my kind of strange @dragondrafts - Tumblr Blog

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welcome to my writing blog! I'm an amateur fanfic writer who writes mostly fluff and smut, with a touch of angst. my writing occasionally contains explicit content, which will be tagged accordingly.

you can find all of my major works on AO3 here: dragonprinxe

this is a side blog, my main is here: @dragonprinxe

avatar image is from the official Metaphor: ReFantazio manga

header image is from RuneterraCCG

if requests are open, they are most likely going to be exclusive to a particular topic, which will be in the blog description

tags:

#dragon writes - all my works

#dragon talks - general tag of me saying things

#dragon fics - the works I post on AO3

#dragon drabbles - short form mini-fics and headcanons

#fanfiction #ao3 #pinned post

cottonfeltgembira

Mundane Life For A JRPG Protagonist ☕️

A Modern Coffee Shop AU fic for StroWill 💙💛

Rated: T

Cute Multichapter Slowburn! (First meeting & developing relationship)

There's something I can't don't want to remember

Chapter 1 Summary: A new face, a new connection, the smell of warm spice in a faded cologne— A break in a repetition.

"I'd answered it might just be the quality and brands we use but I've had pretty good coffee made from cheaper ingredients."

The gentleman laughed in disbelief, "So you're just a wizard who makes every cup taste like magic?"

A wizard? Will did like the idea of a coffee wizard, maybe they need to start calling baristas wizards now and pair them with staffs and wands. He had little to no clue what the staffs and or wands would be used for however, chasing away mean white collars and pesky social media influencers? Maybe.

Read it here!!

#other fics #metaphor refantazio #strowill #oooo ima read this later

croquettish

If any of you played and enjoyed Metaphor: Refantazio and happen to have excellent taste, I wrote 28K of Strowill!

#metaphor refantazio #other fics

pseudowho

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Higuruma Hiromi glory-hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, feral smut and falling in love with a stranger.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You knew him only as the man in the black and white suit. You had only seen the briefest glimpse of his clothes through your glory hole, after all.

"I don't normally-- I've never done this before...not that kind of guy--" he apologised, on the other side of the wall. His voice was smooth, deep and kind. You felt a little bubble of affection in your belly already.

"...well...I'm not that kind of girl," you teased, peeking a single come hither beckoning finger out of the glory hole, inviting him to your mouth, "...but something's got to pay the bills."

You heard the man's breath hitch, a shudder. You heard him unzip himself, and you settled on your knees, wiggling in anticipation. Waiting for a job to come up in a legal office was long...and while this wasn't the best use of your Law degree, you couldn't help but feel the thrill of doing something so sordid.

A cock, only half-hard and uncertain, but still so long, thick and pink-tipped beneath his silky foreskin, was eased gently through the hole. His voice sounded worried for you on the other side, and you pressed your fingers over your mouth, suppressing a smile.

#jjk #hiromi higuruma #smut #other fics

Crimson Lace

🔞 Pairing: Protagonist/Leon Strohl Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Will gifts his lovely husband Strohl a night to remember, and Strohl is going to savor every minute of it. AO3 Link: Here 🔞

Just a little something for Valentine's Day, I hope you all enjoy <3

#dragon writes #valentines day #metaphor refantazio #metaphor: refantazio #strowill #will of elda #leon strohl #fanfiction #smut

kill3ill

about you | steve harrington

cw. friend's younger brother! steve, farmboy! steve, age gap (reader is 4 years older), pining, angst, steve's one sided crush at first, masturbation (f), desperate! reader, plot heavy, grinding and breastplay as foreplay, fem! reader, unprotected sex, creampie. very fluffy sex, aftercare and reassurance.

synopsis. do you think i had forgotten about you?

wc. 5k

steve has deluded himself into thinking he's living in a poorly paced rom-com starring the two of you, where the plot is a cliche; he's got it bad for his sibling's best friend.

the only thing is, he's younger than you. not by much, but enough for it to be noticeable. you'd met his older sibling back in primary school, and because the two of you had gotten close so fast, you found yourself visiting the harrington residence quite often.

you'd been about eight years old when you were first introduced to small, cherubic steve. back then, the differences in maturity and growth were devastatingly apparent. you thought he was the cutest little kid, constantly picking him up and letting him play with your hair and squish your face all while your friend told him to let you go and not to be so annoying. when you came to his defense, steve knew instantly that he adored you.

throughout adolescence, the age gap was still a big deal. twelve and sixteen, eighteen and fourteen... he was of no interest to you beyond a little brother. His little childish crush on you seemed as harmless as a little boy's admiration towards a role model, and your friend had told you. you brushed it off and dismissed it as cute.

innocent it was. you both were children. but steve had no interest in anyone but you for years.

so when the two of you were both in the stage of middle-late twenties, he wanted to finally pursue things with you healthily and appropriately. a four year age gap was absolutely trivial now. you both had careers, your cerebral cortexes were fully formed...

so why did you turn him down?

steve had approached you that night using all of the things he'd learned you liked most. he took you to your favorite spot in the city, a hill with no people or trash or noise, and under the stars, he had said; "i don't expect anything from you. i just wanted to say it. finally."

steve looked nervous, but not like the little boy you remembered who used to hide behind his sibling's legs when you came over. he looked older now. broader shoulders, jaw set, voice deep but still gentle.

you didn't know what to do. the way he said your name made your heart hurt. the way his eyes wouldn't leave your face made you want to look away and stare back all at once. he'd grown into someone you couldn't pretend was still a kid.

"steve," you'd said softly, "you're misunderstanding..."

"i know," he interrupted. "i know, gosh, i know what you're going to say. 'bout how you've always looked out for me, how you've always seen me as a kid, i know. but i'm not that anymore. and i can't just keep pretending i don't feel this way every time i'm around you."

he'd waited years to say it, you could tell.

and all you'd said in return was "i...i appreciate all this steve, it's very sweet how you took the time out of your day to do all this, but it's so complicated, you know? there's your sibling... what they'd think about this. and then there's the fact that i just can't look at you that way, you know?" you smile in a way that almost feels patronizing, and reach up to touch his cheek. "you'll always be little stevie to me."

steve had frowned and watched you walk away with his heart in his feet.

of course you couldn't look at the boy who once tripped over his shoelaces chasing after you and think lover. but that didn't mean he was going to let you keep seeing him as the same kid forever.

so when you came back to hawkins a few months later to visit his sibling, steve made damn sure you saw the difference.

ᥫ᭡.

you'd barely exited your taxi before steve came into your vision. the sun's causing his exposed skin to turn a pretty gold color. his t-shirt sticks to his skin from the work he'd been doing outside, jeans dirty, forearms glistening. he didn't look like the awkward, lanky boy who used to follow you around asking questions. he looked like a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

steve wipes his brow with the back of his wrist, turning round to face you, an incredibly insincere smile gracing his lips. "well well," he drawls, a touch of bitterness in his voice. "look who finally decided to show up. thought you'd forgotten all about all us unimportant people back home."

the tone of his voice struck you as pointed and mocking. your body does stiffen slightly, but you push through your discomfort. "hello steve," you respond, steadying your voice. "didn't realize you were working."

he crosses his arms over his chest, biceps bulging in his thin shirt. "some of us do that now, princess. adult stuff like working."

your brows knit. "okay, i deserved that."

steve's gaze drags slowly and deliberately along your body. unfortunately for him, you do look good. uncomfortably so. as good as you looked last time you saw him, when you tore his heart into tiny, unmendable pieces. he'd had plenty of sleepless nights processing the callous rejection from you, and now he's not buying the starry eyed, sweet girl act from you. he's not trying to be wooed by you so he can end up in the same mess he'd been working for so long to pull himself out of.

"you deserve a lot more than that. but hey- good to see you too."

you blink at him. this isn't the sweet kid who used to look up at you like you were magic. this was someone who knew exactly how you'd underestimated him, and was spending every second reminding you. swallowing, you say; "is your sibling inside?"

"probably. you can go see for yourself soon enough." steve steps closer. close enough that you could smell fresh grass and sun-warmed skin. "funny thing, though."

your stomach does an uncomfortable twist.

"last time i saw you, you told me you couldn't look at me any type of way." His voice is quiet cutting. "so why." he pauses, leaning down to show off the striking size difference between the two of you, getting down in your face mockingly. "are you sticking around to stare at my body, hm?"

"are you fantasizing about me, princess?"

you go silent, heat rushing to your face at his implication. you shouldn't react at all or give him any indication that his suggestion has made you flustered, but with how close he is, how he has to get down to be at your eye level like you're the one who's younger, more naive... it knocks something loose in you.

"relax," he whispers, "i'm not trying to make you confess anything. i'm done begging for scraps from you." the words stung, and he knew they did. he sees the look on your face as he tells you he's given up on you. it feels weird to hear it out loud. hear him confirm that he's over you. ready for the next.

he takes a step back and scoffs a little, giving you one last look before turning to walk away. guilt overcomes you, and you find yourself calling his name once, to which he responds by halting in his steps.

"come in when you're relaxed," he throws over his shoulder, back muscles flexing under his damp shirt. "i'm dying to see how long that act holds."

then he keeps walking, going up to the farmhouse porch and shutting the wooden door behind him roughly, while you stand on the gravel road by the farm breath unsteady. you're very aware that nothing about this is simple anymore.

ᥫ᭡.

each time you come by the house that week, steve makes a point of being in sight. fixing something, hauling bales of hay, leaning against the fence with a quiet self-assurance that wasn't there before. and he isn't shy about catching you looking, either. sometimes his gaze met yours halfway, just waiting for you to be the one who looks away first. you always do.

you have to keep telling yourself you aren't affected by him, that he's harmless. but the next time you find him mending the fence under the late afternoon sun with his shirt off and jeans resting low enough on his hips for you to see that deep v-line and an untrimmed happy trail. he has a hammer in one hand and sweat running down his broad back.

you can't bring yourself to move away or tear your gaze from him. long enough for him to notice.

"jesus, you gonna take a picture?" he calls over his shoulder, not even turning around first. he could feel your eyes on him without looking. the hammer pauses mid-swing; he rests it on the beam and finally looks back at you, mouth curved smugly.

you straighten up, clearing your throat. "just making sure you're not about to take your thumb off."

steve snorts "that's a shitty excuse for not being able to stay away from me." he says, grabbing the nails and pushing one in place with practiced ease. "been doing this every day for months. i'm not helpless."

you fold your arms, trying to look unaffected. "yeah, i can see that."

he hits the nail into place once, twice, the movements clean and precise. then he set the hammer down, wipes his hands on his jeans, and leans against the fence, chest rising and falling from exertion. "so." he asks casually, "how long are you staying this time?"

"...few more days," you reply quietly. you're too aware of the way he's standing, towering over you. noticing you. steve catches the way your eyes keep flicking down even when you try to force them back up.

"you've been doing that a lot," steve gestures to you with a nod, pushing off the fence, and in response, you step back without meaning to.

steve steps forward like he's been waiting for you to do exactly that. in an instant, the distance between you collapses to something small and his body blocks half the sunlight. now all you see is chest, throat, the faint curve of a smirk he's not even bothering to hide.

"doing what?" your voice feels unfamiliar to your own ears. it's pitched, high and nervous, and slightly shaky. what is going on with you? are you getting flustered around your best friend's little brother? this is wrong in every sense of the word.

steve taps his own temple gently. "getting all lost in thought. every time you look at me." his eyes outline every inch of your expression. "but then you run."

your heart misses a beat when steve calls you out on your obvious behavior. he can read you like a book, and you can't even pretend he's wrong. you have been looking. all week, every time he's been in the yard or in the kitchen or leaning against the truck wiping sweat from his face, you've been staring like a creep before you even realized you were doing it.

"and then," steve continues, "you come right back. and look all over again."

"i'm not running," you argue, and wince when steve immediately lets out a skeptical laugh, followed by your name, all slow and exasperated. "you bolt the second i catch you gawking at me. you know it just makes you look more guilty, right?" his voice drops in volume, and you watch as he slowly takes one last step towards you. You can't make yourself look away from him now, even if you tried.

your eyes drag down to the width of his chest, to the deep cut of that v-line disappearing under his jeans.

"there you go," steve whispers.

you jerk your eyes back up, mortified at being caught. you can't handle this, his size, the smooth sound of his voice.

the way he speaks to you as if he knows exactly what effect he's been having on you and has just been waiting for you to realize it too.

you mutter something that you're pretty sure isn't even a real word and step back.

steve is clearly disappointed by your cowardice, the little knowing smirk on his lips turning into a frown when he watches you spin around and walk briskly to the house, seeing your lackluster attempts to compose yourself. "there she goes." he mumbles. "running."

how disgustingly predictable indeed. behind you, you hear him pick the hammer back up and resume his work.

even as the distance between the two of you grows, you can still feel the imprint of his stare on your skin and the image of him burned into your memory. steve, shirtless, sun-kissed, sweat sliding down his stomach in a slow drip toward the dark line disappearing into his jeans, plays on loop every time you blink.

breathless, you close yourself into the guest room of the farmhouse, shut the door quietly, lean back against it like it's the only thing holding you upright. you're such a mess over the boy you swore you'd never feel anything towards, and yet here you are, hot and bothered and unable to keep still.

you manage to haul yourself onto the bed, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, why the want you've been feeling over the time you'd been back in hawkins has increased so much. it makes you wonder if you'd liked him back then, back when he'd confessed to you that one quiet night on the hill. "f-fuck, what am i doing?" you whisper. it sounds quiet over the loud beating of your heart.

steve looked at you like he could see straight through your clothing, through your excuses, through every flimsy wall you've set up over the years. he looked like he was ready to throw all to the wind and have you right there over that fence, fucking you stupid out in the open with no care if his sibling would walk into the field and catch you at any moment.

the thought makes your hand slide between your legs before you even register the movement. you don't bother taking anything off in case someone walks in unexpectedly, but you're desperate enough to get yourself off in steve's house anyway.

you close your eyes and picture him, broad shoulders blocking out the sun, jeans hanging low on his hips, the smug curl of his mouth and the rasp in his voice that other day when he whispered:

are you fantasizing about me, princess?

your breath leaves you in a shaky gasp at the memory, and you slip a finger inside with an equally wanton noise. no. it's not enough, steve is more. bigger, can go deeper. you figure if you're going to do something as shameful as touching yourself to steve in his house, you might as well make your fantasizing realistic.

you add another finger, tipping your hips upward to push the digits further into your dripping hole. "steve- fuck."

you try so hard to stay quiet, but want is making you stupid. your breathing comes fast as you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, your hips rocking against your hand to try and coax your fingers deeper. you're murmuring his name, again and again. it's breaking out of you without permission, but you're too far gone to stop it. your brain is wrapped up in your disgusting thoughts about him, how rough he'd fuck you, how mean he could be to you, holding onto the spite from your rejection...

the door opens as you're wrapped up in your fantasies, opening a crack then all the way. steve stands in the doorway, one hand still on the knob with his chest rising and falling slowly. his eyes drag over you, and he takes inventory of the details of your body writhing and your fingers curling in your pussy as you pleasure yourself greedily on the bed of his guest room.

for a moment, he can't find it in himself to tear his eyes away from you. beside the sheer irony of it all - you breaking his heart and dismissing him for years and now so affected by him that you had to do this - he can't believe his very fantasies and wet dreams have turned into a reality. you, splayed on a bed in his house, shorts half off as you pump your fingers into your pussy imagining him. his voice is low and incredulous. "holy shit."

you jerk upright, hand flying away from yourself. your skin starts to burn from being caught touching yourself. steve steps into the room and closes the door behind him without hesitation, and you pry your fingers out of yourself. he can see your arousal webbing between your fingers. you hide them at your sides and sit up.

"you couldn't keep up the lies anymore," he says quietly. it's as if he's talking more to himself than you, but it's clear he's figured you all out.

"steve, i wasn't-"

"don't." he cuts you off. "don't insult both of us." he walks closer until he's right by the edge of the bed, forcing you to look up at him. "you avoided, ran from me all week," he says, "i barely got a word in with you. and here you are, playing with your pussy and moaning my name."

your face scrunches with humiliation. you can barely look at him, because even now, you're disastrously turned on by him in your space, looking down at you and scolding you like you need to be put in your place. it's like you're the younger one right now.

"gosh," he breathes out, leaning down further before crawling onto the bed and mounting you. you lean back into the sheets on instinct, lips parting as he pins you down. "you're just as bad as me."

your mind starts to wander at the implication. he'd been touching himself to you too, was that what he meant? you wanted each other, but only one of you was brave enough to admit it.

steve leans down, his broad shoulders blocking everything in your peripherals as he looms over you. his hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head. then he settles his weight onto you, starting to slowly grind his hips against yours. you can feel the hard ridge of his semi pressing against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts and his jeans. you cry out as his clothed cock rubs against you roughly.

"you know what the funniest part is?" he groans, eyes not leaving you for a second. "you acted like i was still some little kid with a crush." one hand releases your wrists to trail down your side, fingers brushing against the swell of your breast. "but look at you now."

you're acutely aware of every inch of his body pressed against yours, and the slow, repeated motion of his crotch rubbing back and forth against yours. all of your body aches for his touch, and you arch your back under him, nipples straining through your shirt. steve's gaze drags down to your chest instinctually, watching as it heaves with each heavy breath you take.

" 's okay if i take this off you?" he says, suddenly much more aware of what's happening. he thought that if he ever got you, if he ever had you feel just a fraction of what he's been feeling his whole life, that he'd take things slow with you. dates, trips away from hawkins to learn more about the world while being with each other, and doing all sorts of other things before having sex with you. but the universe has a funny way of making things happen.

to his relief, you nod eagerly.

"words." he says quietly, hands gripping the edge of your shirt. but at the soft, "please steve, i need you," he can't wait any longer.

steve tugs your shirt up, exposing your bra-clad breasts to the cool air of the room. calloused fingers slip beneath the cups, brushing against the soft swell of your tits, and teasing the sensitive flesh. he hikes the bra, as pretty as it is, up and undoes the latch to let it fall away from you, before helping you out of it. then his hands return quickly to cup the mounds of your body.

he mumbles your name under his breath in awe, big hands gently squeezing you while his hips rock against you. his thumbs skate over your puffy nipples, and he watches in awe at the way you shiver and flinch at the touch. he's learning your body, finding all the places where you're sensitive so he can make your first time with him as good as possible. "need more, steve," you repeat softly, and he responds by rolling your nipples between two fingers expertly.

it's hard to guess where he learned that, but he is so good with his hands that you can't let your mind dwindle on the thought. he squeezes and rolls your nipples a little longer, feeling how damp you've gotten. some of your juices have left a little damp patch on the fabric of his jeans. or maybe it's the precum that's started to ooze out of his flushed tip. probably both.

one hand slips down to the waistband of your shorts, and he undoes the button and zipper before tugging it down in his fist with your panties all in one clean go. he bares your dripping pussy to his hungry gaze and groans softly, seeing how wet and pretty you are down there. "all this for me?" he asks softly, swiping two fingers up your puffy folds to make you jolt. "yeah." you respond shakily, knowing he won't be satisfied with a simple nod.

he lets out a pleased huff through his nose, the thick pads of his fingers rubbing you while his thumb moves to your clit. he pushes down on the sensitive nub and circles it around nice and slow, putting enough pressure to push you close to the edge quickly. your hips jerk, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as pleasure sparks through you.

"noisy." steve remarks, rubbing his fingers against you a little longer before replacing it with his bulge once more. the rubs the sticky crotch part of his jeans against your slick core, letting the rough fabric grind against your folds. "you're so loud. why didn't you tell me you wanted to be fucked sooner? now you're all pent up and sensitive." he whispers, admiring the way your body convulses when he rubs his jeans against your clit. you can feel every hot, hard inch of him through his pants, and the desire for more builds within you at the same time your orgasm nears.

steve pulls away from you abruptly, leaving you aching and needy as your impending release fades away. he grins at the whiny noise you make. "i know, i know. just gotta hold on for me a bit, okay?" he reassures you softly, leaning down to placate you by meeting your mouth with his. steve's mouth fits over yours a bit uncertainly. he's trying to be gentle and go slow, but when he's wanted you for so long and only had the luxury to imagine you like this throughout the years of his life spent wanting you, all he wants to do is feel all of you all at once and be greedy.

he keeps composure, but you feel the faint hitch in his breath against his mouth before he lets out a soft moan against your lips.

the sound comes out of him before he can stop himself, soft and wanting. it changes the kiss entirely. your mouth presses harder against his when you hear just how affected he is by you, and he follows your pace, pushing you back into the bed and taking the lead once more. his tongue slips into your mouth when you part it for him, and he runs it along yours, tasting the sweetness of you and swallowing your whines. his breathing goes uneven against your mouth. "you taste so sweet," he moans, running his tongue along the length of yours. "fuck, you're so sweet."

as steve's mouth closes back around yours and he bites on your lower lip, he reaches down to undo his jeans with intended slowness, most of his mind focused on kissing you and running the hand that's not undressing himself along your body. he caresses your hips, waist, thighs, and your pretty tits before shoving his jeans and boxers down, finally freeing his painfully hard cock. it stands up and hits his stomach, smearing the leaking precum on his stomach before he uses the liquid to slick up his cock for you by wrapping his hand around the thick shaft and pumping slowly.

your eyes widen as you take in the size of him, a thrill of anticipation and a twinge of nervousness shooting through you. he senses your trepidation. "promise i'll go slow," he says quietly, giving his cock a slow stroke from base to tip before he aligns it with your glistening hole, rubbing it gently through your folds. "ah- if it hurts, you tell me and we stop, yeah?"

you nod in response, reaching up to hold onto his shoulders to stay still as the blunt head of his cock slowly breaches your hole, pushing in nice and slow. "oh f-fuck..." he curses, face screwing up a little bit at how tight you are. "t-this is the hardest part, honey." steve pauses just inside you, letting the tip rest in you while he presses his hands into you to keep you steady. he feels your nails dig into your shoulders and watches the way your chest rises and falls hard as you adjust to the size.

"big stretch, okay?" he pulls your thighs apart with his hands, keeping you spread out for him to make the entry easier, but even with that, you're clamping down on him hard. it takes all of his willpower not to finish right there, with just the tip in you.

steve rocks forward slightly, feeling the way your pussy stretches around to accommodate his size. he watches the way you take in inch after inch, your walls fluttering around his cock and sucking him in deeper. "fuck-" he chokes out, closing his eyes and shaking his head so he doesn't cum from looking at that, either. he parts your thighs a little more, grounding you entirely to him as he presses further into you, slow and steady until he's stuffed you to the hilt.

fuck, it feels like heaven. he feels his body hum with the connection between the two of you. maybe he's making a soul tie with you. maybe he already had one with you. he doesn't fucking know. what he does know is that he's never felt anything in his whole life half as good as making love to you.

your fingers clutch his shoulders, nails digging in as you anchor yourself to him when his cock pushes against your womb. "st-steve, y-you can move," you whine. your pussy stretches taut around him, gripping his dick like a vice.

steve nods at your permission, drawing back until just the tip stays inside you, then he slowly pushes his hips forward once more, burying his cock to the hilt. "you feel so good," he praises softly, giving a shallow thrust of his hips that has him pressing up against all of your most sensitive spots at once. the veins along his cock scrape against your walls and offer more stimulation than you can possibly handle, but you take it all anyway. "god- you're so perfect. d'you know how long i wanted this?"

each time you let out a breathy moan or call of his name, he grunts and thrusts inside you a little deeper and rougher. he can't help it. how can he, when you sound so pretty taking his cock? he fucks into you nice and deep, his pelvis bumping yours each time he pushes into your pussy all the way, not letting a single bit of his cock not enter your silken walls. and when he pulls back, a creamy ring made of both your juices slicks the base of his cock.

"we're making a mess," he grunts softly. "see that?" he looks down at where you suck him in, and takes the risk to watch him slowly push back inside you. you moan at the sight, head dropping back onto the pillows. "it's so good, steve, keep going-" you beg, your voice being cut off with a gasp when his tip presses snugly into your cervix. " 's like we're made for each other." he says, leaning down. the new angle pushes him even deeper, and he's practically crushing your poor womb as he holds in place, tilting your head back to bare the column of your throat.

he lavishes the exposed skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue tracing the elegant line of your jugular, feeling your pulse leap beneath the caress of his mouth.

he starts his rhythm again, fucking into you with a newfound urgency.

" 'm so close, steve, i-i... i fuck, fuck, like you so much..." he groans at your little confession, seeing your eyes roll back as he works you towards your orgasm. "you like me?" he says softly as his lips trail up to your jaw. he sucks a pretty bruise in the spot beneath your ear and breathes hotly onto your neck. "not gonna lie to me anymore, baby?"

you shake your head rapidly, raking your nails down his back and gripping onto his strong biceps instead. "ah- good, that's good." he groans in your ear when you cut his skin, but he doesn't mind. you're marking each other. that's what matters. he leans in and captures your mouth once more while he angles his hips up and feels you milk his cock with each thrust. his tongue twines with yours, the lewd slide of muscle against muscle mirroring the glide of his cock through your dripping hole.

"gonna cum too," steve grunts, voice strained. "gonna fill you up and make you all mine."

your vision swims, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. your pussy clamps down on his cock, gripping him as you shake and convulse beneath him. steve hilts himself one last time, his cock throbbing as he shoots a stream of thick, hot cum deep inside you. you suck in every last drop as you cum around his cock simultaneously. the two of you hit your peaks together, and his mouth stays on yours.

spent, he collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as the remains of your shared orgasm fade away. he pulls away to nuzzles into your neck, his softening cock still nestled snugly in your cum-flooded hole. he doesn't move for a long second after that.

steve lifts himself off you carefully, immediately scanning your face. "hey," he says softly, brushing hair away from your damp forehead. "hey, hey. look at me. are you okay?"

you nod subtly, still holding onto him tight. your lips press to his forehead and your arms wrap around him. you're all spent and a little overwhelmed by his cock and cum still stuffed inside you, but you don't want to move. you don't want him to move either.

"okay," he murmurs, reaching for the blanket at the foot of the bed and tugging it over you both. he's gentler now, movements uncharacteristically careful because he's scared he'll spook you. he's just got you, and he's not willing to let you go anytime soon. "just… breathe for a sec. i've got you."

he stays tangled with you, stroking your face and soothing you back into a calm. it's quiet except for the ticking of the old house and your uneven breaths. after a moment, he presses his forehead to your temple. "i need you to know something." he waits until your eyes are focused on his.

"i didn't do this to prove anything or to get back at you. or to win." his thumb brushes under your eye tenderly. "it's cause i want you. i never stopped wanting you. and i wanted you to want me because you chose to, not because i pushed."

you nod, holding his hand to your face and bringing it down to your cheek. "i do want you." you whisper. "just took me too long to realize. i think... i think i wanted you since the day you confessed. but i couldn't... i was so scared, steve, i didn't want to screw up and lose you."

steve smiles at your confession. he understands. if you wanted to wait until you were ready, he didn't have any complaints. all he feels is happiness that finally he knows you've wanted him the way he's been all these years.

see more in my stranger things masterlist

see more in my main masterlist

keep this fic alive by reblogging it and commenting if you loved it!

#stranger things #other fics #smut #I don't go here (stopped watching stranger things some years ago) but this..... this is beautiful

ohcaptains

#whoops

madamechrissy

say it first

You, Satoru and Suguru attended Jujutsu high together, and you quickly became the best of friends. Now, after the last year of college you share Satoru's penthouse - you just can't handle the way you feel for them, it's anything but friendship and made worse every moment in this proximity. You don't want to ruin the friendship with your own feelings, so you bring up moving out, shocking them. after a particularly tough mission. Satoru and Suguru sure the fuck are not ever going to let you go - you're all theirs, they just have to show you.

pairings- Sorcerers Satoru x Suguru x Reader

warnings- canon jjk world, childhood friends to lovers, emotional in places, light angst, mutual pining, drinking involved, mmf threesome, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving) fingering, kissing, p in v sex, creampies, fucking their cum back inside you because you deserve it! they're obsessed with you <3

this was a commission for satosugu and a sorcerer reader - i hope you all enjoy ittt ah I got a little emotional <3 wc -6.7k

art creds here!!

Your curse technique is flowers.

Yep, it's flowers.

Not something cool like how your best friend Suguru Geto could literally swallow and summon curses, not even close to half of what Satoru Gojo's red and blue could do. Not even something cool like Shoko's reverse curse technique that can heal your friends – nah, when you fought, it was with fucking flowers.

When you were young in Jujutsu high school and first met Satoru and Suguru, they couldn't help but joke a bit on it, but once they realized you're more than capable of handling a curse and handling yourself, they backed off. The first few months of being a first year with them were the only extent of their teasing, no – soon you all became the best friends.

Such good friends you three share a penthouse, Shoko did for a bit too until she moved out with her new girlfriend. Leaving just you and the two boys. But it worked fine – most of the time.

Not when you had to see Suguru doing push-ups shirtless, sweaty and wiping himself with a cloth, smiling at you. Not when after a shower Satoru would walk around with a towel only on his hips, skin damp and dewy from the water, a little tinge of pink on his pale skin.

When he'd just walk up to you like it's nothing and you could see the bulge behind the soft terry cloth. Acting all normal when your tummy was clenched, thighs pressed together. Satoru and Suguru never treated you differently than they did each other, goofing around one moment, then fighting next to you, but they were just a little more protective.

During fights they both shielded you a bit too much, Satoru had no problem picking you up and carrying you away, Suguru would sling you over his shoulder and put you to safety even when you protested. The way they cared and loved their friends was deep and pure.

However you wish it was more.

How toxic of you to want more than friendship with them, when the friendship is beautiful. They're beautiful and you love them in your life, so what should you do when you're touching your pussy at night imagining your best friends – two of the strongest sorcerers in the world?

“Guys,” they both looked at you as the three of you were getting home from a mission and you're stuck between them in the car. “I think maybe… I should move.”

“What!?” Satoru lowers his sunglasses, raising a brow at you.

“Why?” Suguru's question is a little softer, but still there, the two of them staring like you've lost it.

“Well you two are so close, and Shoko is gone now, it's kinda um…” you can't find the words, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“Is this because I saved your cute little ass today?” You scoff at Satoru who is grinning, tilting your chin up. “I don't mind at all, sweets. Your flowers are always the cutest!”

“Satoru god,” his best friend grumbles, studying you carefully. “Ignore him, you know he's an idiot.”

“I am not!?”

“Why do you want to move?” Suguru asks again, a little softer, the way his amethyst eyes hit you with the sun pooling in from the window is too much to handle.

You can't stay friends when you've hopelessly fallen for them.

“Like I said you all are so close-”

“We all are,” Suguru brushes a lock of your hair back, messy from the battle, sighing as he studies your face. “Satoru and I don't want you to leave.”

#jjk #satoru gojo #suguru geto #satosugu #smut

alchemated-deactivated20251012

what a man! | nanami kento

cw. 18+ content ahead. adults only.

masterlist | second masterlist | kinktober

visit my main blog @rottingpink if you enjoyed.

kento is such a gentleman to his wife in public. holding doors open, getting you out of the driver's seat before you can unbuckle your seatbelt so he can walk around the car to help you out, tying your laces for you, doting on you when you're on your period… those are the basic things. your husband is way above all that. he goes out of his way to fuss over you constantly.

he's so far past "gentlemanly" that it almost feels unfair to compare him to anyone else. kento's the kind of husband who notices the tiniest little things before you even register them yourself. if your hair is pinned up for the night, it's him who quietly undoes it for you. he doesn't let you fall asleep like that, no matter how whiny or pouty you get about being tired.

bathing... he insists on doing it together, because for him it isn't about convenience, it's about closeness. you're bare in his arms while he's washing you carefully. kento takes his time, running the loofa along between your shoulders where you can't reach, your arms, your torso, making sure you're spotless and comfortable before he worries about himself. he has the patience of a saint, coaxing you with little kisses to your temple or a soft "just a little longer, my love," until you finally melt into his touch and let him do what he's set on doing.

in the presence of others, kento is affectionate in the most polite, impossibly tender way. a hand resting firm and protective on the small of your back, his arm always available for you to hook onto, subtle kisses to your knuckles when he's speaking with someone else. never anything showy or crass, just constant proof that you are his priority. if you're upset or start acting out, he never embarrasses you in front of others. after excusing you both, he takes your hands so you can't pull away, bend to meet your eyes, and speaks so gently that it disarms all your frustrations.

without raising his voice, he guides you back down to calm. the way he does it makes you feel less like you're being corrected and more like you're being cared for.

his behavior is noticeable. people stop and stare when he carries you at galas because your heels are hurting your feet - when he takes your plate from you halfway through dinner because he's noticed you've lost your appetite and quietly orders something lighter for you instead.

in truth, kento brings out that princess side of you because he leaves you no room to feel anything else.

now, in the private confines of his bedroom...

he's a beast. big, heavy, way too much cock for your body to handle. his voice in your ear crooning: "didn't i say no running, dear? i know you can manage all of me." you're split open, stretched to the limit while he rocks his hips real slow just to make you feel every single inch of him grinding deep.

kento keeps you spread open for hours. your pussy's dripping down your thighs, his cock sliding in and out of your sloppy hole. "mmhn... k-kento! baby, p-please slow down, please-!" but he won't. he knows that's not what you really want. he just holds your face, thumb in your mouth, making you suck it while he ruts into you harder.

kento cums too much. way too much. it's as though he'd been saving it all up for you. thick loads flood your cunt until it's leaking down to the sheets, and every time you gasp out, "ken- please, can't hold anymore, mngh! 'm too full!" he keeps fucking it back into you. or he'll pull out to scoop up what you've let drip out of you, and shove it back inside with his thick fingers. "need to keep all of me in, sweetheart."

by round three, you're gone. since you're barely able to hold yourself up, he grabs your waist and uses your body to fuck back onto him like a toy. he's hitting your gooey sweet spot over and over without slowing down or easing up. you're stuffed with all the cum he's spilled inside you, and yet he continues to mouth at your neck and mutter nasty shit into your skin. "mhm, right there. mm fuck you're sucking me in so perfect. have i tired my little wife out?" he tuts. "that's a shame. i'm not quite done yet. not until you're bred full."

but kento doesn't even know what "full" means when it comes to you. you're already stuffed to the brim, your belly round and tight from how much he's pumped inside, and still he's pounding your wrecked little hole like he hasn't already dumped load after load in you. he watches it spill every time he pulls out - thick and creamy - and then he just pushes back in, groaning about how you're wasting it, how your body should be holding all of him.

he rubs your clit with two fingers until you're wailing and squirting all over his pelvis, crying from how raw and overstimulated you are, and all he does is kiss your tears away and fuck you through it like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

kento flips you onto your side, pins one leg up to your chest, and drills into you from behind, panting about filling your womb until you can't walk straight. you're cockdrunk, drooling into the sheets, sobbing every time his fat tip punches your cervix, and still he doesn't let up. he manhandles you again so you're sat up on his lap, bouncing on his cock even though your thighs are trembling.

when you scream and gush around him one more time, adding to the creamy mess on his cock, he'll fill you right after then lays you down with him, not pulling out. you're held tight to his chest while he grinds lazy circles into your oversensitive cunt. your body still spasms around him, wrung out far too much, and he just kisses your messy hair like nothing's wrong and dozes off in seconds.

his cock is still heavy and swollen where it rests inside your ruined little hole, but somehow it helps you fall asleep soon after. he's keeping you warm.

what a gentleman.

#jjk #kento nanami #smut #I MEANT TO TAG THIS AS SMUT AND JUST REALIZED IT AUTOCORRECTED TO SLUT #I'M SO SORRY #other fics

darlingbambii

Too Close to Midnight ᰔ

frat!sukuna x reader ☆ MDNI 18+

wc : 4.7k ♡ art credits: @/Winterrbluess

summary ♡ You survive Sukuna’s frat party by sticking close to his side. Until his friends talk too much and he decides he’s had enough. The countdown to midnight happens upstairs instead, with his hands on you and his mouth claiming you long before the new year starts

tags ♡ modern au, new years eve, frat party, party to bedroom, kinda situationship, reader is loved, mentions of gojo and geto

disclaimers ♡ explicit intimacy, smut, fingering, oral (f recieving), p in v, mating press, slight praise, dirty talk, mutual desire, slight themes of possessiveness, small themes of social anxiety, mentions of drugs, alcohol consumption

You're pretty sure the music can be heard from the next town over. The bass shakes and vibrates the wooden floor and it makes your chest feel fuzzy and weird in that nauseating way.

Sukuna's frat, Sigma Psi, was packed considering it was a New Years Eve party. Bodies everywhere, heat and the smell of weed thick in the air, music swallowing every coherent thought. You're already questioning why you agreed to this.

You've been seeing Sukuna for a while, though you haven't really been to his frat all that much, let alone to any of his parties. In fact you can't even remember the last time you went to a party.

It's always too loud. Too much talking and yelling and people. It makes your skin crawl and you always really rather go home and rewatch your favourite shows instead or hide under the covers with your kindle in your hands.

Sukuna's hands find the small of your back before panic could start trickling up your spine.

“Breathe,” his voice brushes the shell or your ear, low, rough and somehow grounding in the way the music isn't.

You swallowed hard. “I am.”

He scoffs, nudging you playfully in the shoulder. “No, you're doing that thing where you're contemplating running and jumping into oncoming traffic.”

He wasn't wrong. There's way too many people, too many eyes. You can practically feel yourself already shrinking and you've only been here for less than five minutes. You also made the mistake of coming way too late when the party was loud and filled to the brim with people.

Sukuna didn't do shrinking. Not at all. You're pretty sure it's impossible for him, given his tall stature and blasé attitude.

He slides in front of you, turning your body slightly so your back hits the wall, shielding you from the loud crowd with his own. He shoves his hands in his pocket and looks around, daring anyone to walk up to him within ten feet.

You tugged lightly at his shirt. “You don't have to stand guard, you know. You can talk to your friends.”

“I do,” he says, sliding his gaze to yours, the faint smell of booze clinging to his breath. “Every time I look away, some drunk idiot decides they want to talk to you.”

You blinked. “... They were just asking if we were going to sit down on the sofa.”

“They were also staring at your tits.”

“They were staring at the pizza behind me.”

There wasn't even any pizza near you and Sukuna clearly knows that with a lift of his eyebrow. He grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “don't care”, then hooked a finger underneath your chin so you'd meet his eyes.

#jjk #smut #other fics #OP this rules

Hi all! Sorry about the long period of silence, I was mostly busy finishing the exchange fic. I have.... a lot of Strowill WIPs just kinda floating around. There was 1 I was pretty certain on finishing and posting, but then I lost a bit of interest in it. But maybe I'll get around to finishing that up eventually. So uhhhhh... yeah I have no idea when my next fic will go up, or which it'll be. We shall see

#dragon talks

dragondrafts

Make You Feel My Love

Pairing: Protagonist/Leon Strohl Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 2.6k Summary: Truly, whenever Junah set her heart to something, she would follow it to the ends of the earth. Even if it was over something as trivial as badgering Strohl into visiting some niche café in the far corner of town. AO3 Link: Here

Happy Holidays @cottonfeltgembira! I was your Secret Santa, and I hope you enjoy the fic <3

cottonfeltgembira

(Falls down a flight of stairs) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBB!!!!!!!!!!!! LIFE JS DREAMMMMM WAHHHHH I LOVEEEEEEE sniffles sniffles thank yewwewww omg ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉ∀`)･ﾟ･｡!!!!!!!

dragondrafts

it was my pleasure to make it!! I'm so glad you like it <3

Make You Feel My Love

Happy Holidays @cottonfeltgembira! I was your Secret Santa, and I hope you enjoy the fic <3

#dragon writes #dragon fics #metaphor: refantazio #metaphor refantazio #will metaphor #leon strohl #strowill #fanfiction #ao3 #metaphor refantazio secret santa 2025

ellipsus-writes

If you haven't heard, the em dash has been getting a lot of attention lately…

Because it was trained on pirated work—including freely accessible online writing (like fanfic, academic texts)—ChatGPT picked up patterns and quirks native to human writing.

Including (sigh) the em dash.

There are other victims here (RIP tapestry and delve 🫠), but the appropriation of the em dash—a punctuation mark beloved by writers everywhere—feels especially personal.

A kind of low-grade panic is ensuing. Writers who once memed their own em dash overuse—the greatest punctuation mark ever to grace the control-freak’s lexicon, frankly—are suddenly backing away to avoid accusations.

No. More. We have centuries of dash-abusing writers behind us. We will not sit quietly while AI repurposes our beloved stilted aside—or the just-one-more clarification the sentence demands—or the dramatic pause your comma could never—etc.

You don’t write like AI—AI writes like you.

Defend the em dash.

(Feel free to download/share/stick it where it matters!)

divaprincessyaoigod-deactivated

Best Friend Satoru Gojo x Bratty Reader

Pt 2/2 (pt 1)

“I’m nowhere near finished with you. Don’t expect to be walking tomorrow.

NSFW, explicit sexual content (p in v), cursing, fluff

︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵︵ ⊹ ︵⏜︵ ⊹ ︵ ⊹ ︵

He had you pinned to his mattress — folded damn near in half, your toes curling in pleasure.

There was no build-up. No easing into it. One minute you were on your knees in the mill and the next you were being split in half by the honored ones, stupidly beautiful, and stupidly big dick.

“You’re so damn mouthy,” Satoru pants, white hair falling in front of his piercing eyes as he rams into you.

“Someone needed to humble you,” you say, trying to ignore the way your voice shakes.

“Bold of you to volunteer,” he sneers.

His hands grab your hips, angling them upwards. He leans down, running his tongue along the divet of your collarbone before sucking hard.

You can't help but throw your head back in pleasure, your legs locking around his waist. A sound escapes your throat that is somewhere between a moan and a plea.

“Satoru…” you sob.

“Gotta mark you up. Make sure you don’t mouth off at anyone else,” he husks, biting down behind your ear.

You unashamedly cry out at his word, shoving your hips further together.

He looks down at you, making intense eye-contact with that shitting-eating grin on his face.

It's all too much. His smile. Those eyes. They way his cock is rearranging your guts —

You don’t mean to, but before you know it, you’re chanting his name like a prayer. The way you would call out to…a lover.

Satoru freezes for a fraction of a second. He senses the vulnerability in your words — an unusual softness.

His smirk falters and is replaced by a small smile. It's dark in his room but you swear you see a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

He drops his head to yours, his voice barely audible.

“Say my name like that again.”

He cups your lower jaw, his pace slowing. His thrusts become deep and intentional.

“You're always acting so tough, huh baby? But look at you,” he pants. “You’re letting me see you.”

You can't help the way you clench around him desperately.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say breathlessly, staring up at him.

"Like what?" he rasps between deep thrusts — the tip of his dick hitting that just right spot inside you. He looks at you. Like really looks at you. For once, there's no hint of teasing his voice. He’s dead serious. “Like I care?”

“Too late,” he breathes.

You're brain short circuits.

All the stolen glances. The gazes that lingered a little too long. The way you found yourself crawling into his arms after especially taxing missions. The undeniable desire? The yearning? The pining? Had he always felt it too?

“I like it when we’re together,” Satoru admits, caressing your cheek.

“Toru,” your voice cracks, your hard exterior cracking.

You feel his cock twitch at your words. Satoru keeps his pace, running his fingers lightly over your palm.

“You tease me like you want distance. Find every way to get under my skin, but every time…” His thumb brushes their lower lip. “…you come right back to me.”

“Maybe I’m not as good at staying away as I like to pretend,” you admit.

“And maybe I never want you to stay away,” he says, placing a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his. “I’m not stopping tonight,” he says — like it's a promise, a declaration.

In that moment it's like you have the six eyes — you can sense everything. Satoru's hot breath on your neck.

Languid, affectionate, sensual energy crackles between you, thicker than the humid Tokyo summer air. Satoru's thumbs trace circles on your cheekbones, his eyes never leaving yours, a possessive fire burning in their depths.

"Mine," he breathes against your lips, the word a brand searing into your soul. His voice sends waves of pleasure straight to your cunt.

He marks you.

He dips his head, nipping at your lower lip, a promise of more to come.

"This is what you wanted?" he whispers, the question laced with both vulnerability and challenge.

His rhythmic, deep thrusts continue.

Satoru's growl vibrates against your skin.

"God, you're gonna be the death of me," he admits, the words raw and laced with an untamed desire.

He pushes even deeper, eliciting a moan from you that he immediately swallows.

His hand shoots up, fingers tangling in your hair, tilting your head back as he devours your mouth.

Every thrust is a punctuation. A silent declaration of ownership.

You taste his hunger. His animalistic desperation.

You arch back, offering him more access, every nerve ending alive and begging.

The pleasure is excruciating. Exquisite. Amazing. Painfully good.

A strangled noise tears from your throat, muffled by his mouth, a desperate plea for release.

He breaks the kiss, but only to trail kisses down your throat, finding the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"Say it," he commands, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you manage, the word a ragged breath against his skin. "I want you, Toru."

He groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated need.

His pace quickens, pushing you closer to the edge, the world narrowing to the feel of his body against yours, the taste of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing.

You come together in a shattering release. It's like nothing you've ever felt. Splintering. Pulsing. Electric.

He collapses onto you, breathless, skin flushed, but somehow still wearing that smug grin.

“Don’t look at me like you’re done,” he murmurs, lips brushing your cheek. “I’m nowhere near finished with you. Don’t expect to be walking tomorrow.”

And goddamn… he keeps that promise, and then some.

⊹₊˚‧⊹₊˚‧⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹‧˚₊⊹‧˚₊⊹

hi babies! thank you so much for reading! i am happy you are here - i can't wait to write more 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

tags: @lovergirliexo @akne

#jjk #nsft #smut #satoru gojo #other fics

monstersandmaw

Male dragon x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This was the very first request I got, from a dear friend on my other writing blog, the moment I put this one up. You know who you are, this one is for you, and I’m sorry it took me nearly a month to complete.

___

There had always been a dragon that lived in the mountain to the east of the small, prosperous town where you’d lived your whole life. People talked about it in the tavern, strangers came to try to hike up to see it, but no one ever came back alive. Whether there really was a dragon up there, eating anyone who dared disturb his rest, or whether the ascent up the mountain was simply too dangerous, no one knew, but the town’s economy thrived off it.

And so did you.

You loved dragons.

As a child you’d always dreamed of being the maiden captured by the dragon, and instead of being held captive by it, you talked with the dragon, and it would befriend you, keeping the self-absorbed princes and knights and noblemen away who dared to imagine you needed ‘rescuing’.

You’d rescue yourself anyway, thank you very much.

But one day when you’d outgrown the fairy tales that fuelled your curiosity as a child, you decided to go looking for something more tangible than ink on paper. Perhaps you’d spent too long listening to Old Cobb in the tavern, going on and on about the dragon and his hoard, and maybe you’d inhaled too much of his pipe-smoke, because you’d had some interesting dreams that night. It seemed your fantasies had grown up with you.

So, after breakfast, you set off for the mountain. It soon became evident why no one returned. It was clear that the ascent had killed a disturbing number of people. The path was ragged and uneven underfoot to start with, abominably steep in places, with rocky precipices to traverse along, and sheer rock-faces to climb. Once you’d passed the curtain-wall of rock, however, you found that the way wound up more gently through tall pines, eventually emerging at the bottom of a scree-slope, above which was the smoking entrance to the dragon’s lair.

No one in living memory had actually seen the dragon. Perhaps it was just the mouth of a semi-dormant volcano. Maybe undetectable noxious gases were what killed people. Shrugging, you decided you’d come that far, and made your way carefully to the top.

It took a while for your eyes to adjust to the plunging darkness inside, but when they did and your vision cleared, you gasped. Curled up on a rock at the back of the cave, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight from the cave roof, tail twitching sporadically, was indeed a dragon, fast asleep and breathing deeply and evenly. The breath entered and left its lungs like a set of blacksmith’s bellows.

A pebble rolled under your foot and skittered away across the smooth cave floor.

Keep reading

#other fics #hi op sorry for rbing old stuff #I love it tho #dragons #smut #nsft

ibajo256

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