seeped into her skin as she tightened around his cock.

Y/N watched as Luke increased his pace, his skin now slapping against hers as he held her up and thrusted his cock inside her wet pussy. Her eyes traveled from her pussy to his face. His eyebrows were knit together and his tongue was sticking out as he panted heavily. He looked so hot she thought she might cum then and there.

“Getting close.” Y/N said, struggling to even out her ragged breathing.

“Means I’m doing something right, wouldn’t you say?” Luke asked sarcastically, giving her a cheeky smile. She nodded, not trusting her shaky voice to answer him out loud. “Why don’t you cum for me, then?”

Y/N was already mindless, but when the next place his fingers fell was between her thighs, it only took a few messy circles of her clit with two of his digits before she was stiffening. Her pussy felt like it was trying to fucking milk him, it only pulling tighter every time he drew his hips back, trying to lure back in every inch she lost before he was burying it back inside of her.

Luke held her up, her breasts bouncing with each thrust he gave her and her own arousal taking over her face as he fucked her through it, murmuring praises into her ear. “That’s it, I know. I know, baby. Just keep watching, look at how pretty you are for me.”

Luke groaned, low and rugged and she knew he was desperately trying to keep a hold on the last string of his sanity, but her pussy felt so fucking good around him. Her moans fell freely from her lips, making Luke smirk in delight. His cock twitched as he gave into his thoughts, forcing himself to switch his focus back onto his moaning, trembling girl.

“Feels so good, my perfect girl. So tight for me.” Luke’s voice left her shuddering, eyes meeting his piercing ones. She already was too far gone, thoughts messy, forcing her to rely on him, to guide her through her arising high.

Y/N’s thighs twitched when she felt his thumb reach down to tease her puffy clit once more, every swipe shooting tiny aftershocks through her system as she thrashed below him, still so sensitive from her orgasm. Luke spread her thighs even wider before his thrusts were becoming sloppier, and she watched his head fall back to moan when she squeezed and trembled around the sensitive head of his cock.

Y/N felt him sloppily roll his hips to aid her through her highs while she was creaming around his cock for the second time, feeling him panting into her skin. His voice cracked as he called out her name, broken curses falling past his parted lips as he shot thick ropes of cum and painted her walls white. Each ribbon he fucked into her clouded his mind with nothing but his orgasm as he thrust into her, riding them both through their peaks.

“Fuck, baby.” Luke whined, voice lilting slightly high pitched and chest heaving as he slowed the bucking of his hips, coming to a stop once they were both done.

Y/N’s heart fluttered, her pussy giving a similar pulse. The glass began to fog with the moisture of their panting breaths, clouding their reflection in matching intervals with their heaving chests. When she glanced at his face in the mirror, she found his eyes trained on her, a grin gracing his lips.

Slowly, their eyes both trained on his cock as pulled out of her, his cum oozing down her legs. Y/N’s eyes hazed over with lust and his softening member twitched, rehardening at the sight, and with one glance at each other’s eyes through the mirror, they both knew they were nowhere near done for the night.

#luke hughes blurb #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes x fem!reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #new jersey devils #luke hughes fluff

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sluttywoozi · 11 months

Text

Good To Me

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k

inspired by @bbychocolat telling me she wants mingyu to [redacted] 💖💖💖

Warnings: implied consent, rough sex, not as much foreplay, big dick mingyu, lots of holding down, not really proofread, multiple orgasms for both, aftercare

Reader Notes: has a vagina, wears a dress and heels, gets carried by mingyu

Mingyu is on you before the front door is closed.

He’s been making eyes at you all night, ever since you entered the bathroom wearing that dress, the one that always drives him crazy, while he was busy brushing his teeth, his glasses resting on his nose and his white undershirt nearly sheer with the way it stretched over his muscles.

You knew this would happen, which is exactly why you took your panties off at the restaurant. They’re in the pocket of his suit jacket, not that he bothered to put it back on before all but dragging you from the restaurant and racing home.

This is exactly what you wanted when you pulled that dress off the hanger. It’s been too long since he’s really fucked you, and it’s always more fun to goad him into it than to simply ask.

He works the dress off while you’re thinking and his deep whine is what breaks you of your focus. You don’t get to take in the situation, he just spins you in your heels and presses you up against the door to push it closed, spanking you once before spreading your ass cheeks and kneeling. He mouths over your cunt, spreading your wetness and spearing you open on his tongue as he wraps one arm around your hips to rub your clit from the front.

His tongue leaves you before you can get used to it, his fingers replacing it, scissoring deep inside to spread you just enough for his fat cock. He stands and shuffles in close, his breaths on your neck and his teeth in your skin as he takes hold of his cock and presses his way inside you. It’s a tight fit but you love feeling yourself stretch around him, love knowing that you can take him if you try. Pressing your arms to the door, you wiggle back against him, knowing that you’re playing with fire.

You can feel the metal of his wedding ring digging into your skin with how tightly he’s gripping your hip, and he releases your right side to spank you again and groan, “Baby, you know I’m trying to stay in control here.”

“I don’t want you to,” you moan back, bucking your hips again and taking another couple inches inside.

“Fuck, are you sure?” He pants into your neck, emphasizing the last word with a squeeze of your hips.

You know that if you say yes, he’s going to fuck you so hard he’ll have to carry you to bed, but that’s exactly what you want, so you sigh a dreamy, “Yes, Gyu,” and arch your back to give him a better angle.

He doesn’t bother saying anything else.

He just fucks into you, shoving balls deep in one thrust and giving you little time to recover before pulling back and fucking into you again. The door rattles on its hinges and you yelp when he pushes you harder against it, his hands pulling your ass back into him with every pump of his hips. He must decide you’re not close enough because one arm winds around your waist and pulls you into his chest and the other grasps your jaw to turn your head back so he can kiss you.

It doesn’t stay a kiss for long, eventually you can only pant into his mouth as he fucks you into the door, his cock paving a path in you until you’re wet enough that he glides. That’s when you lose the ability to talk, just whines and whimpers and moans leaving your spit-slick lips, his own moving down your neck so he can press his canines into your shoulder. His grip on your jaw shifts down to your throat, not squeezing, just holding you against him so the full length of your body meets his.

He’s crowded so close to you, his scent clouds your mind, and his arm and hand are so tight around you, you can barely breathe. You love it, love falling into the haze of him as he fucks you into a stupor. You try to let out an elated laugh but you don’t have enough air and he loosens his grasp on you, pressing a questioning sound into your hair even as he keeps pushing into you.

“Good, I’m good,” you gasp, tilting your head back to rest against him. He pants back, “You are, my good fucking-,”

An uncontrolled buck of his hips cuts him off, and when you feel him throb and jerk deep inside, you know he’s close. You clench down on him once, twice, making him swear and press closer to you, your body sandwiched between his and the door. The first was on purpose but the second wasn’t, and before you can try to stop, your walls start to flutter. He unwraps his arm from your waist, sliding it down to work his hand between your thighs and get his fingers on your clit.

The waves overcome you, your spasming cunt lulling him into his own orgasm, his cum filling you as his cock bucks in the hold of your walls. His canines dig into your skin deep enough to leave indents but you can still hear his groan turned whine, his voice loud against the roaring in your ears. You struggle not to wilt in his arms, your release sapping your energy, and he must feel it because he coos, “It’s okay, honey, I’ll hold you up.”

He crouches with you, gathering your legs up in his arms and bucking into you once more.

That’s when you realize he’s still hard.

“Again?” He breathes into your neck, waiting for you to nod before thrusting into you, picking up a punishing pace immediately. You hiccup against him, feeling your pussy gush around his cock with both your wetness and his cum. You’ll have to clean the hardwood after, you can feel it running down your ass and dripping onto the floor, but you know that’s not important right now, know he’ll only fuck you harder if he knows you let your mind wander to cleaning.

If you didn’t already cum so hard you could barely stand, you’d tell him just to feel him like that, but you fear this is all you can take now.

Mingyu knows, always knows what you need and what you can handle, and he trusts you to show or tell him what you want, which is why he gruffly whispers, “Knew exactly what would happen when you wore that dress, knew I’d rip it off of you as soon as we got home, didn’t you?”

He’ll stop if you don’t answer, so you squeeze down on his cock and whine, “‘Course I did, and you knew this was what I wanted.”

He laughs, nods against you, “I’ll always give you what you want, baby, what you need. And if you can still talk, I’m not giving it to you hard enough.”

He lifts you up and drops you down, bringing you to meet the movements of his hips as he slowly makes his way over to the sofa.

“I didn’t tell you but when we bought this couch, I pictured bending you over it in my head to make sure it was the perfect height.”

Gently folding you over the arm, he pulls back and thrusts deep inside. You arch your spine, reveling in the zap that travels down it with his admission and subsequent groan as he watches your ass jiggle every time his hips hit it.

“You’re… so-,” you wheeze, turning your face into the couch when he places a hand on the back of your neck and presses down, “Thoughtful,” you mumble into the fabric.

He must tire of your attitude, his hips tilting to find the spot that will finally render you speechless and his thrusts gaining speed until you go limp against him and let him fuck you like a ragdoll. It’s glorious, the way he fills your pussy and your mind, and you let loose a string of whimpers that have him leaning down to bite the nape of your neck, a primal flash of want searing down your back as he sinks his teeth into you.

You’re already nearing the edge again, and when his balls start to clap against your clit every time he pounds into you, you tumble over, tears gathering along your lashline as you whine your way through an orgasm. He follows you, groaning into your skin and holding you close as his cock jumps inside you and spits out strings of cum.

Mingyu stays there, leaning over you and pressing you into the couch until you squirm beneath him out of a lack of air.

“Can we go to bed?” You murmur, turning your head to the side so your words aren’t swallowed by the couch cushion.

“Shower first,” he mumbles back, peeling himself away from you before picking you up off the couch and staggering with you to the bathroom.

He helps you to the toilet as the water warms, pulling you into his arms and stumbling over to the shower when most of his cum has seeped out of you and the steam fogs up the mirror. He holds you close as you rinse clean under the warm stream, most of the water hitting your back before he takes the handheld and cleans you himself.

When he deems you relatively spotless, he gently pushes you to sit on the tiled bench, the chill of the porcelain making you jump and waking you up the slightest bit. You reach for your cleanser, clumsily scrubbing your face clean and requesting a rinse from your husband, which he happily grants, his hand blocking the harsh jets of water so only a weak stream flows over you.

He carefully wipes your eyes clean with his thumbs after replacing the handheld, his hands cupping your cheeks as he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Love you,” he whispers.

“Love you,” you whisper back, “You know you’ll have to carry me, right?”

“Oh, baby, I know,” he smirks, swiping a thumb over your chin and shutting the water off without looking before wrapping you in your bath sheet and gathering you up in his arms to bring you to bed.

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garoujo · 7 months

Text

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes your boyfriend’s want for you just seems to be insatiable.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, mating press, breeding, biting, he loses control of his technique a teeny tiny bit at the end, im going absolutely insane. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii this is a lil mix of my gojo thoughts over the past few months, my sanity is slipping as u can tell <3

the way gojo satoru was in bed was exactly how he was in real life, absolutely merciless when he wanted to be, you realise with the dizzy haze in your mind and the pillow he’s shoved under your hips. there’s a pleasurable burn in your thighs where he’s got them folded into you, your ankles dangling by his ears as his hips press into your ass and the way he looks over you is needy, and a little wild.

but he only really got like this on on a few occasions, like after a gruelling mission, a boring mountain of paperwork or maybe you’d been teasing him. sometimes he’s just consumed by the idea of you carrying his kids— he’s so incredibly insatiable.

“you feel me right here, sweet thing, hm?” the snowy haired man above you hisses with a languid roll of his hips, deliberately pressing into the sweet spots inside of you that he always seems to be able to find so easily. but you can barely breathe, nevermind answer with how full you feel — your warm walls twitching around his heavy shaft before he’s giving you a few more thrusts.

“don’t hold out on me, it feels good, right?” gojo goads, chuckles when the next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your insides has your lips parting to moan, eyes squeezing shut as you wriggle underneath him.

“‘ts too deep, satoru! fuck—“ you manage, voice breaking under the weight of your own arousal but shit— he loves you like this. pliant and pretty and all his. you’re basically begging for him to give you his soul, to pour it into your body and your bones until you’re twitching— his stamina was limitless after all, an endless pool of energy.

“oh? but i’m sure you can take more..” gojo’s words are a low drawl as he curls over your folded figure, making your muscles scream for some sort of relief but he still manages to give you more. he begins a pace that’s so deep, so animalistic that you feel like you could black out with the way the pleasure rips through you, making your body clap against his as his balls smack loudly against your ass and suddenly he’s even deeper.

“see, i knew it.” it’s smug despite the the trembling undercurrent to his tone, breaking under the weight of his own arousal as his voice takes an octave higher. but you’re doing so well for him, your eyes are rolled back— lips parted and you’re basically begging for him to go harder when he leans into press his lips against yours, pushing his name between your lips as your hands grab at him for any sort of relief.

“almost there, right?” gojo groans against you with the next quiver of your walls; the next particularly heavy thrust makes your thighs tremble and he’s so deep it almost hurts, making something spark and burn along your inside as he fucks you into the mattress like a wild animal.

you whimper, barely— it’s a desperately pathetic little sound, wound up tight and it makes him pull away to look at you, crystalline eyes cloudy with lust before his lips are stretching into a smirk.

“oh, more?” gojo’s head cocks to the side and you know you’re done for when his pace picks up, every heavy thrust is driven by the muscles in his body and your pussy squelches loudly with every wet connection of his hips.

“oh, i’ll give you more, baby. so greedy f’ me, hm?” despite his teasing, he’s babbling— sweat beading along his skin as the snowy peaks of his hair frame his flushed features and fuck, the pretty sight above you only makes you feel even better. you’re so high off his desperation, every muscle in your body screams under his but the nerves in your body cry even louder with how good you feel— with how much your body craves him.

“‘ts so tight, you milkin’ me, sweet girl? how many you want, huh? give you as many as you need. wanna see you swollen f’ me, you want that, mhm?” gojo’s barely coherent but his words only make you squeeze around him tighter— a silent little invitation as every thrust has you crying more, more, more! satoru, want your cum—please! punched out little gasps and cries as he digs the orgasm out of you.

“oh, you’ll look so pretty f’ me—f-fuck!” his huge body is looming over yours, pressing you into the mattress and the pillows beneath you. your thighs are flush against his abdomen and chest, and your lungs feel like they quake on every exhale as your lips part to moan. he presses himself into you— face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he grazes his teeth along the skin there, headboard screeching loudly in time with every smack of his hips.

“‘toru, please please please—‘m g’nna,” you tremble as you shake beneath gojo, thighs tensing tight against his body and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you as he smirks against your skin. your orgasm hits you so suddenly, so hard and good that your toes curl where they hang over his shoulders, your body stiffening beneath him and the first milking compression of your pussy makes his pace stutter, hugs him so tight he can’t help but bite so hard into the sensitive skin of your neck he draws blood.

“should see h-how pretty you look like this. tell me ‘ts all mine, y’ gonna make me a daddy, yeah? g’nna fill you up so good. oh, this pussy’s made f’ me, ain’t it?”

his body trembles as he pulls back slightly to watch your cream pool around the base of his cock, your slick smeared along his skin and your walls still throb with every unforgiving push of his hips. your orgasm feels like it stretches on forever as you gasp out broken yeah, yours, love you so much ‘toru, waves rolling through your body with the heat you feel pour and sting along your nerves. it only takes a few more clapping thrusts and your choked confessions before hes kissing you, just as he likes as his lips curl into you.

gojo cums hard, thick and heavy inside of you when he feels your tongue push against his, swallowing both of your groans into the kiss as he pushes his load into your puffy cunt. you’re both so lost in bliss, so unaware of the electricity across your boyfriends skin and the uncomfortable pressure that seems to suddenly weigh down on your intertwined bodies.

the bedroom light flickers but you don’t notice, he’s slurring curses against your lips as he almost pins your thighs to your chest completely, the air between you seems tighter— atoms trembling in the finate space. but he’s continuing to fuck into your sensitive pussy with tiny little thrusts you don’t notice the creek of your furniture as it twitches out of place— like it’s being pulled towards you both. the small flickers of purple fizzle out when you’re both spent and he’s collapsing on top of you with a low, breathy chuckle, making you whine with the cramp you feel in your body.

“‘toru! you’re heavy.” you grumble, voice worn and scratchy but it doesn’t move gojo as he cuddles deeper into you, leaving sweet little kisses along your skin with obnoxious kissy noises— a stark contrast to how filthy he was being a second ago.

you’re both breathing deep as you give up trying to escape from underneath him, opting to press your fingers through his damp hair instead before he finally moves. he pulls back, enough for his cock to push his cum out of your pussy as he does, squelching and dripping into the mattress beneath you both as you jolt slightly. “careful, ‘ts messy, ‘toru.”

gojo whistles lowly before he looks at you again, one of your legs still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder before he’s placing a sweet kiss to your ankle, then following it up with a painfully languid, experimental thrust as his crystalline eyes focus on the mess he’s made of you.

“come on, sweet girl. you’re not nearly full enough f’ me yet.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

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