#wanted to practice expressions and angles

[delulu-julia]

Can I request tmnt 2012 boys reacting to S/o pulling the “crack my back” prank on them

“Crack my back” prank on turtles

(Romantic, gn reader)

Your very successful prank on them or how would turtles feel after fully believing they just accidentally broke your spine, only to realize they’ve been fooled.

Leonardo

You asked so sweetly.

“Leo, can you just crack my back real quick? It’s killing me—just a little lift from behind, please?”

He’s hesitant—“Are you sure that’s safe?”—but eventually gives in, stepping behind you with careful hands.

He braces his arms around you. Lifts gently.

And then…

CRRRKKKKK.

“OUCHHHHHH—”

You fall forward, groaning dramatically, and hit the floor on your knees.

Leo goes completely still. Hands still hovering where your body was. His swords would never haunt him the way that noise just did.

Headcanons

He’s the most composed — normally. But not when the person he loves just crumbles to the floor with a sound that shouldn’t come from a living body.

“Oh no. Oh no no no—" His voice goes up and cracks into panicked squeak . “I—I didn’t mean to—DONNIE, GET THE FIRST AID KIT—"

He drops to his knees, turning you over with trembling hands, already mentally writing his apology speech to Splinter for maiming you.

“I knew I shouldn’t have done that, I KNEW it—oh no—stay awake—breathe—!!”

You lift your head weakly… and then start laughing, pulling out a few crunchy pieces of pasta from your mouth.

His soul leaves his body. Dead silence. Leo’s face cycles through shock, relief, then utter betrayal.

“…You’re joking. That was a joke?”

He just throws you back to the floor and walks away like a disappointed dad.

…He’ll forgive you in like 15 minutes tho

But next time you ask for a back crack?He’ll draw his sword.

Raphael

He gets this smug smirk like “Heh, yeah. I gotcha.”

Hands on your waist, lifts you up in the classic bear-hug from behind.

And then—

CRACKKKKKK

Your whole body jolts and you drop like a ragdoll.

“HUH?! BABE?! WHAT THE—?!”

Headcanons

Tbh, he falls for it so hard, because you ask him so sincere, like you actually trust him.

Raph practically yelps.

His eyes are wide, his arms stiff, he just stands over you frozen like he just committed war crimes.

He’s on the floor next to you the moment he hears your hissing, lifting your shoulders and neck, eyes wild, absolutely panicking

"WHAT THE—HOLY—" He grabs your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “Hey. HEY. Don’t pass out on me, dumbass!"

His mind races—‘Did I squeeze too hard?! How do you fix a broken back?!’—and he’s two seconds from throwing you over his shell and sprinting to Donnie’s lab

Then you crack one eye open… grin… and hold up the pasta. “Gotcha”

Silence. That one when you just looks at each other, with the same expression. He watches you long enough, ignoring your smile. Raph’s eye twitches. Suddenly, he snaps.

“You— YOU’RE SO— I THOUGHT I SNAPPED YOU IN A HALF—”

He wrestles you into a death hug, holding you to the floor, too tight and too furious. It’s almost looks like this time he wants you to choke on purpose…But not without a good amount of yelling

“You think that’s funny?! That’s NOT!!”

…But also, the way he’s holding you?

Yeah. You’re definitely forgiven.

(Maybe. Sleep with one eye open.)

Donatello

You hit him with the soft:

“Donnie, my back hurts… could you lift me? Y’know, just crack it a little?”

He gets all blushy and seriously “Uh—yeah! I-I mean, okay, sure, yeah I got this!”

He carefully positions himself, arms around your waist, lifting you like you’re made of glass

CRRRAAAACKK.

“AHH MY BACK—”

You collapse.

Groaning. Clutching your side. Twitching for effect.

Donnie drops you like a hot soldering iron.

Headcanons

My sweet genius boy doesn’t even get a chance to analyze before panic kicks in.

“OH MY GOD—OH—OH NO—WHAT—WHAT DID I DO WRONG—THE ANGLE—THE PRESSURE—SWEET HIPPOCRATES I BROKE THEM—”

He frantically checks your pulse, already mentally measuring all possible vertebrae that he could have broken or dislocated

Donnie’s holding you in his hands, screaming through the lair. He’s seconds from prepping for emergency spinal traction

…And then, you reach up slowly. Hand him a broken piece of pasta. “Psych."

Suddenly, he freezes.

He looks at your hand. Then at your face. Blinks. Then repeats—

He drops you again and falls backward, both hands on his face. He sits like that for few moments. Silently. A few looong moments.

And then, if you’ll reach out for him or start to laugh too hard—

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!!”

He screams so loudly that the ends of his bandana bounce. You saw that expression before. Usually that happens after Mikey's blows up a microwave or throws glitter bombs in his lab… It’s the same voice. High-pitched. Frustrated enough to echo through the lair.

“Do you have ANY idea how many spinal injuries I just mentally reviewed in under five seconds?! YOU CANT JUST—“

He’s now just yapping. Waving his hands. Stammering. Honestly? Adorable.

But the second he hears your giggle, or feels your hands, or gets into your hug, he just stops, looking at you with a confusion. And then, as if his charge just suddenly died, he sighs tiredly. Shoulders sag. Eyes soft.

“…That’s not fair” he mutters.

“You can’t scare me to death and smile like that..”

He’s still mad. A little.

But also?

He already forgive you. And totally in love.

Michelangelo

“Aw yeahhh, lemme get that spinal twist!! Say no more!”

He launches into the hug like it’s a wrestling match, lifts you up perfectly—

CRAAAACKKKKK

“AAAAAGHH—MY BACK!!”

You collapse like a noodle.

Mikey SCREAMS.

Headcanons

“B-BABY?! OH NO—WHAT HAVE I DONE—OH SWEET PEPPERONI I BROKE YOU—!!”

He panic-sprints in a full circle around you, arms flailing.

“SOMEONE CALL SOMEONE!! CALL DONNIE! DONNIE—”

He dives to your side, gently cupping your face. “Blink twice if you can still hear me…SQUEEZE MY HAND IF YOU CAN STILL LOVE ME AFTER THAT—”

You peek up open one eye, giggle, and toss a spaghetti noodle at his chest

He stares. “…Wait a second.”

Mikey realizes. His jaw drops. His eyes just running through your face

His face splits into a wide, disbelieving grin.

“DID YOU JUST PASTA-PRANK ME?!”

He bursts into a fit of full-bodied laughter — wheezing, rolling, the whole nine yards. Like, he actually can’t believe he fall for it. Kicks his legs like a toddler in a ball pit.

He immediately lifts you again, just to hear if you brought more.

“DO IT AGAIN!! I WANNA HEAR THE NOODLE BONE!! THAT WAS AWESOME—!!”

And that’s it.

You’ve triggered something primal in his chaotic heart. You started a war.

A prank war.

You’ll never know peace again.

You will now find dry noodles in your shoes. Pasta in your shampoo.

And one day, you will really pull your back…

…and he won’t believe you.

“Nice try, Noodle Assassin—NOT FALLIN’ FOR THAT ONE AGAIN!”

[katanasonata]

No words. Just Link.

[kurooh]

MATCH MY FREAK ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso tryin’ to keep up with their freak of a girlfriend.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, oral, passing out, spitting, some degradation, squirting, public sex, light slapping, choking. | 3.4k words of FILTH

xoxo, juno. needed characterization practice loll. comment & rb if you enjoyed <33

GOJO SATORU # matches you

“aw, you’re so cute when you’re slutting yourself out for my fucking cock, baby,” satoru coos, lips trailing over your pebbled nipples while his tip teases your messy cunt. it was a mistake, deciding to play a stupid game of chicken with him—the gist of the game was to tease one another, and see who’d give up first.

you’d overestimated yourself just a little; you both ended up fully naked, with satoru on top of you and unwilling to let you go so you could make a fair move. but of course, you didn’t want to give up, and neither did he—it doesn’t even matter, not when he’s winning the game like this.

you bite down on your lower lip, weakly closing your thighs in an attempt to push him back to even out the playing field. “oh, is this the first sign of defeat, baby?”

“absolutely not,” you hiss, brows knitting when he tosses your thighs apart and nudges his tip inside you. “you cheated, i can’t even make a fair move.”

“all’s fair in a game of chicken and sex. don’t complain, ‘s not my fault you overestimated yourself.” satoru’s snicker has your heels digging into his lower back as you force him to push his cock inside you; his expression melts into one of pure euphoria as he sinks in, inch by inch.

“how’s that, satoru?” you purr, satisfied. he glares at you, azure eyes hooded and heavy with lust; without even slipping out of you, he flips you over onto your stomach and presses your head into the sheets. beneath the two of you, the bed groans, creaking growing loud as he moves his hips, slamming into you so hard the headboard bangs against the wall.

“got some nerve . . thinking you could show me how to fuck, tsk,” he shakes his head, punctuating his words with harsh thrusts.

“fuck!” you sob, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his waist to pause him for a moment. you’re still thinking about the game, but satoru’s aching for more after having been teased for so long.

“give up and just focus on cumming for me, babygirl,” he grunts into your ear, savoring the gasps you can’t seem to stop letting out. his balls slap into your clit, and the room fills with the filthy sound of fucking—skin against skin, groaning, and begging.

you can’t even form one thought about being competitive when satoru’s fucking every single thing out of your head. “r-right there, toru,” you wail, arching upwards and pressing your ass against him.

satoru gifts it with a smack that rings through the room, then lifts your lips up and doesn’t even give you a second to adjust to the new angle that has you taking his cock both deeper and faster. just when you think you can’t take any more, satoru slips a hand beneath your body and plants his palm firmly against your lower stomach.

“eh, what’re you doing?” wordlessly, satoru draws his hips back until only his tip is left inside you, then presses down with his hand before canting his hips forward. it’s too much—you all but scream as he mercilessly plunges into you again and again.

your body is slick with sweat and only growing hotter by the moment; the sound of his rough panting coupled with the occasional whine he lets out only has you burying your face deeper into the sheets.

satoru clicks his tongue, voice shaking ever so slightly. “arch it for me, baby—fuckkk, that’s perfect.”

he’s delirious with pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head while his face only flushes a darker pink from the heat of it all. that was the thing about him — he could always dish it out, and take it, but not for long.

“i-i’m gonna cum,” and his voice splinters into a whine at the end of his sentence, spurring you on to fuck him back. you’re tossing your hips back onto him, bouncing your ass so deliciously he wants to take a bite. “shit, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to me, satoru,” you manage, turning back at the right moment. icy blue eyes connect with yours and he uselessly blinks away the tears that are gathered on his waterline, only for a few to spill over and run down his cheeks. “cum inside me, make it yours, toru.”

with a groan of your name, satoru’s abs clench as he spills inside you, cock twitching against your cervix. he presses down harder on your lower stomach, drawing out your own orgasm.

“just like that, toru—” you interrupt yourself with a moan as your pussy gushes all over, spraying onto his pelvis and cock.

“that’s my girl,” satoru groans, lightly smacking your clit and chuckling at the way your entire body trembles in response. “by the way, the game was a tie.”

GETO SUGURU # matches you

“open. good girl,” suguru spits onto your awaiting tongue, violet eyes observing expectantly as you swallow. his spit tastes like the grape lollipop he’d been sliding between his lips on your walk around the city together. now, in the backseat of his car, he’s got you caged beneath him, gripping your jaw with one large hand.

“you’re so cute, really,” suguru says with a snort, lightly smacking at your cheek. “your idea of a date is going around and flirting as much as possible. hm, ‘s like you were trying to piss me off, end up like this in the car. you know how busy this place is, don’t you?”

“i don’t care,” you pout, tugging the hem of your shirt upwards to reveal your stomach; he doesn’t stop you as you slide your shorts halfway down, revealing the lace of the panties you’re wearing, all for him. “just touch me, sugu. please?”

“you’re so needy,” he scoffs, although his voice lilts into a willing tone as he unbuttons your shorts and inches backwards to allow you to toss your legs over his shoulders.

suguru’s dark hair is soft from the premium shampoos and conditioners he uses meticulously; half of it was tied up in a tight bun while the rest flowed freely past his shoulders. until you pulled his hair free from its ties and gathered the silky tresses between your fingers, impatiently tugging him towards the place you needed him most.

“would it kill you to be patient?” suguru’s question is genuine as he leaves open mouthed kisses on the tender skin of your inner thighs, nipping lightly to tease you a little more.

“yes,” you huff, fingers relaxing in his hair as he moves closer to your already messy pussy, reveling in the sight of his favorite snack (dessert?).

“shit,” suguru’s voice is strained as he feels arousal resonate through his entire body, causing his temperature and heart rate to spike. “you’re fucking soaked, princess.”

“what’re you waiting for?” you moan, frustrated by the sight of his tongue as he speaks, eager to feel him use it on you.

he ignores you then, opting to land a light slap to your pussy. the force of his palm coming down on your already sensitive clit sends sparks of pleasure through the entire lower half of your body, eliciting a drawn out whine from your lips.

“s-spit on it,” you manage, squirming beneath his heavy gaze. he’s practically burning holes into your skin with those pretty purple eyes of his.

“you want it realll bad, don’t you?” suguru’s tone is nothing short of mocking as he continues to stay a frustrating distance away from your cunt.

frantic for his touch, for him—your hips jolt upwards, and you cry out when he shoves them back down easily. “come on, sugu—i can handle it.”

“yeah? you won’t tap out this time?”

“god, i-i want you to ruin me.”

the admission pulls a laugh from between his lips, and yet he doesn’t waste any time diving forward to devour you. suguru’s tongue strokes up your folds, collecting your wetness at the tip before darting forward to push inside you. the action is meant to tease, to piss you off, and it does.

“d-don’t do this right now, sugu,” your fingers tighten in his hair as you pull him forward insistently.

“alright, alright,” his lips move against your lower pair and he slides his hands beneath your ass to scoop you closer. in a matter of seconds; suguru’s got his whole mouth on you now, sucking and licking and slurping obscenely. the wet noises fill the car, coupled with your shared moans.

tasting you and hearing you is all he really needs to be satisfied; the way you’re tugging on his hair is painful at first, but it quickly becomes something that has him moaning louder than you. that was his achilles heel—his hair, of all things. when pulled just right, or brushed gently, he couldn’t ever stop himself from making those low, yet pretty sounds of his. sometimes his scalp would grow sensitive after a while, and his grunts would turn into pitched moans he couldn’t control.

without a care for the many people passing by the parked car, your back arches off the backseat, tits bouncing deliciously beneath your shirt. “‘m close, sugu—just like that, d-don’t stop!”

he inserts a single finger inside you, filling you up and stretching you out nicely. then, he curls it deeply, prodding against that sweet spot of yours. he’d committed all the places that’d make you tick to memory, and this happened to be one of the top three. suguru’s cheeks darken from the heat of it all as he sucks your clit between his lips and lavishes it with attention from his tongue.

it’s as soft as silk and yet so rough as it drags up and down the swollen bud. your hips jolt upwards again and again, body thrashing as the white hot pleasure circulates throughout your insides, pooling deep in your stomach. the knot frays with each passing second, your toes curling as you hurtle closer to euphoria.

“s-suguru,” you moan. he looks up at the right time to see your eyes rolling back as you dissolve into pleasure. “‘m gonna cum, i—”

your brain short circuits as the knot inside you snaps, cunt squeezing hard around his finger and fluttering as he draws it backwards. your clit hardens beneath his tongue, and he moans from the sensation, the vibrations making you jerk.

suguru’s kind enough to let you ride it out, fingers gripping his hair to the point of potential baldness. he doesn’t mind, especially not when you squeak out a blissed out, dazed “t-thank you, sugu.”

NANAMI KENTO # doesn’t match you yet

“fucking—shit, angel, slow down,” kento swallows a whine, trying not to beg. his head tips back, strands of his blonde hair escaping their neat gel hold and falling over his forehead. “come on, you’re going too fast.”

his pleas fall on deaf ears as you smirk and lean in towards that sweet, sensitive spot on his neck that always has him seeing stars once it’s touched the right way. you giggle against his skin, leaving a few wet kisses along his neck before sinking your teeth. the bite is entirely playful, but his abs clench tightly against you and he sucks in a breath.

the couch is creaking loudly from the ferocious and aggressive way you’re riding him, hips slamming into his without a single concern for how sensitive he is from prior orgasms. uncharacteristic whines pour from his lips along with heaving pants of your name as kento frantically searches for purchase on your hips.

“what’s wrong, kento?” you purr, kissing away the drool from the corners of his lips. he’s got hearts in his eyes from the chaste action; the dichotomy between the sweetness and nastiness is so overwhelming . . kento’s fingers dig into the plush skin at your hips as he tries to stop you.

“n-no need to go so fast. let me guide you instead, princess,” but he’s really just trying to save himself the embarrassment of cumming again and sobbing from the overstimulation.

kento’s neck absorbs the soft moans you let out as he moves your hips at a much slower, languid pace. “fuck, ken, ‘s good . . little faster, please?”

he tugs his lower lip between his teeth. “be patient. just keep your eyes on me, angel.”

“but it - it’s not enough,” and your hips increase, returning to the beginning of your wild pace. the loud squelching sound of your pussy and the smacks of skin against skin drown out whatever he says next, but he seems to accept it. his cheeks are flushed and his face is covered in a sheen of sweat, and although he’d been desperate for reprieve earlier he’s accepting being ridden like a horse now.

each drag of your sticky cunt on his cock pulls plenty of sound from the both of you. this is the first time you’ve ever ridden his cock—first time anyone has ever—and all of his concerns are melting away as he fully submits to you. to your cunt—he’s completely pussydrunk.

“shit, angel,” he swallows, body bowing forward as he presses his face into your chest, allowing your tits to smack against his cheeks. “i-i’m gonna cum again—i don’t think i can anymore after this, you’ll have to—”

you tilt his chin upwards and connect your lips to his, swallowing the sounds he makes as he comes undone. you can only tremble as his cock throbs inside you, and his head falls against you weakly after he lets out a choked groan.

“ken, feels so fucking good,” you sob, fingernails raking over the taut muscles of his back. those marks will sting tomorrow under his suit, a sultry reminder of you. his breaths come in harsh pants against your skin, and he makes no move to pull away as you ride him to completion.

you’re sore, and the room is hot and smelling of nothing but sex, but you’re too close to stop. there’s no need to give a warning as your cunt spasms on him, squeezing his cock so hard he’s pushed out of you. the loss of fulfillment makes you hiss, and you nudge him lightly, helping him sit back.

kento has passed out — he’s quite literally fucked out, eyes closed and all as his chest rapidly rises and falls. of course, his swollen cock still stands at attention between his legs, tip prodding against you.

FUSHIGURO TOJI # is freakier

“run that by me again, doll. i dare ya.”

toji’s voice is low and deep as it rumbles from his chest, his raspy demand sending a hot rush of excitement right between your legs. “t-toji,” is all you can squeak out, legs spreading weakly as he tosses them to the side to make more room. “i-i said, i can’t keep going—”

fushiguro toji was not a patient man, nor was he someone who tolerated quitting or giving up in any kind of way, regardless of the situation. the idea of you attempting to tap out this early after teasing him all fucking day truly flipped a switch in his brain. it honestly set him off, like a spark of fire to a stick of dynamite.

“aw, just shut up, baby,” toji twists a hand into your hair and yanks your head backwards, leaning close to savor the sight of your arched back as well as to speak directly into your ear. his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, making the skin hotter. “ya really thought that’d work? after all that shit you pulled today?”

“i didn’t mean to get you so worked up—” a nip to your earlobe silences you immediately, and a moan slips from between your lips, betraying the genuineness of your request.

“listen to you . . ya want to get fucked like a whore, isn’t that right?” toji hisses, rocking his hips forward and nudging his cock deeper in your tight cunt. the sensitivity is killer, but toji doesn’t care about that—it’s simply an excuse.

“you deserve this, dollface. can take one more, can’t you?”

with your hair wrapped around his fist, back forced into an arch, legs spread wide, there’s no other way you can answer him besides saying yes. always testing the waters with him, but toji would amp it up and have you crying by the time it was all over.

you let your head hang, lifting your hips to help him out; the sound of slick bodies smacking against one another coupled with his heavy panting is enough to have you whining his name, tears streaking down your cheeks. your hand slips between your legs to rub at your swollen clit since you know he’s too annoyed to do it for you.

behind you, toji arches a brow but says nothing, opting to fuck you harder. his heavy balls slam into your fingers, messing up your movements—but are they really? the impact adds a new, chaotic element to your pleasure, making you moan louder.

“fuckkk,” toji tosses his head back, beads of sweat rolling down his temples and forehead as a familiar ache in his side grows from all the exertion. “i can’t hear ya, doll . . make some noise for me.”

ever the mind reader—the words were on the tip of your tongue before his comment. “k-keep going—wanna cum for you, toji, please!”

he lets out a snicker, using his free hand to gift your ass with an especially harsh smack. “not just yet, got that? you’ll cum when i say so, doll face.”

KAMO CHOSO # matches you

“h-harder, oh my—fuck.” choso’s voice cracks at the end of his sentence, eyebrows knitting together as tears gather at the corners of his eyes. he cradles you close to his body, hands splayed on your shoulder blades as he savors the feeling of your own wrapped around his neck.

“i didn’t know you’d like this,” you say, kissing away the tears from his eyes and brushing the stray hairs from his face.

“you’re always asking me to c-choke you,” choso grunts, eyes rolling back deliciously as his cock twitches inside you.

it was true. he’d finally gotten curious enough to ask you why you enjoyed having his hands wrapped around your neck during your sexual experiences together. he’d always been interested to learn more about your kinks and interests, regardless of whatever it was. sometimes it’s a hit or miss, but oftentimes . . he enjoys letting you take the lead and show him how you like it.

you’re seated on his lap, cock buried deep and somehow not soft despite his prior orgasms, many of which are leaking from your cunt onto his thighs. choso’s never been afraid to get messy, as evidenced by the dried spit covering the bite marks and hickeys all over your neck.

“you look perfect like this, cho,” you coo, words sounding extra honeyed to his oxygen deprived brain. “you’re sure this isn’t too tight?”

ever the masochist, he nods, tilting his head to the side and offering the tender skin of his jaw and neck for you to mark up. you accept choso’s invitation, hands loosening as you pepper kisses along his sweaty skin.

he smells like his nice, soft shampoo mixed with your perfume. you can feel his racing pulse beneath your lips, and he savors the way you smile against his skin before nipping at it.

“ah, baby,” choso moans, hair slipping into his face again, “need you to—need you to ride me.”

“anything for you,” is your loving reply, spoken into the softness of his cheek, which is flushed a dark red. you rock your hips against his, hands loosening again as you indulge in the delicious sensation of being full. because of your movements, more cum pools on his thighs, hot and sticky from being inside you for so long.

“i’m..” choso gulps, an uncontrollable whimper slipping from his throat to interrupt him. “‘m gonna cum—t-take all of it for me, please baby.”

“mhm,” you moan into his neck, the fresh bite marks sticky with spit as they press against your lips. “give it to me, cho. a-all of it . . everything.”

choso cums to your words. his cock spurts ribbons of white inside you, so deep you wonder how long it’ll take to pour out, and his head falls back, entirely spent. his breaths come in heaving puffs, face flushed and sticky with sweat, but he still manages to look at you.

exhausted, he pants, “you didn’t cum, did you?”

you shake your head with a small smile, fingers grazing over where you’d been gripping his neck. “‘s okay, you’re pretty tired. maybe later?”

deep inside, you hope choso will offer to get you off anyway. a lovesick, dazed grin spreads across his lips and he lightly nudges you backwards.

“come on, lay on your back for me.”

“why, cho? you’re exh—”

choso shushes you, pushing you back more insistently. “i want to make my pretty girl cum on my tongue. lay down, please?”

[sweetlovepascal]

caught mid-cum

pairings joel miller x sunshine!reader

summary joel takes a polaroid of you half-naked in his lap then another, and another while you're riding him, his cock buried deep inside as he fucks you slow and possessively.

tags 18+ minors dni, explicit smut, established relationship, possessive/soft joel, photo kink, oral (f receiving), creampie, riding, praise, mild dirty talk, emotional intimacy, post-outbreak setting, emotional smut, mutual consent, domestic setting, porn with feelings, slow and intense sex.

note this is a follow-up to part one and can be read as a standalone. i recommend reading part one first for the full emotional build-up and context. your media consumption is your responsibility.

masterlist

part 1

joel sits beside you on the couch, one arm draped across the back, his other hand resting on your thigh. he’s been watching you in that slow, intense way he does. his eyes trace your face, your mouth, your collarbone where the blanket has slipped down just slightly.

you catch the flicker in his eyes when he glances toward the table.

the polaroid camera is still there.

your heart skips.

he sees the shift in your expression. curious, maybe a little daring. then his voice comes, low and rough.

“let me take one of you.”

he pauses. “like this.”

you don’t ask him to explain. you know exactly what he means.

“only if you’re in it with me.”

he leans forward, grabs the camera, and sets it on the arm of the couch, pointing toward where you both sit. he adjusts the angle, checks the light, then looks back at you.

“you sure?” he asks, voice softer now. careful.

you reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. “yeah.”

joel’s breath catches. his eyes sweep across your bare skin like he’s starving. like he’ll never get enough of you.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “fuckin’ breathtaking.”

he kisses you slow, hands roaming your sides and tugging you into his lap. the blanket slips off completely now and pools around your knees.

“you want the picture?” you whisper against his mouth.

joel’s fingers flex against your hips.

“i want all of it, sweetheart. the picture. the moment. you.”

he tilts his head and nuzzles your cheek. “look at me.”

you do.

the first picture clicks. your bare chest is pressed to his, both of you tangled and close, lips almost touching. your eyes are locked on each other. the air is thick with everything unspoken.

the intimacy is startling. it’s soft and wanting, but laced with a tension that’s about to snap.

joel stares at it like it’s a relic. something holy.

you don’t even hear the photo slide out. his mouth is on your chest the moment the shutter goes off. rough whiskers graze your skin as he sucks softly, kisses deeper, hands everywhere at once.

your breath hitches when he presses his hips up into you, grinding slow and hard through denim. one of his hands slips between you, fingers undoing your jeans with practiced ease. hungry and unhurried.

“c’mon,” he murmurs. “let me see you.” he pushes your jeans down, dragging your underwear with them. then his hand is between your thighs.

you gasp. more from the way he looks at you than from the slow curl of his fingers.

“you’re drippin’ for me, baby. that camera’s not gonna do this justice.”

joel watches your chest rise and fall, your thighs twitching open wider as his fingers glide through the wetness between your legs.

he could stay like this, watching you come apart under just his hand. but he wants more. needs it.

he leans forward and eases you gently onto your back across the couch cushions. his hands slide under your thighs and spread them apart with a reverent kind of hunger.

you look down at him, breath catching. one arm bent behind your head, the other resting just above your stomach.

he sees the trust in your eyes. the want. then joel’s mouth is on you.

he licks a long, slow stripe through your folds and groans low in his chest like he’s tasting something forbidden. his tongue moves with purpose. broad strokes, then tight, teasing circles around your clit.

one hand stays anchored on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin. the other is flat across your stomach, holding you down when your hips start to rise.

“fuck,” you whisper, voice breaking.

joel grins against you and sucks gently just once right where you’re most sensitive. your legs twitch. his beard scratches your inner thighs, his mouth warm and wet and relentless.

he moans again, louder this time, like he’s the one being undone.

“you taste like heaven, sweetheart,” he mutters, voice wrecked. lips glistening as he glances up at you. “could stay down here all night.”

your fingers curl into his hair and tug. your whole body’s shaking now.

flushed, wild, so goddamn beautiful it makes his chest ache.

he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. his tongue stays steady and precise, dragging you up and over the edge with devastating ease.

“please, joel,” you pant. “i want—”

you cry out, clenching hard around nothing, your whole body trembling. the orgasm crashes through you, fast and sharp and overwhelming.

joel groans like he feels it too, like your pleasure belongs to him.

only when your hips start to twitch away from the overstimulation does he finally pull back. his mouth is wet, lips slick with you, eyes dark and proud as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“goddamn,” he breathes. “that’s the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.”

you’re boneless beneath him, flushed and panting. joel leans over to kiss you—slow and deep, letting you taste the wreckage of yourself on his tongue.

he rises over you again, gripping your waist as you pull yourself back into his lap. your chest is still heaving, your body trembling from his mouth. he kisses you hard and lets you taste yourself on his tongue.

then he grabs the camera again, rougher this time. he positions it and angles the lens. his cock strains against his jeans, painfully hard now.

“hold onto me.”

your arms wrap around his shoulders, thighs spread wide across his hips.

the second picture clicks.

it will show your face glowing, your skin still damp with sweat, your eyes half-lidded and wrecked from release. his mouth at your throat. your bodies flushed together. all of it—real and raw, like something pulled straight from a dream.

you’re already trembling in his lap. the aftershocks of his mouth still echo through your limbs. but it’s not enough. not for him. not for you.

joel shifts, rough with urgency now, dragging his jeans down far enough to free his cock. he’s flushed and hard, the head glistening with precum, heavy against his stomach.

you straddle him again, still open and slick from the way he devoured you. when you sink down on him, slow and deep, he lets out a low, guttural sound that punches right through your chest.

“fuck,” he groans. both hands grip your ass, holding you still as he fills you inch by inch. “jesus, baby… you take me so good. always do.”

you’re straddling him now, legs spread wide around his hips, his cock buried deep inside. the firelight casts a golden halo across your skin, flickering off every curve and line of your body.

you start to move. slow at first, grinding down with long, aching rolls of your hips. the stretch of him hits just right every time.

joel’s eyes are locked on you. reverent and starved. like he’s trying to memorize everything at once.

your chest bounces with each motion. soft and full, catching the firelight in a way that has joel swearing under his breath.

he drags one hand up your waist, over your ribs, and cups one breast in his palm like it’s something he’s been aching to hold.

“sweetheart,” he mutters. his thumb brushes over your nipple, watching it pebble beneath his touch.

“you look…” his voice breaks off, too breathless to finish.

your breath hitches as he leans forward. his mouth closes around your breast, sucking deep, his tongue hot and slow against your skin. the angle makes you arch back, hands braced on his thighs, hips grinding harder into him.

joel groans and pulls back just enough to look up at you. his eyes are wide, his lips slick.

“you gotta see yourself,”

rough and hoarse. he reaches for the camera, never pulling out, never letting you go. he steadies it with one hand while his other anchors at your waist.

“keep movin’, baby,” he says, voice thick. “just like that.”

the third picture clicks.

neither of you flinch. you’re too wrapped in each other. the photo slides out with a mechanical whir, forgotten for now.

you brace both hands on his chest, grounding yourself as you move. slow grinds that make his breath hitch and his fingers dig into your skin.

“look at you,” he whispers. awe creeps in behind the heat. “ridin’ me like you’re made for it.”

your body pulses around him at the words. he feels it and groans at itand meets your rhythm with upward thrusts.

each one hits deeper, rougher, sweat slicking where your skin meets.

the photo begins to develop on the arm of the couch, curling at the corners.

your thighs are splayed around him, skin flushed and glowing in the firelight. your hips caught mid-motion. his cock buried inside you, visibly thick and glistening. your breasts bounce with each thrust, one caught mid-air in motion, the other soft and flushed from his touch. your head is tilted slightly back, lips parted, your expression soft but undone. his hands grip your hips tight. his jaw is clenched, eyes staring up at you like he’s praying.

it’s raw. obscene. unfathomably intimate.

but right now, the only thing he’s focused on is you. your sounds, your heat, your hands twisting into his hair when the thrusts go deeper.

“joel,” you whisper, desperate now. you fall forward, forehead to his, breath mingling. “i’m close again—”

“then give it to me,” he pants, voice wrecked.

“wanna feel you come on my cock, baby. wanna feel every fuckin’ second.”

you shatter around him, moaning his name like a prayer. your walls clench hard. your whole body goes taut and trembling.

joel groans, deep and broken, and thrusts up into you with one last grind before he’s coming too. he fills you, holding you still while he spills deep inside.

for a long moment, the only sound is the rain. the soft crackle of the fire. your breathing.

joel wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck.

then he shifts, gently.

he slides the photo beneath the cushion, lips brushing your temple.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the edge.

you glance at it over his shoulder. your body still twitches with aftershocks, and you laugh—hoarse, breathless.

“you’re the one who took it.”

“that one’s mine,” he says. “but i’ll keep it close.”

you nuzzle into his chest, spent and warm.

“next time,” you whisper, “you’re the one underneath the camera.”

joel nods softly and wraps his arms tighter around you.

the fire has burned low. outside, the rain still whispers against the windows. softer now. like it’s falling asleep too.

you’re curled up against joel on the couch, half-draped in a blanket. one of his arms is slung heavy around your shoulders. your bare legs are tangled with his. the smell of smoke and skin still hangs thick in the air.

for a long time, neither of you speak.

just the steady rise and fall of his chest. the quiet press of his lips to your temple. his hand running slow and idle down your spine, like he’s memorizing the shape of you all over again.

eventually, your voice breaks the silence. soft. sleepy.

“you really gonna keep that picture under the cushion?”

joel huffs a quiet breath. “damn right i am.”

you lift your head to look at him, eyebrow raised. “what if someone finds it?”

his hand stills on your back.

“ain’t nobody sittin’ on that couch but me and you,”

there’s a beat of silence. then his voice drops, low and dangerous.

“and if someone does find it, they won’t see the light of day again.”

you blink. half startled. half… aroused.

“joel.”

“i mean it.” his eyes lock with yours. dark. possessive. no trace of humor.

“that picture’s mine. you—you’re mine. ain’t lettin’ anyone else look at you like that. don’t care who it is.”

a flush creeps up your neck. heat pools low in your belly. you press your palm to his chest and feel the steady thrum of his heart under your hand.

“you think i want someone else seein’ you with my cock buried in you, mouth open, lookin’ like you’re gonna break for me?” he says. his voice is rough with possessive heat.

“no, baby. you're mine.”

your breath catches. the way he says mine. not just the word, but the meaning behind it makes your skin prickle.

“you were so beautiful,” he says. like the thought has been sitting heavy on his tongue. “still is.”

you go quiet. your heart kicks up in your chest.

“you looked at me,” he says, voice low. “right before the shutter clicked—like nothin’ else in the world mattered.”

you glance up at him again. watch the way his eyes trace your face gentle now. open in that rare way he lets you see.

“there isn’t,” you say simply.

joel swallows hard. his arm tightens around you. you feel his next breath shudder out against your skin.

“i love you,” you say, quieter now.

joel stills.

then he’s kissing you again slow and deep and grateful, like those words undid something in him.

“i love you too,” he says against your mouth. “so goddamn much it hurts.”

you smile, your chest full. warm and aching all at once.

“i like when you get like this.”

he grunts and shifts slightly beneath you.

“you’re lucky i’m too fuckin’ tired, or i’d show you how serious i am.”

you smirk, nuzzling your face into his neck. “you already did.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, finally softening again. the tension eases back into warmth. his lips brush your temple.

“i’ll move the picture,” he says after a moment. “somewhere safer. closer. ain’t riskin’ it.”

“where?” you whisper.

he thinks for a beat, then grins into your hair. “under my pillow. that way if i wake up, i can still see you ridin’ me.”

you groan and slap his chest, laughing.

“joel!”

he just grins harder. smug now. arms tight around you.

“told you—you’re mine.”

you lean up to kiss him. slow. sweet. steady.

joel hums, satisfied. he tucks you back against him like he’s anchoring you there for good.

then he pulls the blanket back up over both of you and kisses your shoulder. like the subject’s settled.

because it is.

it’s you. it’s him.

[holeforzenin]

A/n wrote this at 5am so I apologize for any errors! <3 also it's poorly written but I hope you guys still like it.

Yk what fucking drives me crazy the most?

Sweet innocent looking men that treats you so well, I'm talking like he writes you cute poems, follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy and gets all flustered and shy when you want to go to Victoria secret to get new bras and panties but he still goes in with you anyways with his hand clinging onto your arm instead of just leaving because anything for you!!. The way his face melts into your hand whenever you'd cup his cheeks, looking at you with those innocent puppy dog eyes then he places a gentle kiss on your hand. Like he's just such a cutie you know? He'd let you do his makeup and let you baby him and feed him. Literally just anything you want he'd do it and lets you do. Whatever makes you happy.

And that same sweet innocent guy would have you against the wall, his strong arms holding you up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he slams his hips against you, each thrust pushing you higher and higher against the wall as he let you drop back down on his fat cock after, and he's even noisier than you are, loud whimpers and groans escaping his lips as he stares at your face, feeling satisfied and happy that his thick cock is the reason for your cute fucked out expression and sweet moans that are like music to his ears. Your nails leaving long red marks on his shoulders and back that he's sooo proud of having, he loves it when you do that, it's like a reward to him for making you feel good. His big strong arms pressing your legs back even further up so your knees raised up by your shoulders, giving him a deeper angle as his cock brushed against the right spots inside you that made you see stars to the point where you can't even think straight.

"O-oh fuck! baby, need you to cum ple-ase, fuck! please, wanna see you make a mess on my cock please I'm begging you princess", his voice cracks as he whimpers it out to you. The sweet and innocent needy tone in his voice compared to his rough pounding like he fucking hates you and had to prove it was all it took for you to cream around him, nails digging deeply into his back as he's practically making out with your neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh, leaving a bunch of purple and red marks that's definitely going to make him all fluttered and shy when he sees them in a few hours, remembering about what happened earlier. His eyes rolling back when he feels you coating his cock with your cream and dripping all over him.

"Ngh! Oh fuck, Tha-nk you! Thank you so much, gon-na cum!". He cries out. Your toes curling as he sped up his pace, hammering his cock in a reckless pace into your poor cunt, his thick cock head kissing your cervix with each one of his deep thrusts as he greedily chases his orgasm. He made sure to have his cock so deep inside of you to the hilt so he can fill you up full of his cum as he painted your tight walls white, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock, stuffing your hungry cunt full as he lets out a shaky groan while planting his face in your neck. He starts breathing heavily, panting against your neck as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. And you know what? He slowly pulls it out of you, being sooo careful that he doesn't spill any cum as he grips on your thighs even tighter before getting on his knees and eating all of his cum out of your filthy stuffed cunt like the good boy he is, after all its his mess and well, yours also but he doesn't mind! he just wants to make it easier for you to clean you know? :(

Choso, Izuku, Armin,Yuuta, Zentisu, Kirishima, Yuuji, Kaneki, Toge.

[carebearbussy]

ᥫ᭡ thinking about heian era! sukuna having a heavy breeding kink, seemingly out of nowhere.

you bring up a mere idea at dinner, the conversation quickly turning normal, to you bringing up an idea he had never given a second thought to.

"do you ever want kids with me, 'kuna?"

you would ask him, innocently enough, a sickeningly sweet tone hidden beneath your words. but you would already know the answer to this question. he would look up at you, then back down at his food, annoyance pondering his mind. eating a slab of salmon sashimi, he took a bite, chewing slow enough to hint at his potential answer. placing down his chopsticks, he would look back up at you, scoffing to himself at your foolish inquiry.

"those small, annoying humans that require too much attention for their own good? no thank you, i have better things to attend to."

he says, focusing on the meal before him. but his thoughts soon get the best of him. and now that he thinks about it, he will need an heir eventually. and not only that, but what would you be like? as a mother specifically. you would require more attention than most of the time. which was something he secretly enjoyed indulging in, despite his negative reasoning towards infants. how would you look?

you would be more swollen than usual, you stomach would grow larger by day, your breasts will most definitely become more full by the day. the bigger picture, which was you, enticed him in a way. something about seeing you round with his child really had his head going.

and so thats how you ended up here, you knees tightly locked against your stomach, as sukuna absolutely plows into your already stuffed cunt.

this was the seventh time? eighth time? at this point, you couldn't keep track. but he had came wayyyy too many times more than an average man should be able to. it was excruciating, really, the whimpers leaving your mouth, his hands bringing your knees closer to your chest with every move of his hips.

his seed was leaking out of you, glop by glop, dripping down your bottom even more, as he kept going harder and rougher. splashes of your juices paired with his cum stained the bed, the squelching of your pussy becoming deafening with every smack of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass. and the tight grip he had on your locks wasn't helping his case.

"hah, you're gonna give your king his offspring? yeah? r' you gonna be a good little mother f'me? make me an heir?"

he asks, your head barely able to focus on anything other than trying to stay sane. you felt sooo full, but this apparently wasn't enough for sukuna, or his heavy urges to breed your sloppy cunt. you nod eagerly, not wanting him to go any harder than he already has. but with the way he kept abusing your womb, it seemed like you were enjoying it, as sukuna relishes in your facial expression, your eyes rolling back, your mouth hung open wide enough to stuff two of his free fingers in.

"you'd be such a good mother, so obedient too. you wanted to rile me up, didn't you? i'll give you what you want, woman."

moaning into his fingers, you swirl your tongue around his digits, making him hum contently. you try to focus your vision onto his eyes, but the way he pushed his chest further into yours, had you practically cross eyed. hitting a new angle, you felt yourself completely let go, officially adding onto your list of orgasms you had previously had that night.

he released his fingers from your mouth, a coat of your saliva stringing upon release. he ceases to pull out of you, instead letting himself nuzzle nicely into your warmth, releasing yet again inside of you, earning a whine of complaint on your behalf. he playfully slaps your cheek with his wet hand, trailing it down to your pussy, playing in the ring of his semen around his cock. you squirm slightly, as you watch him then bring his cum coated fingers up to your mouth, pushing them back inside your mouth, making you taste his seed, some of his cum pooling around your lips.

"does that taste good? i bet it does, since you seem to love my seed so much. i cant wait to see you so full, besides from right now, of course."

[rinnstars]

youre my world!

in which they accidentally reveal your relationship to the public (and confirms it)

bllk boys x reader (reo, nagi, rin, sae,): fluff, crack, pro-athletes bllk boys, drabbles, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!

reo mikage:

sometimes, contrary to what reo believes, he’s simply impulsive and childish in the face of love - excitedly posting a story of you and him at your favourite cafe, beaming at the way your hands merged with him so well - so well that he posted it to his main public account associated with both mikage corporation and his soccer career in manshine city where everyone witnessed it up for 12 hours before he wakes up to his PR calling him freaking out. to be honest, he thinks it shouldn’t be such a big deal right? its not as if the media hasn’t speculated over his relationship status for months now - from every little jewellery that fits perfectly onto his wrist, neck and fingers, from every visits to designer clothes store, to designer jewellery store, to designer shoe stores bringing out huge shopping bags that make his frame look petite in comparison, from every single photo he posts on his feed that they scruntised from the angle, to the place, to the clothes that seem to belong to a matching set somewhere somehow. its expected some thinks - he’s rich, he’s got a decent career, he’s charming both in looks and personality publicised in front of television for many to swoon over, there’s no way he isn’t taken just yet. but now, the focus that he’s so used to shifts to you, who’s only half a face is revealed but has gathered just as much attention a selfies he posts on social media at the request of his managers. and perhaps he now feels it - the jealousy that runs green at his heart as if its always been there tugging at the red muscle, and suddenly all he wants to do is to keep you in his treasure chest of things only he can have, keep you caged in his warm embrace like after practice forever, keep you safe away from the public side of the world that he’s practically born to face. but right at the same time, he wishes nothing more than to parade you in front of the world that he’s sure he loathes secretly in his heart, to share with the world of hte blessing that the world has given him in the bitter and harsh world, to express his love in the way he knows how to.

he thinks it was fate that he accidentally posted it on the wrong account, and who is he to go against the universe that have led you to him in this lifetime. and so, he posts a photo dump of you and him right on his main account - filled with pictures gathered and kept by him in his phone in a folder, whether that be a picture of you eating that sugary-sweet treat that he can still taste from the kiss he shared with you right after that photo, picture of you with him right after his first ever win in his career beaming ear-to-ear hat he looks at like its his lucky charm till this day, picture of you and him wearing that matching chikawa pajama at his apartment studying late into the night together for your finals together. and next time the reporter asks him, he doesn’t hesitate to profess his love of you to the world as though he’s waited his entire life to confess it out to the world.

nagi seishiro:

nagi seishiro is practically on the hunt list by paparazzis - infamously hard to capture on film not because of his bright white hair that seems to avoid flashes but rather that he rarely goes out of his apartment - and when he does, does the paparazzi goes crazy especially when he leaves his house on a blue moon, hands tangling with someone else’s. to him, it was just another day - dragged by you to go to wherever you want for the day that you surely deserve after sleeping over at his place for the past few days cramming for your assignments and whatnot in a quiet environment that just so happens to be his room whilst he lazes around in his bed playing his game with his earphones on glancing at you unbeknownst to you. it was supposed to be just another lunch date just like any others you’ve been with him, wearing whatever to go to your nearby cafe that practically recognises you and nagi and hides you at the corner booth where he first confessed to you out of pure impulse after seeing you chat excitedly about your interest with such passion he can’t help but feel his heart skip multiple beats at once. and yet here you both are giggling at the edits and theories his fans have came up with in defence against a dating rumour as you two lie on his bed, body practically melted together, limbs tangled with his — whether that be deeming you as his little sister that hes strangely close to, to deeming the photo as a breach of privacy, to deeming the photo as straight up edited. he thinks its sort of funny, isnt it clear you two are clearly together romantically? with his hands wrapped around yours that fits just right like a puzzle piece fitting into one another. his eyes glancing at you as though youre his entire world, his smile that rarely appears on his face as he listens to another of your passionate chats.

and he supposes he must be a pretty passive or straight up bad partner when on his next win, a reporter asks about you in such a demeaning and insulting way that ticks his brain the wrong way. he thinks its too much of a bother to get fired up, he thinks its useless to get all upset and red in the face, he thinks its only fools that let their emotion overtake them — yet its against that comment that he suddenly stands up that surprises his members, the reporters around and even the crowd, his mouth leaning onto the microphone that for the first time speaks of something other than mediocre and uninterested responses but the same passionate tone that he thinks you must be rubbing off him, announcing your relationship with him with nothing but love and pride in his voice. and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t regret it and its no bother to defend you to the world - its you and him against the world anyways.

itoshi rin:

all of this started simply because of rin’s first win in the world cup - pulling at the promise ring attached to his necklace to kiss in celebration that went trending on social media. its not uncommon for football players to celebrate on field or have lucky charms - but for fans to see the logical and detached itoshi rin to indulge in such superstitious habits is unnerving, completely out of character of the cool and calm player that practically overwhelms the field completely. he doesn’t think much of it, youre his lucky charm anyways - every game he makes sure to kiss that polaroid of you that he took of you badly with your new digicam that is slightly blurry and slightly way too bright but he kisses that beam of yours anyways, every game he makes sure to hear that voice message of you wishing him luck in that cheery tone that just makes him replay it over and over until time is up and he practically runs out to the field for the game, and every game he makes sure to dedicate each and every step. kick, turn all to you. he doesn’t get why the reporters keep asking him the same old question - “are you dating someone?” the answer is obviously yes, but that doesn’t mean he can say it - whether it be due to his PR manager, whether that be due to not wanting the media in his personal life, whether that be simply to protect you from the spotlight. its irritating, standing under that spotlight as questions gets thrown at him again and again - all he can think about is you on the stand still waiting for him probably getting cold from the harsh and ruthless wind that your sweater might not be able to keep you warm despite it all, all he can think is the congratulationary kiss you give him after each game that melts both yours and his lips together that makes his entire face go uncharacteristically bright red and his eyes go wide, all he can think about is you so close to running off mid interview again like hes a spoiled child throwing a tantrum as the media described it just to see you a little earlier and spend a little more time with you rather than these irrelevant people. really, not even the harsh critics by the media and fans that compares him to a clone of his brother that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, not even his PR manager’s scoldings and nagging can deter him from running away from all of these to you, and hell hes sure not even if the world ended right in front him right now would he hesitate before running with all hes ever known, even faster than he runs during these matches to get to you, to at least kiss you once last time before you two turn into mash like those zombie movies that perhaps have gotten a little too into his head.

and he ticks his tongue again at that same question. are you dating someone? he sees you from the corner of his eye, walking away from the venue likely going to his car to get some warmth at least, and he cant stand to see you walk alone and so it leaves before he realises. “yes.” one word before he runs as though he’s back right into another life-or-death situation on the field. runs as though that is his only way of salvation, runs as though hes chasing after world - you. and its with you he thinks that he loses that logical and cold persona that everyone forces on him - because with you, hes just itoshi rin, your boyfriend and not any of the names the media and the world wants to throw on him whether positive of negative.

itoshi sae:

every time he goes back to japan, he swears his luck goes all the way down - first time where he goes home and finds out that his middle school had closed down where he went there the morning after, second time where he realises the convenience store he goes to closed down for the very week he was staying, and third time where he finds a photograph of him buying a ring for you going viral online. and he finds out when he sees you giggling hunched over on the other side of the red. his right side feels awfully ice cold without your arms wrapping around his body drooling in your sleep that he’s much more used to. if anything, he’s more surprised that youre awake - he doesn’t know what time it is, a stark contrast to him in spain that’s practically like a robot to the way he automatically wakes up at six on the dot and automatically does his exercise routine on auto pilot - all he knows is that its certainly too early for you to be leaving his side to laugh at god knows what. its only in your apartment that he gets to act all grumpy as though he’s back to been thirteen sleeping over at your house where he spends the night completely awake at your tight embrace on him as though he’s your plushie that’s now on the floor abandoned for his warmth and wakes up completely sleep-deprived that’s remedied by your bright grin. he doesn’t hesitate to turn a little to your side and snake his hands around your waist, his hands fitting right with your body, earning a flinch from you from his ice cold hands that contrasts with your warmth. its only then he realises his surprise has been completely spoiled - its not the only thing the media has pretty much put a dent in his life, constant comparison that drove a wedge deeper into him and his brother relationship, flip-flopping between praise and criticism of each and every of his gameplay on the field that makes him secretly doubt his own self that he doesn’t wish to admit, and now spoiling a surprise he was excited thinking of spending the two of your life together for the rest of eternity. your laugh clears any of the black cloudy joke that hazes over his mind with negative thoughts of self doubt, of insecurities, of irrational fear in your eyes, you don’t hesitate to hold him in your embrace, turning him back to his previous sleeping position - away from your phone, away from any distraction, away from the outside world. and he knows, he knows, even with that surprised spoiled, he’s sure you might just say yes to the diamond ring he still has kept in a dark red box right in his luggage tonight for a home-cooked dinner.

and he supposes he can give the media a glimpse of his life once in a while, playing the disappearance act for a few months as per usual before he posts a photo of you and him - draped in white cloth surrounded by white flowers with you and his friends and family at the side away from the camera, draped in jewelleries that he’s surprising not well-known to in the media that’s picky about the picture-perfect facade of itoshi sae that they have long decided on, draped in each others tugging at each other with nothing but love between both of you. in this world, its you and him whether or not with the media included or not, but he can’t help but to show you off to the world his angel can he?

[screampied]

if requests are open, can we see nanami x breeding kink? i know he would be the perfect daddy 💕

❤︎ ໋𓈒 husband nanami finding out he has a breeding kink.

warnings. fem! reader, mating press, breeding kink, praise, soft dom nanami, mdni.

breeding.

he wouldn’t even know he had such a kink until afterwards, finishing inside of you for about the third time with hot puffs of air running from his lips.

his eyes, dark brown pools that intently stared into yours, he’s in utter love with you and only you. your current position was supine—your legs would be perfectly sprawled and spread for him. mating press, such a deep and thorough angle. so deep to where you were practically seeing stars.

“… you drive me crazy, you know that?” he’d huff out lowly between rough breaths. you stare at him with glossy eyes, a hand softly clinging onto his wrist. he was always so gentle, deep yet precise strokes to make you feel every inch. such eyebrows of his curl up and furrow as he intakes a single sharp breath, the feeling of such thick ropes spewing inside your walls makes him groan. “always s—so good at milking me.”

sloppy hips thwack and drill into you, and that’s when he leans right up close to you—you’re met with lust filled fawn eyes and a needy smile.

“ah. eyes up here, wanna see that pretty face,” and his tempo was so unhinged. you glance up at him and he mutters off a soft, “hi my love,” and you could have just melted right there. nanami lightly presses a hand against your tummy, a thumb swiftly tracing near the exact spot where he was reaching you inside. so full, you moan before he leans in to kiss you, yet instead, he conceals his own whine into the crook of your neck. “this—tummy would look so pretty if it was nice ‘n round for me like last time.”

the very corners of your lips tugs, it outlines into a sweet pout before you whimper, “make me fuller then, kento,” you’d heave out. he was jackhammering such merciless yet tenderly passionate thrusts into your cunt, effortlessly smacking back against you. “wanna f-feel fuller.”

you had the white bed sheets bawl into the palms of your hands. everything felt so warm, his hips just continued to rotate and jerk and jerk and jerk. it was hypnotic, he knew just where to prod the head of his cock right against you.

you’re nearly drooling. just imagining such lengthy ropes of his pump you full. you wanted it, no—you needed it. desperately, you were practically being fucked into the mattress—the mattress in question creaked and sang in such harmony it was hard not to ignore its sounds.

the entire feeling, you were clamping down on him so tight that his jaw tenses. a simple sight like that was oh so sexy in the slightest, nanami lightly bites down on his lip. a cute flushed expression slowly painting over his face once he catches you still staring. he was chasing his own breath, giving you slow yet perfect full vivacious thrusts.

“k-kento,” you’d moan with a slight gasp, he brings a hand to slide your arms all the way up. it’s almost teasing, the way he makes you hold your hands high, a soft simper rests against his lips the entire time. your legs quaver, feeling how easy it was for him to stretch you out. his touch, it was blisteringly hot, blisteringly tender.

he made sure to delicately trace his fingers all over your skin. he wouldn’t dare miss a spot. not with a body as perfect as yours. that’s what he saw in his eyes anyway. “so—so goooood, don’t s-stop baby.”

“wasn’t gonna,” he huffs out, and his voice was so raspy and rich. a subtle coarse of baritone hidden underneath his deep tone. you peer up at him and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. “if my princess wants to feel more full, i’ll do just that. give her anything she wants.”

you whimper, feeling him hit such a sensitive angle, he hit it just right too.

the crown of his dick made its way through every crevice of your walls. he reached in spots that you didn’t think he’d reach — not at all, you failed to hide your moans by this point and he thought you sounded so cute. knowing he was the one to make you sound like this, feel this way, it made him happy. that’s all he wanted, your pleasure was his pleasure.

every. single. spot.

whilst your toes curled, you feel your back start to seemingly arch on its own before even more sweetened whimpers fly past your sheeny lips. “give m-me,” you started to speak. he raises a brow marginally, brushing a thumb against your lower lip before feeling himself about to bottom out. at that point, he was fully inside, you felt it and you only mewled out a candied, “give me another baby kento. please.”

“oh,” he softly murmurs, and his tongue playfully licks against your neck—a sweet lap, he savored your taste before teasingly starting to nibble.

“gonna give you triplets this time,” and he brings a hand down your chest, then towards your stomach, real slow. you moan once he gingerly lifts up your leg before giving your ankle a kiss. “this what you want, sweetheart? more of this? more of … me?”

“yes,” you pout, feeling your cunt just swallowing his hefty shack, his base smacks back and forth against you to where you’re almost giddy. you felt like you were on cloud nine, nanami’s strokes, his thrusts hell, his enticing rhythm had you nearly speechless. you let off a soft meek once the shivering cold metal of his watch band slithers against your skin.

the more he touched you, the more close you became to making yet another mess on him. of course, like the good husband he was, nanami would happily clean you up.

“y-yes, kento,” you repeat in a honeyed voice, by this point, your legs were well wrapped around his waist. fully having him in a secure lock, not ever thinking to let go, you couldn’t nor did you want to. he drove into your gummy walls so good that you let off the sugared most melodic moans right up against his earlobe. “want…..another baby.”

“i know you do,” he hushes, bringing a chaste kiss towards your collarbone. you swallow a thick imaginary lump that grew into your throat. only tiny squeaks would come out — you moaned, tightening your legs hold around him before you started to picture such fanciful things.

fanciful things like nanami pouring yet another a thick load into you, and as you’re deep in thought he’s doing just that. a gasp gets caught in his lips before he leans up close to you. his broad chest presses up against you before he groans. out of all the notorious enemies he’s had to fight, he was simply no match for your pussy. its grip had him being the one with his eyes nearly rolling back.

“f-fuck,” and you felt yourself throb, making direct eye contact with him. it was rare, yet hearing nanami swear was so infrequent.

it was the way he swore, spewing out such filthy words underneath his breath. long ruffled strands of messy hair nearly occluding his view of vision. he reaches to move some of his hair away from his face, just so he could get a good glimpse of you—a good glimpse of his wife.

“look at me,” he says in a soft tone, he was buried so deep within you, you saw how his muscles tensed and his jaw tightened. he made his hips come to a halt completely before he leans in to gift you with another kiss. “mwah,” he smooches near your jawline, “mwah,” near your chin, and a final kiss near your lips.

your heart, it fluttered.

nanami felt warm all over his body, as well as the sheer warmth that coated him from being inside you. “i—i love you,” you’d whine, feeling such massive velvet ropes of cum going all inside of you. he merely lets off a purr at the way the back of your heel skims down his back. “so much.”

“i love you,” he returns it. his mouth briefly opens, and he was about to say ‘more’ but he pauses. nanami’s weight was still hovering over you before he brings a same big hand down towards your tummy. “now, we wait. you’re such a good mommy for me, sweetheart.”

[viaxslz]

⊞﹑ᶻᶻ﹒⪨﹐ꜛ WHEN YOU STOP DURING A KISS ﹒⁂ꜝ

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 gn!reader, cw: kissing/making out, pet names, slightly suggestive, nothing much not proofread :P

CHAN

He blinks, dazed and breathless, still leaning forward like his lips are chasing yours. “Wait, what— Did I do something? Was it too much? Too fast? Was my nose in the way? I knew I should’ve angled more to the left—” He immediately goes into concerned boyfriend mode, rubbing the back of his neck, rambling nervously with furrowed brows. You can literally see the gears turning in his head trying to figure out if he messed up. When you explain that you just got flustered or wanted to look at him, he MELTS. Like full-on gooey marshmallow mode. “You… pulled away just to look at me?” Cue soft little chuckle, hands cupping your cheeks now, and he kisses your forehead.

LEE KNOW

You pull back mid-kiss, and for a moment, Minho just stares at you. Unmoving. Unblinking. He looks entirely unbothered… until you catch the faintest twitch of his brow. “Wow,” he says flatly. “Did I bore you mid-makeout?” You try to explain maybe you were flustered, or your brain short-circuited, or your stomach made a weird noise but he just squints at you, suspicious. “So you’re telling me I was putting in my best effort, and you just exited the app mid-update?” He looks personally offended for 0.5 seconds. Then smirks. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just go kiss the cat instead. She never pulls away.” (You hear him muttering to Soonie under his breath five minutes later: “At least you appreciate my affection…”) But he does end up pulling you back in, much gentler now, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you ever stop again,” he murmurs, “you better have a damn good reason. Like a meteor. Or Hyunjin screaming.”

CHANGBIN

At first, he’s frozen mid-pucker, lips still slightly parted, eyes blinking like he’s buffering. “…Huh?” He looks around like someone just unplugged his brain, then turns back to you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen. Like a golden retriever who got told “no” for the first time in his life. “You— You just stopped. Was it me? Was I too aggressive? Too soft? Did I miss? Did I kiss your chin again?! I knew I should’ve practiced more—” You try to calm him down, but he’s already spiraling into self-doubt. Even throws his arms out like he’s in a drama scene. “I KNEW THIS DAY WOULD COME. You found someone with softer lips, didn’t you?” When you finally tell him the reason whether it’s you getting shy, needing a breather, or just being caught off guard by how cute he is, he immediately softens. “Oh. You think I’m cute?” Cue him grinning like a kid on Christmas. “Say it again. Say it three more times. Wait no, kiss me again. Right now. We’re finishing what we started.” Then he makes you reenact the kiss properly, “for closure.” (And yes, he absolutely brags about it for the rest of the day like it’s an Olympic sport.)

HYUNJIN

You pull away mid-kiss with zero warning, and Hyunjin just… stares at you. Lips still parted, eyes wide and sparkly with confusion and betrayal. He blinks once. Then twice. “…Did… did you just cancel me?” You try to keep a straight face, but the way he dramatically slumps back against the nearest surface arms flopping like he’s just been dumped in the most poetic way makes it nearly impossible. “Was it not good? Did I go too fast? Too slow? Was I… too pretty?” You: “You’re literally fine.” Hyunjin: “Fine? That’s it?? Not devastatingly handsome? Not kiss-me-right-now worthy? I’m gonna cry.” (He’s not going to cry. But he will roll onto the floor like an offended cat and mutter to himself in vague Shakespearean despair.) But when you admit you were just teasing him, he gasps. “So you played me?!” Cue playful chaos. He tries to act offended, but he can’t stop smiling. He corners you two minutes later, grabbing your waist like he’s about to perform a slow-mo drama scene. “You’re not getting away with that. Try pulling away again and I’ll chase you into next week.” Then kisses you again just to “reclaim his pride.”

HAN

You pull away mid-kiss, and it takes him a second to catch up. His eyes are still half-closed like he’s waiting for the sequel. “…Did the Wi-Fi cut out or something?” You try not to laugh, but he’s already leaning forward like, “Hello?? I was loading. Why did you press back?” When you don’t immediately explain yourself, he clutches his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. “Don’t do this to me. I already have abandonment issues from when my ramen slipped into the sink that one time.” You: “Jisung—” Jisung: “That one time.“ Once you finally admit you were just teasing him, or got distracted, or simply felt like it he flops dramatically onto your lap, face buried in your stomach. “Unfair. You know my brain is slow and my heart is weak. You can’t just hit the brakes like that.” Then he pops his head up, grinning. “But also… if you wanted me to beg, you could’ve just said so.” Cue chaotic, overly dramatic puppy-boy behavior for the next hour. Constantly bringing it up with zero context. “Remember that time you broke my heart during a kiss?” “That was literally ten minutes ago.” “And I’m still healing.” But he forgives you with extra kisses just to “finish what you started.”

FELIX

You pull away mid-kiss, and at first, Felix doesn’t even notice he’s still leaning in with his eyes closed like he’s waiting for the encore. Then he opens one eye. “…Did I miss the cue?” You’re quiet for a second maybe your mind wandered, or you suddenly remembered that you left the laundry in the washer, or you were just overwhelmed by a random intrusive thought like “Do penguins have knees?” Felix tilts his head, trying to read your expression. “Wait… are you okay?” You nod, explaining it’s nothing serious, and that your brain just lagged a little. He chuckles softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “You pulled away like you just got hit by an existential crisis mid-kiss.” (He’s not wrong.) Then he gets serious for a second, gazing at you with those gentle, worried eyes. “You sure everything’s okay though? You don’t have to kiss me if you’re not feeling it. I’m just happy being with you.” You were fine, but now you’re blushing over how sweet he is. Felix gives you a soft smile and taps your forehead. “Next time your brain wanders during a kiss, just tell me what you were thinking. Unless it was about taxes. Then keep it to yourself.” Five minutes later, he texts you a meme of two penguins cuddling. Felix: "They DO have knees btw."

SEUNGMIN

You pull away mid-kiss, and Seungmin immediately blinks at you like you just skipped a line in a script he had memorized. “…That’s it?” Deadpan. Expression unreadable. Hands still resting casually on your waist, like he’s not even pressed about it. “Wow. That was… what? Three seconds? Impressive commitment.” You’re trying to explain maybe your brain short-circuited, maybe you remembered you left your phone on the stove, maybe you just needed a moment. But he’s already shaking his head like a disappointed tutor watching you fail basic math. “I rearranged my entire breathing pattern for that.” You: “You’re being dramatic.” Seungmin: “I trained my lips for days.” You roll your eyes, but he’s already pulling slightly away, crossing his arms like he’s filing a mental complaint. “Don’t worry. I’ll just log it in my diary. ‘Kiss: interrupted. Trust: broken.’ ” But the second you lean in again thinking he might actually be annoyed he’s already pulling you back with a smirk, voice low near your ear. “Next time you pull away, you better give me a good reason. Like your soul leaving your body. Otherwise, I’m finishing what you started.” And even though he acts so chill, later that night he won’t stop smiling to himself. Quietly. When no one’s looking.

JEONGIN

You pull away mid-kiss, all innocent, like you didn’t just commit the ultimate crime against his entire soul. He blinks, stunned. Lips still parted. Offended in 4K. “…Did you just— reject me in HD?” You: “Relax, I’m just teasing.” Jeongin: “Relax? RELAX? You can’t just pause mid-kiss like we’re on a Netflix trial—” He dramatically clutches his chest, spinning away like he’s in a low-budget romance drama. “I trusted you. I gave you my lips. My time. My chapstick. And you do me like this?” You’re wheezing at this point, but he’s not done. He turns back around slowly, finger pointed. “Don’t come crawling back when you want more. This factory is CLOSED.” (Factory reopens 12 seconds later when you give him puppy eyes.) Still, he acts like you have to earn it now. He’s all smug, leaning back like, “I don’t know… should I kiss you again? Are you mentally prepared this time?” But when you finally do kiss him again properly this time he just grins against your lips and murmurs: “Took you long enough. I was literally seconds away from texting Chan that I’ve been emotionally betrayed.”

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor @queenofdumbfuckery @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @my-neurodivergent-world @bookswillfindyouaway

[bootycallin]

BRING IT BACK.

basically; vi, who delivers the most lethal backshots known to man

cw: wlw. men dni. g!p! vi. unprotected sex. doggy. degradation if you squint. swearing. brief spanking. a lil ass play. implied overstimulation? mention of creampie but she cums on ur back lol. vi's down bad. briefly proofread. this is a lil short i'm sorryyy

a/n: can you tell i was excited? anyways, sevika fic coming soon. if you saw this before i apologize, i fucked something up on the formatting and had to redo it.

NSFW UTC

vi is the type of girl that likes seeing your face when you two have sex, for a multitude of reasons. for example, she likes seeing your pretty face twist in pleasure whenever she sheathes her cock fully inside of you, but she also likes keeping the eye contact. it makes sex all the more intimate, and vi prides herself in being a considerate lover. she always wants to make sure you're doing fine, and your expression is a good way of doing that.

but no story has only one side. and, neither do you, and she fucking loves your backside as well.

"shit," she groaned, growled, untamed and feral, giving ravenous, rough thrusts in and out of your sopping hole. barely gives you enough time to even moan, each thrust ripping a gasp from your throat, taking the breath away from your lungs. she's laser-focused on the way your pretty cunt swallows her girth, greedy, clenching around her so fucking tight, like your pussy never wants to let go. one hand on your waist, the other on your ass, landing a hard smack that makes you whine.

"look at that," vi grunted, grabbing at the yielding skin of your ass cheek, admiring the skin plushing between her fingers. never once does she stop, pace unrelenting. "taking my cock so well. so fuckin' pretty, baby... fuckin' love taking me from behind, don't ya? huh, princess?"

she smacks your ass again when you don't respond immediately, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"yes, viii..." you replied, in a strangled mewl, hitching your head to the side to look back at her. and fuck, if she didn't have the most fucking smug face in the face of the planet.

"yeah, fuckin' looove when i hit it from the back, don't you, babe?" vi scoffed. grabbing at your waist tighter so she could pull you back into her cock in time with her thrusts. she was in so deep, the angle making it oh-so easy for her to reach the deepest spots inside you, the tip of her cock kissing your cervix repeatedly, as bruisingly as she would kiss you.

"fuckin' love this pretty ass. shit, look at 'er," her hand just can't seem to stop squishing and squeezing the skin of your ass, running over it, feeling you up. you knew vi liked your body, but you didn't know she was this much of an ass woman.

in her defense, it's such a good angle. she's always noticed your butt, but she doesn't usually focus on it. she likes seeing your face when you fuck, but she could get used to this view. your face down, your ass up, meeting her pelvis with each thrust, how you whine and whimper at the tickle of the little red hairs that trail down her tummy and cover the base of her dick, same hairs that get slowly wetter with your wetness and hers mixing, balls smacking against your clit in a dizzying fashion.

you don't even notice her hand wandering, thumb straying, 'til it's right over your rim, prodding at your puckered hole. you keen, a hitched gasp coming from the back of your throat.

"vi, what the-hah!—"

"shhh," she shushes you, not really even giving you much of a choice but to shut up, another harsh thrust that hit right against your cervix, making you burrow your face into the plush of the bed, you two connected on every level. she starts grinding into you instead, keeping herself as deep as she could, tip practically smushing against your insides.

"it's okay, baby," she muttered, leaning down, her front nearly pressing against your back. "you'll take me, right? please, baby, gonna make you feel sooo good."

how can you deny when she asks so sweetly? a little hum of approval is all she needs to hear.

suddenly she pulls out. a smirk graces her face when you whine, a string of slick and pre connecting your cunt to her cock in a filthy scene.

she spits right on your hole, licks it just to see you squirm. her hand moves to her cock, letting out a shaky sigh as she wipes her thumb over her slit, gathering the pre-cum that built on her tip. when she feels it's enough, she aligns herself with your pussy, her thumb circling your rim. she watches as you wince when she begins dipping her thumb in, pushing her cock inside of your cunt at the same time. the simultaneous movement makes your eyes roll, unconsciously relaxing so she can push her finger in easier.

"viii..." you try to run away, but she keeps you still, grabbing tightly at your hips. you're clenching around her so tight she can barely even move.

"shh... just relax, baby. fuck, you're so tight..."

she nearly moans when your warmth envelops her digit completely. your cunt's fucking strangling her, clenching repeatedly against the base of her cock so tight she swears you're gonna cut circulation.

her next movement are robotic, drawing back from you only to slam right back in, a loud smack reverberating in the room. you swear you can feel her in your guts. she's so deep, her thumb now filling your other hole. you’ve never felt so full, and fuck, you love it.

"vi-iiii,” her name drawls out like string from your throat, the only coherent thought that you're forming being about how good it feels, how good she feels. she's also only thinking about you, about how much she wants to fill you to the brim, fuck you full of her again and again and again until it's engraved in your mind thoughts of her. 'til you're ruined, and it's engrained in that she is the one that fucks you this good, the one fucking you dumb.

"mmh? yeah? i'm listenin', baby," she's teasing. she loves how you get all huffy when she does. she knows you can't speak, not when she's pounding you into the mattress like she wants to mold your pussy for fit her cock. she spreads your ass to get more access, and fuck, the view might just be from heaven. it's obscene and so pretty and so fucking hers.

soon, that familiar knot is forming in your stomach, growing impossibly tighter each thrust. you cry out, hands hopelessly grasping at the bedsheets, your thighs spreading on instinct, back arching. vi tuts behind you, mean.

"nuh-uh," she nearly growled, grabbing your waist and pulling you right back onto her cock with a grunt. "you were beggin' for it, don't run away, you can take it, yeah?"

"vi-ii!!" you let out a pathetic cry, muscle memory only making you bounce right back against her. "shi-shit— s'much..!"

"oh, but you're taking me so well, baby," she praised, but it somehow managed to sound dangerous. vicious. "fuck, pussy's swallowing me up whole. look at her, clenchin' round me, doesn't want to let me fucking go."

her last word's punctuated with a sharp smack to your ass, and oh she relishes in the way you sob, knowing that has to leave a painful sting, which she soothes with her palm.

"vi, close...! 'm- 'm close!"

"me too baby, fuck," she groans, adjusting herself just so she can fuck into you better, her cock moving inside you, tilting at an upwards angle that makes her rub right against that little spot she knows turns your brain to mush. "gonna cum for me, yeah? make a mess, c'mon, c'mon..."

your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, back arching like that of a cat's. if her hand didn't hold you up by the hips, you would've collapsed by now. you're leaking, your cum leaving a creamy white ring around the base of her cock, a vision she wants to be drawn into her grave so she'll never forget it. she groans, her hand lets go of you, letting you lay back down while she supports her weight on her free hand.

"fuck, fuck," she grunts in her own needy way, reminiscent of a dog with how she pants against your back, bending so she could be closer, smelling your hair. shes close, and she only gets closer when she hears your whimpers, hips still smacking against your ass as she chases her own orgasm.

"shit!—"

she finally cums, pulling out just in time to release all on your back, squirting a pretty white string right where your spine sat. she hissed a desperate string of curses, something she does to spare some dignity and not outright moan like a slut (you've told her you like when she moans, but damn it, she's the one with the cock. plus, it's not like you can't hear the whimpers in the back of her throat. not slick, violet).

her face buried into the space between your shoulder blades, she strokes her cock a few more times for good measure, collapsing on top of you when her own legs start shaking and she feels like she’s been milked dry.

you're panting, her weight over your body, sticky skin against sticky skin, sweat and cum mixing. she could care fucking less that your back's covered in her cum, and she's pressing her chest to it. if anything, she likes it. loves how her skin sticks to yours, how she can barely tell where you end and she begins.

"mhm," vi hummed, removing her thumb from your hole, huffing out a little laugh when you whimper. she wraps her big arms around you, hands smoothing over your skin. she leaves a few kisses down the back of your neck, before licking a long line over your spine, scooping up her own cum with her tongue.

"vi—“

before you can ask, she turns you around, kissing you, tongue shoved into your mouth. all you can taste is her, her cum and your sweat and just sex. you have no problem swallowing, much to her pleasure, a dumb, lopsided grin tilting her mouth up.

"let's do that again," she muttered, kissing the slope of her neck. her cock sits heavy on your lower stomach, hard. "wanna cum inside you this time."

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is and forever will be a massive baby.

and it’s all your damn fault, so he says.

you hadn’t even said anything bad. all you'd said was that he looked even more handsome today then he usually did. and he'd looked at you like you grew an extra head, and now he's like this.

you don't even really know what did it, but then again it could've been anything with katsuki. too much eye contact, too long eye contact. your hands lingering a little too long on his face or your fingers rubbing at the crease of his eyebrows.

you don't know what it is but he won't remove his head from your neck now, grumbling about how stupid you are.

"katsukii.."

"shut up." he hisses through gritted teeth like he's angry, and he is. look at what you do to him ! it drives him crazy. you drive him crazy.

yet you giggle, rubbing softly at his hair and he shoves his head into you harder, the angle he's forcing your neck at is awkward but you don't mind, you'll let him have his little tantrum as you stroke his blonde messy tufts of hair tickling your chin.

"all i said was that-"

"i heard you. the first time. shut the fuck up." his grip on your hips tightens to the point you think he'll make indents in your skin. hands practically steaming and boiling hot to show you the embarrassment he refuses to let show on his face. your smirk grows wider, god you love messing with your boyfriend.

"i don't get why you're so angry, baby." you coo sweetly and he growls from the deepest part of his throat. he squeezes at your waist, clearly wanting you to just stop talking. but of course. you don't.

"it's cus you—you fuckin'—" he splutters and cuts himself off, not finding a proper way to convey how much you make his skin burn and prickle and itch. how you have his heart buzz and beat so loud against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. and how much he fucking hates it. (he doesn't)

so he does the next best thing.

"ouch !"

he bites you. the asshole.

you're such an asshat !" you whine, pushing at his shoulders, and he grumbles when he pulls away. he lightly nuzzles against the mark he's left into your skin as a sort of apology, you don't deserve a kiss right now. (he'll give you one later) then he pulls away to look at you.

"s'your own fault," he huffs, cheeks less bright then they first were when you'd made the irreparable mistake of complimenting him (in his eyes, you regret nothing) but still with a nasty scowl on his face.

"ya keep sayin' dumb shit so now you deal with the consequences," he presses his nose against your pulse point as he huffs hard into your neck to annoy you and it works because you grumble, you feel him smirk proudly.

two could play that game.

"what dumb shit ? the fact that you're handso-" you cut yourself off with a giggled squeal as katsuki drops you backwards onto his bed with a snarl. you snort and giggle when he blows raspberries and softly bites into your neck, helplessly trying to push him away with your limp arms.

"you just can't help yourself, can ya.." he tuts, grabbing your arms and pushing them against his bed, barely suppressed smirk on his face as he sees your eyes prick with tears, leaning back in to blow into your neck "think you’re funny ? hah ?!"

he ignores your giggled plea's and bites at your fingers when he leans back enough for you to push at his face.

"yuck ! you're gross !" you wheeze, still giggling as you see the lopsided smile on his face. he huffs at the exertion of keeping you still, he really isn't trying hard to convince you he isn't handsome when he looked like that.

"yeah ? i'm gross, huh ? right back at you," he leans in close to you again, smirk still playing on his face "saying mushy shit like that."

"yeah well, i'll keep sayin' it !" you retort, sticking your tongue out at him. he rolls his eyes and drops onto you, causing you to grunt out an 'oof !' sound. he's stays quiet until he presses a soft kiss onto your skin, right where he'd bitten you. unbeknownst to you, his expression softens as he tries to repress a smile. he scoffs.

"you're so damn weird." he utters affectionately.

[lxvvie]

Simon Riley is a sexually frustrated mess of a man.

And it’s nothing a simple wank can take of. Maybe.

There’s your soldier, reclined haphazardly on the couch, nursing a ciggie, adrenaline rushing, and so bloody hard his cock might as well be a diamond. It’s a right bastard, and he might as well be one, too, seeing as he can’t be arsed to take care of it himself.

Well, he could if only he weren’t so fuckin’ tired and touched starved and in desperate need of you and bloody hell, come over ‘ere and love him, darling. Better yet, why don’t you fuck him? Help him take the edge off, luv. Help him cum.

“Fuck me, sweetheart.” Not a command, not a plea, but both, rolled up into gravelly cheekiness, pungent smoke, and come-fuck-me eyes. And so you do.

And Simon Riley is a goddamn goner.

He expected the rough and tumble that came with fucking him the way he does you, but this? Nice and painfully slow? What the actual fuck? You damn cocktease. What’re you doing to him?

He hadn’t even finished speaking before you had him on his back. Shocked him so bloody much he almost dropped his ciggie, and a little prep and some Riley-esque expressions of impatience later, there you were, fucking him like he had all the time in the world.

What the fook?

Even when you first entered him, you took your time and told Simon you wanted him to feel every inch; poor bastard didn’t know what to do with himself, cock twitching with every languid movement, cheeks hot, and dark eyes practically staring daggers at you while you grinned.

But the best was yet to come, yeah?

Wrong. Heh. Fuck him, right?

And so Simon Riley, horny bastard extraordinaire, was being fucked like he had all the time in the world; fuck if he didn’t need it though. You were a fucking tease, moving your hips slowly, pissing him off, making him crazier than ever for you, leaving Simon torn between the two while you angled yourself ever so slightly, and—

“Bloody fuck—“ There we go, Riley.

He takes a puff, can’t help but to because you’re killing him softly, sweetheart, and the contrast of smoking and being fucked does something to him. It turns his cock into a leaky faucet, and Simon swears to whatever higher power out there that he’ll NEVER let you fuck him like this again.

Don’t you fucking believe him, either.

You angle yourself again, sending Simon reeling, and he’s close. He’s so damn close. Your grin gets wider once your soldier settles for his cigarette dangling from his lips because his cock needs so much more attention, and his hand gets to work.

You wonder if he’ll ever realize just how much a sight he truly is, especially when he’s coming.

Like right now.

And it isn’t the earth-shattering orgasm that makes him chuckle and you chuckle at his chuckle. It’s the one that comes in waves of frustration, satisfaction, guttural growls, and cigarette smoke. Just like Ghost.

Just like Simon Riley.

“Attaboy,” you wax lyrical on his post-coital high, and Simon, cigarette still dangling from his mouth, stares daggers at you. Again. Fucking tease. But of course, there you are to remind him that you still have the upper hand. With another pointed thrust. And Simon Riley’s a fucking goner. Again. Christ, you’re killing him, luv.

You will not be fucking him anytime soon after this.

And don’t you fucking believe that either.

[mintmatcha]

"Kenma."

The game buzzes on, the battle music intensifying. The thing his character is facing has changed, taking on its second form as Kenma's character rolls and swings its sword. The man himself is curled into his knees, chest tucked forward in anticipation, like he's about to hop out of his chair.

"Ke-"

"In a second," he cuts you off. His unblinking eyes never leave the screen, peering through his blonde bangs. "I just have to beat this boss."

With a huff, you sink back into your chair.

"Last time you said 'just a second' it took you two days to beat the damn thing," you remind him. "I'm not immortal-- I don't have time to sit around for you."

Frankly, you often forget Kenma is immortal until moments like that. You had always thought that vampires would be menacing or carry some sort of grandeur, but everyone you've met has been so spectacularly normal. Kenma, for instance, seems like every other guy your age: aloof and obsessed with video games.

"Get bitten then," he shrugs. "Kuroo would be happy to."

Your spine trills at the thought of it. When you first met Kuroo, you thought her was odd in the most normal way possible. He was practically nocturnal because he claimed to work remotely overseas, but he still went to bars and played indoor volleyball: average activities for an average man-

Or, that's what you thought, until you learned about the whole vampire thing.

Honestly, it's only made you more attracted to him. The mystery, the danger-- what's not to love? You'd be lying if you said you had never thought of his teeth on you, his hands on your body-

"That's what I wanted to talk about."

Kenma's head whips around. This game doesn't pause; the monster smacks his avatar across the screen.

"You're turning?" His voice is either bright with surprise or shock. You've known Kenma for a while now and you still can't seem to read his motivations. You're not sure why Kuroo incorporated you into the fold of his undead friend group, but here you are, sitting in their living room.

"No, uh-" What you're about to ask suddenly feels silly. "I wanted to... Can I see your teeth?"

Kenma's expression settles and he picks up the controller that you hadn't realized he dropped.

"I died for that?" He flicks the game off. "You could have waited for that. I'll still have teeth in a week."

You have to bit your tongue to stop yourself from losing your mind. Kenma just goes back to gaming, eyes narrowing with effort.

"I could be dead in a week."

"You won't be."

"I could be," you say. "I could have a stroke at any moment."

"You won't." He mashes the buttons extra hard, so hard the plastic creaks. "And if you did, we'd know before you did."

The character dies much earlier than it usually does.

"How would you know if I had a stroke before I did?"

"It smells sour when..." His eyes finally turn your way again. "Whatever. It's fine."

"Fine to touch?" you say.

He beckons you over with a nod of his chin. "Yeah."

Pushing off from your seat, you walk over to where he's sitting. Kenma doesn't bother to stand. He tilts his head back, looking up at you with a slight smile.

Already, you can see them. The sharp, vivid white teeth behind his pale lips. They have the usual shape, but anything uncanny edge makes your skin crawl. It's something you can't quite place, maybe something not there at all.

To get closer, you slide a leg onto his chair, angling yourself over him the best that you can. You're surprised when his hand rests on your thigh for support.

"Don't look so scared," Kenma says, a bit too coy for your liking.

You hadn't realized you'd been making a face at all.

"Just don't bite me."

Kenma opens his mouth and his teeth catch the dim light, strange for how dry his mouth seems to be. His canines are slightly elongated, just a hair more than a usual human. Gingerly, you run your fingers across the front of his teeth, then down to their edges. There's almost a razors edge to them, enough that you can feel the ridges of your fingerprint catching.

"Sharp," you quip. You leave a pause for Kenma to respond, but then you realize he can't, not with his mouth open for you. He just watches you, eyes flickering from one of your eyes to the other.

This isn't intimate, you remind yourself. It's scientific curiosity.

It can't be intimate, because you like Kuroo. Not Kenma. No, you don't like it at all that his hands are around your waist and you're cupping his cheek with your free hand, that his breath somehow smells soothing-

His canines seem longer now. More jagged, sharp. You press the pad of your thumb against it and watch how your skin easily skins in, no resistenxe whatsoever. Then, you pull away. A drop of blood wells up at the spot; there's no pain whatsoever, but the thumb tingles, like menthol and cocaine, riveting and calming all at once.

Kenma leans into the palm of your hand, then cranes his neck ever so slightly to envelop your finger in his lips. It's the most delicate of touches, a ghost of a memory of a kiss, but when he pulls away, crimson has settled into the cracks of his lips.

"Your heart's beating-" his tongue runs over his lower lip. "Really fast."

Kenma pulls you closer, arms now tight around your waist. You don't know when you got so close, when your bodies suddenly were pushed together, but now they are--

and now your finger is in his mouth. The gentle, crushing pressure of suction surprises you, but not more than the desperate whine he makes when blood hits his tongue.

That buzzing had spread up your arm and you can suddenly feel it, feel how your heart runs heavy and fast for him. Kenma's eyes are so lidded, barely open, heavy with want, that you can barely make out how his pupils have narrowed into cat scratch slits.

"Oh," you babble. "Oh, it's--"

"Feels good?" Kenma isn't speaking, but you can hear his voice.

"Y-yeah."

"I can make you feel good." There can't be that much blood from that tiny spot, but Kenma swallows deep as if there is. "Anytime you want."

The plush of his tongue swipes up your digit. Oh, maybe you are bleeding out. Maybe he's killing you. You're hot and cold and weak and strong and, and, and--

"You never have to ask Kuroo for-"

The front door of the apartment slams closed. A familiar set of boisterous laughter echoes through the halls-- Bokuto and Kuroo are hone. When you pull away, Kenma gives no resistance, his eyes still fixated on you.

An unjust guilt rises in your throat. You examine your hand, expecting a torrent of blood, only to be greeted with the smallest blossom on your finger tip.

"Were we supposed to do that?" you whisper.

"It's fine." Kenma adjusts himself in his chair, pulling at his pant legs. "They'll scold me, not you."

That doesn't make you feel better.

"Thanks," you say, awkwardly heading for the door. "For the-- thanks."

"Hey," he's using his real voice this time. You pause, turning back to him to catch his wide, Cheshire grin. "Thanks for the snack."

[gf2bellamy]

reader and spencer both getting home from a really long and tough case and just cuddling and resting together 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 and reader is like "spence can you lay on top of me that would just be so cozy right now " but he's like "no i dont want to crush you" but reader is like "don't worry, it'll be comfy, i promise " and they end up falling asleep like that? ☹️☹️☹️☹️ need him..

<3

-🪲

comfortable — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: literally just fluff <3 a/n: hiii !!! i hope you like this <333 bc i loved writing this

"I'm never getting up from this couch ever again," you sighed dramatically, collapsing onto Spencer’s couch, stretching yourself across it without a care.

Spencer chuckled softly as he followed your lead, nudging your legs just enough to make room for himself before settling in. He gently lifted them, resting them across his lap as he leaned back. His head fell against the cushion, eyes fluttering shut. Spencer's fingers absentmindedly traced slow patterns along your calf. Neither of you spoke, and neither of you moved. 

Then, barely above a whisper, Spencer mumbled, "We should probably sleep in bed." His voice was heavy with sleep. But he didn’t move. And neither did you. 

You hummed in acknowledgment, but that was all. The bed was far. Too far. And this was warm. Spencer shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the angle of his body wasn’t ideal for sleeping upright. He sighed as his hand moved absentmindedly, fingertips brushing over your knee, then back down. Spencer shifted again, adjusting his position.

“Just lay on top of me,” you murmured, cracking one eye open. 

Spencer’s eyes fluttered open at that, his brows knitting together in confusion as he turned his head toward you. “What?” 

You grinned, stretching your arms out in invitation. “It’s cozy.” 

He huffed a laugh but still hesitated. “I don’t want to crush you.” He shifted again, clearly uncomfortable but still refusing to move to the bedroom. 

“No, you won’t,” you reassured him. “Come on, give it a shot.” 

He didn’t move right away, still weighing the options. You could practically see the gears turning in his mind, trying to calculate the logistics of whether this was a good idea. 

“You could always just go all the way,” you teased, exaggerating the words dramatically. “to the bedroom.” You paused for effect, watching his expression. “Or you could sleep sitting up.” Another pause. “Or you could just sleep in my arms.” 

Your smirk widened as you caught the way he rolled his eyes, but the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him, he was fighting a smile. Spencer sighed, long and exaggerated, before finally giving in. He carefully positioned himself above you, lowering his body just enough to hover, still holding his weight up as if afraid of squishing you. 

You shot him a look. 

That was all it took for him to relax, finally settling against you. His warmth seeped into you instantly, and you felt the tension in his muscles melt away. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin, and for a few moments, neither of you spoke. 

Then, barely above a whisper, he mumbled, “This is nice.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Told you.” 

Your fingers threaded through his curls, lazily twisting them around as you dragged your nails lightly across his scalp. He let out a contented sound at the sensation, his body growing heavier as sleep started pulling him under. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, lingering for a moment before resting back against the couch. In response, he tilted his head just enough to press the laziest, softest kiss against your neck, his lips barely brushing against your skin. 

“Are you sure I’m not crushing you?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. 

You chuckled, squeezing his side gently. “Yes, Spencer. I’m sure.” 

He didn’t respond right away, but the way his arms instinctively tightened around you told you he believed you. Within seconds, his breathing evened out, warm against your skin. 

You sighed in contentment, letting your own eyes drift shut. 

[carbonfiction]

Listen and learn

Summary: You should've known better than to push, to ignore Franks warnings. Expression stern, voice snipped, he'd repeatedly told you to listen. To quit it, just for a little while. So was it truly all your fault when you just wanted some of his attention?

Masterlist Words: 1.4k

Soooo, i basically couldn't stop thinking about him w that beard/haircut so this monstrosity was born. carbonfiction actually posting a fic??? She has risen babygirl!! Bone apple teeth, enjoy, n all that stuff..

Warnings: 18+ themes. Rough frank. Smut. moment w a vibrator. Unprotected piv sex (do not), rough sex themes, praise kink, fairly light degradation, swearing, hand over mouth and then neck for a moment, squirting and of course mentions of bodily fluids.. Gets kinda soft n sweet near the end.. I thinkkkk thats it?

You should've known better than to push, to ignore Franks warnings.

His expression stern and voice snipped as he'd repeatedly told you to quit; to calm down and let him finish up his task. All while rough hands worked on cleaning guns and sharpening knives that his eyes hadn't left all day.

So was it truly all your fault when you just wanted some of his attention?

Not exactly, technically speaking, but when you'd stormed off muttering something about taking care of it yourself.. Well, that had pushed a button.

The part when Frank heard the low buzz of your vibrator start up down the hall however, destroyed said button entirely.

The metal chair flung back from the momentum as he stood. Boot clad feet storming loudly down to the bedroom, door flying open with a careless slam. Franks broad figure practically glaring at the way you rest spread near bare on the bed. Vibrator still buzzing beneath the soft lace of your panties from the shock.

You knew you would be in for it, just perhaps foolishly not as bad.

Especially now as Frank's hips pummle into your backside, the clash of skin loud enough to know it'll leave marks. His body drapes over you, heavy and wide, teeth biting against the juncture of your neck adding to the already overwhelming sensations of the way he fucks into you.

"Though this was what you wanted huh?" he grunts, a large hand groping roughly at your tits. "beggin an whinin in my ear when I told you, when you knew, I was busy. Couldn’t fuckin wait could ya."

You try to respond, you really do, but the sound falls broken into the air. A mixture of a sob and a gasp all in one, an agreement in intention but pitiful at best. So much so it makes frank scoff behind you as that same hand once on your chest begins to back drift up, wrenching your jaw to the side.

Despite the near violent way your body bounces back against his you can still make him out in your periphery. The longer strands of his grown out hair messy, sweat beading at the ends that gather at his temple.

"Hell, Aint even said thank you, you know that? Give you what you wanted and suddenly all your manners are gone." Franks voice is as rough as the pounds of his hips as they change pace, now slow but brutally deep. "D’ i fuck em outta you already? That what’s going on?

A squeeze of his hand on your jaw realigns the attention you didn't even realise shifted. A particularly heavy hit of his hips making your eyes flutter, the tip of his cock thumping against your cervix. "N-no.. I- .. th-thank you F-frank" you manage, just about.

But for frank? For frank that's not good enough. Its a start sure.. But something important is missing. And he knows you know it; even if he is burried so deep you can barley think without tasting him.

"Getting everything handed to ya, a real spoiled fuckin princess these days ain’tcha. Shit, gettin dick when you want it, s' fuckin greedy." Frank near growls the words, pulling out his cock from your soaked walls and flipping you. Back hitting the mattress with an audible oomf as he parts your thighs again.

Franks hand slaps down against your inner thigh the same moment he slips back inside; the angle pushing your knees over his shoulders as he begins to move once more. A shrill squeak passing your lips.

"You answer me when I'm talkin to ya sweetheart" he commands, hand on your cheeks this time, squishing them just slightly, lips pouted. "Big girl words.. Or have those gone away too?"

It takes a moment of him staring your keening form down before you choke out an answer, babbled and high in pitch. His cock pounding at that little spot inside you could never quite reach yourself, the base rubbing just right against you with each harsh push and pull.

"M-mhm! S-so spoilt sir" you nod, head barley moving in the tightness of his grip. One of his hands grabbing at the discarded vibrator and placing it directly at your clit. It makes you squeal, the rumbling vibrations hot and intense as his thrusts send it jolting back and forth. It has your cunt pulsing around his cock intently, pleasure coiling in your belly quicker than you can realize. "S' so good- so dee-"

Your warning is broken off by a squeal, franks cock slipping free with an audible gush of liquid from between your legs, the sound only made more mortifying by the thoroughly debauched buzzing. The bed beneath you soaking, your thighs and franks abdomen shiney with slick as blood pounds loudly in your ears.

But it doesnt stop frank, doesnt make him let up the harsh rocks of his pelvis, as he drives himself back inside completly unphased. His thumb offers a small mercy as the vibration ceases, discarded once again. A dark grin forming on his face as he watches you squirm; half embarrassed and half overwhelmed. Brain fuzzy and gone.

"F-fuck, fuck frankie!" you sob, sensitivity weaving its way up your arching spine. "S' too much!"

"Naw, Too much? That right? S’ too much cock for that little cunt?" he coos the words so sinfully as your eyes peer helpless at him. Toes curling against his shoulder blades, your hands pittifully pushing at his biceps and chest to no avail. A scratchy kiss placed to your cheek as he leans down to tut. "Not- fuck- not sure I believe you with the way she’s been drooling on me"

"M-mhm! It is, swear! Too much- too good.." you moan pathetically and he scoffs, hand flattening over your mouth, palm pressing against your lips to muffle you.

"See, you hear that?" Franks body pushes against yours; thoroughly pinning you to the mattress with his weight as he makes you listen. The squelch of your pussy as his hips draw out filling the air; not to mention the following plap of his full balls swatting at you as he bully himself back into place. Tummy fluttering as embarrassment floods your face. "You hear how bad she fuckin needs me? Can feel ‘er pullin me in sweetheart so I know your lyin. Know you can take it"

Theres a flicker in his eyes as he stares you down, one that, even in your hazy state, you recognize well enough to be a check in. A silent conversation, a way of knowing if you need him to carry on or if things are really too much. Your head moves before you can even register it, nodding quickly for him to continue as your back arches.

"My fussy girl just needed attention ain’t that right" Frank grins, your hand guiding his from your mouth to rest at the column of your throat. The weight of his paw like palm a pleasant pressure as his hips grind into you. "Needed a hand on your neck, big cock pushin at your guts to make it better, empty that beautiful head. Just a shame you got bratty ‘stead of waitin like a big girl. Not some cock drunk lil prin-"

A babbled gasp of his name cuts him off, another orgasm crashing over your body so unexpectedly it brings tears to your eyes. The mix of Franks cock punching so deep and his hand on your neck overwhelming in the best possible way. Cunt tight as a vice around his cock as his expression shifts again, a gutteral growl falling free.

His movements slow, the weight of him still soaked and locked inside. "Shhh I know, I know sweetheart" he coos, all previous agitation suddenly melted away like the flick of a switch, the frank you recognize in bed taking over. His hand cups your jaw as he uses the other large arm to hold himself up. Gaze locked on yours. "Got me so fuckin deep in there, it still feel good sweet girl?"

You nod quickly, mouth dry and body still trembling. Unconscious twitches of muscles your only movement to indicate you havent become one with the mattress as you grin up at him ruined. "So.. So good frankie.." panted, raspy and addicted.

"Jus' a little more 'kay, nearly there baby" Frank presses the words to your forehead with his lips, hips grinding into yours. Your fingers hold him tight, crescent indents littering his skin, legs around his waist keeping him locked between them.

When frank hits his peak its done with his eyes locked onto yours, panted moans and keened whimpers filling the stuffy room. Declarations of love and praise shared in the hushed come down, bodied pressed so close you practically stick together, a combination of sweat, slick arousal and cum painting skin.

"Know exactly how to get whatcha want hey sweetheart?" Frank smirks, licking his lips as he finally slips free to drop beside you. It makes you grin, eyes flicking to his to find a playfulness rarely shown, a hand shoving at his form. He jostles just a fraction with a chuckle, ever the boy he was before everything happened when he comes down.

You both need to shower, the sheets absolutely need changing, but right now nothing else matters but this. Hands intertwined on his heaving chest, His full attention, yours once again.

Okay so i dont know how i feel about the flow of this one because i got a little burnt out in the process (no fault of the fic) buttttt she's done so thats all that matters. As always inbox is open annnd Lmk what you think <3

[ervotica]

27. kisses for cover at a party with poly!rosekiller. reader goes to evan to get a guy off you, he makes out with you, barty sees and is like "yay i wanna join" and then just devours you

ahhh i love them! poly!rosekiller x fem!reader, college!au ✩ 900 words

You slip beneath the handsome guy at the pub with practiced ease, dipping under his outstretched arm in an attempt to shake your unwelcome admirer of the evening.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch but rather curls his arm round the nape of your neck, tucking you into his shoulder in one fluid movement until you're mostly obscured. He dips his head low enough to murmur in your ear; his voice is like smooth, dark honey.

"Who you hiding from, lovely?"

"This bloke's been following me round all night," you admit, voice high and breathy. "He's still looking, I think. Will you- will you pretend to know me until he goes away?"

He grins and the sight almost blinds you; crinkled eyes and a soft smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones. Miles and miles of brown skin and a curly blonde mop that sits high on his head.

He really is lovely.

And if you'd met him under different circumstances, you'd be nervous for an entirely different reason.

"Consider it done, okay? No need to fret."

He tips his head lower until his nose brushes yours. You hold your breath in anticipation.

"Let's give the prick a show, yeah?"

Your insides flush white-hot as you wait for his lips to make contact. It's a languid sort of kiss, building in intensity as your mystery man flattens his tongue against your bottom lip. He palms at your neck, angling your face upward until you have no choice but to part your lips and let him lick into your mouth, soft and slow and deep.

You push up on your toes - encouraging him closer - and you feel the corners of his mouth tip up even as he indulges your wordless request.

The kiss ebbs and he pulls back. You bite your lip and try to pretend that he didn't just give you the best kiss of your life.

"I'm sorry," you say, cadence twinged with embarrassment. "I don't even know your name."

He smooths the pad of his thumb over your pencil lined eye and smiles, unperturbed. His expression is softer this time, something akin to fondness lingering in his eyes.

"Evan," he murmurs. "And you?"

"Y/N."

A weight settles at your back and you go rigid, pushing back into Evan's space with a startled gasp.

"It's okay, lovely girl," he placates with ease, as though he's known you for much longer than a few minutes. "This is Barty."

This boy is taller – sharper round the edges than Evan, but no less beautiful. His face is shrouded by thick, dark hair that contrasts so heavily with his pale skin it almost looks unnatural.

"Hi, pretty," he coos. "Oh, she is gorgeous, Ev. The gorgeous ones always love you."

"Hi," you almost whisper. You're suddenly even shyer under Barty's fervent gaze, red-hot at his rapt attention.

He folds at the waist and twirls one of your loose curls between his fingers. From here you can smell his breath, mint and vodka and something sweeter that lingers on the tip of his tongue.

He steps closer, right into your space until you're sandwiched snugly between the two of them.

"Do I get a kiss?" he asks, borderline pleading. Intense, for a man you've just met.

Your throat works around a thick swallow and you look down at your feet, suddenly overwhelmingly shy.

"Um..."

"Don't be jealous, babe," Evan placates, a lithe hand massaging teeny circles into your shoulder.

"I find a pretty little thing snogging my boyfriend and I'm supposed to not be jealous?"

You balk. Your eyes gloss over, and wet and wide and painfully apologetic.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm really sorry."

"Shh." Evan loops an arm round your waist and tugs you neatly into his side. "He's teasing. He just wants a kiss, too, if you're willing to give it."

You can't deny that Barty is beautiful – all long, milky limbs and dark features. You nod tentatively.

"Okay."

Evan plants his chin in the juncture of your neck as Barty leans in, long fingers roaming the expanse of your waist with a fervour you've never felt before. Your stomach flips.

Barty's kiss is far more fervid. All tongues and clashing teeth as he angles his head to get more of your mouth on his– as though he wants to eat you whole.

You whine into his mouth when his hand settles on the dip of your spine and presses down, forcing you to arch up into him. There's not a part of you that isn't being touched in some way.

Especially not when Evan trails his lips along your pulse point and begins diligently sucking a bruise under your jaw.

Barty gets you by the nape of your neck and probes his tongue further into your mouth. He's persistent, flicking his tongue behind your front teeth until you gasp and open your mouth wider to grant him more access.

"There's a good girl," Evan says, voice rumbling against your back.

The trail of spit that stretches and bows between the two of you when Barty pulls back to get a good look at you has you feeling faint.

"Can we keep her, Ev?" Barty nuzzles his nose against the soft swell of your cheek.

"What do you say, angel? Can we keep you?"

You're too dazed to answer with more than a nod, curling your own arms around Barty's waist to keep him pressed against you.